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maryannecrimsworth · 2 months ago

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Your friendly neighborhood

Pairing: Spiderman! Vi x Journalist! Reader

Summary: Your boss is driving everyone insane because of his suspicion about the Red Spider that's out there fighting crime. Because of that, you decide to discover the hero's identity and prove to your boss she's just a friendly neighborhood

Warnings: mentions of violence, fights, discussion, it's overall fluffy though

Mentions: i was inspired by @champagne-problems-ate 's moodboard so thank u

The friendly neighborhood was making your life a living hell. Your boss — J. Jonah Jameson — was infuriated by the spider-hero roaming New York City’s streets. With every new headline, the Red-Spider showed up with more derogatory names and conspiracy theories. In your opinion, your boss simply couldn’t stomach the idea that a woman with superpowers was doing more for the city than he ever could. Either way, it was your photos and articles being used in the news, so your work was finally gaining some recognition.

The problem was that you couldn’t stand sneaking around the city’s buildings anymore just to get a frame of the Spider-Girl. After months and a few twisted ankles, you were tired of chasing after some weird hero. Your photos always contradicted your boss’s opinions: you captured the Red-Spider helping children, punching criminals, rescuing cats. It was so virtuous it became exhausting — almost like a constant provocation to the Daily Bugle. In the middle of one of your boss’s heated speeches, you impulsively stood up and shouted to the entire office that you’d uncover the Red-Spider’s identity once and for all. That way, Jameson would finally shut up, and you could move on to other stories.

Still, you were done hearing about the Red Spider.

“I swear to God, Vi, I’m gonna punch someone if I hear one more word about her.”

Violet, your little brother’s boxing coach, laughed at your grumpy greeting. Your conversations never began with a "hello" or ended with a "goodbye." They always started with some sudden comment from you.

“You came to the right place!” She pointed to the rings around you. “Just don’t punch your brother; he’ll wipe the floor with you.”

“I doubt it; he’s half my size.” Your words were met with a mocking look from her.

“What? You gonna play tough now?”

“Well, you’re the one looking to pick a fight.” She raised her hands, feigning innocence. “I just make them happen.”

“Perfect job for you, huh? Fighting for money.” There was a teasing tone in your voice, a mix of provocation and irritation. “It’s a shame it messes up your face.”

“There are plenty of people who’d disagree with you.” A smug smile spread across her face. It was a fact — nothing could make Violet unattractive, no matter how many punches she took.

“Vi! Vi!” Your brother’s voice rang out from a ring at the back of the gym. “I beat Vander! I beat him!”

The scene made your eyes widen: your brother, drenched in sweat, raised his arms in victory while Vander struggled to stand. Vander’s legs wobbled, his hands groping for balance on the floor. He was completely dazed.

“Holy shit!” Violet shouted, and the two of you rushed to the ring. “Did you do that?”

Your brother nodded proudly, sweat dripping down his grinning face.

“It’s only the third round, kid. Don’t celebrate too soon.” You relaxed as soon as you heard Vander’s voice. He was okay — even good-humored. “Come on.” The man got up, but a gust of wind seemed to hit him, sending his body swaying to the side.

Violet leapt into the ring, catching Vander with surprising agility.

“Okay, okay.” She used her body to support the large, groggy man. “The fight’s over, old man. Age catches up to us all.”

“Is he alright?” your brother whispered to you, his voice filled with uncertainty. “I thought he was just joking.”

“I think you hit him pretty hard, buddy.”

Your brother’s eyes widened with guilt. Motivated by it, he ran over to Vander and hugged him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” he practically shouted. “Don’t kick me out of your gym — I really like you guys!”

“Are you kidding?” Vander replied calmly, pushing the boy back by the shoulders to look him in the eye. “You’re gonna be our poster boy! I’ve never seen a fighter like you!”

“I have a great coach!” your brother admitted, his wide, toothy smile drawing laughter from the boxers in front of him.

“Damn right.” Vi ruffled the boy’s sweaty hair with feigned roughness. “Now go practice on the punching bags. No more old men passing out today.”

Your brother, excited, and Vander, offended, obeyed and left the ring. Violet, on the other hand, walked toward you, leaning over the ropes and lowering her face to yours.

“Not gonna get in?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to punch someone.”

“Not you.”

“I can change that real quick.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’d rather you buy me a drink. When can we go out again?”

Violet’s tough facade softened.

“Sorry, I’ve got to work late tonight.” Her excuse was the same every week.

“I’m gonna have to have a serious talk with Vander sooner or later. There’s gotta be some labor law being violated here.”

She laughed, hopped out of the ring, and changed the subject as soon as she landed next to you.

“We’re having a barbecue this Sunday. I can’t promise Powder and Ekko will leave the garage, but I’ll definitely be there.”

“Please tell me Mylo isn’t manning the grill. I don’t want to eat charcoal again.”

“No, no. Claggor’s got it covered!”

Violet seemed genuinely excited about the idea of having her family together for the weekend. Her presence had been a constant at these gatherings for years — ever since the two of you beat up a jerk who had been bothering Powder after school. You hadn’t known either of the sisters, but you refused to let the boy get away unpunished after being such an idiot. From that day on, Violet had been by your side in many fights, victories, and losses. She was there when your parents died, when you learned to drive, and when you got drunk for the first time. She was always by your side — until a few months ago. Years, really.

It was as if a switch had flipped without warning, and a huge distance had grown between you. Suddenly, you only saw her when you took your brother to boxing class, and even then, something felt different. Sometimes her smiles seemed more forced, her eyes more distant.

Something had changed, and you had no idea how to fix it.

“Hey.” Violet’s deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere, sorry.” You hid your face in your hand, rubbing your eyes as if trying to wake up. In truth, you were just wiping away the tears that had quickly welled up. “What were you saying?”

“I said Silco promised to bring us more expensive cigars.”

The news from her lips should’ve brought you some joy, but you only shook your head.

“Sounds amazing.” You turned to leave without looking at her. “I’ll let you work. See you later.”

Violet’s fingers — calloused, rough, and warm — wrapped around your wrist with uncommon gentleness. It was detestable, this touch, because it was always followed by that melodic tone:

“Hey.” She whispered, stepping closer to you. Her voice carried worry. “You don’t have to go just yet. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ve got work to do.” You quickly pulled away, spreading your arms in a dramatic gesture. “I’ve got a spider to unmask!”

Your exaggerated shout drew attention from some nearby students. Usually, that was enough to make Violet laugh. However, there was a worried expression on her face.

Maybe your words had sounded a bit too strange this time.

You left the gym with a frown and a mission: to find the Red Spider.

You took a nasty fall that night. Maybe it was your crowded mind, maybe it was a risky jump, or maybe the roof was just too weak to hold your weight. Either way, you slipped while chasing the Red Spider, tumbling off a balcony, rolling across part of a roof, and landing on a closed dumpster. Luckily, your camera came out unscathed, but half of your body was scraped by bricks, nails, and iron bars. A few cats scattered at the string of curses you shouted after crashing onto the dumpster.

"Are you okay?"

The sudden voice startled you, adding another fall to your miserable night. Filthy and sprawled on the ground, you searched for the source of the voice and spotted a silhouette in the shadows. It was her, the Red Spider.

"My savior!" you greeted her bitterly. "A little late, but I appreciate the concern."

"Why are you following me?"

The voice from the shadows carried a hint of pain. For a moment, you had the feeling you recognized that tone—vulnerable and wounded—but the blurry image before you didn’t allow any certainty. Struggling, you got to your feet and limped toward the local heroine.

"I'm actually doing you a favor." There was confidence and falsehood in your voice. "My boss will leave you alone once he finds out you’re just a well-meaning girl."

"And all my enemies will make my life a living hell. Did you think about that?" Her question was almost an accusation.

"I’m sure you’ll manage to save everyone. That’s what you always do, right?" With pain and anger coursing through your body, the bitterness in your tone was unmistakable. A resentful irony revealed that you didn’t have much faith in the Red Spider's abilities. "Just work on your timing a little. If you’d chosen to play the hero two days earlier, my parents might still be alive." In a subtle motion, you adjusted the camera in front of you and aimed it at the spider in the shadows. "Or if you’d shown up two minutes sooner, maybe my dignity would’ve survived."

As the last syllable left your lips, the camera flashed, lighting up the dark alley. There she was—the Red Spider—hiding, staring at you, frozen in place. What was going through her mind, you couldn’t possibly guess. But the sudden burst of light was enough to spur her into action. The heroine shot a web and vanished from the dark alley.

You were alone, injured, and with a weight on your chest that threatened to crush you. That was the last push you needed: you would uncover her identity. You would find out why she saved everyone except the people you loved most—your family.

Countless questions and worried looks were thrown your way during the barbecue. Claggor and Ekko teamed up to try to redo your bandages, Mylo and Powder made so many jokes that your ears were buzzing with them, and Silco and Vander had been watching you all morning.

"I'm fine!" You raised your voice so everyone could hear. "No serious injuries, but your stares are killing my pride. Can we move on?"

"Like you moved on and fell flat on your face?" Mylo had already made comments like this a dozen times. No one laughed.

"We’re making progress at college. The deans want to showcase our project at the next tech conference," Ekko changed the subject. How you loved that kid! You didn’t understand a thing about how his innovative gadgets worked, but you wanted to know everything about them now. "They think Stark Industries might be interested."

"I refuse to sell our idea to a playboy in a steel suit!" Powder protested. "If we do, our machines will never be accessible to the people in Queens."

"Think big, my prodigy. It takes a lot of funding and work before a product reaches those in need," Silco explained in his calm voice. "But the college should be covering those expenses. Where are my investments being used?"

Expressing everyone’s reaction, Isha grunted at Silco’s words and stopped him before he could start one of his speeches. Bored, the girl moved away from Sevika and grabbed Powder’s hands. She and your brother wanted to play, and apparently, the strong woman was no longer entertaining them. Sevika swapped the toys for a beer while your brother, Isha, Powder, and Ekko went off to play with bats and toy pistols.

"She hasn’t reached out to you?" Vander approached you stealthily, taking the beer bottle you had just finished out of your hand. It was your fifth that morning. "I’m sorry about that."

"It’s okay. I kind of saw it coming," you smiled and stepped back. "I’ll go for a walk. Keep an eye on my brother for me?"

"Sure." Vander’s reply wasn’t going to end there, but you cut him off quickly.

"Thanks!" You said and walked off before he could say anything more.

Wandering the neighborhood was the only thing left for you to do. Staying at the barbecue or going back home to work — either would leave you furious. Vi had ignored you again, the Spider-Girl had escaped once more. Everywhere you looked, there was frustration. It felt like a part of your life was slipping away.

Or maybe, you were just a little drunk and melancholic on a Sunday morning.

The streets of the neighborhood had grown peaceful since the first appearance of the Red Spider. Now, kids played and elderly couples strolled without fear, untouched by the gangs and dealers that had been driven out. It was still a simple life — there were few cars on the street, and no house was big enough for families as large as these — but it was a simple and good life. A safe one.

It had been your parents' dream for you and your brother. It was also Violet's parents' dream. Too bad they passed away before seeing this dream realized by a masked heroine.

The situation was somewhat comical and beautiful. To think that a super-powered figure clad entirely in red had brought peace to one of New York's most dangerous neighborhoods. It could have been a great joke if she hadn’t sent so many thugs to prison.

You smiled as you thought about it: she was good. The Red Spider brought hope and joy to thousands of families. You loved what she represented, you loved what she did — only part of you wondered why she had only appeared after your parents passed away. After your parents were murdered by some lowlife thugs. She would have ended them in two seconds if she had been there. But she wasn’t.

You had to learn to live with that and move on with your life. Still, it was hard when every aspect of your work screamed about the heroine in red. You wished you could forget her if you could.

"Son of a bitch, they’re getting creative!" The cursing, so familiar to your ears, came suddenly from inside your house. The house that should have been empty. "Damn it, this is going to take a while to heal!"

In a swift motion, you opened the door and came face-to-face with the intruder in your home: Violet was sprawled on the floor, visibly injured.

She struggled as much as she could to sit up and look at you, but she only managed to move her head.

"Hi," a shaky groan escaped her lips. "Sorry, I didn’t think—"

"What happened?" You dropped to your knees beside her, analyzing the cuts and stains covering her worn-out hoodie. Violet didn’t just look like she had been in a fight — she looked violently beaten. "Are those cuts? Violet, what did you get yourself into?"

The boxer tried to avoid your worried hands, but she didn’t have the strength to keep you away. Determined and suddenly sober, you tore off her jacket to get a better look at her injuries. What you saw, however, was something entirely different: the spider suit, red and shiny, covered Violet’s strong body.

You instinctively recoiled.

"This can’t be true," you mumbled, your wide eyes scanning every detail, curve, and bruise on the heroine’s body. It was her. It was her: you had taken pictures of that same person hundreds of times. Never without the mask, never with her face revealed as it was now.

Violet couldn’t meet your gaze.

"I can explain—" her weak voice was quickly cut off by your shout.

"Shit!" Your teeth clenched so hard that the Red Spider flinched at the sound. "Damn it, Violet! What the hell!" Despite all your anger, there was something more important to focus on. Vi was pale, trembling, and sweaty. A greenish hue occasionally overtook her face, and she was taking forever to move. "What did they do to you?"

"Spider pesticide," she grumbled, her cheeks turning extremely green for a few moments. "Smells like hell."

"Yeah, I noticed." The heroine really did stink. The smell, however, didn’t seem to affect you as much as it affected her. "Can you get up? You need to take a shower."

"I’m too dizzy. Just let me lie here for a bit." Without waiting for your permission, Vi laid back down on the floor.

"Fine, but take your clothes off first."

"What?" Her cheeks flushed.

"Is your plan to keep inhaling the pesticide until you feel better? No, you need to get rid of the smell. Come on, take off your clothes."

The idea didn’t seem to please the woman. However, she was too tired to argue and struggled to take off the suit. If it weren’t for your help, she would have stayed in that stinky hoodie and tight uniform until she regained her strength. How long that usually took, you had no idea.

You covered her with a blanket and placed a pillow under her head. Despite being injured and exhausted, she didn’t need to lie on your living room floor like a homeless person. Nothing was said in the meantime: her eyes followed you, curious and vulnerable, while you paid attention to every detail. You needed to make sure she was okay before anything else.

Once she finally seemed to relax, you laid down beside her on the floor.

"Do you come back like this every time?" Your question was expressed in a faint whisper.

"Not always. Today was a little worse." A silence fell between the two of you. The small gap of inches between your shoulders felt like miles.

"You can yell at me if you want. I deserve it."

"It’s no use, not with you like this. I’m too worried to be angry at you right now." Your eyes were fixed on a spot on the ceiling. "I just wish you had told me."

Silence again.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I felt guilty," she admitted with a shaky groan. You turned your face to her and saw tears filling her blue eyes. "And scared... scared of losing you."

"Why would you lose me, Vi?"

She turned her face away as soon as you moved closer.

"Because you won’t forgive me. You can’t. Not after I let your parents die." There was so much pain in her voice and on her face: speaking about it seemed more agonizing than any bruise on her body.

With a broken heart and a lump in your throat, you moved closer to her. You reached for her clenched fist and opened it, intertwining your fingers with hers.

"It wasn’t your fault. I needed someone to blame, but I would never put that on you, Vi. I can’t believe you actually thought that."

In a reaction filled with fear, the woman pulled her hand away from yours and turned her back to you.

"I already had the powers," she admitted after curling up into herself. "When your parents died, I could have done something. But Vander told me to be careful, he said great responsibilities would come if I used my powers. I hesitated, and if I hadn’t hesitated, your parents—"

"Vi, stop." You sat up, leaning over her curled-up body. Your hands reached for her shoulder, gently pulling her closer to you. "When did you get your powers?"

"A few days before they—"

"Then there wasn’t time. No one becomes a hero overnight." Your voice was firm. No bitterness, no irony, just determination.

"But you said—"

"I know what I said." You squeezed Vi’s shoulder, desperate for her to meet your gaze. "I know, but it was just words. I wanted to take my pain out on someone, and who better than a distant figure plastered across the papers?"

"Well, I told you that you could take it out on me if you wanted," she tried to lighten the mood with a carefree laugh.

A smile crossed your lips, but your voice remained serious.

"I could never do that, Vi. I admire you too much to even consider something like that."

Your words wiped away the small smile lingering on her lips. Vulnerable again, Vi finally turned her face toward you.

"Whether as a boxer or as the Spider-Girl, I have nothing but gratitude for you."

Her eyes gleamed as they locked onto yours. Like a magnet, your entire body was drawn to that gaze, your heart desperate to leap from your chest and meet hers, no matter how irrational that might be.

"But I wish you had told me. It would have saved a lot of carpets," you joked, bringing a dazzling smile to Violet's face. "I thought it was some filthy raccoon, but it turns out it was just you."

"That would make quite the headline. The Red Spider Destroys Neighborhood Living Rooms."

"Are you kidding? So I’m not the only one whose carpets you’ve ruined?" You feigned an offended expression. "How scandalous of you, barging into strangers’ living rooms. I thought I was special!"

"You are." There wasn’t a trace of humor in her low, steady voice.

The smile on Violet’s face pierced through any joke or comment you might have made. Her gaze disarmed you, just as it so often had in the past. After nearly a year, she was back—by your side. As Violet, and as the Red Spider, she had fully returned to your life.

Nothing could describe the relief, the peace, and the joy you felt knowing that.

"Good to know." Your confident smile joined hers. On impulse, you leaned in and stole a kiss from your heroine. The thought made you smile again.

"My heroine."