#quips & thwips

[heymob]

scrying all by yourself handsome?

[carli-meows]

change anything you want about Marvel movies, but Spider-man and deadpool are the only ones who can make those "well that just happened" jokes

[aranaboricua]

OPEN - Mutuals ony

🕷️ → ❝ Fuck up my Js and hair YOU LOOSE YOUR LIFE. ❞

[ichorai]

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)

MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.

MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it’s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”

MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.

MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.

MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.

“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.

“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.

“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.

MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.

When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.

You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.

It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[addicted-to-dc]

Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara X Spider!Reader - Twice Bitten

I just saw Across the Spider-Verse and I NEEDED to write for Miguel. Just DAMN it was so nice to see my fav spider grace the screen.

This will most likely be a series, maybe friends to lovers, but we’ll just see where this story takes us.

(Part 2 out now!)

Warnings: Descriptions of pain, fighting, angst. typical spider stuff. Slight spoilers for the movie?? Nothing plot related.

1,400 word count. Enjoy!!

Okay, maybe you’ve introduced yourself one too many times, but this time couldn’t hurt.

You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the one and only Spider-Woman who thwips and quips all over New York, protecting innocents from bad guys. It’s a rough job, you’ve lost more people than you can count, but you always get back up. Being good, and doing good is in your DNA. You can’t stop now, not even when your body refuses to listen to you. 

It comes out of nowhere as you swing towards a reported disturbance, your spider-sense warning you too late when something hard slams into your chest. Your web disconnects, sending you crashing into the nearest rooftop. 

You force yourself to recover, lifting your hand to see black ooze spreading all over your body. Your eyes widen, recognizing the symbiote instantly. It spreads all over your body, seeping into you as your body seizes. Your body meets the ground once again, your screams morphing into something monstrous. The roof below you cracks under the pressure of your strength, even more so as you feel pain shock your entire body. It feels like you’re glitching, your atoms falling apart and being put back together in a matter of seconds.

Forcing yourself up, you grab onto the symbiote, uselessly attempting to rip the creature off of you. With another scream, you feel a final snap. Your body freezes, your mind at a standstill as you feel something invade your mind.

You’re not my spider, but you’ll do.

You gasp as the symbiote bonds even further to you but stops when you resist. The glitch happens again, making you fall to the ground once again. Something is wrong, extremely wrong. 

“Get. Off. Of. ME!” you scream, finally getting a grasp on the symbiote and pulling. It feels like you’re pulling a piece of yourself with it. You stop, groaning when the pain subsides. Your hot breath in your mask nearly makes you pass out, but you’re able to stand once again.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your thoughts run wild as the symbiote nestles itself further into you. It can’t be your symbiote, no, that one is locked away for good. 

You can feel the symbiote react to your thoughts, but you have no time to recover when you suddenly slam into the ground. You take the hit like a champ, opening your eyes to see someone in a red and blue suit. His claws dig deep into your chest as he roughly places a device onto you. 

A high-pitched noise emits from the device, causing the symbiote to scream. Despite the device, it remains bonded to you. You writhe in pain until you manage to rip the device off, accidentally sending your attacker flying off the roof. Your legs nearly give out on you as you stand, but you remain strong. You always get back up.

The figure returns, swinging back onto the roof with a neon red web. You raise your fists. Another wannabe spider? You feel your emotions blow up, your mind clouded as you try to figure out what is going on. 

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here for the symbiote,” he says with raised hands. “Let me help you.”

He’s not going to help you. He’ll rip us apart.

Anger floods your system as you lunge forward, attacking him blindly as he narrowly avoids your attacks. He plants another device on you, then another. They both go off at the same time, briefly separating you from the creature. It gives you enough willpower to stop fighting, but your body doesn’t let up.

“I c-can’t stop,” you whimper, trying to hold yourself back as your fist meets his face. “Please, end this.”

He lands a punch in the center of your chest, sending you flying. Another device goes off, but it still doesn’t work. This symbiote won’t let you go. 

It takes everything in you to stop moving, your muscles straining against themselves as you grasp onto your head. The symbiote urges you to give in, to let them take over until you finally feel a hand on your shoulder.

You move to push him away but feel a sharp sting in your neck. Gasping, your hand moves to find purchase on him, but your arms limply fall to your sides. The symbiote finally detaches from you, glitching until it moved into one of the traps he set on the ground. It pops up, trapping the creature.

The pressure lifts, only for you to realize that it was his teeth that just did that. You weakly turn your head to look at him, your blood on his lips as he pulls away. Your body aches in more ways than one, feeling yourself slowly begin to burn. Soreness seeps into you, making it difficult to even move a finger. You haven’t been like this since you were first bitten by that spider all those years ago. 

You stare into his red eyes, unable to read them as he lifts you up. He removes your mask, finally allowing you to breathe the fresh air. You flinch as soon as a bright light flashes, a portal of sorts opening in front of you. The symbiote goes in first, then the two of you. 

Your eyes close and your body goes slack. As soon as his feet meet solid ground he’s running. His movements jostle you awake. You must be hallucinating because you see hundreds of… you? Different spider suits flash around you until you’re set down on a cold table. 

Your neck burns even more, forcing you to roll to your side as you curl into a ball. You feel the heat spread through your body, your muscles so tense you think you’ll snap them. That’s when you feel it.

Your muscles growing in size. Your teeth expand to sharp canines. Just as someone goes to restrain your arms, your hand slams into the table and claws cut through the metal like butter. When one of your arms were finally free, you shoot a web and pull yourself away from the group. One of them goes to move forward, but the blue and red one stops them. 

You greedily suck in air, sticking to the highest point in the room as you recollect yourself. The red and blue one dismisses everyone, keeping his eyes on you as everyone filters out. You finally catch your breath, confusion clouding your mind.

“What did you do to me?” you ask, shuddering when your new fangs made speaking awkward. 

He removes his mask, letting you see those red eyes again. They’re hypnotizing, reassuring you that he means no harm. He crawls up the wall slowly, closing the distance as he gently examines his bite mark. He’s lost in thought, running through different possible explanations that could shed light on why the hell his venom… changed you?

“I don’t know,” he replies, dragging his fingers along the bite. “It’s nearly healed already.”

You hiss when his fingers trace over a sensitive spot, your hand instinctually grasping his wrist. He doesn’t say a word as he opens your fingers, comparing your new claws to his. He removes your gloves. You don’t protest, especially when your new talons have ripped them to shreds.

His claws retract back into his hand and he begins to gently trace his fingers in your palm, “They go away when you’re relaxed.”

“Kind of hard to do that when I’m freaking the fuck out,” you quip.

Your body betrays you, taking in his immense warmth as he gently brushes against your claws. They finally disappear as if nothing was even there in the first place. Your fangs do not change.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, holding your hand tightly. “It was the only way to-”

“All a part of the job,” you chuckle, your fangs on full display as you flash him a gentle smile. 

His eyes immediately hone in on them, his index finger lightly tracing the point, “You’re just like me? My venom has never done this before.”

“Maybe I’m just that special,” you mumble tiredly. “Didn’t expect to get bitten twice by a spider.”

A small, tense laugh escapes from his lips. He watches as you doze off, nearly falling off the wall until he gently guides you to the ground.

“What’s your name?” you mumble out, sighing when you feel a soft bed against your back.

“Miguel,” he responds, placing a blanket over you. 

“You owe me dinner,” you mutter before letting your exhaustion finally win. 

You always get up, but you’ll do that after a quick nap.

[starbabyg]

Ok this is just an idea but I love love love ‘Picture Perfect’ and I was thinking part 2 where one of the boys accidentally like finds one of the pictures… like Trevor and him ordered pizza or something and Jack tells him to grab his card out of his wallet and a Polaroid just tumbles out… and all the sudden Trevor can’t stop imagining you and jack. Maybe Jack catches him with the picture and is all cocky about how much of a good girl you are, how perfect you feel and sound… and maybe just maybe Jack invites Trev to watch… no touching because he’s a protective boyfriend but he knows you’ve thought about having someone watch before and he Trusts Trevor….

Picture Perfect Part 2 | Jack Hughes x Reader x Trevor Zegras smut

Ugh nony I loveee this concept!! You’re mind is just ugh! Chef’s kiss!!!

The OG Picture perfect smut is right hereee to refresh ya memory <3.

Warnings; smut obviously, the c word lmfao, the word ‘daddy’ in a sexual context

+++

It was guy’s night at lake cabin, which meant Jack and Trevor, the only two to ever pull through for guy’s night, would be playing video games, watching a game, and attempting to go fishing until they finally give up and order some food cause neither of them know how to cook.

“Aaaand another one bites the dust. 5-0. It’s settled my characters better than yours,” Jack taunted, putting the game controller down and picking up his drink.

“Okay, I’m still on the cover though sooo,” Trevor quipped back with sass.

“Yeah cause I was too busy for a shoot, now go get the pizza loser I gotta go piss.” Jack heard the door bell ring, the only person it could be being the pizza guy.

“In your dreams Hughes, I don’t got cash for the tip lend me a five.”

“Get it out of my wallet I’m about to burst,” Jack shouted as he walked down the hall to the bathroom.

Trevor chuckled shaking his head, picking up Jack’s wallet from the coffee table and opening it up. Trevor rifled through Jack’s wallet, seeing twenties and hundreds, but no small bills.

“Jesus does this guy have any change?” Trevor flipped Jack’s wallet upside down, dumping it out to find at least some coins. Thwip. Along with a bunch of dollar bills something heavier fell out. Jack’s special Polaroids fell out, all faced backside up. Trevor being the nosy person he is flipped them over and picked them up.

Trevor’s eyes widened as he saw the contents of said Polaroids. You spread out on the bed, lewd shots of you in the matching set, bent over and your tits hanging out. “No fucking way,” Trev whispered to himself still perusing through the countless pictures. He was brought out of his thoughts by the door bell ringing once more, this time sounding more impatient by the abruptness. Too enthralled with his new discovery Trevor just grabbed a fifty and handed it to the guy. I’ll just venmo Jack later. He grabbed the pizza and tossed it on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch and looking at the pictures once more.

How the fuck did Hughes bag her? Trevor was acquainted with you, knew for sure you were pretty as hell but didn’t know that underneath that seemingly quiet and meek exterior was a girl who would pose for something like this. With your makeup done and your body out of your normal casual clothes, he finally got to see the more private side of you that was reserved for Jack only.

“She’s fucking perfect huh,” Jack smirked from behind the couch. He walked over and plopped himself next to Trevor, who just sat there with shock on his face. His best friend had just caught him looking at his private pictures of his girlfriend. Fuck. “Such a good girl for me. Posed exactly how I told her to. Straight out of a magazine, a masterpiece.” Jack could just go on and on about you.

“Wait— you’re not tripping over me looking at these?” Trevor was surprised at Jack’s nonchalant attitude over the situation. He thought Jack would be more of the possessive type.

“Not really. I mean look at her, why would I want to keep that just to myself. I already have the exclusive rights to fucking her. Now that I’ll forever keep to myself,” Jack smiled, he knew that many men fawned after you. Imagined what your naked body looked like. How you felt.

Trevor now was dragged into the thought of fucking you. How good you would be in bed. How submissive. How you sounded. How it would feel to have his dick wrapped inside you. If you turned him on just from pictures imagine the real thing.

“You wanna know how it is huh,” Jack could see that look on Trev’s face, that look of longing. It’s like Pandora’s box was open, and that box, was well, your box. LMFAOOO I HAD TO.

Now Trevor didn’t want to cross any lines. After all Jack was like his best friend. He wouldn’t risk his friendship over anything in the world. Jack saw Trevor’s facial expression change, now looking more panicked.

“Come to my house next weekend. Now I’m not gonna let you fuck her. But you can at least watch her get fucked. The closest thing you’ll ever get to that perfection of a pussy. When I say she’s a goddess I mean it in every aspect.”

No way was Jack just offering to let me watch him fuck his girlfriend. No way in hell. “A-are you sure man? I just got caught up in the pictures I don’t need to do all that–”

“Zegras, it’s not that big of a deal it’s not like you’re fucking her behind my back– unless you are then I’m gonna beat your ass. Besides y/n has a lil voyeurism kink, she likes being watched sometimes. I’ll be fucking her against our apartment window or on the balcony. At least I actually know you.”

“Jesus y/n’s more of a freak than I pegged her for.”

“No, she really is. The things this girl introduced me to. The things she does to me. Literally has me wrapped around her finger.” Just from this conversation both the boys were getting turned on, Jack reminiscing in past moments and Trevor just imagining how good it could be having sex with you.

“Shit I need to get me one of those,” Trev laughed.

“Yeah, no one will ever compare to y/n, like ever,” Jack cut that quick, knowing that you’re literally the most perfect girl in the whole wide world. No one could ever come close to you in Jack’s eyes. “Just come by my place, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Just as Jack had told him, Trevor went to his house that next weekend. To say Trev was nervous was an understatement. In all honesty he felt like it was all a set up, that in the end Jack would be mad that his best friend would actually want to see his girlfriend getting fucked. But there he stood at Jack’s front door, contemplating on whether or not to ring the doorbell or just altogether leave and forget that any of this ever happened. Before he could even decide between the two, Jack’s door opened.

“What’s good Zegras,” Jack held open the door nonchalantly.

“How’d you know I was here–”

“Saw you on the ring camera duh. Come in though before my neighbors think I’m having a party and try to pull through. They’re just a little too comfortable.”

Trevor just laughed in agreement, still anxious about the whole situation. He sat himself on the couch, watching Jack as he pulled two drinks out of the fridge.

“Y/n’s on her way back from getting her nails done. We can just chill and play some chel til she gets back.”

“You told her that I’m coming over?” Trevor wanted to make sure that you were okay with the whole situation, after all you were the one getting fucked in front of the one man audience.

“Nah, I just told her to wear one of her prettiest sets cause I have a surprise for her.” Jack shrugged as he threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“So you didn’t even tell her! You’re a dick Hughes. What if she gets weirded out and tells someone in the league,” Trevor was thinking about every possible way this could go wrong.

“God Trev, what did I tell you. Y/n isn’t gonna care she likes the taboo shit.”

“If you’re wrong I’m never talking to your ass again. Like ever,” He pointed seriously.

“Whatever, set the game up I’mma make us some mozzarella sticks,” Jack threw a piece of popcorn at Trevor, who was watching Jack’s every move.

The two boys were deep into a third round of chel when they heard the front door unlocking. Trevor quickly looked at Jack, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Hi lovey, I’m back,” you sweetly spoke out, not knowing where Jack could be. You locked the door, taking off your shoes and setting your purse down carefully.

“Hey my princess, I’m in the living room. How was your nail appointment,” Jack had his eyes glued to the tv, taking these moments where Trevor was distracted to get in some goals.

“It was good, I got them the color you chose for me. It’s prettier than I thought it’d be. With the red toes just how you like.”

“Ouuu you gotta let me see. I bet they look amazing on you.” Jack smiled, just imagining how it looked. Trevor looked to Jack and into the void where he heard your voice coming from. It was a bit awkward to hear such a casual yet intimate one on one conversation between the two of you. It seemed to him like eavesdropping.

“Mkay love, be right there. I’m just putting my stuff away. But what was that surprise you were talking about? It was so hot in the salon and I couldn’t even take off my jacket cause of what I got on underneath.”

“Come over here and you’ll see it, I got it right here for you,” Jack smirked as he patted Trev on the back, who looked like he was about to pass out.

You entered the kitchen area, back turned towards the boys as you perused through the fridge for a drink. Trevor blinked as he saw you, even more nervous than he thought he would be.

You opened a soda, throwing away the cap before going into the living room section to fully see Jack on the couch, with Trevor in tow. “Oh hey Trevor, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he mustered out, looking at you in your little yoga outfit. With one of those tight fitting cropped lululemon define jackets with the matching form fitting yoga pants. Your hair slicked back in a high ponytail.

“You know how I had that guys night with Trev?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded as you sipped your soda.

“Well he had to get money to tip the pizza guy out of my wallet and he came across your polaroids,” Jack casually explained. Trevor took a hard gulp as he gauged your reaction.

“The ones of me in the pink agent provacateur set?” You now knew what was going on, and surely this was quite the surprise on Jack’s part.

“Mhmm.”

You turned towards Trevor, “Did you like how I looked in it?” You thought it was cute that someone who is always so confident was now a muttering mess right in front of you.

“Y-yeah of course. You looked stunning.”

“Good thing I wore the matching one then huh,” slowly you started to unzip your jacket, revealing a look alike set in a light blue hue. You shimmied out of your yoga pants, dropping them to the floor and giving the two boys a full 360°. Swaying your hips, doing cute little poses.

“Fuck,” Trevor said under his breath. The pictures only did so much justice. Now he could see every curve in person. The jiggle of your ass as you turned in a circle, your boobs bouncing in that tight bra you wore.

You got on your knees and crawled over to them on the couch. You made your way to Trevor, leaning up and spreading his legs apart. You started to unbuckle his pants before Jack laid his hand atop yours.

“Woah sweetheart, too eager now. You know I’m too selfish to let anyone else get a piece of you. Trev’s just here to watch and see just how perfect you are.”

Your mouth went into an ‘o’, now knowing the extent of the ‘surprise’ Jack had for you. “Okay daddy, I understand now.” You moved on to Jack, actually getting to pull down his sweats and boxers. His dick sprung out, already hard from the little show you had just put on.

You took Jack’s dick into your hands, licking up and down the base of it before going to the tip. You started off slow, giving his tip kitten licks before fully taking it into your mouth. Trevor just watched, mouth agape as he could only imagine the sensations Jack was feeling. And by the reactions Jack was giving the head must’ve been damn good.

“Fuck princess, show Trev how good you can take my cock in your mouth,” Jack groaned as he threw his head back.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, the vibrations causing Jack’s dick to prematurely twitch. You took his member out of your mouth, letting some drool dribble from your plump lips to trail down his tip. With enough drool as lubricant, you took him back into your mouth and started blowing him at a steady pace. Your cheeks as hollowed as they could, your tongue swirling around as much as it could.

“Fuck, I love when you do that shit with your tongue,” Jack put his hand behind your head and pushed you down even further, causing you to gag. Trevor just got harder and harder, his dick print now showing through his jeans. He gave it a few rubs, the strain being almost too painful. He just had to get off to you. You saw him writhing in his seat.

“Take it out and stroke it. It must be awfully painful to be that horny and not do anything about it,” you smiled, out of breath. With that you went back to sucking off Jack, looking Trevor in his eyes. The eye contact did something to him, his dick starting to throb and his tip turning a shade of pink. Trevor quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled it out, his hand gripping his dick in an effort to release all the pent up pressure he was feeling.

Jack lifted you up, softly tossing you face first into the couch and taking a position behind up. He cupped your pussy and gave your clit a few rubs before spreading you out on his dick.

“Ohhhh my god,” you drawled out with the prettiest moan. Trevor could’ve busted just from that sound alone it was so angelic. Your hands gripped the head rest of the couch, Jack hitting it from behind intensely. All while Trev’s face was just mere inches away.

“Yeah, take it like the good girl you are,” Jack slapped your ass, with it reverberating as a red mark replaced where his hand once was. You let out a squeal, rubbing it a bit to sooth the sting.

Trevor fucked his hand vicariously, imagining it was you in its place instead. It might’ve sounded sick but he had now developed a deep lust crush on you. How could he not seeing how much of a good girl you were?

Jack flipped you over, putting you on your back and drilling into you. Your knees touching your chest and your legs slung over his shoulders. With this position Trevor got the perfect few of Jack going in and out of you. Your punani looked perfect, looking so tightly wrapped around Jack’s dick, your lips and folds moving along with him as he pushed himself in further and further. It took everything Trevor had inside of him to have enough discipline to not start playing with your clit right then and there. The way it just sat there glistening. But it was as if Jack could read his dirty thoughts in his dirty mind, Jack’s hand going to the base of your navel and then trailing down to toy with you clit.

“Mhmm daddy just like thatttt,” you moaned out breathlessly, all that stimulation starting to run through the rest of your body. Your legs started to twitch, you were going to cum soon at the rate Jack was fucking you.

“Get on top, show Trevor how you ride this dick,” Jack heaved, pulling you up and into a deep kiss. He dropped himself right on the couch, waiting for you to get on top.

“Of course daddy,” you giggled as you placed one knee on each side of him. For obvious reasons you knew you had to show out for Trevor and give your best performance. You touted yourself up before slowly sinking yourself into Jack’s dick, which caused him to let out a low gutteral groan. His hands made their way to your ass, gripping the supple flesh.

Gradually you picked up speed, arching your back as you lifted yourself up and grinding yourself back down to the base of his shaft. Trevor’s eyes just followed, up down up down up. You then got on the soles of your feet, giving you more spring with your bounce. Now you had more motion, moving your hips in circles and back and forth. With Jack still inside you you turned a 180°, your ass now facing him.

“Lemme see that ass clap baby,” Jack instructed with a slap of your bum. You steadied your feet on the floor, your hands on your knees as you started to lift your ass up again. You bounced yourself on Jack’s dick, his hands on your waist to help you steady your pace. In this position his dick was hitting just the right spot, bringing you closer to climax each time it would his the back of your walls.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna– I’m gonna cum,” you panted, turning around to look at him. It was getting difficult to keep up the pace, your stamina draining as your vision became starry.

“Uhnt uh, not until Trevor and I both finish, okay?” Jack gave your ass a squeeze. Those words turned you on, giving you an extra boost that you most definitely needed.

“Oh-okay,” you continued to ride him, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Trevor himself was close to finishing, the real life porn in front of him pushing him to the edge.

“Fuck I’m close,” Trevor finally groaned out, bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was the one fucking you from behind. It was a sick and twisted thing for him to fantasize but what else was he supposed to do seeing you ride Jack so immaculately? He sputtered out curse words a few moments later, busting out into his hand with a few stray cum drops landing on your ass.

Jack saw this, getting just a tad bit possessive over the seemingly nothing, now bucking his hips up and fucking you as you tried to steady yourself. He glanced over at Trevor for a second, seeing the green in his eyes. Jack gave him a smirk as to say ‘yup, this is mine and mine only. You only get the privilege to watch and to never touch.’

“Oh my fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you squealed as your legs started to go limp. Jack held you, still pumping in and out of you.

“There you go princess, ride it out for me,” he held you close to his body, his face in the crook of your neck leaving wet kisses. “Get on your knees I’m gonna finish on your face.”

You obeyed his command, hazily turning around and getting down on your knees. You looked up at him with a smile, your tongue sticking out like a puppy dog. Jack groaned, pumping his dick until he came, cum dripping out and onto your face and tongue. You giggled before licking up the drops that fell onto your lips. Jack bent down a left a kiss on your forehead.

“Did I do good daddy?” You asked, still on your knees.

“You did amazing and more my love, now go get dressed we’re gonna go out to eat,” Jack praised you. You nodded and went to your shared room, now going to change and maybe lay down for a few, so fucked out you could barely walk. Trevor just sat there, heaving and replaying this whole scenario in his head. All of this really happened, he had just watched his best friend fuck his girlfriend.

Jack turned over to Trevor, pulling up his sweats, “See, didn’t I tell you she was the perfect girl?”

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbor Pt. 16

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Nat knew from the moment the coffee machine broke that morning that something was off about today. Tony had bots clanging in the kitchen all day and every member of the tower was on the verge of strangling him. She didn’t feel up to going out though so she was forced to stay in her room all day. However, she didn’t expect her evening to go from 10 to 100 in a matter of minutes. And it all started with a text from you at 11 pm.

Not unusual for you but the message lacked your usual humor

Y/n🍦:

Nat.

No attempt at guessing her name, no witty quip to go along with it, no extra letters or emojis. 

Something was going on and she didn’t like the pit forming in her stomach. This was a situation she’d never found herself in. Did she act calm? Did she… call you?

She shook her head, she could be freaking out over nothing, maybe you just had a long day and you were tired. The voice in the back of her head scoffed, Nat knew she was only trying to convince herself that these next few moments weren’t about to happen.

Nat🔪:

Y/n.

What’s going on?

Y/n🍦:

Help i-

I think I’m being followed.

Nat🔪:

Think or your sure

Y/n🍦:

You’re*

Nat rolled her eyes. Of course, you were trying to be funny right now, humor was your biggest coping mechanism. She knew your humor was a defense against coming across as weak and vulnerable- it was an attempt to make the other person less aware of just how scared you were, but she knew. She knew you were probably shaking as you texted her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Y/n🍦:

Fuck.

I’m sure.

Nat’s heart sank. 

She could get your location from your phone but could she arrive in time? You lived in Brooklyn and she was in Manhattan- 12 miles away, at her fastest, she could probably get there in 30 minutes. Not enough time. Stalkers will only follow for so long before attacking. You didn’t know this man's intentions.

For you, this could be a life-or-death situation.

Still- she called Peter, he was on patrol tonight, hopefully, he was in your area. He picked up immediately, his boyish voice ringing awkwardly through her silent room. She didn’t give him the time to speak more.

“Peter there’s a girl in Brooklyn being followed” Her tone was solid, she couldn’t let the vulnerability she felt slip through either. It’s been many years since she’s felt this helpless about someone she cared about. And that was not a wound she was ready to reopen. God you were bringing out every part of her. 

Peter didn’t ask a single question, all Nat could hear was the thwip of his webs and the rush of wind against his phone. 

“I sent you the address, how close are you?” She heard the faint sound of him mumbling before Karen’s robotic voice repeated your phone’s location

“I’m 20 minutes away” It wasn’t fast enough but it was as good as she was going to get.

Nat🔪:

It’s okay Y/n

Have you called the cops?

Y/n🍦:

No, I tried calling Leon

He lives nearby i thought maybe-

fuck I’m so stupid

Nat🔪:

No, y/n, you’re not stupid

You’re scared.

You’re not going to be perfect at handling 

This kind of situation. No one is

Nat🔪:

Do you have any weapons in your bag?

Y/n🍦:

Nat listen-

If I don’t…

Nat🔪:

Don’t.

Y/n🍦:

Please.

Nat🔪:

No, i’m not listening to any requests you have

You’re going to be okay

Is he still there?

Y/n🍦: 

Yeah

I’ve walked around the block a few times

I don’t know where to go

Nat’s fingers itched over the call button, she would be a lot better at reassuring you over the phone. But her voice was raspy and recognizable, would you realize it was her as soon as she said hello? Would that be a bad thing? Could she risk telling you her identity? Could she trust you? After so many years and so many people were you finally going to be the one to break down her carefully constructed walls? She sighed frustratingly, now was not the time. You needed her. 

Y/n🍦:

Fuck 

I think he’s getting closer

Nat🔪:

Y/n go to a house with the light on

And knock on their door.

Or look for a large group of people.

Find a public space.

She was growing more desperate by the minute. God if she ever got her hands on the bastard that’s making you this petrified she was going to do more than just kill him.

“Peter, how far away are you?” 

“Five minutes Miss Romanoff” She could hear his breathlessness, she didn’t imagine it was easy to swing across buildings at that speed.

Nat🔪:

Y/n, keep talking to me okay?

Y/n🍦:

I don’t know why I decided to go out.

I just wanted some ice cream

I’m so stupid

Nat🔪:

No.

You are not stupid

This bastard is. Trust me.

Do you have high heels on?

Or your keys?

Y/n🍦:

No-

I walked to the store

Nat🔪:

Look for anything on the ground

A glass bottle or rocks

Y/n🍦:

Nat

I’m scared

Natasha waited for you to keep texting. Waited desperately for something witty to come across the screen, anything to let her know you were still safe. Peter was close now, close enough to hopefully make it before any irreparable damage is done but- if this guy has a weapon. She sucked in a sharp breath.

Nat🔪:

Y/n?

Y/n answer me.

y/n c’mon

Y/n. please. 

The dam broke. She hit the call button. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t care about you even a little bit. It rang and rang, stone cold silence filled her room between each shrill toll of her phone. Don’t panic. 

She stood and began pacing back and forth, running a shaky hand through her hair.

Each ring was torture- and she knew torture. Come on Y/n. Another blare of useless noise before the line connected. All she heard was a brief 'umph' before the line went dead.

Fuck.

Pt.17

A/n: giving Y/n more trauma 'for the plot' ;P ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723

[likedovesinthewindd]

gwen stacy x fem/gn reader (your choice ofc) where they’re both in an argument and confess in the rain and have a kiss in the rain?

gwen and reader are in college in this, btw.

gwen stacy x fem!reader

a/n: as I was writing this the only thing I could think about was how pissed I'd be if someone made me stand in the rain, I'd actually cry if my hair or clothes got wet 😭

Ever since college, the amount of time you and Gwen spent together had decreased dramatically, the both of you becoming too swamped in work and several other extracurriculars. But you still tried to make time to hang out; hence why you had managed to keep the tradition of Saturday movie nights alive. Every second Saturday one of you would choose a movie to watch, prepare a shit ton of snacks and catch up on each other's busy lives.

You'll admit, you always managed to talk a bit more than her, always having something to vent to her about. And she didn't mind; she'd always listen attentively, chiming in with a sarcastic comment or joke every now and then, but tonight what you had to say had her speechless to say the least. No joke or quick quips at hand this time.

"A date? With Harper?"

Harper was the girl you'd been talking to for a few weeks now. Gwen's met her once, and in that one time alone she had concluded that she didn't like her. She didn't really know why; Harper was a nice girl, kind and funny and outgoing like you, but Gwen just didn't like her. It definitely had nothing to do with the huge crush she had on you. Definitely not.

"Is it really that hard to believe?" you asked with a little laugh, insecurity lacing your voice. She shook her head rapidly. "Of course not, I'm just suprised that's all," she said, trying to not sound as bummed as she felt. She didn't know why the thought of you dating someone bummed her as much as it did. Maybe because you like her, dummy.

She shook her head again, trying to let the thoughts somehow dissipate in her mind. "Why are you suprised? I told you she might like me," you said, and she hated how small your voice sounded. Gwen didn't know what to say; how on earth do you tell your best friend about the crush you've been harboring on them for years now. The uncomfortable silence streatched on until you spoke up once again. "Why's it so difficult for you to imagine someone liking me? I get it, I don't often go on dates and stuff but I'm also human, I have feelings," you said.

"That's not what I meant, of course I'm happy for you, I just don't really like her, that's all," she tried. "Why not?" you asked, and Gwen winced at the slight anger in your voice. "I dunno I just," she took a deep breath, "I dunno, okay!" She wanted to crawl into a hole when she saw how her raised voice made you flinch. You quickly gathered your belongings and laced up your shoes. "I don't think I wanna do movie night anymore," and before she knew it, you were out the door with a slam.

✴︎ ˚｡⋆

It had been a week since you had last spoken to Gwen, and now you were sitting in your room quietly applying the last bit of makeup as you stared blankly at the mirror, your mind running a mile a minute.

Gwen was your best friend, you valued her opinion over everyone else's, but she always did this. Every time you liked someone, she'd be weird about it. She never liked the people you dated—always the excuse that they weren't "good enough for you" and always discouraging you from getting together with anyone.

The pellets of rain hitting your window broke you from your daydream. Great, now you had to go fishing for your umbrella. When you eventually found it and got more rain appropriate shoes, you made your way through the busy city on your way to your date.

You didn't enjoy the idea of arriving at the restaurant while soaking wet, so you were walking as fastyou possibly could, boots making little splashes with every step.

A small thwip sound and before you knew it, you were being hoisted up to who knows where by the top of your umbrella. Your grip on the handle tightened as you closed your eyes tightly, only opening them again once you felt solidity beneath your feet.

Before you had the chance to scream at the fact that a masked vigilante had potentially kidnapped you, the mask was being pulled off and Gwen was standing infront of you.

"Gwen?! You're—"

"Please don't go on that date," she said breathlessly. Your shoulders slumped. "Gwen, don't start," you said, trying not to get angry again. "Please, Y/N, I'm begging you," she said once again. If she had to get on her knees right now she probably would. Anything for you to not be mad at her anymore, to talk to her again.

You hadn't noticed the grip on your umbrella loosening until a strong wind caused it to fly right out of your hand. Gwen had tried to catch it with a web, but it was quickly way out of her reach thanks to the strong weather. Now you stoof on top of a building, wet and irritated beyond believe as your best friend (who was a superhero? maybe?) tried to get you out of a date.

"If you don't give me one good reason why you don't want me going on this date, I am going to turn around and leave, and I will never talk to you again," you said through gritted teeth, the cold already setting into your bones. You knew that to some degree it was an empty threat. Damn, you weren't even going to be able to walk away, but you were getting tired of whatever game Gwen was playing with you.

The silence, that felt like it lasted a lifetime and a half, was all you needed and you scoffed, turning around to hopefully find a roof hatch. When you saw it, you quickly made your way to it, mood souring with every splash your boots made. Like deja vu, you were once again roped in by a web, this time catching you totally by suprise. You basically crashed right into Gwen and before you had the chance to push off her or give her a piece of your mind, her soft lips were crashing into yours.

And for a few seconds, it felt so right. So perfect that you couldn't help but wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her back with equal passion. It only took you a few more seconds before your mind caught up with your actions, and you realized that you were kissing your best friend. You unwrapped your arms from her and pulled away as soon as the realization hit you.

"I can't let you go on that date because I can't stand thinking about you with anyone else," she stammered before you got to say anything. "I don't think Harper is good enough for you, I don't think anyone is good enough for you, including me. But I just want you to be happy. I wanna make you happy. Or try at least, but if that's not what you want, I understand, and I'll let you go—"

You figured the only way to silence her racing thoughts would be to kiss her again, so that's exactly what you did, and by the time you pulled away again, the dazed look on her face made your heart thump with happiness.

"You do make me happy, Gwen," you said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "I just wished you would've told me how you felt sooner. Would've known that I feel the same," you added before she pulled you into another brief kiss, clearly overjoyed at your confession. You pulled back one last time with a smile that quickly turned into a frown when you felt the way your clothes were clinging to your body.

"Now get me out of the rain, please!"

[trrickytickle]

The Tea Word 🕸️🫖

GIF by liurnia

A/N: STILL NEED TO REPLY TO MESSAGES!!!!! Okay okay Liya let's get on track. DO. REQUESTS! goes without saying that the movie is goated but like, I was gonna write some Gwen (Stacy) but I had a silly and stupid idea and it snowballed. Soooo here's some Pav and Miles enjoooy blehhh (lee!Miles, ler Pavitr)

Pavitr procures pipin' hot chai for the spider-gang, but Miles still says it the wrong way. Luckily, an unmissable opportunity comes by for Pavitr to correct his mistake.

Spiced sweetness wafted through the air in the rec-room of the elite spider society, a pleasant aroma to the chattering spider-people, who mostly were bundled up into their own clique. Lego Spider-Man was recounting his fight with an evil businessman with huge pants to Spider-Cat, Peni was cleaning out SP//dr, and Miles, Gwen and Hobie were being served tall and sweet mugs of chai by Pavitr Prabhakar. With perfect barista-like precision, he procured two warm mugs and with a THWIP! they slid across the bar to the trio. Miguel was definitely going to give him an earful for serving the anomaly, but he did owe the spider-people one after saving Inspector Singh and his girlfriend in Mumbattan. With a dash of cinnamon, the drinks slid across the counter faster than any of them could say "My Spidey senses are tingling". Hobie took a sip, slamming his glass onto the counter. "Bloody amazing. Oi, Pav, you reckon this is why we bought out your plantations?" Gwen giggled, Miles briefly glancing at her apprehensively, going back to blowing on his chai and taking a generous swig. The political quip earned a chuckle and a playful shove from Pavitr. "Oh, yes, absolutely. Much better than spotted dick. Why's it called that anyways? Spotted dick.." Burning her tongue, Gwen winced with a high pitched -squeal!-. Miles laughed. "Shit, guess that's too hot for you." he teased, blowing on her tea. "What even was that?" "Shut it, Spider-Boy." Gwen chided. "Ahh… Man, this is some good chai tea.." Miles sighed, startled when the bar stilled with the loud noise of Pavitr's exasperated sigh. "Miles, Miles, my guy, we've been over this! CHAI. MEANS. TEA. You're seriously still saying chai tea!? It's JUST! chai!" Miles stammered, arms flailing like two eels out of water. "Wh- Look, bro, bro, back up, I'm used to it-" "Yeah, no wonder e' forgot. Bloke's bleedin' from 'is head down to 'is armpits." As he attempted to defend himself, Hobie very unexpectedly traced up the red lining in the armpits on Miles' suit, and he let out a high-pitched snicker. Making him flinch, Gwen and Pavitr both jumped back at Miles' reaction. Gwen giggled. "Yeah.. what even was that? You laugh like a girl." "That's a patriarchal construct." Hobie quipped back and nonchalantly sipped his tea. Miles shrugged. "Ticklish." Hobie backed up apologetically, keeping his hands to himself. "S'embarrassing. Think I probably would've glitched." Pavitr walked out from in front of the counter to the bar-stools where the spider-people sat behind Miles- (..hopefully only to join the other Spider-People) -and playfully jabbed at his sides. "-IIIEEE!-" "I- I mean it's all the same with you people! "Ghee butter".. "Naan bread".. gh- Y-You know what? You know what I'm gonna say to you now?" The spider-person wildly gestured with a ribbing enthusiasm, prodding Miles, who curled away in nervous anticipation. Just as suddenly as he had jumped up, Pavitr jammed his hands into Miles' armpits, spidering from there down to his ribs.

"Gudi-gudi-gudi-gudi-gudi! Tickle tickle!" The look on his masked face was determined and sly, eager to dish out playful karma. He teased, sure to rub in his grammatically correct Hindi-speaking, at machine-gun speed that went as fast as his dextrous fingers.

"Heh-hEEH-hahaHAAI'M- no! C'mon, wehe're friends, right-st-he-h-hha-Stop, stoppitst-hhhHh!! Sh-IH-ihit, man!" Miles sputtered, flailing like an awkward goose. "Ghh-Gwen! Gwen, help, he's attacking mE-!!"

She only ignored him, squealing and blushing with every octave of Miles' laughter and desperately trying not to be involved, Pavitr's prying teasing only filling her with slightly more dread.

"Hoho-heh-Hob-IEEE!! HELP!!" His hyperbolic pleas once again fell on deaf ears while Hobie's news-clipping phone case was pressed in the mugs of the two tussling Spider-People. Pavitr kept poking Miles in the ribs, gradually moving down his sides, prodding and teasing with a fascinated zest unil he reached his suit-clad tummy, which he clawed up and down, up and down, up and- it was driving Miles insane.

"Come oooon, say it, Miles! Chai is…"

"Teehee-HEEEE!!"

"Can't hear you! Chai is.." Giggling a little himself, Pavitr kept poking, making sure to harshly jab at Miles' stomach or armpits or wherever caused the best reaction as he was about to admit his "mistake". Much to his chagrin, Gwen was still acting …strange, and Hobie had recorded up to the three-minute mark by this point.

"Chahahai is tHHEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HE!" "Stop laughing and just say it! What's so funny about masala chai, huh? Huh?" "You're the one tickling me-hehehe!" Miles attempted to swat Pavitr away, sometimes succeeding with his spider sense. "Ooooh-hohoho, then this must be a really bad spot!" Pavitr chimed, spidering the space between Miles' ribs and sides. "Yeahaha-hah, no shit!" "So, what is chai?" His laughter grew louder as Pavitr moved down to his back, sliding his fingers down it. His eyes widened- he had control in those earlier moments of playful banter- but out of pure dumb luck (and probably prayer), oblivious ol' Pav had unknowingly found his worst spot. "Shi-HIT!-SHIHI-HIT! AHA-HH-HAH!" "Shit? Chai is shit?" Pavitr mock-gasped. "The audacity!"

"Nohohoho! Chaha-Chai tehe-HEEEA!- It's good!"

"Come on, you still don't get it?" Pavitr bluffed. "I thought we were friends, Miles!" He ramped up his fast flying finger movement as his digits climbed up and down Miles' ribs like he was speed-crawling up Mumbattan highways. "I'll give you One. More. Chance. Say it."

"Chai-chahaiisteehEEhee!-" Miles panted in exhaustion, Pavitr stilling his fingers as Hobie set down his phone and Gwen perked up from hiding her face on the bar's counter.

"-pant- -WHEW- Ne-heh-ver… neveragain…"

"Wow, great job, Miles, that only took you like, three tries." Pavitr quipped, fist-bumping Hobie. Said spider-anomaly quenched his laughed-out throat by guzzling the rest of his cold chai. Gwen perked up and kept composure, patting Miles' back. "Looked ...intense." she shivered. Hobie shrugged. "Just a spot of fun. I'll send you the video." "Iiiiiiranouddastorage." Gwen bluffed, blushing. Hobie slugged her in the arm, smiling. "Pork pies. (Cockney-ism for "lies") C'mon, we're mates, make some space for me, willya?" The shared air of laughter was greeted by a frown of disdain and glare from Miles. Pavitr pattted him on the back and gave him a smile. "C'mooon, go get her! I can't bear this!" "I-It's not like that!!" ----------------------------- The camraderie came to a close with a blanket of snow-white glow, enveloping the Spider-People fast as lightning would. Everything- the mugs- the counter- Lego Spider-Man- would be gone without a trace. It was an anomaly not even this lot could fix, and the events from earlier all washed away. 4 dAYS Avengers: Secret Tickle Wars- Part III Everything will change.

[kninedlog]

For context:

So my partner and I are currently fucked up; well I'm fucked up and they're getting there, and they just said the funnest shit involving the topic of our quip game.as on rn -

"I'm like a Batam trying to be spiderman! Are you kidding!??" So in response I let my intrusive thoughts win for a second and thwip a bit sound effects and all then he goes

"Batam just has a speaker on his wrist that thwips before he zips off,"

[heymob]

they are like brothers to me

[izzysarchivedblogs]

There were SEVERAL new notes that were scattered around Clint's home, all left by a CERTAIN spider boyfriend. The note system was his favorite, and he refused to ever stop doing it. The notes are as followed: The first note had been left right on the front door.

'Hawkbae <3 I might not be home tonight :( : ( Something came up, it might take all night. Nothing to worry about though! - Pete ❤' The second immediately next to the first.

' By the way I found your phone in the bronx? I put it on charge for you in the roooom. - Petey ❤ '

The third was next one was on the arm of the couch, next to an extra pair of pajama pants and Peter's warm and cozy hoodie next to it.

' If you watch star trek without me, I will know.. and I will pout! But I found a new show you might like! I put it in your watchlist on amazon! - ur captain ❤ '

The fourth was on the fridge.

'Oh mighty landlord~ I fixed that one broken dishwasher in 1A Also managed to get around to fixing some of the electrical in the main lobby, and I fixed 2B's dishwasher! OH! and the one busted mailbox that was making the weird noise! - ur humble assistant ❤ The fifth note was waiting in the fridge on top of a fresh gallon of chocolate milk as well as a few baked goods. (not a single clue on the fourth that the fifth even existed inside.)

' prettttty bird ❤❤ I saw you were running low on milk so i got you some more, and i picked up a few other snacks. The pie is all yours, freshly made by YOURS TRULY, also I made the building some cookies and I made you extras! - ur friendly little baker ❤❤❤'

The sixth note could be found could be found new the takeout menus. (Peter liked to think he knew his boyfriend's routines rather well.)

'hey hungry bird ❤ I already called ahead your usual place they should be bringing your food by soon. (And if you are late they should have left you a note to call them and they would swing by why yes i am a PREPARED SPIDEY!) - a prepared boi ❤' The last note could be found in the bedroom right next to Clint's alarm clock and a little wrapped present. Inside the box was a little black bracelet. It was a special kind that was especially made for long distance couples (Yes he knows they aren't long distance but away missions are sometimes a bitch and they are needy asses)

'Hey love, I know it's a little silly, but I saw these.. and you know with our jobs I thought maybe? I'm already wearing mine. I love you - Forever yours, Peter ❤'

THE REALITY OF THEIR LINE OF WORK ⸺ LIFESTYLE ⸺ WAS THE INEVITABLE PASSING SHIPS WEEKS.

It was bound to happen, their first few months of this relationship had been stable; several months actually. Long enough time, although with the nature of their lives and who they were? It had seemed they had both FALLEN FAST.

That was kind of HARD NOT TO DO. The guy had quips and thwips, could keep up with Clint's talk (out talk him any day), was as dramatic as Clint was (an impossible task). He's been in this as long as Clint as too, so he's known and he still goes about all of this trying to maintain two identities. Something that Clint had always wondered if he should have done, been precious about, but than he sees how it affects Peter and he's maybe glad that he never had been.

Peter's smart and kind, the typical stuff that everyone always says in romance movies. By far no where perfect, and the fact they were both risk takers (and had been at odds once or twice before about work was proof of it). HE'S LEARNING CLINT, KNOWING HIM. One of the few who will know Clint; all the detail he wants and gets out of him. There's a whole twenty something years of his life, before the Avengers, before anyone knew him. PETER GETS ALL OF THEM IF HE WANTS.

In a lot of ways, Clint knows that they were similar. Reflections upon each other; although he would argue that Parker Luck is a lot better than Barton Luck. NOT SOMETHING THAT HE'D SAY. That would actually end up being an argument, or not something that would go over well. He'd take Parker Luck any day over Barton Luck. HOPES that their relationship is running on Parker Luck than his own. STILL HE KNOWS THEY WORE THE SAME HATS SOMETIMES.

They had each other's keys, lived half here and half there. Something about the heart living where the other was at. There had been the few funny times, when they couldn't coordinate with each other to save their lives. Peter ending up at Clint's, while he's at Peter's. HOME MADE IN TWO PARTS. They laughed at those times, calling each other over the phone and razzing the other for being at the other's place. DEBATING WHOSE COMING TO WHO.

The past two weeks, they have felt more like passing ships. It was inevitable, with seeing each other for less hours in a day or not even the whole day. The city being slammed with attacks, with supervillain schemes and plots that the Thunderbolts were called in on, that would bleed over into days long worries. DEMANDING ALL OF CLINT'S ATTENTION AND HIS LEADERSHIP. He slept at the fucking office last night, after a very late drop in at a meeting because it's been that kind of the week. Had to call Peter from the office, just to chat with him and tell him that he was missing him again tonight. Clint rarely stayed at the office if he could help it, but the team was tired or had more on their plates, so he had sent them home and stayed back and did all the reports, sat through the debriefing with Helen and than with the Mayor Luke Cage. PRESS AND ALL KINDS OF SHIT.

On top of that, Clint has been doing some UNDERGROUND work that he absolutely had to be careful with doing, like the Captain America network that he helped when Steve called in on him. Any work like that, whether it was simply exchanging information and offering tips or actually suiting up and bringing weapons, if any of that came up while he was working for the mayor's office and Thunderbolts? That would be trouble for him. Clint's not leaving people hanging though, not arresting other superheroes, and he's helping his fellows. IF HIS DAY OF RECKONING COMES? SO BE IT.

He's down, there's a slump to his shoulders as the end of the day comes. Clint hasn't had his phone in over three days, which he has no idea where he lost it. Probably T-Bolts patrol or an emergency call. Depression has been creeping in, something of which Peter and his therapist has noted, to which Johanna had asked him how he was going to practice healthy coping and manage it. HE KNOWS THE ANSWER SHE WANTS.

Getting to his front door, which he had come to second (Peter's place had been empty). He'll worry about his phone later. YET ⸻ SQUEEZE HIS HEART AND LUNGS. There's a note on the door.

FIRST ⸻ This sticky note, green in color, starts with HAWKBAE. Occasionally, as a joke not joke, he wonders if he should change his hero name to that. If only, because the nickname amuses him so much. A SIGH HEAVES AS HE READS. Clint hates to think that, of course, with how his week has been going. Barton Luck would double down, and he's not seeing a certain man tonight. It's okay, but he does wonder (nothing to worry about though!) about where and when Peter has even gone off. If it's Spider-Society stuff, which is the one he worries, because he knows about the whole multiverse, getting displaced or trapped in another universe. EARTH-666 WAS A MONSTER HELLSCAPE. It's the reason he has a joke grudge against Brian Braddock and the country of the British. No longer can a Smiths song be enjoyed. He will in fact, worry a little about Peter, and hope that he comes home in one piece and no bruised ego either. He'll spoil him, absolutely when he got here; or he'd go over there.

SECOND ⸻ The next sticky note is a different color, orange, and shorter than the first. Signed with Petey and a heart; he is his GODDAMN HEART. Oh, so it had been a T-bolts patrol that Clint had lost his phone. What had gone on that day he was walking the street of the Bronx like a beat cop? It doesn't matter, he has his phone back and possibly a lot of texts, emails, and missed call to catch up on. A call to Peter later, NEEDED. Honestly, was there a word for more than needed?

The two notes are plucked off of the door, than he's fumbling with his keys until the door unlocks. When he enters in the apartment, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself at first. How many days had it been since he was here? It's not that long again, but after spending the night in the HQ, it had felt longer. No boyfriend here. DAMN. The duffel bag he is carrying, gets half tossed to the side of the couch as he decides he had just needs to sink into the couch for a few minutes. HE JUST NEEDED THAT. Tv remote acquired in hand, flicking through what he was going to watch, until. . .

THIRD ⸻ a pink note is noticed. He picks it up, reads it and there's that twitterpated feeling that he gets about Captain Dork of the Spiderprise. While readding the note, his eyes draw over to notice the pajama pants and a hoodie. One that Peter tended to throw on when he was walking Lucky, of whom he imagines is at Kate's since Clint has been too all the place the past two weeks. I WILL KNOW... AND I WILL POUT. His face was cute when he pouted, but Clint's hart could not handle a pouty Peter. TWITTERPATED FOR HIM.

He had still been in his thunderbolts uniform, so he turns on the amazon app to see what Peter had put on his watchlist. Clint stands with a groan, to get up and shuck off his uniform. It's kind of dropped dropped to the side of the couch. He can worry about that later when his battery is charged up. HAPPIER ALREADY WHEN HE'S IN PETER'S HOODIE. It smells like him, wonders if it's so weird that he hugs himself and smells into the hood. Clint's on the couch, paying as much attention that he can spare for tv show until his stomach gets rumbly.

FOURTH ⸻ There's another note, blue, on fridge, that's new amongst the other notes he keeps up. OH MIGHTY LANDLORD, has he smiling. A half laugh, which ends in a full laugh a his eyes scan the note. HUMBLE ASSISTANT. Was he going to call Peter his humble assistant next time they get frisky, a little roleplay to add the spice? Absolutely, that was happening. GET HOME TOMORROW, PETER. He's glad that Peter's been able to check in with the tenants while the five boroughs of New York have been slammed with calls for the Thunderbolts appearance. He knows everyone loves Peter. HE DOES TOO.

The fact there was a note on the fridge, should have alerted Clint that another note was coming. Why wouldn't there be a note in the fridge? He was pretty sure he's eaten a sticky-note left by Peter before, because he put it in the fridge and Clint wasn't paying attention.

FIFTH ⸻ Yellow note. PRETTY BIRD. Stop flirting with me in notes, Peter, and COME HOME TO DO IT IN PERSON. Clint was going to blame Mayday for the reason he was low on milk this time. HE HOPES HE SEES HIS BUG SOON TOO. Watching all her favorite cartoons, naptime, the games they play, and then teaching her how to be the coolest Honorary Hawkeye (sorry Peter and Spiderman). Clint goes for the milk, and a few snacks but he was definitely going to order something in as there's no way he's cooking with the exhaustion that seeps in his bones.

That leads to the next note that he will find. IT'S LIKE PETER IS FOLLOWING HIM AROUND. ❝ I swear, Parker, if you are Truman Show-ing me! ❞ He says out loud, with a laugh to himself as he goes to look through the takeout menu pile underneath the landline phone. It should maybe bother him how much Peter knew his routines, knew his mind. Perhaps, it's creepy, but instead he likes the feeling that he's watched over by Spiderman. HE JUST FEELS VERY LOVED.

SIXTH ⸻ Red. HUNGRY BIRD. They hadn't shown up and he hadn't noticed a note, which makes Clint wonder how many minutes he had missed Peter by. The usual place, usually needed an order head, because of the distance and traffic, preparation time. So he should be expecting the food in twenty minutes and HE'S OVERWHELMED. Laughing at the way that Peter signs off on this note. PREPARED. How that knucklehead ever has any self image issues (he knows how and why; clint sees peter's) when he's absolutely wonderful, loving, and a total dork. ADORABLE DORK. CAPTAIN DORK. ADORKABLE.

The food arrives, with Clint leaving them a big additional tip and he's eager to dig into whatever Peter has ordered for him. HE DIGS IN. Crashed out on the couch, with the tv on for two hours. A slice of pie (he can make pie, holy shit, he's going to be obsess over that fact) and some cookies were had. He never has to try to bake again with Peter being around. Clint does saves a little bit from everything from the takeout order, just for Peter. Puts it in the fridge, so that he had something to eat when he got back in from whatever was keeping him all night. Writes a note himself to stick on the front door before he locks the door.

ONE ⸺

Peter <3

leftover in fridge for you

romance is not dead

you = my whole heart

Clint <3

He knows what his therapist would say, but he also knows that he was tired. That he's done about as much self-care as possible, and half of that was a result of the six notes that he had in his pocket. CLINT GOES RIGHT TO HIS BED. That's when he notes the little wrapped box in Spiderman themed wrapping paper. DORK. HIS BOYFRIEND IS A DORK. Followed along with it comes the last note, that he's noticed.

SEVEN ⸻ Purple paper, his favorite color. HEY LOVE. He's so deep in love with him, they both were. It's been a long time that he's had a new love, and how Clint hopes so much that this last. No other shoe dropping, no luck running out, no time being up. HEY LOVE. Clint's unwrapping the box that Peter has called silly, which he'll be the judge of that. There's a black bracelet in it, which Clint normally does not wear much in terms of accessories. A watch here and there, hair ties on his wrist (not that he ever needed them for his hair; but for flinging at people and now, he used them for Mayday's wild hair when it was bothering her). He looks back at the note. I LOVE YOU, FOREVER YOURS, PETER. Clint loves him too, and he hopes that forever lasts.

He kisses this note, which may be silly, but there's no one around to judge. ALREADY WEARING MINE. He reads the little paper that comes with the bracelet, from the company about what this was and how it worked (he can tell that Peter had taken it out already; meaning there must have been some set up done). Clint puts it on, an immediately he's pushing at the sun on, which blinks a dim light. He presses a few times, hoping, waiting for it to reach Peter. WONDERS IF HE COULD FIGURE OUT WHAT THE VIBRATION RATE WAS. They could do morse code with these, if they work.

A few minutes place, it goes dark and he reaching over for his phone. He lays down, tucking himself in and dims the brightness on his phone immediately to go to his text messages to CAPTAIN DORK OF THE SPIDERPRISE, ignoring everything else.

Before he even gets the chance to text anything, the bracelet light up and vibrates ⸻ WARMTH SPREADS. The warmth spreads between the cold and hollow spaces between his bones. FLUTTERING. Butterflies flutter through his stomach, up through his chest cavity, than get caught in his throat. SWALLOWING. CONSUMING. ⸻ He has got to be too old to feel this amount of love, to be this giddy over a bracelet vibrating, and FILLED TO THE CUP with love. He pushes the button again, how obsessed and distracted were they going to be about this?

Clint opens back his phone to text Peter.

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> I love you

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> Stay safe

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> Call me as soon as you can

[museincarnate]

Introducing: Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man!!!

THWIP!

"Yeah, sorry Miles! I know I promised we'd go on patrol together, but duty calls! You know how it is, right? You are Spider-Man." Apologetic but honest inflections left the lips of the mentoring Wall-Crawler, as he swung through New York; just recently ending a call with his protege. Immediately after hanging up, Peter would look at a high-tech watch on his left wrist; words and lights changing, signaling him to return to Spider Society HQ. After recent events, though, he'd returned to his own dimension to detox from... Whatever someone would want to call that ordeal.

Regardless of his hesitant reservations, though, that lone voice of a long-gone father figure played through in his head, to keep him on the right path of judgment. With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility...

A Hexagonal gateway of orange hue opened up before him, when he'd settled on a rooftop to covertly activate said gateway to go to HQ, and he'd quickly pass through unseen. Once there, the Webhead would quickly find that anomalies were becoming a more rampant problem, as most other Spider-People had become wrapped up in similar affairs; leaving a slight tension in the air.

"I really wish Miles could see this place. Pretty sure he's not ready for it yet, though. Baby steps, Pete... Baby steps." Taking a deep breath, Peter Parker would adjust the settings on his dimensional watch, and open yet another portal, to where the most recent anomaly was detected; almost carelessly doing so to a degree that he hadn't checked what Earth he'd be sending himself to. Without further delay, Spider-Man would send himself through the dimensional gateway, emerging in...

A place called West City?!

"That's... Weird." THWIP! The Wall-Crawler aimed his web-shooters at a nearby building, and pulled himself to its rooftop; perching against its edge with a raised eyebrow, hidden under his mask.

"Any Earth I've been to since joining the Spider Society has had some twist on the name of New York, or just gets called New York. West City?" A slight sigh would escape the Friendly Neighborhood Hero, before that quick wit of his made him pass an old quip; nearly devaluing just how much of a predicament he seemed to have found himself in.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore..."

[ross-hollander]

Yeah yeah, 'undermining the gravity of the scene', but with the entire Spider-Society after him there is no way that the puns weren't just flying. Hundreds of Spiders in a mass thwip-n-quip through the place. More jokes about 'beside myself' and 'my worst enemy, me' than you could count.

[spinnychaircirclecasting]

There are two components to being Spiderman - the thwip-thwip and the quip-quip