#so sorry to the spider from just now. i know your life wasn't supposed to go like that.

[vulpinesaint]

sorry about the spider guts on the wall. i wish they were mine

[hypnagogics]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[fxllfaiiry]

─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.

✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.

✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️

At first, you didn't quit the team. 

After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving. 

But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.

Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far. 

Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in. 

You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not. 

It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months. 

A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing. 

"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself. 

���── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you. 

"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.  

"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday. 

"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said. 

"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.  

"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him. 

"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually. 

"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Miguel on the other hand was depressed. 

He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.

He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best. 

He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage. 

"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance. 

"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears. 

"Well, you gotta try, Boss." 

"Sunflower used to call me that." 

"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten." 

"Lyla, that's enough-" 

"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much." 

"I don't-" 

"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office. 

"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you. 

"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly. 

Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.

"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her." 

"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything. 

But eventually, it all started to feel okay.

Things were finally starting to look good for you. 

You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest. 

You were moving on. 

Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something. 

You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace. 

Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.  

When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch. 

"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice. 

"I was here t-"

"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it. 

"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed. 

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen. 

"Just listen to me for a second." 

"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself. 

He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely." 

"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better. 

"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.

"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do. 

"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

"I'm in love with you." What? 

"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay."  You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.

"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue. 

"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth? 

"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered. 

When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. 

"Can you… say something? Please?"

"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him. 

"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline. 

You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that. 

Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him. 

"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there. 

"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance. 

"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks. 

He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever. 

"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him. 

"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.

Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.

Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.

"Could you, not tel-" 

"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day. 

The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back. 

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly. 

"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much." 

"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently. 

"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically. 

"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned. 

"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family. 

Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now. 

"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise. 

"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that." 

"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?" 

"I have my ways." 

"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret. 

"I have my ways." Jess winked. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again. 

Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new. 

You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence. 

He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed. 

He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers. 

You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back. 

So, you finally decided to tell him. 

You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company. 

"Hey, Miguel." 

"Hm?" 

"I forgive you." 

He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically. 

"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly. 

"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.  

"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance." 

"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently. 

"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you. 

"I want you to go out on a date with me." 

His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date. 

"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you. 

"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening. 

"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled. 

"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling. 

He couldn't wait for tomorrow. 

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[fandomnerd9602]

The One I Want

Laura Kinney x Spiderpool!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Do you know that one moment where you just feel like you screwed everything up spectacularly? well that happened to me rather recently. Oh sorry where are my manners? my name is (Y/N) (L/N) and on my world I’m known as the spectacularly annoying Spider-Pool. The spectacularly annoying part is debatable.

You see it all started when the TVA zapped me into the void, something about being an anomaly, a profane and unholy combination of both Spider-Man and Deadpool. Honestly, it’s just the best of both worlds in my book or it would be a book if I wasn’t more than just one panel in comic book of the spider verse. True story look it up.

Or it could’ve been the fact that I killed Jared Leto, oh not Morbius. I’m saying I literally killed Jared Leto. It was an accident. I thought I was going after Morbius but oh well.

To make a long story short, I was forced to team up with X-23 or Laura as she likes to be called. One of my all time favorite X-Men characters by the way!

Anyway we found ourselves at an agreement, if I got her back to her timeline and out of the Void she would help me do the same. A good deal all things considered. The only downside is the TVA is so flip floppy. I mean one show it’s the villain the next show it’s good? Fiege, please make up your mind about what the TVA is?!

“You’re sure this plan of ours will work?” Laura told me as we drove thru the woods towards the reported base of the resistance found in the Void.

“If it works, I’ll be happily back in my world by this time tomorrow, Fun Size” Laura’s eyes went wide and she slammed on the brakes, nearly sending me flying into the windshield.

“If?! What do you mean if?!” She was screaming at me. My mind could only formulate the truth. I thought truth telling was Captain America's problem?!

"The TVA are hunting me and I need to get back home to save my world." Oh yeah it all came out like a big old truth salad. A truth salad that you order from Pizza Hut and immediately regret.

Laura began screaming and banging her fists against the steering wheel, "Are you fucking kidding me?! Out of all the spider totems to get stuck in the Void with and I end up with you!"

Oh I knew exactly where this was heading. A teenage superhero such as myself could only baton down the hatches and listen as this beautiful teenage fighting machine chewed me out. How is this both the most embarrassing and fulfilling moment of my life?

"I end up with the biggest fuck up in the multiverse! A spider-deadpool equivalent that couldn't save his Aunt May or Uncle Ben. Twice!"

It's true. I even somehow got my universe's Sean Bean killed. Yes. That Sean Bean. He wasn't even playing my Uncle Ben or anything!

Laura continued her little tirade, "No wonder the Spider Society turned you down! And the Avengers too! You can't save anyone or anything. Your world hates you! The girls you were supposed to love hate you! Mary Jane couldn't stand you. Gwen probably enjoyed death more than you!"

I could feel the anger rising up in the pit of my heart.

"The greatest joke is that no matter how much you wish for death to be with Gwen, you can't die! And it's one of God's greatest jokes on us instead of you!!!"

I was left in stone cold utter silence. I could feel my vision beginning to turn as red as my outfit.

"What?! No witty comeback?!"

"I'm going to fight you now" was all that left my mouth. And you know what? I meant it. Every. Last. Fucking. Word.

"Oh are you-?" THWIP! I shot one of my web guns, a web flew right over her mouth. The anger immediately flared in her eyes. Next thing I knew she lunged at me, claws out.

She grabbed my head and slammed it several times against the car radio. I grabbed her and gently pushed her against the driver seat. Hey I may be in a fight for my life but I’d still never hurt a woman.

Laura took one of her claws and ran it over the web, cutting it. I really should have taken Fictional Chemistry to understand that admantium is stronger than webs.

“This is ridiculous! I can’t hurt a girl!”

“A girl can hurt you!” She retorted before driving her claws in my lungs.

I kicked her straight thru the windshield of the Odyssey and into the forest in front of us. She simply smirked and dove right back thru. I had to admire her tenacity and endurance.

That admiration was interrupted with the familiar feeling of Adamantium being driven straight thru me, over and over.

She began muttering something in Spanish. Sadly I didn’t have the subtitles on so I couldn’t exactly know what she was saying. My Spanish only goes as far as my name: la piscina de aranas.

I pinned her to the second row seats, which were flattened like my heart was after the dog’s death in John Wick.

Laura simply laughed and kicked me straight thru the roof of the Honda. I landed on the roof with a sickening thud and rolled off, hitting the forest floor.

Laura, ever the tease, looked at me thru the window and gave me a come at me signal. “I am a teenage superhero,” I found myself wondering, “how am I terrified and yet so turned on?”

I pulled out my punch daggers and dived right thru the side window.

We traded blows and slashes. She let out a few huffs and groans. She straddled me and begins driving her claws repeatedly, coating the interior with a lovely shade of my blood.

She paused and looked at me in concern, “is that a Glock in your pocket?!”

“I never keep a Glock in there” I laughed before pulling out another gun, “I keep a Desert Eagle!”

Blam! Blam! I fired off several shots at her, one of which hit her rib and the other hit one of her claws.

“That all you got?” She asked me thru gritted teeth.

I grabbed my web gun and shot off several shots, encasing one of her arms in a giant web. She cut right thru it and lunges at me again. She forced us into the remaining back third row. Yeah the Odyssey has three rows. Three rows of get your freak on.

Next thing I knew Laura was looking at me with those brown eyes of hers. It had a mixture of anger and... Wait what was that? Is that lust?!

Well I guess it was. Because the next thing I knew she was driving her claws into the sides of the seats to my left and my right and then she kissed me full on lip lock with teeth hitting mine lip lock. Holy Stan Lee!

Each little growl that escaped her mouth was like a bit of heaven, a symphony to my ears, and quite possibly a fear of hell.

“I…uhh…” my brain tried to comprehend the exact situation that I was going through. It was something so great and yet so terrifying and couldn’t help it intrigue me even more.

“You talk too much” was her only response before she continued her onslaught of kisses. And boy was she right.

She shoved me down onto the remaining back seat, her lips never leaving mine. I began rubbing little circles into her back as the Honda continued rocking back and forth.

It was night by the time we had worked thru all of our differences…and no we did not go any farther than a PG-13 would allow.

Laura nuzzled me, laying against my chest. We shared a bottle of Coke that we found earlier. I gotta admit, besides the whole trying to kill me thing, I could really see a long partnership with her. Both crime fighting and in private.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. “It’s not your fault. The TVA is just the worst.”

“Yeah” I agreed, “sorry I shot you with a Desert Eagle”

Laura simply smirked and held up the bullet before dropping it on the Honda’s floor. “I’ll help you get back home”

“I’ll make sure you have a home to get back to.” I smiled at her and gave her forehead a little kiss.

“Aww” a new voice broke the silence. Laura and I turned to see Deadpool and Wolverine staring at us from outside the Honda.

“Young love” Deadpool chimed in.

OK, so not exactly how I was expecting this whole date to go, but I gotta say turn out better than I thought it would. And what can I say the Honda Odyssey really fucks.

[werepuppy-steve]

july fic rec

a monthly rec series to help me with my tbr

this was supposed to be june's fic rec, but i was way too busy with real life things to actually sit down and read anything, so this is a combo of the few fics i already had drafted and what i actually read this month.

FULL DISCLOSURE: some of these were read and bookmarked in previous months but for some reason didn't end up on any rec post??? this is me remedying that

❀ <- may fic rec ❀ more fic recs ❀ my ao3

like a virgin - E, 1.6k, complete bdelaney

tags: transmasc steve, established relationship, cunnilingus, fisting, squirting

It’s not that the rumors of Steve’s promiscuity are wrong exactly. There’s just been some stretching of the truth involved, rumors with details that he doesn’t deny despite their inaccuracy. Because despite the fact that he’s spent many nights with his face buried between the thighs of his many conquests, no one has gotten his pants off to service him the way he does others, and that’s by design. But Eddie complicates things, as he has a tendency to do, because Steve wants to be selfish for once. Wants his first time being touched to be Eddie. It’s all he can think about.

Tender Headed - G, 1.5k, complete (ao3) @steddie-island | kintsugi_kid

tags: hairstylist eddie, touch starved steve, fluff, meetcute

Steve almost has a breakdown when his self-care routine is threatened, but stylist Eddie is happy to step in

glacé (candied peach) - E, 11.8k, complete @hawkinsbnbg

tags: omegaverse, alpha eddie, omega steve, true mates, light dubcon/under-negotiated kink, creep/perv eddie, rockstar eddie

"What made an angel like you fall into my lap, hm?" A husky voice sounded in his ear. Startled, Steve let out a squeak. But the arm around his waist stopped him from falling out of the stranger's lap. "Relax, Angel," the man chuckled warmly. "I won't bite." Steve wasn't sure he could do that. He felt like he was in a grave danger. The kind of dying-from-embarrassment danger.

Falling Into the Deep End - E, 2/2, complete (ao3) @stevesjockstrap | deansdemondick

tags: tattoo artist eddie, modern au, swimmer steve

Corroded Coffin Tattoo gets a new client that shakes up their summer.

Birthday Blues - T, 4.5k, complete (ao3) @steviewashere

tags: alcoholism, angst, emotional abuse, hurt/comfort, steve has a good mom

"He thought his twentieth birthday would come with more fanfare. Maybe not the whole calvary. But something simple. A cake, maybe. A card, possibly. Even just a simple “Happy Birthday.” That would’ve sufficed. And the problem isn’t with his friends. No. They’ve sent him messages over the walkie since the clock hit midnight on June 29th. — The issue is with his mom’s boyfriend. His ‘stepdad.’" OR Steve just wants his stepdad to love him and Eddie makes it known how many other people actually love him

Our Kids - T, 7.4k, complete DotyTakeThisDown

tags: fluff, getting together, apple orchards

“I’m sorry, Steve, can you say that again?” Eddie says from the other end of the phone line. “I thought I heard you volunteered me to drive to an apple orchard.” Steve winces, glad that Eddie can’t see his face right now. “I did.” “Okay.” A long pause. “And what about me screams apple cider and flower picking to you?”

steve vs spiders - E, series, complete crybaby

tags: modern au, meet-cute, grindr, arachnophobia

“Steve?” The guy asks, and Steve can just nod. He holds out a hand, but drops it back to his side when Steve doesn’t move to shake it. He cocks his head, smile still in place. “I’m Eddie, your emergency spider specialist.”  Steve still doesn’t say anything. Just watches as the guy—Eddie—rocks back on his heels.  Eddie clears his throat. “So…where is the little guy?” That finally shocks the words out of him. “He’s not little!” — (Steve moves to a new city and on his first night, he spots a giant spider above his bed. He doesn’t know anyone nearby who can come deal with it for him, so he opens Tinder and swipes right on everyone, copy pasting the same message to every match. Eddie responds.)

In The Heat Of The Night - M, 2.4k, complete @beetlesandstarss

tags: omegaverse, alpah eddie, omega steve, modern au, chat fic, idiots to lovers, a healthy dose of "didn't know they were dating"

eddie: DONT GO IN THE BATHROOM WHEN YUO GET BACK FROM WORK steve: What? Why? eddie: PERSONAL ITEM LEFT ON COUNTER just remembered steve: What, you got like a pussy-impersonator-3000 in there? eddie: ……. steve: YOU DO? eddie: well. it is not. called. That steve: I’m living with a pervert eddie: you are living with an ALPHA. and i am living with a kink-shamer 

over loved - E, 2.8k, complete @hawkinsbnbg

tags: transmasc steve, soft dom eddie, daddy kink, watersports, unsafe sex

Steve asked Eddie to shave his cunt for him.

pity hand-hold - T, 1.7k, complete mseg_21

tags: pre-steddie, hand holding, fluff

Steve finds himself wondering what it would feel like to hold them- Eddie’s hands or just a guy’s hand. He wonders how different it would be from holding Nancy’s hand or Heather’s or Kelly’s. Steve’s fingers itch to reach out and grab Eddie’s- find out if he likes rough hands as much as softer ones, if he likes long fingers as much as smaller ones, if he likes short chipped nails as much as long perfectly manicured ones. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. It’s not even the first time he’s thought about it while staring at Eddie’s hands, but unlike those other times, Steve actually brings it up. “Have you ever held hands with a guy?” or Steve is curious about what it’s like to hold a guy’s hand so of course he asks Eddie for help

Baby love, our baby love - E, 5.7k, complete what_about_the_fish

tags: steddissy, sexual age play, little steve, age regression, daddy kink, mommy kink, polyamory

Eddie couldn’t help the way he felt watching his sweet baby girl play, it had always made him hard. Something about the way Steve played, with the kind of stress free bliss that he never saw on Steve's face when he was feeling big. Steve even smelt different like this, softer, sweeter, and the way he sounded, especially when Eddie touched him intimately was altogether unique.

I had been hungry, all the Years - E, 3/3, complete jamiethegardener

tags: steddissy, soulmate au, summer flings, getting together, steddie as soulmates

Steve is a sneaky little fucker. Smarter than he looks, because Chrissy called Eddie up and said that Steve told her they all needed to talk and that she should ask Eddie about it. “What do you think he wants?” she asked, and Eddie said, “He probably has a thing for you, Chris, just leave me out of it, I don’t need a broken nose,” and she said, “I don’t think he’s like that anymore, Eddie. Come with me? For moral support?” “Moral support?” Eddie said. “You know you’re talking to a Munson, right?” but here he is trailing behind Chrissy’s white Keds anyway. He should be grateful she hasn’t asked him to bark like a dog yet, he reflects. At least he still has some dignity.

the tattler - G, complete @hairmetal666

tags: school newspaper, fluff, getting together

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school. Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

My Kingdom For a Kiss Upon His Shoulder - G, 661, complete @steviewashere

tags: post-canon, fluff, non-sexual intimacy, established relationship

“Trade?” He asked, holding out a freshly baked cookie. It was a new hobby Steve had picked up and Eddie adored it. Not only did it put him in a cute, pastel blue, short apron; but it also made him produce baked goods from thin air all the time. He took up on baking as a means to put negative thoughts and energy at bay. It suited him. Made him especially domestic; especially sweet.

oh, baby baby - E, 3k, complete Chubbypeachhh

tags: morning sex, fluff and smut, pregnancy kink, mommy kink

“What were we having?” “A little girl,” Steve answers, the melancholy returning just a bit. It’s inexplicable, the feeling of missing a child he’ll never carry, but it’s there nonetheless. “I miss her,��� he admits to Eddie, quietly into the softness of his skin.

Slowly Learning that Life is OK - T, 3.1k, complete (ao3) @runraerun

tags: nancy pov, established steddie, secret relationship

Nancy anguishes over having to tell Steve that she doesn’t feel the same way about him, but the last thing she wants to do is lead the poor guy on. So Nancy Wheeler goes to break Steve Harrington’s heart for what feels like the dozenth time, but when she arrives she’s surprised to find one Eddie Munson already there. And it becomes obvious fairly quickly that Nancy doesn’t have to say a damn thing because as it turns out, Steve’s heart isn’t even hers to break anymore. Or, Nancy finds out Steve and Eddie are boneing when she accidentally stumbles across their porno-Polaroid stash.

in a new light - T, 2.6k, complete @steddieas-shegoes

tags: body swap, chronic pain, friends (idiots) to lovers

Steve looked around the room before his eyes settled on his own hands. Eddie’s rings were on his fingers. He looked down at his arms, jumping at the sight of Eddie’s tattoos. Eddie’s pale skin. He rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, ignoring a deep sense of dread taking over him. “What the fuck?” He asked out loud, only remembering that Wayne would be home at the last minute.

detours & second chances - T, 3.5k, complete (ao3) @steddieasitgoes

tags: post-canon, single dad steve, family vacations, reunions

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to— Or: When the Winnebago breaks down, Steve and his kids find themselves on an unexpected detour that leads him to a familiar face.

seven years - G, complete @hitlikehammers

tags: witsec eddie, established relationship, reunions

We can’t both go, Steve reasons, though the sound of it’s harsh, reluctant and filled with premature longing that’s maybe not premature, given that this thing they have grew so strong and certain so fucking fast—but Steve’s heart’s in his throat so hard that Eddie can hear it, and Eddie knew that would be the answer, because they’ve touched on the point and solved it for themselves: they’d leave Hawkins like everyone else, when the kids were grown, when they got out. When there was no one else to make sure got out safe. Steve always pulled up the rear, held the door open before it slammed shut, made them climb through the gates and watched their backs always: never left before everyone was evaced in front of him first. And Eddie wasn’t leaving Steve, so. Easy answer. Except: now.

One. Big. Step. - G, complete @medusapelagia

tags: touch-starved eddie, pre-steddie, fluff

The anticipation is what makes Eddie antsy.  When someone starts to walk toward him, his heart starts beating faster and louder, his ears buzz, his breathing gets too accelerated (air hunger, as his mom used to call it), and he begins to sweat, profusely, leaving a dark damp stain under the armpit of his t-shirts, which is the main reason he always wears black t-shirts. Or t-shirts with black sleeves.  When the person walking toward him is Steve the Hair Harrington, well, it's even worse. 

liquor talks - M, 875, complete @steddieas-shegoes

tags: drunken love confessions, mutual pining, first kiss

The back door opened and closed and Eddie slipped inside, the cool night air wafting off of him as he sat down in the chair behind Steve. Steve was hot. He should cool off. He sat down in Eddie’s lap and sighed with relief, wiping sweat from his forehead. Eddie’s hands were resting on the arms of the chair, his legs tense under Steve’s. “You feel nice,” Steve said, relaxing completely against him, curling into a ball in Eddie’s lap. “Good.”

gazing at the stars in your eyes - G, 2k, complete (ao3) @flowercrowngods

tags: late night love confessions, mutual pining, stargazing, yearning

Eddie fell in love with Steve at night. Over the course of many walks in the dark, strolls around Hawkins because they both just needed to move, get away for a while, chase the sensation of running away together. Eddie fell in love with the line of Steve’s jaw and the smile on his lips, the reflection of the moon in those dark eyes as Steve looked up and looked so calm. So serene. Almost at home, with the stars in his eyes. In which Steve watches the stars, Eddie watches Steve, and they both wish for the same thing.

jailhouse rock - G, complete @corrodedbisexual

tags: modern au, meet-cute, steve gets arrested

Steve shouldn’t even be here; he got arrested for shoplifting, but it was all a misunderstanding. He was actually trying to prevent a shoplifting when he saw a couple of kids stuffing chocolate bars into their jacket pockets. They bolted, and he chased after them; unfortunately, he was still holding a bottle of (rather expensive) wine in hand as he did that, so he ended up the perceived cause of the blaring store alarm while the two shitheads escaped with zero consequences. The store’s got security cameras. So it will probably be fine, right? It will all be resolved soon enough. Steve just has to wait. What makes him more nervous is the guy he’s sharing the cell with.

from the ashes - T, complete @hitlikehammers

tags: final battle, temporary character death

If all that's left of Steve in the final battle is ashes... are they really just ashes?

All You Have Is Your Fire - E, 5k, complete @wormdebut

tags: modern au, barista steve, tattoo artist eddie, light angst with a happy ending

Eddie fumbled his way into Rise and Grind, the poor coffee shop had the disservice of being neighbors with Convicted Ink. He truly wasn't sure how to even order this shit, but if getting his shitty boss and his little minions caffeine was going to get him into a fucking chair to actually tattoo, fine. It was fine. ---- Or, Eddie is an apprentice at a terrible tattoo shop and the only thing that keeps him sane, is the pretty barista at the coffee shop next door.

what weather they shall have is not ours to rule - M, 4/4, complete misprinting

tags: bdsm au, slow burn, non-sexual kink, canon compliant, body horror

rec notes: yall please PLEASE read this fic (and leave a comment.) the world building fucks SO HARD (no pun intended) and the entire premise is so interesting and cool. i don't think i've ever read a bdsm au before and i don't think i'll be able to after this bc my expectations are so high now klsfjgldkfjgf

Steve doesn't consciously keep a list of the things he hates just under his tongue, but it’s there. He hates orange juice because of his dad. He hates the Gates because they won't close. He hates not knowing what he'll do with himself when Robin goes away to college at the end of the summer, leaving him on his own, a loose end, nothing. He hates being single and he hates the Upside Down and he hates the postcards his parents send and he hates how the kids are old enough to get tested and he hates driving up the road to his house and— And he hates the itch he gets in his brain, once every three or four weeks. The one that says, ‘You belong on your knees.’ It can’t be ignored. He only knows one way to make it stop.

Trespassing - G, complete @pearynice

tags: modern au, fluff, eddie takes care of steve, steddie love month

Love is being known

Phantom Thief - T, series, WIP @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

tags: magic au, thief eddie, guard steve, enemies to lovers

In the end, it’s just the two of them again.  Steve jumps over another groaning pile of half-conscious guards and bursts out onto the roof, cold night air slapping him in the face and making the cape of his uniform whip.  “Munson!” he barks. 

this campfire won't last forever - G, 10k, complete @hexiewrites

tags: no upside down au, summer camp, 5+1, fluff, getting together

Steve, Program Director of Camp Know Where, was expecting it to be a summer like any other. A summer filled with activities, swimming and canoe trips and quiet evening nights around the campfire. He was expecting it to be a summer of fun and friends and, frankly, the usual. What he wasn't expecting was for the last-minute music head replacement to come crashing into his life, and change everything. Or: Five summer nights full of sparkling possibility, and the one night when it explodes into something real.

The Last In Line - M, 13/13, complete @xiaq

tags: time travel, fix-it, defeating vecna in 1983, bamf steve, the party as a family

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, but can I just–” Eddie lets him approach, this time. Lets him reach out to touch, to curl his fingers in the hem of Eddie’s shirt. “Sorry, I know I probably sound crazy, I just––” he pulls it up, stares at Eddie’s side, and then lets out a hysterical little noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob. “You’re ok,” Steve says. His fingers are hot on Eddie’s skin, pressed light and shockingly reverent to the space between his hip and rib cage. “You’re ok,” he repeats. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “Hey,” Eddie says. It comes out more breathless than he’d prefer but Steve fucking Harrington has him backed against a wall in a bathroom with his hands up Eddie’s shirt so he thinks a little lack of air is warranted. “Are you ok?” The fingers on his abdomen flex. "No,” Steve says. His eyes are wide and fathomless and the look on his face is terrible. “No, I’m not even remotely ok.”

We're Just (Boy) Friends - E, 5.3k, complete Mischiefediting

tags: vampire eddie munson, idiot4idiot, mutual pining, god they're so stupid in this (affectionate)

Steve nods, wiping the excess off the nail polish wand again and dragging it over Eddie's index nail "How do you kiss with them?" He asks causally, Eddie's brows raise "How do I what?" He blinks rapidly, “Kiss with them." Steve restates, eyes darting to look at Eddie for a fraction of a second "Like do you accidentally bite or.." Or.. The group is back from the upside down with an undead Eddie who needs a place to hide, obviously Steve’s is the only option. The two become wrapped up in many questionable situations while clearly pining for each other but also, equally not that bright.

You Make Me Live Now, Honey - E, 15k, complete GrasshopperKatie

tags: post canon, road trip, background ronance

Eddie loves the little idiots, but he’s thankful that it’s just Robin, Steve and himself on this trip. Steve is stressed enough about a cross country road trip without adding that he would have to take care of seven children on top of that. Nancy has provided them the perfect opportunity for an escape. She’s been attending classes at Emerson for two months now and invited them out to spend Halloween weekend at her place. They all jumped on the idea of getting out of Hawkins for a few days.

bring me a dream - T, 3.4k, complete sailors_ink

tags: post canon, mind control, open ending

The song is slow, coiling behind his ear and gently drifting down his shoulders, making him shiver. He thinks he should know the music, humming along to it as the guitar starts to get louder. It feels nice, a comforting chill down his back that eases the tension of his wounds. His wounds. Robin. Robin, his bat bites still hurt, why does it hurt so much, what's - Oh, he thinks as the music plays even louder in his ear, in his mind, that's not the radio.

butter, sugar, and northern mockingbirds - E, 3/3, complete @thefreakandthehair | througheden

tags: post-canon, baker steve, mutual pining, getting together

“Holy shit, Steve, this cookie has no right to be this good,” Eddie praises, cookie crumbs stuck to the corner of his lips. “What did you put in this? Drugs? Is it drugs? I feel like it could be drugs, they’re that good.” It’s not the first time he’s felt these proverbial butterfly wings flapping against the inside of his ribs. Every time they’re alone together, every time their shoulders graze or eyes meet, every time Steve sees Eddie smile with that stupid dimple that not even the slashing scar across his cheek can hide, the little thing with wings that’s taken up residence close enough to his heart to set it alight goes insane. He should know how to handle the feeling by now, but he doesn’t. Or, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Eddie Munson open Steve's secret dream bakery after surviving the Vecnapocalypse. Eddie can't seem to stop getting flour in his hair, Steve can't stop touching him, and Robin might lose her mind.

it's enough (to make a girl blush) - E, 1/?, WIP (ao3) @yearningagain | hellfireprez

tags: modern au, omegaverse, baker steve, rockstar eddie, true mates, background buckingham

Then, all of a sudden, everything felt wrong. It was as if he was floating away from his body, his mind a balloon escaping a child's loose clutch. He couldn't smell the alpha, just his own scent turning sour and rotten. The cool sensation of the man's rings where they pressed into bare skin suddenly spread all over, no longer comforting, but as if ice water had engulfed him. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something like a spark, settling into the omega and igniting coals to keep him warm and happy. And Steve opened his eyes. OR Steve and Eddie are soulmates and the universe sends them wet dreams about it.

[watarfallar]

I'm on a roll with these!

Impulse: I wouldn’t wish that upon my worse enemy! Impulse: Unless of course. . We’re talking about my enemy, Gem. Fuck you Gem, you know what you did!

Joel: I just found out from Grian today that when Pearl died and the service did the 21-gun salute at their funeral, Gem said, “They should aim at the coffin to be sure.”

Jimmy: If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it. Scar: If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.

Gem: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Etho: Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Gem: THE WHO? Etho: Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

Jimmy: Cause your pretty and your smart, and your ignoring me so your obviously my type. Tango, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying? Jimmy: Perfect.

Tango: Self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath or putting on a lot of make up if you like that, or taking a nice warm nap and stuff like that basically. Ren: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes. Gem: Self care is stealing someones birthday cake just to eat the frosting. Ren: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Scar: You know what bothers me? Bats. Why can bats fly? Martyn: Not again! Scar: No. Seriously, who gave them the right? They're mammals! Mammals walk on land, no exceptions. Pearl: Just wait until you hear about whales. Scar: What now?

Martyn, texting Jimmy: Please don't text me for the next hour, I'm going to be on the treadmill. Jimmy: I wasn't planning on texting you. Martyn: What did I just say?

Cleo: When will Ted himself...finally show up to the talk? Impulse: The final boss. Scott: You guys know TEDtalks stands for technology, entertainment, and design talks, right? Cleo: I will not let Ted hide behind these lies any longer

Tango: According to the footage here, you shook the vending machine and when the shake alarm went off, you punched the glass and broke it. Gem: …I was hungry.

Pearl: BigB, get that hidious thing out of the living room, would you? BigB: Tango, Pearl wants you to get out of the house.

Scar: I wanna be a knight! Scott, a knight: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I’M DEAD INSIDE! Scar: Man, I want some of that in my life!

Lizzie: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Lizzie lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

Bdubs, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Skizz: Dearly Beloved, we are here today to remember Mumbo, taken from us in the prime of life; when they were crushed by a runaway semi, driven by the Incredible Hulk. Mumbo: Aww, you knew my favorite cause of death.

Impulse: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

Bdubs: Grian is off at an appointment, so while they’re gone, I’m going to cut the sleeves off all of my shirts. Gem: Why? Bdubs: They’re like 90% of my impulse control.

Skizz: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Joel: ...This is one of those moments where it doesn't really matter what I have to say, isn't it?

Jimmy: What’s the announcement, Lizzie? Lizzie: It’s a lecture. Skizz’s gonna tell us everything they know about sex. Etho: It should be an enjoyable 60 seconds.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

LMK!Wukong: First Meeting.

Pair: Wukong x Human F!Reader.

Authors Notes: As requested. :3 Also, liked how this turned out so the following shots will be based off it.

The spiders in this shot aren't the same as Spider Queen's henchmen. This shot takes place in the modern era, long before the Macaque episode.

Enjoy!

Your task was simple; go to town, get the food, go straight back home. Sweet as honey and easy as blinking, so why did the obstacles in your way have to be so… life-threatening? It was supposed to be an easy trip, so why did you end up having to run from a bunch of spider demons?! You'd just lost the group that chased you and you were so out of breath that your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest.

Inside your house, you couldn't see the disaster since you lived so far away from the village. Now, you had to hide behind a building that smelled like alcohol, secure behind two large barrels you assumed also had alcohol in them. You tried so hard to get your heart rate down, but you were pretty sure you were having a panic attack. 

Your body froze and then tensed before you covered your mouth to stop the sob when a shadow walked past you. You relaxed a bit when the demon cluelessly walked right past you, probably too tall to even notice your smaller form.

“What do we have here~?” a voice from above made you tense so much you pulled a neck muscle. You craned your head back to see one of the spider demons with spider legs above on the side of the building. “C'mere!” 

“AH!” You yelled out and as you were about to bolt, the demon spider was kicked through a few trees about 20 feet away before it could pounce on you. You looked to see who your saviour was and, let's just say it wasn't who or what you'd expect.

“Fear not, mortal! I am here!” the monkey grinned and took an overly confident champion pose. You looked at the monkey demon like he was crazy. 

“Thanks?” you asked more than said. Were you supposed to know who he was?

“Seriously?” he looked at you as his shoulders slumped. “You don't know who I am?”

“Should I?” you shrugged before you noticed a group of spider demons as they rushed to the ‘Monkey King’ as they had called him. You clung onto him out of pure instinct. 

“Whoa, easy there, girly,” he chuckled before he noticed why you reacted as you did. He detached you from him and set you aside before he attacked the approaching arachnid demons. You were honestly amazed by what you saw the overly dressed monkey do. 

Monkey King? You'd never heard of such a person, but maybe it was high time you got up to date on some things. You didn't have wifi where you lived and since your place was so secluded, you never heard anything close to gossip. You continued to watch in amazement as he quickly had those spider freaks running with their tails between their legs.

“You okay there, kid?” you were snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at the monkey who didn't even seem to break a sweat. 

“Um… yeah,” you nodded before your previous actions made your cheeks flush. “O-oh, I’m sorry about… ya know.”

“Hm? Oh, you mean you clinging to me for dear life?” he asked with a grin, a clear sign he was messing with you, but his words made you too embarrassed to notice. “Eh, don't worry about it, I'm just messing with you, kid,” he laughed a bit.

“Yeah… I'm not a child,” you folded your arms. 

“With your strength? I hope not,” he teased, which made you clear your throat.

“A-anyway, thank you for… ya know, saving me and taking care of those spiders,”

“No problem,” he grinned, his fists on his hips as he slightly looked down at you. “So, what's your name, cutie?”

Cutie? You weren't sure how red your face was at that point, but it felt hot from the blush. 

“Oh, it's (Y/n),”

“Well, it's nice to meet you, (Y/n). I am Sun Wukong, the Great Sage equal to Heaven! Otherwise known as the Monkey King,” he introduced himself with such a bright smile you had to squint a bit.  

“Uh huh…”

“You seriously never heard of me?”

“Sorry,” you looked at him apologetically. He sighed in defeat but quickly shook it off. 

“I should probably go,” he said and glanced off to the side. 

“R-right,” you nodded when you remembered you still had some things you needed to get before you could head home.

“Do you live around here?”

“Close, but not here,” you said sheepishly as you rubbed the back of your head.

“Lone wolf, huh?” he let out an amused breath before he glanced around with a slight frown.

“Something wrong?”

“Do you live in the forest area?” He looked at you kind of seriously. 

“Yeah, why?” you answered before you thought the worst. “Are there more of those spider things around?”

“It’s okay!” Wukong said as he tried to settle your nerves. “It's not that, those guys are long gone now. I just think that it’s not smart to go off on your own,”

“I've done it every day,” you pointed out with folded arms, but the thought of running into those demons didn't sit well with you. “But if you want to walk me home I won't stop you,” you said as you tried your hardest to seem confident, which made Wukong laugh.

“I like you, (Y/n). you're funny,” he snickered before he whistled and summoned a cloud; he hopped onto the cloud and then turned to you. “May I?” he asked as he offered his hand to help you. 

Against your will, not only did your heart skip a beat, but you also took his hand. The shopping was long forgotten when you saw the cloud, unexpectedly, it was so soft and fluffy! You let out a yelp and clung to Wukong as he’d taken off without any type of warning whatsoever.

“Warn me next time!” you yelled at him over the wind that blew past your ears.

“Oh ho, next time, huh?” he glanced at you when you two were high enough to see the layout of the land.

“You know what I mean,” you hadn't realized your blush had subsided till that second when the blood rushed back to your cheeks. 

“That your place?” he asked. You looked around his body to see what he was referring to and when you saw it… you couldn't help but notice exactly how far away the village was.

“Yeah, it is,” you responded. 

“Wow, how do you get Wi-Fi or anything else from way over there?” Wukong mused before he took off again, luckily you'd prepared yourself that time.

“I don't,” you rubbed the back of your head then let out an ‘oof’ when your body slammed into his as he suddenly stopped.

“You don't have Wi-Fi or cable or any type of service?!” he asked as if you offended both his ancestors and insulted his bloodline.

“Yeah?” you raised a brow.

“Do you have electricity or are you going to tell me you live in the light of the sun and candlelight,”

“Why do you sound so offended?” you mused a bit. He looked like a feisty little monkey and you had to admit it was really cute. “I have electricity… and ac,”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he said and placed his hand on his heart, but still looked at you like you were a new breed of creature. 

“What?” you questioned the monkey king.

“What do you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you have no wifi or cable. Do you even have a TV or video games?”

“No?” you looked at him as he reacted like you stabbed him in the heart.

“Damn… I need to teach you about the best things you mortals have ever made!”

“Uh, no thanks,” you said nervously. “I'd just like to go home, please,”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed in exasperation as he moved towards your humble abode. “If you don't have a TV or any of that stuff, what do you do?”

“Well, I read,”  you looked at him in amusement. “You do know what reading is, don't you.”

You didn't notice this, but that statement felt like an attack to him… ya know, since he can't read.

“Of course I know what reading is, I read all the time!” he said a bit too defensively. 

“Can't read, huh, tough guy?” you saw through his bullshit, he slouched.

“Not a word,” he confessed and helped you off his cloud before he hopped off himself. 

“That's okay,” you smiled at him. “Maybe to repay you for saving me, I can give you a few lessons.”

“Huh?” he looked at you in slight shock.

“It's the least I can do,” you smiled at him before you walked to your front door. You didn't see it because your back was to him, but it was his turn to blush. 

Sure, he'd been treated well by few humans in his lifetime, but you… you had this way about you that made the immortal’s stone heart beat.

“Sure, if I have time,” he tried to brush it off like it wasn't a big deal. 

“Well, you know where to find me,” you smiled at him as you unlocked your door. “Can I offer you a drink or something before you go, oh Great Sage?” your teasing made him grin.

“Got any peach chips?”

[mischievous-piltovan]

Of Atlas and Sisyphus (NSFW)

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 2: Overthinking and Overflowing

Pairing: MiguelO'Hara x afab!Reader

Themes: Romance, Fluff, NSFW, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn.

Word Count: 9.4k words

Synopsis: Reader wakes up at the Spider HQ Med Bay and needs further care. Miguel spends his day watching the recording of their last mission. None of them are ready to face each other. But circumstances and a perky AI assistant say otherwise.

Trigger Warnings/TWs: blood, wound, piercing damage, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, miscommunication, emotionally constipated idiots, a bit of power imbalance because boss x underling (but ever so slightly), hand job, oral sex (female and male receiving), very soft femdom.

A/N: sorry for the wait. Life happened but I managed to push this one out! I'm thinking of doing a third part to really solidify the ending of this things. Comments and rebblogs keep me motivated! Have a nice read :)

The very first thing that hit you when you next opened your eyes was a feeling of unfamiliarity. The white ceiling lights buzzed overhead, overwhelming your sight; the mattress and pillow you laid on felt harder than you were used to, there was a distinct antiseptic smell in the air and somewhere in the vicinity a machine beeped. You tried getting up, but your muscles failed you, bringing you right back down. The little ruckus you caused made someone gasp nearby.

"Careful now," a masked nurse hastily came over your bed "We can't have you accidentally unhooking yourself from the IV-drip."

In your daze, it took a few seconds to register that the nurse was a Spider-Woman, a few more seconds to realize it meant you were at HQ's Med Bay and even more for it to click that that's NOT where you were supposed to be. You sat upright suddenly as dread coursed through your body, successfully yanking the needle out of your arm "The Goblin! I gotta- " 

With a sigh, the nurse gently pushed you back into the bed with a hush. "It's all right, dear. It's been dealt with," she proceeded to reset the IV needle in your arm "Boss brought both you and the Anomaly back to HQ. Your Universe is safe, you need to rest now."

"Miguel… ?" You croaked, the memories of the missions slowly coming back to you "Is he ok?"

"Yes, he was dismissed not too long ago," she reassured you "He wasn't injected with as much venom as you did, and he's also much bigger than you - it almost didn't affect him."

"Venom…?"

"Oh, right. You wouldn't know," she chirped "The projectile you took was venomous, it did a number to your body and halted your healing. But don't worry, we're working to fix that.You should be right as rain in a day or two!"

"Right…"

"Well, I need to attend to other matters now," she said in a gentle tone "There's a little button on the wall over there, press it if you need anything and I'll come running, ok? Now, get some rest."

You watched the nurse hop out of your room before sinking into the pillow with a heavy exhale. You didn't finish the mission; you couldn't carry your own weight to catch an Anomaly in your own dimension. Miguel had to do it. He caught the Anomaly by himself and had to carry your unconscious body back to HQ. Your only contribution was being dead weight.

To make matters worse, according to the nurse, you'd be stuck in the Med Bay for at least another day. This meant that all the unfinished work you left at your workstation would inevitably get delayed. Consequently, all the new tasks that you'd surely be assigned to will stack up and, thereafter, also get delayed. You shielded your eyes with your forearm as you groaned, the amount of extra hours you'd have to put in to compensate already sent a shiver down your spine; an all-nighter was definitely due. You just hoped no unforeseen crisis strike in the meantime - adding Miguel juggling a million tasks at once to quench a metaphorical fire by himself to the fiasco that your mission with him was just added more weight to your already heavy consciousness (and another jab to your very much hurt pride). You also didn't want to have him going through stress by himself  when you could very well be there to share the load - that's precisely what you've been trying to accomplish all this time after all. As capable as he was, he was still just one person - he needed you.

Wait…

He needed you.

"Because I need you."

He… He said that, didn't he? You were not entirely sure, you were in a rather delirious state right before passing out. It could have very well been a fabrication of a blood-deprived (and poisoned, as you just learned) mind that has been yearning for him for far too long. But somehow, it felt real… You've dreamed about Miguel before and it didn't matter which scenario your subconscious made up, waking up always left you with a bittersweet feeling afterwards, like you've been yanked away from your own Garden of Eden. But this particular memory had an intensity behind it, an unrelenting force. Like that first sip of cold water on a very hot summer day.

You swatted that notion away before escalating your swooning any further over a single crumb of hope. 'Because I need you' could mean anything, it didn’t necessarily have to do with romance or lust. If you recalled correctly, you were in the middle of quitting your job, he could very well have meant he needed you working in the lab with him. As in 'You became a valuable asset to the Society, replacing you would be too troublesome. I need you'.

Heh… Despite not being ideally what you wanted it to mean, the thought still amused you. Miguel finally admitted he saw worth in your contributions to the Society, after all these months of getting nothing but criticism and scoldings. And you could hear in his voice how he struggled to let the words out, how strained and a bit desperate he sounded. Like he was running out of choices and just had to use the truth for once.

It really was amusing how much leverage he gave you over him. 

Miguel didn't want you to know he needed you and you couldn't wait to rub it in his face.

—--

Miguel didn't want you to know he needed you and he dreaded to see your reaction now that you did.

It had been a full day since he was dismissed from the Med Bay and he couldn't concentrate on anything. And it's not like he wasn't trying; he kept forcing himself to focus - compartmentalizing tasks in more palatable chunks, timing his strides and peppering them with short breaks, and even going as far as vocalizing out loud what he was trying to accomplish step by step - but no matter what he did, his thoughts kept circling back to you and everything that went down in your dimension.

After the ninth time failing to keep a steady flow of work going, Miguel finally gave-up. Among the catalog of yesterday's missions log files, he put up the VOD of the mission at your dimension and silently watched it. He paused the moment before you were hit with the Goblin's javelin and felt his stomach churn; he watched himself curled up on screen, trying to fix his suit, pathetically oblivious to the impending attack coming from behind him. The next second you were lunging at him, getting the Goblin's attention and successfully protecting him at the cost of your wound.

 How… Pathetic.

His intention to accompany you on your next few missions was to protect you - he knew you bore a grave injury from a past job, he wanted to aid you until you were fully healed. To watch him be a hindrance that caused you further harm made him feel disgusting; and knowing it was because he didn't have Spider-Sense the same way most (bright and cheerful) Spider-People had just added more insult to the injury. 

But the fight with the Goblin wasn't the reason he wanted to watch the Video Log in the first place. He kept watching it until he got to the part he wished to revisit - the moment the argument broke out. Unsurprisingly, he was the one who triggered the conflict.

"Why the shock were you exerting yourself when you should have been resting?"

Miguel groaned at his tone. He didn't have to be an asshole when all he wanted was for you to be more careful with your well-being. But at this point, being a jerk towards you became second nature - a defense mechanism born from the need of keeping you at arm's length; treating you the complete opposite of how he felt about you to ensure you were kept safe from him. If you ended up hating him all the better. But actions have consequences, and tipping you off yet again was just that. He couldn't blame you for snapping, he had been pushing you for a while now - the band was bound to break. 

What he didn't foresee was that said reaction encapsulated your sudden decision to quit Spider Society altogether AND your stubborn persistence in flinging yourself back into the mission while gravely injured. His mind went into overdrive trying to salvage the situation while keeping the professional facade. He watched the moment he grabbed your wrist, the same desperation he felt then creeping up all over again. The havoc inside him caused the beast to get set loose and he recalled almost doing something stupid as he gazed into your eyes, like kissing you. It was said thought that jolted him out of his stupor, forcefully yanking the beast's leash back and making him utter the most ridiculous statement in a desperate attempt to bring the conversation back to a professional ground (it didn't).

"You're going to jeopardize this mission in your current condition."

He had to pause the video to take a breath, the surge of shame too much to bear. There were a million other ways to address your relentlessness that would both convey the message and still sound professional, but his thick skull decided to go with the ballistic option. But then again, it was the easier route, par for the course; being as mean as possible to make sure his true intentions and feelings were kept secret. He unpaused the video, and your next words were his undoing.

"I'm DONE being your silly little plaything."

What the shock could you possibly have meant with that? Yes, he had been an asshole to you for the last few months (even if not intentional), but he wasn't toying with you. To make someone a plaything means bestowing them a lesser status; is to perceive them as a mere toy, an unfeeling object undeserving of respect. And that was the last thing Miguel connected you with; to him you were a goddess, worthy of worship and absolutely unattainable. You were his muse and his tormentor, his salvation and his undoing. Far too important to him even consider playing with. The revelation that this is how you felt broke him; destroyed him to the point that made him falter and his next words practically spilled from him.

"Because I need you."

There they were. The words that escaped his lips and which possible repercussions he dreaded. The little confession that's been keeping him from concentrating in anything else. In his desperation to remedy the notion you held, he waned and the beast broke free; it spoke in his stead and revealed more than Miguel was ready to admit. In a (terrible) way, he was lucky you passed out soon after; who knows what else would come into the light had the conversation gone any further.

Yet, even though the words he uttered didn't actually convey much, the implications behind them had the potential to roar. It shouldn't take a genius to logic their way to the truth and you were highly intelligent. And he dreaded how you'd react to it, how disgusted you'd feel upon realizing the beast fell for you. Only he was no prince under a spell, he was just that - a monster.

"Miguel? Heeey, Miguel! Are you listening?"

It took Lyla to pop up in front of his eyes, completely blocking the screen he was looking at, for Miguel to finally notice her. From her frantic gesturing alone, he could tell she had been trying to get his attention for a while. 

"Ah, perdón, Lyla. I am now."

"Good grief, Miguel. You are uncharacteristically slow today," she quipped, feigning annoyance. "Did the venom from that Goblin affect your cognition?"

"I–What? No," it took a minute for Miguel to understand Lyla had insulted him "Callaté."

The AI ignored Miguel, opting to scan whatever he was working on. She assumed she'd have more luck understanding her master's plight through any other way than getting him to talk. Upon realizing the video file he was watching, she paused with an oh.

"I'm gonna throw some statements at you, and you're gonna tell me if they are true or not," she said more calmly. Before he could muster anything, she continued "You are worried about what you said during yesterday's mission.'

Miguel took a moment before responding "True."

"You don't want her to know about your feelings."

"...true."

She paused, mulling over her next statement before continuing "You think you're not reciprocated."

Miguel frowned "Fal– No, that's not even– She couldn't possibly–"

The mere thought of you reciprocating his feelings was ludicrous. Of all people, why would you fall for him - a barely human, brutish, hard-headed monstrosity. In the Society alone he could think of a good number of Spiders that you were more likely to fall for; the cheerful, laid-back types who could touch you without fear of accidentally sinking their talons into you. Lyla was delusional to even suggest that.

"Drop it, Lyla."

The AI took a minute to study Miguel, her expression unreadable. The next second, her eyes shifted, unfocused, and a glimpse of a mischievous grin spread across her face before turning to her master again.

"Aye aye, captain, consider it dropped," she said cheerfully. "On other news, you have that immersion treatment scheduled now. You better head to the Med Bay."

"Cancel it," he dismissed, the last thing he needed was to waste more time. But Lyla was having none of it.

"Not happening," she snapped her fingers and suddenly all screens from Miguel's workstation blinked off.

"Que carajo," Miguel spat, frantically trying to undo his assistant's input "Lyla! Restore the power this instant!" 

"No can do, Miguel," she said, floating with her legs crossed in the air, while pretending to file her nails. "Even if it was just a little, you still got poisoned with that Goblin's venom. Doctor's orders."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, as he groaned. Finally, he dropped his shoulders with a huge exhale as he yielded "Fine…"

"Oh, and do me a favor while you're there, will you?" She added "I've found a strange entry in my command inputs, could you take a look at it?"

—

Miguel spent the whole walk to the Med Bay wondering how his life got to the point his AI assistant had more power over his life decisions than he did.

Once arriving, he was led to a private locker room and instructed to fully strip and enter the immersion pool area through the door on the other side of the room. 

"The session should take an hour, give or take," the nurse informed him, "There's a clock in there, so don't worry about bringing any devices with you."

Once the nurse left him, he fully deactivated his suit, the digital material retracting from his head down, and wrapped a towel around his hips. Even if he was supposed to be by himself through the whole process - thus dispensing the need to protect his modesty -, it would be unlike him to not take precaution.

The very first thing that hit him when he opened the door to the pool area was the intense herbal smell that assaulted his sensitive nose. The second thing was how foggy the place was, provided by the temperature of the water. The third thing was a yelp.

"AH! What the– Wait… Miguel?"

You stood immersed in the water, at the far end of the pool. Miguel was stunned, trying to process the situation he walked into, his head working in overdrive: Why were you here? Did he go through the wrong door? No, there was only one door. How did he miss your scent? Oh, the fumes from the concoction must have overpowered it. Should you be here? Should he be here? Once his eyes fell to how your arms hugged your chest in an attempt to maintain some sort of propriety, he promptly turned on his heels as an intense heat flared up on his face.

"Shit! I'm sorry!" He spat. "I don't know what– I should– I'm gonna go."

He frantically tried opening the door back to the locker room, pressing the buttons on the door pad with more force than he should, but it was futile. As he punched the pad in frustration, Lyla popped up beside him.

"You're not leaving until you finish your treatment session," she sang.

"Lyla! Open this door this instant!" Miguel barked. Lyla just clicked her tongue.

"Just get in the water, the pool is big enough for the both of you," she replied "Besides, the mixture of medicines in the water make it very murky, you can barely make out what's under it."

"LYLA! NOW!"

"It's OK, Miguel," you said, your voice instantly starting to subdued Miguel's anger "You need this treatment too, you should get in."

Miguel brushed his hair back with his hand, his fingers running through his thick locks as he tried calming down to assess his situation. You were behind him completely vulnerable in an extreme state of undress, protected only by a thin veil of water. He shuddered at the thought, the image in his head alone sending all the blood in his body directly south. The beast inside of him wanted nothing more than to seize the opportunity to claim you here, shrouded by the vapors and the thick herbal smell. Getting in that water was risky, it would take a lot of him to keep control. 

But what other option did he have? Lyla was adamant in making him go through the treatment, blocking the door control altogether. He had the power to just force his way out, tearing a hole in the metal with his talons, but he'd end up not only ruining your session but also exposing you (and the protectiveness in him was vehemently against it). He just had to endure it.

"Fine," he breathed out in defeat. He turned around, eyes down to avoid looking at you. He approached the pool's edge as he tugged on the towel around his hips "I'm gonna lose the towel, you… might want to look away."

You did not want to look away in the slightest, but you closed your eyes nonetheless out of respect. Once you heard the tell-tale splash followed by the ripples of water hitting you, you opened them again. 

Neither you or Miguel spoke, the silence being broken only by the gentle humming of the water heater. The tension in the air was almost as palpable as the herbal steam flooding the room. Miguel kept himself on the opposite corner of the pool, as far from you as possible. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and sank as far as he could while resting the back of his head on the edge. His heart was racing, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment overwhelming his senses. He was fighting hard to relax, to be present in the moment and enjoy the break from the ever-present onslaught of responsibilities his life bestowed upon him, but your presence was proving too strong. 

The beast inside of him stirred, flooding his mind with obscenities; you bent over at your hip on your belly at the edge of the pool, your ass on full display for him as he plunged his cock between your glistening folds; you sat at the edge with your feet in the water as he savored your nectar with his head between your thighs; him sitting on the shallow part of the pool with you on top of him, bouncing on his cock as he gripped your ass, watching your tits gorgeously jump from the movement. Miguel groaned, fighting to keep the beast on a tight leash as he tried to push the vulgarities away; fuck fuck fuck… What wouldn't he give for a chance to jerk these thoughts out of him, to release the tension just a bit to make this ordeal a bit more bearable. The occasional sigh and shudder you'd let out from the other side of the pool just added to his fantasies, making the effort of keeping his very much hardening cock down that much vexing. At least Lyla was right about the murkiness of the water - the pearlescent shade whatever chemicals granted the liquid made it impossible to distinguish anything immersed in it.

Wait, that's right - Lyla! She did ask him to take a look at a weird entry on her command input history, didn't she. This was perfect, some busy work should keep his mind occupied, if he was lucky it would take the whole treatment session to finish dealing with it. He promptly called Lyla and before long, he was scrolling through her command input history.

To say you were faring any better at the other side of the pool would be a lie. Ever since Miguel walked through that door you became acutely aware of how bare you were - your skin prickled as if more sensitive than before. On top of that, you were fighting for your life not to ogle at the man - the dampness of the ambient clung to him making his bronze skin glisten and tousled his hair, causing some thick locks to fall on his face. You started to question your decision to offer him to partake in the session with you the moment the words left your mouth; you supposed it derived from both the guilt you felt from him getting wounded during the mission and the opportunity your lizard brain saw of being close to a very naked Miguel. Nevertheless, the result was an awkward situation filled to the brim with tension. 

Suddenly, you sensed Miguel tense up for a second, meeting his eyes the moment you looked over to see what had spooked him. The workaholic that he was, he had a screen open in front of him and seemed to have seen something that surprised him. You lifted a questioning eyebrow at him, but he didn't respond; instead he returned to the document he had opened as if double-checking something before turning the screen off. He then set his eyes to the water in front of him, but his mind was distant - you could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

The silence stretched on and minutes started feeling like hours. You racked your brain trying to find a topic of discussion, something to fill the silence and loosen the tension if only for a bit. Maybe even something silly, just to share a little amicable laugh, or some kind of teasing, to partake in a familiar friendly jabbing session. And then it hit you, the one thing you were dying to bring up to him - the little confession he let out during the mission. His (work) need of you (in the Spider Society).

"Soooo," you broke the silence in a sing-song voice "Miguel O'Hara finally caved in, huh."

Miguel snapped out of whatever was consuming his mind, clearly taken aback by the tone of your voice "¿Q- que?"

"Because I need you," you mimicked, doing a very bad impression of his voice "Took you long enough to admit it."

Miguel didn't respond right away. You watched him stir, visibly distraught, as he searched your face for something. "... you knew?"

There was a tinge of melancholy behind his question, something even vulnerable. But you kept your smirk, backing down now would just compromise your attempt at alleviating the tension. "I mean, I had a feeling."

Miguel dropped his shoulders in a strong exhale as he scrunched his eyes shut. When he opened them again, his eyebrows furrowed up slightly as he looked at you in desolation "I'm sorry."

Of all things to hear back from him, an apology was not on the list. Something was starting to feel off, but you decided to push it a little more "You should be, it was high time you recognized the work I put in here."

It was Miguel's turn to look confused "... the work?"

"Oh, don't act dumb, O'Hara," you retorted, slightly annoyed. He was not gonna dissuade you from finally getting the praise you rightfully deserved from him. "You couldn't let me quit the Society, you literally said you needed me here. I might have passed out soon after, but I did hear those words coming out of you."

"But that wasn't–," Miguel started frantically, but halted abruptly, seemingly collecting his thoughts. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before continuing. "You are an exceptional member of the Society. Your work at the lab and in the field are crucial and I can admit without problem that I need you at the Society. We all do."

He paused again, contemplating his next words. After a brief second, he resumed his speech. "What I said back then had nothing to do with work."

You frowned in confusion for a moment, but then the other meaning to those words you had first imagined crept up in the forefront of your mind. He couldn't be talking about affection, could he? A yearning for you that matched yours for him? Your chest fluttered in an erratic cadence, but you promptly stomped the elation down. You had to make sure - to hear him say it - before allowing yourself the bliss.

"What did you mean then?" You spoke softly, carefully. Like your tone alone could corner Miguel and cause him to withdraw, putting his walls back up and leaving you with half truths and lies.

But he didn't give you the clarification you desperately craved right away. Instead he shifted, standing a bit taller while still leaning with his back to the pool's edge, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. 

"I'll let you know," he spoke, fiercely gazing into your eyes from under his brow; his voice husky and stern. "But first I need you to explain why you asked Lyla to find a Miguel O'Hara variant in your dimension."

Your heart sank as dread rapidly coursed through your veins. You desperately tried to find a suitable answer, one that could give him a good explanation while omitting the truth from him. But the harder you racked your brain, the clearer it became that there was no way out from the corner Miguel drove you into. 

Dread started giving away to anger. How dare he tries to dodge your question by conditioning its answer to an answer from you, one that puts you on the spot. Leave it to control-freak Miguel O'Hara to use sleazy methods to keep himself on top.

"That doesn't concern you," you said between greeted teeth. "Now, answer my question."

Miguel was unphased. "Oh, you think someone looking for a variant of myself using my tech doesn't concern me?"

"It doesn't, that was a matter between me and Lyla about a potential third person," you spat, voice rising a bit. "My question is about clarification on a conversation WE shared. THAT concerns you."

"You can't possibly-"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, O'HARA," you snapped, standing up abruptly, splashing water all around you "STOP DEFLECTING MY QUESTION AND JUST ANSWE-"

You stopped upon noticing the look on Miguel's face. He seemed shocked, eyes wide open, eyebrows knitted together and mouth agape. Then you noticed a tinge of red make an appearance underneath the bronze color of his cheeks. Finally, you watched as he rapidly looked away from you, dramatically turning his head to the side. "SHOCK! ¿PENDEJA, ESTÁS LOCA?!"

Adrenaline ebbed from your body giving room for your other senses to kick in. You shivered from the lack of heat and soon realized your rage had eclipsed you to the fact you were still very much naked and now with your torso (and tits) completely exposed above the water from your outburst. Heat quickly flooded your face as you plunged back into the water, mortified and vulnerable. 

Another thick stretch of silence fell between the two of you. You hugged yourself tightly over your breasts under the water as if it somehow could alleviate the intense shame coursing through your body. Miguel tried to compose himself, the image of your tits hanging down your torso as water dripped down in rivulets over your skin carouselled in his mind on loop. 

You huffed. Was trying to keep your feelings for him a secret worth it at this point? After sharing a bath with and subsequently flashing your boss, a love confession felt harmless. Might as well rip out that band-aid and live with the consequences of this bundle of awkwardness. You took a deep breath and…

"I asked Lyla to find a Miguel O'Hara variant in my dimension because I wanted to find a version of you with whom I could take out all my pent-up frustrations about you on," you spoke in almost a whisper, eyes away from Miguel. "Because I'm in love with you."

Miguel's eyes widened. He turned to you looking for any sign of mischief - a smirk, a held laugh, a smug stance -, but he found none. You kept your gaze downwards, your arms around you as you tried to withdraw within yourself. 

"And… I've been for the longest time, too," you continued, still avoiding his gaze. "And I would be very grateful if we pretended this confession never happened."

"What…?" Miguel croaked, still processing your words.

"Yeah, kinda pathetic, isn't it?" You scoffed, a defeated smile adorning your face. "It was obvious this would go unrequited the moment it started blooming, but I couldn't help it."

As soon as those last words left your mouth, you felt a surge of shame rising up from your very core, begging you to stop talking. But you pushed it down, the cat was already out of the bag and there was no undoing it. Alas, it was better to exhaust everything regarding this topic now than to regret leaving things unsaid later.

"And you know what the worst part is? I've been trying to compensate for my feelings by assisting you the best I can to help lighten your load," you started talking more emphatically, adding speed and volume to your speech in order to drown out the shame. "You're carrying so much responsibility all by yourself, I wanted to make your life easier if only for a fraction."

"Wait, it… its not-" Miguel was having a hard time keeping up with the onslaught you poured on him. There were a lot of conflicting emotions clashing inside him, his mouth couldn't put into words what he was trying to convey. The sudden surge of speed in your speech was not helping him in the slightest. 

"Yeah, I know. It's not working, isn't it? I figured as such, you've been really uptight about my performance lately," You spat back, not giving him a chance to talk. You were worried that you'd lose your momentum and never be able to gather it back. You needed to get everything out. "But I'll work harder! Just… Maybe it's best if I quit the Lab Assistant job, I don't want to make you uncomfortable at your own workplace and-"

"¡Por favor, deja de hablar!" Miguel's voice echoed through the chamber, halting your verbosity. "It's not unrequited…"  He spoke more quietly, a gentleness in his tone. "Your feelings, that is."

Another stretch of silence took place between you. You slowly uncurled yourself, straightening up your back as you finally looked at Miguel. His stance defied the words he just uttered to the point you wondered if you might have misheard them - he was tense, shoulders slightly up with his hands at his sides in tight fists; he looked down, avoiding your face. 

"Wait, you-," your voice failed you. You quickly cleared your throat before resuming. "You feel the same…?"

Miguel relaxed his shoulders a bit as he exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. He then proceeded to meet your gaze as he rested his hands over his hips. "Yeah…"

"Oh. I… That's perfect! Miguel, I-"

"No, wait," he cut you off. "I owe you an apology and an explanation - yes, I… I realize I have been an asshole to you lately. I'm sorry about that, it's just-," Miguel paused again, collecting his thoughts. He closed his eyes for a second and, when he opened them again, there was nothing but hurt behind them. "I've been trying to distance myself from you, and I know that that's not an excuse to lash out on you, but being near you made that task so much more vexing…"

"... why would you want to distance yourself from me?" 

"To protect you." He responded matter-of-factly.

You frowned slightly. "From what??"

"From me." Miguel said, emphatically pointing a finger at his own face.

"Why would I need protection from you??" You asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. "Miguel, don't get me wrong - you are very strong. But not strong enough to be a threat to me."

"I cannot allow myself to partake on more… intimate activities with you," he spat, avoiding your gaze again. "I would ruin you."

"And what if I want to be ruined?" You asked, taking a few careful steps towards him. Miguel swallowed nervously as he felt your words go straight south. He tried to compose himself before responding.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he muttered. "I am a monster and you know that. There ought to be a better suitor for you."

You took another couple of tentative steps towards him. "I decide what's best for me."

"No, you don't understand," he spat, his gaze towards the water. "You are amazing. You are.. strong, smart, have an intellect to die for and so, so kind. While I have to live in isolation, in a dim-lit Lab, taking shots to keep a semblance of humanity because my powers make me a monster and you don't deserve tha-"

He stopped upon feeling your hand reaching for his. He was so lost in his rant that he failed to notice your approach. He flinched at your proximity but didn't pull away from your touch. 

You took his hand in both of yours, slowly kneading his palm with your thumbs. "Do you trust me?"

"...What do you mean?" Miguel answered, watching your hands work his. At this distance he could finally feel your scent alongside the concoction herb-y smell. 

"Just in general." 

"Of course I do," he responded softly. "I trust you with my life."

"Then trust me when I say I want to be with you," You said, bringing his hand over your chest, right above your heart. He inhaled sharply at the contact, realizing the softness of the tissue below was the top portion of your breast. He finally met your eyes to prevent him from dwelling on the thought. "Trust me that I will tell you if, like you fear, it becomes too much for me."

"I… " He let your words sink in. He really was deciding he was no good for you, robbing you of your own agency on the matter, wasn't he? But something tugged at him in the back of his mind, something that wasn't adding up - a fear that prevented him from just letting go. 

Then it clicked.

He set the hand you held free, cupping your jaw with it. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. Miguel's heart fluttered at the sight, but he quickly composed himself - he had a point to make.

"You have to promise me you will actually tell me if something becomes too much for you. That you won't push yourself past your limit for my sake," he started, capturing your attention again. "I watched the video of our last mission and you put yourself in harm's way to protect me and you almost died. Add that to what you just told me about putting a lot of effort in the Society for my sake, it worries me you'd favor me in detriment of your own well-being." 

"I…," you started.

"That first injury you sustained, it was also a ramification of that dynamic, wasn't it?"

There was no way around that, you figured. Closing your eyes, you rested your own hand atop Miguel's hand on your face. "Yeah… "

With a resolute exhale, you locked eyes with Miguel once more. "I guess we both have things to work on."

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Miguel's mouth. "Yeah…"

"So…," you said after a pause. "Can we kiss?"

Miguel chuckled. "There's nothing I'd like more, hermosa."

He cupped your face with both hands, craning down to face you. He opened his mouth slightly, ghosting your lips for a moment as he took in your scent before colliding into your mouth. The kiss was gentle at first, chaste even; as if Miguel was still not entirely sure it was happening and he was under some hallucinogenic side-effect from the fumes of the concoction. But then he heard you whimper into his mouth - it was a silent thing, almost a whisper -, but it was enough for his heightened hearing to pick-up. 

And then somewhere inside Miguel a switch flipped.

His tongue breached your lips, hungrily tracing the inside of your mouth. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, giving Miguel the leverage he needed to slide his hands down your sides, gripping your hips and bringing your body flushed to his. Like everything in his life, Miguel needed to take control and… it didn't feel unwelcome this time. In fact, the heat emanating from his body against yours paired with the oily dampness the concoction provided and his ministrations in your mouth was making you dizzy - your heart drummed in your ears and you could feel arousal starting to build up in your core.

You instinctively brought your hands to his hair, raking your nails through his scalp. He grunted in response, the sound going straight to your clit. You instantly got addicted, suddenly you needed to hear more; to learn all the pretty sounds Miguel could make. So in between kisses you sank your teeth into his lower lip, earning the groffiest moan you ever heard. Spurred further, Miguel descended to your jaw, nibbling his way to your neck. He nuzzled into the crook of it, inhaling hard to bask in your intoxicating scent, before sinking his teeth into your pulse point.

You moaned shamelessly, the mixture of pain and pleasure only adding to the pressure in your core. His erection pressed against you, twitching at every sound that escaped your lips. Your head spinned as if you were drunk, any reservation you formerly had dissolved.

"Fuck, Miguel," you mewled near his ear and you could sense him tensing up in response; he hardened his grip on your hips and you could feel his talons starting to pierce your skin. A gasp of primal ecstasy from deep within you escaped your lips as his talons extended, sinking further into your flesh. Miguel flooded all your senses, yet you yearned for more.

But suddenly he stopped.

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing your body back and away from him. His head hung between his shoulders as he fought to catch his breath, keeping his arms extended to maintain the distance between you. 

"Miguel, is everything okay?" You asked, worry lacing your words. 

After a moment, he took a deep breath and turned his head up to face you. His skin still flustered from the kiss. "I'm so sorry…"

You frowned slightly. "What for?"

"I lost control, I-," he stuttered anxiously. "I hurt you. I could smell your blood."

"But-," you tried speaking, but Miguel continued.

"Shit, you aren't even fully healed yet," he scrunched up his face, spiraling on. "Fuck, this is a treatment. We're in the middle of your treatment, I-. I'm an idiot."

"Shut-up, O'Hara," you spat, trying to break him from the guilt pit he started sinking in. "I'm practically 100% already from that injury and…"

Your pause brought his attention back to you. You gathered courage to continue.

"...and I rather enjoyed getting rougher a second ago." You finished, avoiding his gaze.

Miguel relaxed a bit, enthralled by your bashful display. "But still I… I'd prefer if we didn't do anything too rough today."

"Oh c'mon, man," you scoffed, very much annoyed. "Don't treat me as an invalid."

"I'm not," he responded. "I'm just not comfortable escalating this when you still have some healing to do."

"But-," 

"Please," Miguel pleaded. The raw vulnerability behind it spoke of the guilt he still felt for your injury. It faltered your resolve.

"Alright…," you pouted. "Not easy after all that, but fine."

"Don't even get me started, hermosa," Miguel responded, letting go of your shoulders. "Although…," he said, scanning the area around the pool. "I think there's something we could do."

"Hm?"

"Sit on the edge of the pool," Miguel said curtly, the change of tone catching you off-guard.

"What?"

"You heard me, princesa," he spoke again in a more sultry voice, half-lidded scarlet eyes meeting yours. "Let me see you."

"I-," you suddenly felt very shy at his request, the small break from the heated kiss you two shared seemed to have cooled you down enough to bring back your self-awareness. Sitting on the edge of the pool meant being on full-display for Miguel, way more exposed than the seconds of accidentally flashing him from before. 

Your eyes shifted back and forth from the edge to Miguel, unsure of what to do. But he was having none of it; he cupped your jaw again, his touch enough to ground you a bit, bringing your attention back to him. "I need to see you, chiquita. All of you."

"Okay," you blurted out in a resolute exhale. You turned towards the edge and paused before moving forward. "Prepare to be disappointed."

"I could never."

Miguel watched you with bated breath as you hoisted your body up the edge of the pool with your arms. Your plump ass emerged next, droplets of water running down its surface as you finally brought your legs up and onto the hard floor. If he died now, he would have died happy. You sat with your back turned to him and your legs to the side, as you held your torso up with your arms. That scene, paired with the rivulets of pearlescent water running down your body and the vapors from the pool painted an image Miguel could only describe as divine. You were his goddess and he wished for nothing more than to be your most adulant devotee.

Finally, you slowly turned around, bringing your legs back in the water as you scooted your hips to the edge of the pool. You kept your hands on your lap and your legs pressed together; subconsciously trying to hide yourself from Miguel's gaze. 

But Miguel was nothing but awestruck, trying to formulate a proper reaction. He moved towards you, placing a hand on each of your knees. "Not once in my wildest fantasies I could attain the perfection that is your body." 

You inhaled sharply at his earnest words, heat blooming across your face. His hold on your knees sent shivers down your spine, beginning to fan your embers back to flames. His thumbs caressed the inner side of your knees, a silent plea to let him pry them apart. His crimson eyes devoured you wholly, his gaze searing your skin.

"Let me make you feel good, mi preciosa," Miguel husked, as his eyes met yours from under his brow. His hands guided your knees apart and you followed, exposing your innermost self to him. You watched his gaze falling to your cunt and his chest heaving in response. He proceeded to hover his mouth over your inner thigh - the contrast of his hot breath against your wet skin driving you insane -, before planting a kiss on the soft surface. He kept kissing you agonizingly slow, teasingly making his way to your center; each of his ministrations eliciting a gaspy moan from within you. Finally, he pressed a kiss directly on your engorged clit, keeping his lips on it in the longest iteration of a kiss you ever witnessed, drawing out his teasing for as long as possible.

"M-Miguel, for the love of-."

You never finished your sentence. He hooked his hands under your hips, tilting your pelvis up and licked a fat stripe with the flat of his tongue up your slit and you whimpered. With his grip on your hips giving him leverage, he began eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue on your clit, kneading your outer lips with the pad of his thumbs and lapping up your essence like he needed it to stay alive. You instinctively gripped his hair for purchase, his relentlessness robbing you of your breath. 

"Don't hold back, hermosa," he said, coming up for air. " Show me all the pretty sounds you can make."

He let go of your hips with one of his hands before plunging a finger between your folds and into your velvety insides. You moaned at the intrusion as he deliciously rotated his finger, massaging your inner walls, before settling his pad on the sensitive spongy spot directly behind your clit. You buckled involuntarily into his mouth as he curled his fingers and he chuckled against your cunt, the vibration adding to the pressure building up in your core.

Miguel dove a second finger inside you and began pumping them in and out while rotating his wrist. A cry fell from your lips at the new pace, the obscene squelching sounds of your arousal permeating the air further compressing the coil inside you. A part of you didn't want to cum yet, didn't want your first orgasm with Miguel to be with his mouth when his cock was right there. 

"M-Miguel, ple- ah! Please," you managed to blurt out. "I need you inside me."

Miguel planted a kiss on your cunt before responding. "I'll use my cock if you can refrain from cumming for the next… 5 minutes."

He resumed his assault right after with a renewed vigor and you mewled. There was no way you were gonna last five minutes.

To say Miguel was faring any better was a lie. Despite his facade, his whole body screamed for release. He had his lower half pressed to the wall of the pool, lightly humping into it to get some form of relief. It was taking all of his self control not to give into your plea and plow into you then and there, to feel your warm walls around his cock instead of the cold tiles of the pool.

But you were still hurt, your wound was still healing; he couldn't risk bringing more harm upon you. 

With a final barrage to your hole and a long suck on your clit your band finally snapped. Your climax hit you like a supernova, white hot and powerful; you buckled into Miguel's face until it died down and he promptly provided the guidance you needed through it. When you finally came back from your high and managed to catch your breath, you turned to Miguel.

"You bastard." You spat feigning annoyance. He chuckled as he wiped your juices from his chin.

"Didn't see you complaining when you came." He teased, licking his fingers clean. 

"You know what I meant," you retorted. "Miguel, please, just-... Just pound me. I need you to fill me up so fucking bad."

Miguel's cock twitched at your words, still painfully hard underneath the water. He was fighting hard to keep his head cool and not just give in, to throw caution to the wind and just slam into you like you wanted. To make matters worse, you never moved after you came, still in its afterglow, blissfully unaware you kept your lower-half very much on display to him - your glistening hole practically welcoming him. He forced himself to look away before his resolve faltered.

"Next time, Chiquita," he said softly. "I promise."

"What about you, though?" You asked, hoisting yourself up on your elbows.

"I can take care of myself later."

You groaned in response. You hated when Miguel got like that, so focused on an emotionally charged aspect he couldn't fathom considering other takes. There was no need to forgo all sexual activity if he was worried about your healing, especially after eating you out (so fucking well). With a huff, you got back in the water - if there was something you learned working in his Lab all this time is that Miguel needed help seeing other points of views sometimes.

You gently pressed your torso to Miguel's back, tenderly enveloping your arms around his middle in a hug. He flinched under your touch at first, but relaxed soon after. You proceeded to run your fingers on his abs, slowly massaging the taut muscle.

"I could take care of you, you know," you whispered. 

Miguel felt his heart race at your words. He was already getting lost with the way your body pressed against his, the heat emanating from you paired with your scent causing him to walk the edge between lunacy and prudence. Looking down, he could see your delicate hands working his muscles - every little press of your fingers sent electric bolts downwards, where he yearned for your touch the most. Would it be so bad to indulge…?

"Y-your wound…"

"I'm sure using my hands wouldn't compromise my healing," you responded, trying to sound alluring. You tentatively slid your fingers down his lower belly, stopping just below his hips and Miguel hissed. You drew circles on the region slowly, feeling him shudder against you. "Let me make you feel good, Miggy."

"I-," Miguel tried speaking, but the little brain power he still had was having a hard time fighting against the sensation of your dainty fingers so close to his cock. The fact the whole massage was now happening hidden from his eyes under the water only made each touch feel searing hot.

He desperately needed release. 

"... Yeah," he husked. "Just… don't overdo yourself."

You grinned behind him before finally sliding a hand to his cock, enveloping your fingers around his shaft. He hissed at the touch, getting so wound up had made him a lot more sensitive. You glided your hand along his cock, feeling his veins against the pads of your fingers before reaching his tip. You pulled back his hood, circling your thumb around the gland before gently rubbing the slit; Miguel hitched a breath.

"Does it feel good?" You asked, feigning innocence. Having control over him, knowing he could turn the tides easily if he so wished, felt oddly good.

"Y-yeah," he managed to huff out. 

Pleased with his response, you started languidly pumping his cock and Miguel let out a strangled moan. You slid your body to his side to gain more range of motion while gently bringing your other hand to his ass. 

The pace of your hand was slowly depleting Miguel of his remaining sanity. With his heightened sensitivity, the movement alone was both a lot and not enough. Your other hand kneaded his ass gently, occasionally prodding the rim of his hole, putting him in a position of vulnerability unfamiliar to him, yet not unwelcome. It felt good to relinquish control, especially with you at the helm.

But he needed more.

"Please…," he whispered. You lifted an eyebrow at his tone.

"Please what, handsome?" You teased.

"I… I need more."

"You need to speak more clearly, big guy."

"Mierda," he cussed. "I need you to stroke me faster."

"Atta, boy".

You increase your pace, gently rotating your wrist as you pumped him. Miguel groaned, throwing his head back. He instinctively brought an arm over your shoulders for purchase, holding you against his body. He could feel the pressure in his abdomen growing, his release getting dangerously close. 

"Y-yo voy a, yo voy a…, (I-I'm gonna, I'm gonna…)" he groaned, his peak hastily approaching.

And then you stopped. And he hissed.

"N-no no no, please…," he cried out, desperately trying to rut in your hand. But it was no use.

You had the audacity to chuckle.

You cupped his jaw, bringing his attention down to you. You guided his head down, hungrily taking his lips with your own. He moaned in your mouth, frustration and arousal blending together, flooding all of his senses. 

You both parted for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. He looked at you with half-lidded drunken eyes, a gentle giant tamed by lust.

"C'mon, big guy. Let's get you sat at the edge," you whispered in his ear. "I want to taste you."

There wasn't a fiber in Miguel's body capable of denying you at this point.

With his back to the wall of the pool, Miguel hoisted his torso up by his arms, plopping himself down at pool's edge with his lower legs in the water. His heavy cock throbbed, thick and dark red, covered in droplets of a mixture of precum and the oily pearlescent concoction; a sight that had you salivating.

Miguel watched you approach him, slotting yourself between his thighs. You gently pulled his hood back, revealing the gland to the thick air of the chamber, before pressing your tongue flat to the underside of it and locking eyes with him.

"Fuck," was all he could muster. There was no way he would last much longer inside your warm mouth after getting edged. In fact, he was afraid a couple more kitten licks would be enough to finish him off. But he wanted to endure a little more, to enjoy you for as long as he could.

You rotated your tongue around his head a few times, catching as much precum as you could, before enveloping him with your mouth. Miguel hissed, instinctively bringing a hand to your hair for purchase. You bobbed your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his shaft in the process. 

"Nena, I won't last," he warned you. 

You hummed around his cock in response, bringing your hand up to him with your pointer finger pressed against your thumb, asking him for 'just a little longer'.

Miguel groaned. He would try. For you, he would try.

You started to slowly increase your pace, taking him deeper with each movement. Miguel could feel the pressure in his abdomen building up again faster. He tensed his muscles and gripped the edge of the pool with his other hand in an attempt to sooth it, to prolong the pleasure you provided for as long as possible.

But you weren't planning to play fair. You enveloped the remainder of his shaft you couldn't mouth with one hand, stroking him alongside the movement of your head, and used your other hand to reach his neglected balls, fondling them in tandem to your ministrations. It was all too much, Miguel threw his head back and could only tighten his hold on your hair in warning before spilling into your mouth hard, completely emptying his seed in you in a fervent release.

You soothed him through it, until his first wince of over-stimulation. You then gently pulled yourself back, letting go of his softening cock, before lifting your chin up to him and making a show of swallowing his spent and opening your mouth to present your clean tongue to him. Miguel shuddered.

"No me hagas esto," he said, still catching his breath. "You'll be the death of me."

"A good way to go, I hope?" You jested. 

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Miguel chuckled. 

You two sat in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow. You rested your head on his thigh, drawing lazy circles on his other's quads while Miguel gently rubbed your scalp, admiring the peace in your countenance.

"We should probably leave soon, I'm getting all pruny," you broke the silence.

"I do so love raisins," Miguel joked. You huffed in return.

"Shut-up, O'Hara," you spat back, feigning annoyance. You paused before continuing. "I'm gonna hold you accountable, you know."

"Hm?"

"To that promise," you clarified. "About pounding me next time."

Miguel chuckled before responding.

"It's a deal."

[cillianhead]

Some sub!Neil Lewis would save my life right now I think 💋😋

Oh my gosh! Ask and you shall receive. I'm so excited this is my first request <3

(Also I'm so sorry if you didn't want this to be smutty, I'd be more than happy to also write some fluffy stuff!)

Pussy-Whipped || Sub!Neil Lewis x Reader

summary: When Gumshoe Video hosts a small Halloween party, Neil can't help but feel disappointed you're not there.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ Minors DNI, pussy eating, vulgar language, possibly poor writing from me (barely edited.), let me know if there is anything else I'm missing!

Neil had gathered a decent sized group of people to have over at the store for Halloween night. It was nothing too major but it was definitely a good sized party. There was plenty of snacks and drinks, couples making out against walls, people debating on whether Christmas was better than Halloween. Really, it was a perfect little party, people were having a great time. Halloween music played, fake cobwebs lined the walls, fake spiders, you know, all that jazz. Later on at Gumshoe Video, there would be a couple of scary movies playing to really celebrate the occasion. Well unfortunately it was missing one key feature.

You.

It left Neil feeling easily irritated and whiny all night. He was all dressed up as Dracula from the 1931 film. The most important piece was missing to him of course. Lucien and Jonathan would tease him for being so grumpy.

"You'd probably give up this store just to see her again, huh?" Lucien was grinning at him, enjoying seeing Neil suffer.

"Shut up, man," Neil just smiled uncomfortably, sick of their teasing, nudging Jonathan with a huff.

"You're pussy-whipped." Jonathan said before Neil slipped into his office, which was strictly off limits during the party.

You had already made plans with some of your friends, weeks prior. Some halloween party that was also a birthday party for a good friend, you promised Neil though that you would show up to the store afterwards. He was starting to doubt you would.

Neil always worried you thought he was too lame or you were way too out of his league. You would roll your eyes every time and just give him a reassuring kiss.

Feeling down, he sat in his office chair, swivelling around and twiddling his thumbs. He missed you, it had been a few days since you had seen each other, both busy with work, he was shaking with anticipation at even the tiniest possibility of seeing you.

To be honest, Neil was a needy little thing. He struggled going even a day or two without seeing you. And oh how fucking his fist could never compare to fucking you. God, even just thinking about your pussy, he could feel his trousers tighten and he threw his head back with a groan.

A zip and a tug could be heard as he slipped his hand down his pants, teasing the tip of his pink cock with his thumb. Whining quietly, precum staining his cotton briefs. Fuck, he didn't expect to be walked in on, touching himself like a pervert.

"Neil?" Your voice. He quickly swivelled his chair back around, facing the doorway to look at you like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Neil just coughed, trying to act casual, trying to pretend he hadn't just been thinking about having your tits in his mouth. But he knew you knew.

"H-Hey!" He looked you up and down, a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks as he looked at what you were wearing. A white corset, laced up tightly, hugging the perfect curves of your body. A sorry excuse of a dress tightly clinging to your skin underneath it, your hair had been pulled down out of the hairdo you had it in previously so it fell messily over your shoulders and white stockings adorned your thighs. He could cum looking at you then and there. He wasn't really sure what you were supposed to be but he didn't really care at this point in time.

"What were you up to, my love?" Sauntering over to him and rounding the table to get closer to him. Neil looked up at you like a lost puppy as you sat down on the edge of the table. The smell of your perfume made him feel like he could pass out, you were intoxicating. "You miss me?" "Yeah... yeah... I did..." Neil nodded dumbly, looking at your pretty lips that he hadn't gotten the chance to taste in oh so long. "Missed you so much, you've all I've been thinking 'bout." You held onto his chin, smiling at him knowingly.

"Looked everywhere for you, thought you'd be out with the rest of the party, Neil baby."

"S-sorry... I just..." His head hung low, feeling embarrassed for being so needy. "I just really missed you... didn't feel like hanging out with any of those people..."

You just kept smiling at him sweetly and his eyes watched as you casually shimmied down your panties, sticky and wet as you tossed them behind you. The skirt of your dress didn't cover the sight of your bare cunt and as you leaned against his desk, spreading your legs for Neil to see better in the low light of his office, he didn't hesitate to dive right in, knowing what to do. Desperate to taste you, like a dog that hasn't eaten in weeks. He moaned at the taste, eyes rolling back in his skull as he was gifted with your wet pussy against his face.

"That's fuckin' it," You moaned, letting your head lean back as he made out with your pussy. "Show me how much you missed me, Neil..." Your mouth was agape, he always ate you out like his life depended on it.

Your fingers in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your soaking core only encouraged him further, causing him to groan into you. Your clit fit perfectly between his pretty lips as you desperately ground your cunt against his face, his nose just perfectly caressing you. His tongue poked inside you, flicking up to the spot where you needed him most.

"God! Fuck... you're such a good boy... so good for me...!" Gasping out. This was all Neil needed, he didn't care if he wasn't allowed to get off for the rest of his life, as long as he had you, to touch and to taste, he didn't care, you were all he needed. The sound of you whimpering loudly made his cock throb, he felt like he was close to cumming himself. Neil always described it as heaven on earth, when you came on his face, he felt like he had accomplished all he was good for. "Want me to cum on your face, pretty?" You let out, sensitive and so turned on seeing Neil down on his knees, looking so content with life as he sloppily ate you up.

"Please..." He mumbled obediently before letting you continue to fuck his face. His tongue was pressed flat against your clit as you came, further wetting his face, what makeup he had on for Dracula now smudged across his face and your inner thighs. He kept slurping your juices up until you tugged his face away. Glistening and a dumb dopey smile on Neil's face was the sight that met you.

"I missed you so much, baby," Still recovering, you leaned down and gave him a gentle loving kiss. His tongue flicked out to the corners of his mouth, licking the juices that were still on his face. "You did so good." He blushed at the praise. You always thought he could never look prettier, red cheeks, big blue eyes, and your cum dripping off of his nose and chin with that big satisfied smile.

"I love you..." He whispered, placing a small kiss on your clit before standing up and connecting your lips once again. "Love you so much..."

-

Hope you enjoyed :)

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Semi Finals

Propaganda why Tony Stark is insufferable:

Super long, sorry lol

Thinking about how in Homecoming when Peter accidentally caused that boat to get split in half because the Vulture’s gun exploded and Tony was acting like as if Peter was completely in the wrong for going there just because he did it without his permission. He was acting like as if Peter was out of line and “disobeyed him”, trying to act like his father. And then I remember how in CACW he’s the one who scouted Peter in the first place just because he saw he might be useful against a personal squabble between him and Captain America despite knowing that he was a kid and he’s just now acknowledging how dangerous it is because Peter “acted on his own”

Completely hijacking Peter’s superhero story and trying to control his every move (Training wheels protocol and baby monitor thing he put in the suit), acting like Peter should’ve known that Tony would send someone in despite the fact that he’d been ignoring him for 2 months since Civil War and not keeping him updated on anything!!

How the hell is peter supposed to know Tony is going to listen to him when he treats him like a kid instead of a superhero when it’s convenient for him? And when Tony loses his temper after Peter says he’s 15 not 14 like “the adult is talking” bitch he could literally flatten you without your suit!!!

I guess in a way he is acting like a father but like the absentee kind. He’s more like a sperm donor father trying to act like he has any rights over Peter’s life smh.

It’s not that reprimanding Peter for the situation is bad, but the way he makes it seem as if Peter is irredeemable as if Tony wasn't a literal weapons dealer lmfao. He could’ve said what was the truth about it without completely invalidating him saying shit like “no thanks to you” after Peter asked if everyone is okay when it’s literally thanks to Peter finding a lead on those guys in the first place that they were even noticed and it’s not like the FBI being there could’ve in no way caused a similar situation.

And then near the end of the movie when he’s getting crushed by the building rubble screaming and crying for someone to help him where the fuck is Tony?? That scene just proved that he never needed Tony’s suit in the first place to be Spider-Man since he had to use 100% his own strength to lift it off of him. I know he would’ve found the motivation even if Tony hadn’t been involved in the first place to give him the suit, take it away from him and have the words “if you’re nothing without the suit you shouldn’t have it“ echo in his head. Why did Tony even take the suit away? Like as if he expects Peter to stop being spoderman without it??? Holy fuck. This is why you don’t make it out of endgame /j /srs.

When Tony took this suit away from Peter he was like “God I sound like my dad“ shouldn’t that be a red flag to him? Wasn’t he literally just saying that he wished his dad was better than he was?? Lmfao

Tony is so annoying. When they first meet he straight up bullies Peter into fighting for his personal bullshit, insults and objectifies Aunt May in front of him, spits into his trashcan and is in general being pushy af. He blackmails Peter when he doesn’t wanna come to Germany with him AND HE DOESNT EVEN EXPLAIN WHY HE WANTS HIM TO COME. Uncomfortable vibes lol.

Tony being the one to tell peter “if Captain America wanted to hurt you he would’ve” when Peter was trying to state his case, yet HE’S also the one who put Peter in harms way when he didn’t even want to go with him???

Telling Peter that he should stick to being a “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man” (stealing his thing once again) when that’s what Peter _was_ doing before Tony took him out of his zone and filled his head with grander things to be apart of….bitch? Die. Ohh waaaait (jkjk) but yeah

There’s the usual “he’s a war criminal who only felt bad about it when he realized his weapons were killing white Americans as well as Arab people” reason, and also he’s just super annoying. You had to be there for the original Avengers shitty dialogue a la “we have a Hulk” that had Tumblr in a vicious chokehold. Also he was supposed to FINALLY go away after destroying all his suits in Iron Man 3 but he just… didn’t! Which is bullshit.

Portrayed as a hero because? He chose to no longer mass produce war weapons and bombs after suffering the consequences. Huge hypocrite. Doesn't care about anyone but himself. Will backstab people if they believe in human rights when it's inconvenient to him. Seen as a hero while he's the personification of privileged people saying they're not privileged

Tony is so annoying. When they first meet he straight up bullies Peter into fighting for his personal bullshit, insults and objectifies Aunt May in front of him, spits into his trashcan and is in general being pushy af. He blackmails Peter when he doesn’t wanna come to Germany with him AND HE DOESNT EVEN EXPLAIN WHY HE WANTS HIM TO COME. Uncomfortable vibes lol.

Tony being the one to tell peter “if Captain America wanted to hurt you he would’ve” when Peter was trying to state his case, yet HE’S also the one who put Peter in harms way when he didn’t even want to go with him???

Telling Peter that he should stick to being a “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man” (stealing his thing once again) when that’s what Peter _was_ doing before Tony took him out of his zone and filled his head with grander things to be apart of….bitch? Die. Ohh waaaait (jkjk) but yeah

She’s a hypocrite who is ready to restrict the freedom of others when they make one mistake, but when he makes a mistake he figures he’s able to handle himself

Propaganda why Evan Hansen is insufferable:

just. oh my god. i cant put it into words. hes horrible im sure the rest of the world can find better ways to explain it than me

he lies to a grieving family about having been their dead son’s best friend. he does a bunch of patently awful things to either keep up this lie or benefit from it. he is portrayed as the good guy oh poor little guy he just has anxiety THE ENTIRE TIME

Lying creep

Lies about having been friends with a suicide victim so he can get in the pants of said victim's sister. The narrative excuses it and gives Evan no consequences for his actions because he's uwu anxious sadboi. What more is there to say? Other than the fact Ben Platt looked far too old to play a teenage boy so the film version is downright disturbing.

[dailyunstableeve]

Grave visit au

Hobie Brown x Reader

w: angst, Miguel got punch, sadness, lost, Hobie misses you, self hatred

a/n: this took longer to finish, sorry for the wait. Got stuck in irl stuff and I really leave this reality so badly so I can go comfort my poor Hobie 😭

Grave visit au Masterlist

Masterlist

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

Lover version

When your death is announced, Hobie didn't waste a second at all and gave Miguel a punch on the face because it's Miguel who put you in the mission, leading you to die. Gosh, Hobie was furious. Hobie was happy with you, he was able to finally find someone he loved and yet he lost you because of some stupid anomalies mission.

Your body is buried in 928, because that's your home, and your universe isn't, since no one needed you there except for the Spider society.

Hobie was given a time out for punching Miguel in the face but that doesn't stop him from visiting your grave. Hate to say but Hobie hate visiting your grave, he hates it so much because everytime he sees your name carved on the gravestone, he would always ended up blaming him for not going to the mission with you, the amount of hate he would put on himself is unimaginable, and he doesn't like the feeling of it.

But he still ended up visiting you every two to three days, because he misses you so damn hard.

Whenever Hobie visited, he would have his guitar with him. Hobie would play your favorite songs or any new songs that he has made in the memories of you.

"I miss you so much luv," he hugged your gravestone, then rested his back against it, "the world seems more gray recently." Because you are the color of his life. (And he would hardly change color, as in, he mostly stays in his gray mode)

"I miss you."

Hobie skipped so many performances, even at start he drowned himself in it, thinking it's the one thing that can make him happy again but whenever he looked at the crowd of people, and that exact spot you'll always stand at, you weren't there anymore, and it hurts him so much that he will no longer see his favorite face in the crowd anymore.

"Sometimes I seriously wanted to dig your grave and place it to mine, but I know this is your home," Hobie gently smiled at your grave, "but I needed you, and you're laying here."

"You are the harmony of my life, what am I supposed to do now?" Hobie missed your voice, your morning voice, gently waking him up, the little humming coming from you.

"At least you're at peace now, forget all the pain." You shared your pain to Hobie before, how your universe treated you, as it what's the point of being a hero when no one needed you.

"Remember your plushie? Apparently Gwen manages to sneak some from your room at the HQ, because Miguel keeps your room off limits but the plushie doesn't smell like you anymore." Because Hobie hugged your plushies to sleep every night just to remember your scent and doesn't feel lonely about it.

Hobie is not the type who wanted marriage, he's more of a person who's "as long we stay, we stay forever," but that doesn't stop him from thinking about the future he could have with you, of how he will held many show just to sing out his love to you, of all the nights he would held you close to him and fall asleep together, of you and Hobie swing around the city and talk about everything.

"Just why wasn't I assigned to it?" And he will never stop blaming himself for your death.

[ad7red]

heyyyy so basically i have an idea but idk if you write for Spiderman!Ethan Landry so if you don’t you can ignore this. butttt if you do i was wondering if you could do something like where the reader dates Ethan and one night she’s like walking back from somewhere and like something happens like she gets attacked or like someone steals something of her or like some weirdo starts flirting with her. But then Spiderman comes and saves the day :)) And then when he does he shows his face and the reader is like You’re spiderman? and He’s like yeah and She’s just kinda like wth and a bit confused cos she wouldn’t except it

Sorry it’s long btw it’s just a idea i’ve had for a while 😫

please and thank you 🙏 💕💕

AN ; it's ok! i love long reqs they give me more to go off of lmao

WARNING ; almost sa (nothing vivid at all!!), asshole-ification of frankie, that’s all i think?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The music was blasting in your ears, there were too many people, you felt hot. You’ve had around 4 cups and they weren't making you feel any better. You needed to get out of this party asap, but you could barely make out the exit with the mob of people surrounding you. And as if the night couldn’t get any worse some dude named Frankie kept trying to hit on you, even after telling him numerous times that you had a boyfriend whom you were very content with. He eventually walked away to get a drink and you took your shot to escape the dense man.

After a bit of walking, you found the glowing neon ‘EXIT’ sign right ahead. You let out a relieved sigh before seeing that annoying familiar face. The think-witted boy couldn't take a hint for the life of him. You quickly ran to the exit in hopes he wouldn't follow you there as well. You hoped wrong.

“Will you just leave me alone? I told you already I have a boyfriend!” Before you got the chance to run off again he grabbed you by the arm firmly, which was sure to bruise up later. “What type of boyfriend doesn't come to a party with their girlfriend? You don't deserve whoever that asshole is.” You were stunned, how was he talking about Ethan as if he knew him personally? He didn't even know his name was Ethan!

“My boyfriend is not at this party because he's busy! But if I asked him I'm sure he would've agreed. And for the record, he's not an asshole. If anyone is, it would be you.” You said as trying to yank your hand away, only causing his grip to become stronger. “I’d be careful with your choice of words princess.” His free hand had started to creep up your thigh, slowly but surely. However before he could get any further a shadow flew apon the both of you. Before you could make out what, who, it was you quickly felt someone’s arms wrap around your neck. And it certainly wasn't Frankie’s, since his we're still wrapped around your thigh. However, that didn't last long as soon as you both realized who it was. Your local spiderman.

Frankie cocked an eyebrow, confused about why he was there, “What’s up with you? Aren’t you supposed to be where there’s a crime?”. Spiderman dramatically pulled his hand to his heart as if he had been shot, “What? I can’t hang out with my girlfriend?” He slightly tilted his head, giving you the signal to act along. Now, you were reluctant to play along, on one hand, you were dying to get away from Frankie, on the other hand, you did have a boyfriend. And it wasn’t Spiderman.

“He’s your boyfriend?” Frankie asked while taking a step back. You slowly nodded your head. “Now, are you going to back the hell off and leave her alone, or will I have to use my super cool and awesome spider powers?” He had said it in a goofy tone and very lightly, but you knew it was true. Spiderman cracked his knuckles, and while you shouldn’t have been laughing at a time like this, but the alcohol had completely taken over when a giggle just snuck past your lips.

After the threat, Frankie didn’t hesitate to walk back into the party, but not without muttering a few “stupid Spiderman” “fucking cockblocker” and some “assholes.” on his way in. As soon as he walked in Spiderman’s whole goofy manner had disappeared. He thought for a minute, about how he was gonna word whatever he was about to say. “He didn't-” He paused, anger laced throughout his voice. “He didn't touch you, right?” You noticed his fist had been clenched. You quickly shook your head “No! No! Just the thigh thing..” You watched closely as his first unclenched a bit, regardless still in a loose fist. There was an awkward silence after that, tension so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife.

“Did you drink anything?” He had asked, and even though it was quite obvious you were a tad bit tipsy you still nodded your head no. This caused a chuckle out of him, and if you weren’t mistaken it sounded just like Ethan’s but before you could ponder too long about it, the cold breeze of the night cleared any thoughts in your head.

“Can I walk you home? Just in case the freak comes back?” You shrugged while nodding your head. The both of you started walking in the chilly city before you realized you never properly thanked the hero. “Thanks, by the way. For, you know,” you responded while twiddling your thumbs idly. “No problem! I'm just happy was there!” His goofy tone had quickly returned as if it never left. Soon you two found conversations easily, switching whenever your attention span left the topic. You started to really see the similarities between him and Ethan the more you talked with the masked vigilante.

“You know, you really remind me of my boyfriend Ethan.” You paused recognizing what you said might’ve not come out the way you wanted it to. “Not in a weird way!” He laughed, Ethan couldn't help but poke some fun. “Really? Tell me about him” You didn't waver to start rambling about all the things you liked about Ethan.

“Oh, Oh! And he has the cutest curly hair I've ever seen!” you were fuming with excitement, even though you were only talking about him you could feel a smile growing on your face. “I have curly hair too,” you pushed aside his comment. “Yeah, but his is probably cuter. Definitely cuter actually. No offense.” And though you couldn't see it Ethan had a smile growing on his as well. “You sure it's cuter? You haven't even seen mine.” You quickly responded to his snarky comment. “Don't need to! He blows everyone else out of the competition!”. You both started to laugh before you realized you were already at your dorm.

“Oh, this is one’s mine! Thanks again.” and you were very thankful for the superhero coming to your aid, and providing some entertainment on the way here. He waved off your words replying “Again, it was no problem,” He stood there for about 30 seconds seemingly debating about something in his head.

He rearranged his feet while speaking, “Do you wanna know something’s about my girlfriend?”. “What?” you quickly replied accidentally sounding meaner than you had intended. His feet came to a stop, but only to move his hand behind his neck. “I mean, you told me all about yours, it’s only fair if I tell you about mine.” His tone had completely changed, nervousness evident in his voice. “Sure?” you replied, unsure of where he was taking this.

He went on to name her features, yet they were suspiciously similar to yours. Connecting the dots you thought out loud, “Wait..” And before you could even finish your thought Spiderman pulled his mask off. You took a step back, your lips slightly parted. “Ethan?”. He played with the mask in his hands before responding “Heya,”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

okay I ended this horribly but i had no idea how to pull it all together lmao ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO POST

[imaginingmoonlight]

Hastie Lanyon was a Dead Man: a Lanyon/Jekyll oneshot

Word count: 1485

Notes:

Guess who’s been fixating on silly Victorian men? ME! Yeah I had fun with this. I’m so sorry it will get a bit angsty. This is up on ao3! My account is under the same name as here :) Warning: major character death.

Hastie Lanyon was a dead man. These shaking gulps of air, these slow and rhythmic heartbeats would be his very last. He could feel it- his life slipping through his fingers like water off a duck's back. It would be gone soon, gone like the sunlight slipping into the horizon or clouds whisked away by the wind. Would anyone care? Would anyone notice? Would anyone miss him once he was gone? Utterson, perhaps. He was a good chap. Loyal, he was, albeit a little dull. Hastie had always considered the lawyer to be one of his closest friends, whether the feeling was reciprocated or not. He had even visited a day ago, the very second he had heard of the illness. That was hard. Oh so hard. To know you were dying? That was one story. To admit it aloud? That was another story entirely. Lanyon remembered how the tears had stabbed at his eyes, how his chest had tightened, how his hands trembled with fear. Utterson was patient, sympathetic, even a little teary himself. But when he had mentioned Jekyll...

Jekyll.

Where would he be now? Was he even Jekyll anymore? No doubt, that Hyde character had probably taken over completely now. Lanyon was considerably more upset at the thought than he should have been. He hated the man, don't get him wrong. The very thought of him made his blood boil and his skin crawl with an army of spiders. Yet... the thought also made his heart swell. A swell of memories, joy, happiness, love . Jekyll, before his downfall, had been much more than a friend. Much, much more. "Just a friend" wouldn't stay up until first light drinking wine and talking about their deepest, darkest secrets. "Just a friend" wouldn't brush their knuckles against yours while walking just a little too often to be accidental. "Just a friend" wouldn't share a kiss, soft and tender, with you in a moonlit study. No, Jekyll was not a friend, not by a long shot.

When was the last time he had seen him, before the incident? Well, it must have been winter, at least 9 or 10 years ago. They were much younger, of course. Reckless. The two were in Jekyll's house, sat huddled together in the same armchair. It was cold outside, deathly cold, yet they were heated by the hearth both in the centre of the room and the ones hidden in their hearts. It was silent, but a comfortable silent. Silent like the calm right after a storm. Silent like the early morning. Words were whispered, lingering on steady breaths and gentle gazes. It was a perfect night. Until it wasn't.

"Hastie?" Jekyll's voice had a shaken quality behind it, the usual sweetness cracking. Immediately, Lanyon could tell something was wrong.

"Yes, dear?" He had replied, pretending to be none the wiser while the worry gripped his gut like a vice.

"Do you ever think about... You know,"

"No, I don't know. Go on?"

"Running away?" The words could barely be heard as they escaped his lips. Lanyon had been taken aback. What were you supposed to say to that? What could he possibly answer?

"Well, no, not really." Why would he? Life here was perfect. He had a blossoming career. He had a blossoming love. What more could he ask for? What more could he want?

"Not really? Not once?"

"I have no reason to. I have everything I need right here." He leaned over to rest his head on his partner's shoulder, fighting to keep his tired eyes open. Jekyll had smiled, genuine and warm, but there had been a slight sadness hiding at the very corners of his mouth.

"Of course. Of course. But what about freedom? What about the liberty to be ourselves out on the streets? We have to hide from the public eye every day, Hastie. Why should we? Why should we have to cater to a world that looks down on us?" Oh. Lanyon looked down at his feet, shoes still on from a day working.

"Because that's life, Henry. Not everyone will accept us and that's okay."

"How can you be okay with hiding this? Surely you can't bear to live the rest of your life hiding a secret? Hiding the most beautiful truth to exist?"

"Henry, we can't just leave. That's absurd."

"But is it?"

"Yes, it is." Lanyon sat up straight, gaze hardening ever so slightly. It was enough for Jekyll to see, though; he recoiled a little, flinching with a grimace. "What about our jobs, Henry? What about our lives?"

"Hastie, you are my life!"

"Then why isn't this enough? Why do you want more?"

"You know why. I may have you but we'd still be shunned if we so much as linked arms in public. Is that the life you want to live?"

“I-“ the words wouldn’t come out.

“So come with me!”

“…I can’t.” He choked the sounds out, barely a whisper. “I can’t just leave my life’s work.”

Jekyll shook his head. The disappointment and anger and hurt grew in his eyes, a distant inferno swirling in his irises.

“Henry, I’m so sorry-“

“No. It’s fine.”

And with that, Henry Jekyll had strode out the door.

It would be years until he heard from Jekyll again. It had gotten worse over time. It turns out time doesn’t bring fondness; like a grape in a barrel, it brings bitterness and sucks the sweetness out. Lanyon could barely take hearing Jekyll’s name in public again. Ever since he’d left, the man had completely thrown himself into his work. Immoral work. The devil’s work. Utter scientific balderdash. This didn’t really bother Lanyon too much, of course, but at least he had an excuse to publicly hate the scientist. No one had to know about their… past relations.

But oh, how he missed him desperately.

One can forgive. One can move past. But one can never forget. And god, he’d never forget those nights, just the two of them, spilling secrets like water through open fingers and sharing sweet, lovesick looks lit by candlelight. They were the best nights of his life. And they were gone now.

At least, that’s what Lanyon thought. Then came that December night. The night was suffocating, a thick fog laying over the city like a distasteful throw. A thick air of mystery loitered. That mystery only built when a letter was delivered to his door. A letter from none other than Henry Jekyll.

So eagerly had Lanyon sliced open the envelope and delved in. So quickly had his heart skipped a beat or two.

“Dear Lanyon, You are one of my oldest friends; and although we may have differed at times on scientific questions, I cannot remember, at least on my side, any break in our affection. There was never a day when, if you had said to me, ‘Jekyll, my life, my honour, my reason, depend upon you,’ I would not have sacrificed my left hand to help you. Lanyon, my life, my honour my reason…”

Lanyon had hardly been able to read the rest with a clear head. His life. His honour. His reason. Did he really still mean that much to him after everything that had happened? So of course, without a doubt in his mind, Lanyon followed the cryptic, quite possibly dangerous instructions detailed.

He so desperately wished he hadn’t.

He had driven straight to Jekyll’s house, despite every ounce of reason screaming at him from his core. He met with Poole, got the drawer and went straight back to Cavendish Square. Even when that strange little man- Mr Hyde- had shown up, he still pushed aside any doubts and focused on the task at hand: saving Jekyll’s life. However that may be. It was all so confusing.

He hadn’t expected Mr Hyde, after promptly taking that potion, to transform into Jekyll. It was horrific. Such horrors he had never seen before. Every time he shut his eyes, all he could see was the way that man’s features had grotesquely contorted, agonisingly slow, into the face that once brought him the most comfort in his life. He felt no comfort then. Just fear. Pure fear, raw and acidic in his stomach. It had scared him half to death. Quite literally. Now look at him. He was laying on his death bed, slowly fading away. Wasted. Lost. Soon he would be gone forever. He had so many regrets. He should have just ran away with Jekyll when he had the chance. Maybe then the man never would have turned to such horrific experiments.

"Jekyll? If you can hear me-" his words sounded so pathetic, so weak, hanging limp in the air of his room.

His answer was silence. Still, he continued.

" I love you."

And just like that, a lantern flickering to darkness, Hastie Lanyon was well and truly a dead man.

[deathofacupid]

successor | p.p.

summary: you realize that you don't want to be like your father; follow in his footsteps. you have a different want, a different need from him. but you find the perfect person to take your spot.

lemme know ur thoughts

okay this one was okay kinda did it while i was supposed to be doing review packets for the midterms

word count: 1.4+ words-ish

it was never anything i'd ever though about. 

fashion was a hobby and that was that. i'd take over my dad's place as ceo, straight out of high school, right after two years of shadowing, end of story. 

no questions, no discussion. and that was fine, right? no biggie. it wasn't like i'd cared.

but, oh, that was then. 

this is now.

midtown is a school for science and engineering, but this year our theme was "openmindedness". every senior year, which was mine this time, different schools from across the world came in to share about their school and provide information. 

now, since this year was all about having an open-mind, they didn't just have stem-ly, ivy league, big brain/smart science schools come.

but they had other things, too. like fine arts. 

including the fashion institute of technology, one of the best. and you know, just for fun, i applied as early action. 

i didn't think i'd get in. but the fact that a staring at bold text that reads "congrats!", i stand corrected. 

like, okay, wow, way to chuck that in my face and send me flying. plot twist in my life that is already enough of a dumpster fire; now i have to re-think my entire future because my heart is doing happy/uneasy flips in my stomach and i can't figure out if this is good or not?

god, i used to be so indecisive. now i don't know. 

i may have contridicted myself here. 

why don't i ever know anything? this is a re-occuring problem. 

over the last year or so, i've been getting more serious about my future. y'know? like, this is happening. i'm adulting. 

i don't want to be adulting. 

because, damn, it's not hot. at all.

...whatsoever.

fashion, for so long, has been the thing that makes me happy. it's been the one constant in my life. i mean, 90% percent of the clothes in my closet were designed by yours truly. 

and a career in that? that sounds like heaven, it's too good to be true. 

but now i have a chance. this is my one-way ticket into this whole thing. 

on the other hand... what would i tell my dad? i'm his only kid. who else would take of the stark thing? i'm supposed to be his successor. 

but on the other, other hand, i don't want to be his successor. i want to be a designer. i can't do that from a fancy desk in a fancy tall buliding with fancy people who carry around fancy briefcases and make words longer by turning things like "because" into "the particular reason for the circumstance". 

oh my word, i'm having a mid-life crisis at 17 years old. 

no, no, no panicking. peter would know what to do. he always knows. 

he's like yoda, but 17 and a spider.

y/n: help 

y/n: i'm gonna die if you don't get here

arachnikid: what's wrong?

arachnikid: babe are you okay??

arachnikid: the dots went away

arachnikid: why did the dots go away???

arachnikid: don't move

arachnikid: oh my god oh my god oh my god

arachnikid: i'm coming i'll be right there

maybe it was sadistic slightly to watch peter panic like that, but part of it was amusing. in less then a minute, my window was pulled up and a huffing spider crawled into the room.

"hi, baby!" i chirped, letting him grab my face and examine me.

"i- you- what's wrong?" he panted.

"i need some of your old man wisdom."

peter was quiet for a moment, "huh?"

"i'm going through a mid-life crisis."

"wait, but- you're 17."

"yeah."

"jeez, you really scared me."

i shrugged, "yep. sorry 'bout that. that's on me."

"uh-huh," he glared at you, flopping down onto my beanbag and tossing his mask aside. 

i paused, trying to figure out how to word this. finally, i settled on; "i don't want to be the ceo."

he was absolutely dumbfounded. and i didn't blame him. what sane person would want to pass this up?

so i tried again, walking over to my laptop. "uh, okay. you know how, like, all those colleges came to our school?"

"... yes?" peter said, not sure where this was going.

"and there was this really awesome fashion one, yeah, babe?"

"...yes? oh- oh my gosh. you wanna...? go there?"

i pulled up the acceptance letter. he gaped, "wow! you- you're in! why didn't you tell me? this is awesome!"

"you aren't mad?"

he furrowed his brows, "no. why?"

"because i'm wasting my life?"

"no, you're doing something you love. and that's worth everything. also, i kinda had a feeling this would happen." he strided over to my closet, pulling it open and gesturing to what was inside of it. 

"do you even realize how good you are? because, angel, lemme tell you, you are amazing at this. it's freaking crazy. and the fact that you tailor most of you dad's suits? that says it all."

i blushed, but my short-lived happiness was quickly replaced by fear. "what about my dad? there's no way-"

"he wants you to be happy. this is your happy. he'd never take that away from you."

"really?"

"of course."

"but... who else would do it, then? i'm his only kid."

peter came over and briefly kissed my lips, "i'm sure he'll find someone."

i grinned; i'd already found one. 

-

i inhaled rather dramatically as i stood in front of the big door. what was i even going to say? 

oh, well, i'll cross that bridge when i get there. 

okay, i'm kind of already at that bridge but it doesn't matter. 

i only knocked once before entering, catching my dad tinkering out of the corner of my eye. 

"heyyyy... dad, i- uh, whatcha working on?"

"hmm? oh, just upgrading this. i was gonna add some-"

"that's really cool. i have to tell you something."

he looked up, squinting at me, "i swear, if peter got you preg-"

"no! no, of course not! god, dad. we use protection, and i'm on the pill."

"wait, you've been having sex?"

"okay, i think we're getting off topic."

"from what?"

"the stark industries. i-"

"oh, yeah, i'm so glad you'll be working with me. like father, like daughter. too good."

"no- what? that's- that's not where i was going with this."

"then what?"

i sucked in a whole lot of air; 

 "igotacceptedintothecollegeofmydreams,well,it'sonlybeenmydreamfor,like,lessthanayear,butwhatever,andiwantotdofashionandnotthisstuff."

"um, slower maybe?"

i drew in a breath, "i don't want to work for the industries. i want to do fashion. and i got into this-"

"what? you don't want to be ceo?"

"yeah," looking down at my shoes, i felt shame creep up my neck. had i said the wrong thing? i should've kept my mouth shut. i just fucked this up.

i glanced up to see him press his lips together, and then lean against the table, folding his arms. my dad sighed, "well, i know that once you've set your mind to something, you're pretty stubborn about it, and i guess that may be on me," he added with a chuckle. "but is this something you're sure you want to do?"

"well, yeah. it's my iron man."

"okay, what?"

"sorry, bad comparison. i just meant that, well, this is what i love to do. it's my everything. you know that, right?"

"i had a feeling." 

"you aren't mad?"

dad came over beside me, pecking my hairline. "'course not. i'm happy. happy that you told me, because now you won't be stuck doing something you don't like your whole life." he then ran a hand through his hair. "so what now? i gotta find someone else then. young, like you, i guess."

"can i help?"

"sure, i mean."

"cool. i picked one."

"already?"

"yeah."

"uh, background search? like all of that?"

"oh, i already know their background."

"yeah? who?"

"you know him. rather well, really."

"i do? jeez, just tell me, peanut."

"peter parker."

-

it was my 5th anniversary of my line, which, by the way, totally took everyone by storm. as far as i knew, everything was going great, and the bright dimond ring on my left hand told me just that. 

stark industries was written off offically to peter, just last year. currently, they were working kind of side-by-side, and that would be until my dad retired. 

i tied the bow on a small-ish white box, smiling to myself. 

in it were two things, yet to be presented to my husband. a positive pregnacy test and a strip of paper that had multiple sonograms on it. 

yeah, i was my dad's favorite girl.

but pete was his successor.

and y'know what?

i couldn't be happier about it.

[rhiannswork]

s. reid!tasm

warnings: blood, lowercase intended (srry lolz), this is literally that one scene from tasm1 with a lil twist, fluffy, you're both seniors in hs, teeeeny tiny angst and umm smoochy smooch.

an: i’m so sorry this is so bad :’(

you were overwhelmed by the workload assigned by your school, having heard that senior year can be both the best and worst year of one's school life. your papers, markers, and other school items were scattered across the floor as you tried to keep up. eventually, you sat in silence, but the sounds around you became overstimulating, leading you to turn everything off in frustration.

despite your efforts, you found yourself still stuck on the same question as before, and the situation wasn't improving. as you struggled to concentrate, you began to hear thudding sounds, which made you question your sanity.

thud, thud, thud.

"the hell?" you exclaimed, looking around to locate the source of the constant thudding. your gaze fell to the ground, revealing the shadow of a person. "spence," you chuckled, recognizing the figure.

you got up from your spot and went to open the window. you couldn't fathom how someone as scrawny as spencer could manage to climb up to the twentieth floor using the fire escape. "hey... spencer?" you called out, feeling a bit confused.

as you looked closer, you noticed that spencer was in an unusual state of disarray. his hair was unkempt, his face was dirty, and most concerning of all, three scars ran down his chest.

"what happened to you?" you asked, feeling a mix of worry and confusion. "— and why are you wearing a spider-man costume?" you added, trying to make sense of the situation.

"i’m just a really big fan," spencer joked as he crawled through the window and tossed his bag to the corner of your room. "are you now?" you giggled, amused by his enthusiastic lie. you slammed the window shut, making sure it was secure.

"we have to do something about this, spence. sit on my bed," you said, pointing to the bed. you watched as spencer slowly made his way over to the bed.

"it doesn't hurt... it'll heal by the morning," spencer muttered before groaning his way onto the bed. “i don’t care. you could still get infected. i’ll be back.” you sped out of your room and ran to your bathroom.

you quickly scanned through your sink cabinet for rubbing alcohol and bandages, finding what you needed before snatching a washcloth from the closet and walking back to your bedroom.

you were taken aback to see that reid had already removed his shirt, preparing himself for the special care that you were about to provide.

"eager, are we?" you teased, walking over to the edge of the bed and placing the materials beside spencer. "i just don't want it to burn," he shook his head. "just don't focus on it. focus on me," you smiled.

you snatched the bottle of rubbing alcohol, opened the bottle and began to pour the liquid on the towel. “alright, look at me,” you slowly crept the towel towards his wounds. “wait! you’re not supposed to put rubbing alcohol on a wound, it damages the tissue.” you ignored his protest and put the towel on the small scratch first.

spencer quickly sucked air through the cracks of his teeth, clearly struggling to keep his mind off the burns. "i-i don't know. i didn't know how to tell you," he admitted, looking down at your hands. sensing his unease, your other hand reached over to lift his chin and bring his head back up. "did you want me to find out?" you asked, your eyes locking with his.

“i don’t know…” you could see his once pale cheeks become rosy. “mm… considering i’m your girlfriend, don’t you think i should know?” you continued to disinfect his scars. “i didn’t want you to get hurt.”

"you were hurting me either way. you've cancelled every date in the past month, spencer," you said firmly, as you reached for the water bottle that sat on your bed. opening it up, you poured water onto the towel and began to dab at his wounds, hoping to remove any debris from the open scars.

"i'll make it up to you," spencer said, his eyes glistening in the moonlight that streamed through your window. "i bet you will~” you hummed, a smile playing at your lips as you finished cleansing his wounds.

"who did this to you? or what did this to you?" you asked, folding the slightly bloody towel and placing it on the nightstand near your bed. "a giant lizard... that happens to be your boss at oscorp," spencer replied nonchalantly.

as you twisted the neosporin cap, you froze upon hearing spencer's answer. your head slowly turned up to meet his eyes. "i'm not... i'm not gonna ask," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. you then proceeded to apply the ointment around the gashes.

"sit up so i can wrap this around your body," you instructed as you pulled spencer's arm to raise him off the headboard. you then got off the bed, along with spencer, and grabbed the bandage wrap.

as you pulled the end of the adhesive bandage and began to wrap it around spencer's torso, you couldn't help but tease him, "i guess when you become spider-man, you get bulkier, huh?" you giggled as your arms wrapped around him, passing the roll into your other hand.

“i’ve been swinging everywhere, i guess that’s a form of working out.” he chuckled. after carefully wrapping his body, you quickly grabbed the loose end of the bandage roll and securely tucked it under a layer of bandage.

"i guess, i'll see you tomorrow," you smiled, gazing into his gentle, dilated brown eyes. "i can't stay?" he pouted. "absolutely not! my dad would lose it if he found you in my room," you replied firmly. picking up an oversized mötley crüe shirt from the floor, you tossed it to reid. "i think i could handle that," he said, grinning.

"we're not gonna test that theory. seriously, it's really late and you need to rest, so swing home and go to bed." you pushed him closer to the window. "you want me to swing home? when i need to rest?" he giggled as he grabbed his backpack. "you can handle it." you teased. "my arms are soooo soreeee." he pulled the t-shirt over his body and threw his bookbag over his shoulder.

his poked-out lip had almost made you regret kicking him out, the way his eyelids hung low. before you knew it, the space between you and spencer was becoming smaller. your breath hitched before your lips connected.

his lips were in harmony as your lips met like a missing puzzle piece finally found. your kisses danced in perfect rhythm as if they were made for each other. your mind was lost in a fog of thoughts, overcome by the attentiveness of the moment.

he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as the feeling lingered. you tucked your lips in as a soft moan left them.

"goodnight bug boy."