#Superhero x thief | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trash-writer-kenzie · 2 years

Text

It's Dark(Baby You Can See me Anyway)

Oceano and Saggio have been working against each other for over a decade, but Oceano is Percy and Saggio is Annabeth, and Percy and Annabeth are married.

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase (Explicit)

He slipped through the shadows, back pressed against the brick wall. In hindsight, he really was asking to be pinned against it.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here tonight,” her strong voice rang through the night.

He looked up, eyes widening as his gaze landed on the woman who made his life both miserable and wonderful.

“Saggio, how wonderful to see you again.” He called out, stepping into the light.

“You as well, Oceano.” Saggio jumped down from the balcony on which she stood, landing a few feet away from him. “I beat you here tonight,” she flaunted the silver diadem. It gleamed in the moonlight, and Oceano couldn't help but fantasize the diadem circling her golden hair while she—

Stop.

He ridiculed himself, taking a deep breath. He had a wife whom he loved very much. “It's a shame I'll have to take it from you.”

Oceano took a step forward, Saggio did the same. She twirled the diadem around her fingers, smirking. “I do love these games we play. My husband wouldn't think the same, though.”

“You're married?” He asked, drawing his gun.

“He's a lovely man,” she pulled a thin dagger from her waistband, “rather dense, but good. Can't say the same for my daughter. She figured me out long ago.”

“And you trust her?” Oceano swapped his gun for a dagger thicker than his opponent's. He didn't really want to hurt her.

“With my heart and soul,” Saggio’s voice softened before she dove at him, taking him by surprise and pinning him to the wall. “You've gotten slow, old man.”

“I'm not old, goddamn.” He grit his teeth, struggling against her hold. She didn't relent, instead bringing her dagger against his throat. “You wouldn't.”

“Maybe not,” she dug a little deeper, but not deep enough to make a cut.

“It makes for excellent foreplay though,” Oceano grinned, catching Saggio off guard. He didn't miss her soft gasp or the way she bit the inside of her lower lip. He used the opportunity to duck out from her clutches, snatching the diadem and jumping off the platform on which they stood.

“Fuck you!” She called, frustrated.

“You'll have to catch me first,” he called back, grinning over his shoulder.

—

Oceano crawled up the fire escape through the window of his condo, first making sure his wife was asleep before changing out of his disguise and taking out his contacts. He looked in the mirror, running his hand through his black hair. Checking his body for cuts, he noticed a thin line running across his neck.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rummaging through his bag to find a bottle of concealer to cover the wound.

As he applied the makeup, he noticed a glint of silver in his hair. Narrowing his eyes, he discovered…a grey hair. He let out a groan, taking out his contacts and replacing them with his gold-rimmed glasses.

“What's wrong?” His wife asked, sleepily wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I'm going grey, Beth. I'm only thirty-five!”

She snorted, yawning. Her curly hair fell over his shoulder as she massaged his scalp. “It's only one hair, Percy.”

“And soon it will be two,” he spun around, kissing his wife lightly. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she smiled, toying with the waistband of his joggers. “I missed you today.”

“Why don't you do something about it then?” Percy grinned against his wife's lips, lifting her night shirt over her head.

—

The next morning, as Percy made breakfast for his daughter, he noticed her reading an article from the newspaper.

“What are you reading, honeybee?” He asked as he set a plate of pancakes in front of her.

“The page on the supers. Oceano stole the diadem from Saggio and returned it to the museum. Apparently Saggio was hired anonymously to steal it and bring it back to Spain.”

Percy sighed, forcing a smile onto his face. “If Spain wants their diadem back, then they should inform the US instead of hiring someone to steal it.” He turned back to his pancakes, grinning as Alexandra groaned.

“It’s so much cooler to have someone go on a mission, though.”

“Besides,” Annabeth kissed her husband quickly, plucking a pancake off the plate. “The government doesn't do anything to help the issue; it's up to the agencies to get anything done regarding international affairs.”

“I know that, I just don't like how people are constantly stealing from other countries to get their shit back.” Percy wrinkled his nose, flipping the last of the pancakes.

“If you had it your way, you'd have supers abolished.” Alexandra said through a mouthful.

“I'd have Castellan’s agency abolished.” Percy said grumpily. “He's an ass at every dinner we go to.”

“Stop swearing in front of our eleven-year-old,” Annabeth ridiculed him.

“Sorry, love.”

Percy's watch beeped obnoxiously, soon followed by Annabeth's.

“I've got to run, I’ll see you tonight,” Annabeth kissed her husband and daughter, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and dashing out the door.

Percy gave Alexandra a quick hug. “Duty calls. Don't cause any trouble in school today.”

“I won't!”

—

“I wasn't expecting you to act again so soon,” Percy called out, now disguised as Oceano. He wore an all-black suit, a bullet vest under, a beanie covering his mop of black(and a single grey) hair. His blue contacts itched his eyes, making every blink painful. A black phantom-of-the-opera-style mask covered half of his facial features.

“Your eyes are too recognizable, too unique. You’ll need to cover them.” Chiron told him, handing him a container of colored contacts.

Saggio sat on the edge of a building roof at least twenty stories high. Her usual silk black button-up was replaced with white tucked into her high waisted leather pants.

“I’m on watch. I take it you've been called to spy on me?” She asked bitterly.

“You've got it.” Oceano sat next to her, a good foot between them.

“You aren't doing a great job of spying.”

“I'm not,” he agreed quietly.

Together, they watched as the sun rose over the city. The light reflected off Saggio's mask. Her mask only covered the area around her eyes, a fact he was grateful for. She seemed to glow in the morning light. She was gorgeous at night, but mornings were when she seemed to come alive.

“You're staring.” Saggio teased.

“I'm thinking about how easy it would be to push you off the edge.” He lied.

“Then do it,” she challenged.

“Not today,” he smiled at her. Rather than bristling as he'd expected, she smiled back.

In the time they'd been gazing over the city, they'd closed the space between them, now sitting shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

As they stared at each other, Oceano found himself wanting to not be in rival agencies, just for a moment. He wished they could be normal people.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked.

Saggio's soft sunlit smile turned into a smirk, just asking for trouble. “That's a dangerous question, Oceano.”

“Try me.” He challenged.

She narrowed her eyes, gaze falling down to his lips for a split second. “Do I make you nervous?”

Oceano leaned forward, just slightly, smirking. “Never in your wildest dreams.” He lied.

“You seem quite confident about that.”

“Because it's true.”

“I don't think so, Nemico.”

“What makes you say that?” His voice was hardly above a whisper, their faces not even an inch apart.

She never responded, rather crashing her lips to his. He gasped, his hand finding the small of her back and pulling her as close as their protective gear would allow. She bit his lower lip, drawing a faint taste of iron. One of her hands traveled below his waist, palming his cock. He gasped into her mouth again.

“Fuck, you’re sensitive,” Saggio teased. They scrambled away from the view of the road, and she slammed his back against a brick wall. Oceano felt his suit trousers grow uncomfortably tight as Saggio ground her hips into his own. She kissed a line down his neck, biting harder each time.

Oceano clumsily undid the buttons to Saggio's silk shirt, bending her lacy bra cup down and rolling her nipple with his forefinger and thumb.

Her kisses stuttered as she let out a quiet whine. He used her pause to flip them around. He began to undo the buttons of her trousers, looking up at her for consent.

“Hurry up,” she demanded, breathless.

Oceano continued, ripping her pants down her muscular legs. He pushed her panties aside(matching her bra), wasting no time in stretching her apart with one finger, rapidly adding another.

“You're so wet for me. Have you been thinking about this all morning? About how I'll pull you apart?”

Saggio cried out, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

“Uh-uh.” Oceano smirked up at her. “Eyes on mine.”

She nodded, grabbing onto the hair that had slipped from his beanie. He took her apart at a bruising pace. He pressed his thumb over her clit, and she fell apart, sobbing with relief.

Saggio pulled her rival up by the collar, meeting his lips tiredly. “Get the fuck inside me,” she demanded, unzipping his pants, lining his cock up with her entrance.

“Demanding, are we?”

“Shut up,” she grunted as Oceano lifted her up, her legs wrapping around her waist. She sank onto his length, breath stuttering. The noises she made as he slammed into her made him want to say fuck the agencies and rip off their masks.

He didn't, though.

—

Afterwards as they straightened themselves out, Oceano swallowed hard, looking at his rival. “That can't happen again.”

“I know,” Saggio said. She refused to look at him.

“Hey, look at me,” he tilted her chin upwards so they could look at each other. “I still hate you, don't worry.”

She laughed softly, eyes sad. “Okay.”

“Don't steal anything,” he called as he strolled away, hands in his pockets.

Saggio didn't reply.

—

Percy walked through the door of his apartment, shoving his mask in his bag and tossing his blazer on the back of a nearby chair. As he was taking off his CHB cufflinks, his daughter rolled down the hall with her heelys.

“What did your mother tell you about using those inside?” He asked tiredly.

“What’s your pin say?” She ignored him, squinting at the pin on his blazer.

Percy's eyes widened as he dove for the blazer, but Alexandra got to it first. She held up the pin, frowning. “Does Mom know?” His Oceano logo glinted in the light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“No, and you need to promise to never tell anyone.” He held out his pinky.

She took his with her own, shaking as a promise.

“You need to be more careful.” Alexandra warned.

“I know, honeybee.” Percy kissed his daughter's forehead. “Do you have any homework?”

“Already did it,” she smiled, circling around him. “Can I have ice cream?”

“Go ahead,” Percy took the pin off his blazer, tenderly placing it in his pocket.

Shortly after getting changed, Annabeth arrived home, looking flushed.

“Are you alright?” Percy asked, feeling her forehead for fever.

“I'm fine,” her smile didn't reach her eyes. “How was work?”

“Uneventful,” he frowned, pushing the day's events from his mind.

Annabeth curled into his side. “Same.”

Alexandra looked up from the newspaper, wrinkling her nose. “Agency rivalries suck. Why can't they work together?”

“We're still talking about this?” Annabeth opened her eyes reluctantly.

“It's an important issue! Castellan and CHB could accomplish so much if they teamed up!” she slammed down the newspaper, stalking out of the room.

“What does CHB stand for?” Annabeth asked.

“Fuck if I know,” Percy grunted.

—

“We should go out tonight,” Annabeth suggested some weeks later.

“I would love too,” Percy kissed his wife, nuzzling the groove between her breasts.

“But?”

“But I've got that masquerade gala for work, and you've got one too.”

The annual autumnal masquerade, the one night each year where Castellan and CHB were together for a night, pretending to get along while negotiating terms and boundaries. This reminded him of Saggio. He hadn't seen her in weeks; it's the most inactive she's been since she was pregnant over a decade ago.

He's worried about her.

“Right,” Annabeth frowned. “Oh, you’re going to love my dress.”

“Can I see it before you leave?”

“Of course,” she kissed him a little harder than normal. “But only if you promise to properly ravish me in it later.” Annabeth winked before turning, leaving Percy stunned.

“Fuck you, you can't just leave!” he whined.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” she teased, her hips swaying. Percy was truly stunned. He remembered saying something similar to Saggio nearly a month ago.

Shaking it off, he followed Annabeth into their bedroom to change for the masquerade. The theme was tacky, in his mind. A bunch of supers from different agencies who were already disguised, why not add another layer?

He gently took his suit out of its bag, slipping his Oceano pin and CHB cufflinks into the pocket. As he changed, he combed his hair back, letting it swoop to the side.

He straightened his jacket and slipped his mask into the large pocket on the inside of his long blazer. A silver chain hung from his belt loops, glinting when he turned.

Annabeth peeked in from the dressing room, curling iron in hand. “Can you help me with my hair?”

“Of course,” he smiled, taking the silver clips she handed him. “What do you need me to do?”

“Take some hair on your left and gel it back a bit, then put the clips in.” She explained as she curled her hair.

“No problem,” he kissed her softly, complying to her instructions. Four years of being a cosmetologist really paid off.

“You look very handsome,” Annabeth grinned at her husband through the mirror. Percy blushed, focusing on her hair.

“I can't wait to see your dress,” he kissed her cheek once he was done. “I'm going to be thinking about you all night.”

“Mm…it will be worth it,” she said. “Alex will be with your mom all night.”

“Good,” Percy whispered, running his hands over her hips. He found the slit in her silk robe, fingers teasing the waistband of her panties.

“Stop,” she gently pushed his hand away. “Later.”

“Fine,” Percy pouted, settling for watching her get reading. After what seemed like an eternity, she rose from her stool and opened her closet.

Percy watched as she slipped into her black gown. The tulle sleeves nearly covered her hands, the sweetheart neckline dipping down her chest. There was a slit that rose to her mid-thigh, making Percy want to pin her to the wall then and there.

“Zip me up?” She asked.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” He whispered in her ear. “I can't wait to have my way with you.”

“Let's see how that works for you. I might have to tie you up if you don't cooperate.”

“What a sight that would be,” he kissed Annabeth's neck softly. “You in your dress, riding me, chasing your pleasure, your pretty mouth on mine.”

Annabeth shivered underneath him.

“You both look wonderful,” Sally called from behind them.

Percy jumped, startled like a teenage boy. “Mom! Hi!”

“Hi, Sweethearts,” she kissed her son and daughter-in-law on the cheek. “Aren’t you going to separate parties?”

“Afraid so,” Percy pouted his lower lip.

“The theme looks rather similar.” Sally commented.

“I think the firm is replicating the Autumnal Agency Gala. It's tacky.” Annabeth rolled her eyes.

“Tell me about it. And on the same night.” Percy wrinkled his nose.

“Regardless, I'm sure you’ll have fun,” Sally smiled mischievously. “Don't worry about Alex, I’ll take her home with me for the night.”

“Thanks again, Mom.” The three adults left the dressing room.

“Mom, you look great.” Alexandra grinned from the couch. “Maybe someday I'll have boobs like yours so I can wear dresses like that.”

Percy laughed quietly, leaning against the wall.

“You can pull off any dress, no matter your boob size.” Annabeth kissed the crown of her daughter's head. “I love you. Be good for Nana.”

“I love you too, Mom.” She smiled.

“Love you, Honeybee,” Percy ruffled her hair. “Have fun.”

“Love you,” she stuck her tongue out at her father, and he repeated the gesture.

“You get ‘I love you’, and she sticks her tongue out at me.” Percy grumbled, pulling on his black leather gloves.

“You’ll live through it, I’m sure.”

—

Percy, now in his alter-ego as Oceano, sipped on a glass of champagne, watching the dance floor in front of him. Masked supers from each firm swirled around the floor, mingling with each other and pretending to be polite. He’s noticed at least three couples sneak off.

“Oceano?” A familiar person sat next to him.

“Saggio. Haven't seen you in a while.” He replied, refusing to look at her. He knew if he looked at her, he wouldn't be able to contain himself.

“Sure,” she said, almost breathlessly.

“Are you alr—” he cut himself short as he took in the view of Saggio. Her tulle sleeves nearly covered her hands, her sweetheart neckline plunging down her chest, the A-line gown with a slit to her mid-thigh. The hair he’d help her do.

Saggio—rather, his wife—took his wrist and yanked him to an empty conference room. She locked the door, drawing all the blinds as he stood there, helpless and confused. She ripped off her mask, revealing the all-too-familiar face of his wife.

“Annabeth?” Was all that came out of his mouth. He pulled off his own mask, setting it gently on the table.

“I can't believe you,” Annabeth took a step towards him, drawing a knife from the strap under her dress. “You shamelessly fucked me after you cheated on me!”

Percy backed away. “Put the knife down, Babe.”

“You didn't even know it was me!” She cried.

Percy felt a deep rage simmer inside him. “You can't push all the blame to me, Annabeth. You cheated too.”

“And I tore myself apart over it! Why do you think I wasn't active the past few weeks?” She yelled, still grasping the knife with a trembling hand. Her knuckles turned white with how hard she clinched it.

“Put the knife down, Annabeth,” he repeated, louder this time.

“Why should I?” Tears streamed down her face. “Did you even care? What if it hadn't been me? What then?”

“I was attracted to your super form because it's you.” Percy gently took her hand that held the knife and kissed each knuckle. “I love you, Beth. Please give me the knife.” He looked up at his wife, swiping away her tears. Slowly, she let go, and the knife clattered to the ground.

Annabeth crumpled into her husband's arms, too deflated to cry. Percy held her, letting her be angry. He let her be angry enough for both of them, simply because he didn't know how to feel. He didn't know whether he should be relieved or pissed or mourning.

After a good half-hour of silence, Annabeth lifted her head to look at Percy. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so angry.”

“It's alright,” he said, brushing a flyaway from her face.

Annabeth pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his lips, pulling on the lapels of his jacket. Percy leaned against the door, kissing her back sloppily. She climbed into Percy's lap, not breaking their kiss. Her dress billowed out around them. Percy found the slit in her skirt and parted the sea of fabric, giving him access. He pulled aside her panties, getting a sense of deja Vu.

“Does fighting turn you on?” Percy asked gruffly, swiping at her clit.

“A fuck ton,” Annabeth gasped. Her head was buried in Percy's shoulder as he fucked her with his fingers.

“Now what did we talk about?” He lifted her chin, elongating her neck. “I want you to watch me when I fuck you. I want you to see what you do to me.”

She nodded frantically as she ground down on his palm.

“Mmm-fuck.” She cried out as she came, gasping for air. Percy caught her in another open-mouth kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, messy as Percy struggled to undo his trousers.

Finally freeing himself, Annabeth rose on her knees, still recovering from her orgasm. She pinned her husband's hands above his head, teasing his tip at her entrance.

“Please,” he begged, pupils blown wide with arousal.

Annabeth slammed down onto him, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through his veins.

She rode him like her life depended on it(maybe it did), until her thighs burned and sweat beaded at her brow.

They lay against the door, breathless and panting. Percy held his wife close, kissing her shoulder. “If you want a divorce, I understand.”

“What?” She asked, shocked. She held Percy's face in her hands, missing the glow of his natural eyes. “Never. I love you, I'm not going to divorce you, unless you think we need to.”

“I would rather sit naked on a hot grill than divorce you, my love.”

—

Percy lay in their bed that night, waiting for Annabeth to finish brushing her teeth. He heard the faucet turn on and off, then her bare feet padding across the room and climbing into bed with him. He rolled over to face her, taking in her golden blonde curls and moonlit eyes.

“I'm going to quit,” he whispered.

“Quit what?” Annabeth asked, confused.

“CHB. One of us would have to anyway, and you love your job too much. I can't take that away from you.”

“Absolutely not,” Annabeth sat up, a deep frown lining her lips. “You said your boss—Chiron—was like a father to you! You can't quit.”

“Then what are we going to do? Knowing we fight each other nearly nightly would kill me. I'm already pissed at how much I've fucked up your ankle.”

“My ankle is fine. I can transfer to CHB. I've been looking for a chance to leave Castellan for years, this is the perfect opportunity.”

Percy raised his eyebrow. “You have been very vocal on how much you disagree with CHB’s morals.”

“Not as much as I hate Castellan. He’s fucked me over way too many times.” She stroked her husband's soft, wavy hair. “Imagine us going on missions together. We could kick ass.”

“We could,” Percy smiled. “I'll talk to Chiron tomorrow and ask if it's possible.”

“Alright,” Annabeth lay down, wrapping her arms around Percy’s torso. “I never did get to tie you up.”

He snorted, hiding his blush on her shoulder. “No, you fucked me against a door.”

“I want a round two,” Annabeth smirked.

Sighing dramatically, he rolled on top of his wife. “If you insist.”

—

“How did the Gala go?” Alexandra asked the next morning.

Percy glared over his coffee at her. “I've got know idea what you're talking about, Honeybee.”

“Please, it's not like she doesn't already know,” Annabeth poured herself a cup of tea.

“She knew?” He asked, bewildered. He then looked at his daughter, who was smiling. “You knew about both of us and couldn't be bothered to tell us?”

“You made me promise not to tell,” she shrugged.

“You suck,” Percy slumped in his chair. His watch beeped angrily, signaling he was needed at the agency. “It’s fucking Saturday.” He got up, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“See you in a bit!” He called over his shoulder, laughing to himself.

—

Percy had been waiting for at least six hours. If he had to crouch like this for another minute he was going to scream.

Really, how long could it possibly take his wife to steal something?

“Has she come through yet?” Chiron's voice echoed through his smart watch.

“Nope. She's taking her sweet ass time with this one.”

“Great. If you catch her, bring her to me. I want to speak with the woman.”

“Got it,” Percy sighed, cracking his wrists. “I'll let you know when I'm on my way back.”

“Good luck.” Chiron ended their call, and Percy finally gave into his knees, standing up.

“Boo.” A knife was pressed against his throat.

“Very funny, Babe.” He pulled out his own dagger. “How long have you been here?”

“Just long enough to hear your call with Chiron.” she brought her knife down, dragging trails along his neck.

“And what did you think about that?” he swallowed thickly.

Ignoring his question, she stepped over his shoulder and straddled him. Percy inhaled sharply, causing Annabeth's knife to nick him.

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “I didn't steal anything today, not for Castellan, at least. More like from him.” she held up a scroll, twirling it in her long fingers. “These are his plans for the next six months.”

“Goddamn you're brilliant,” Percy said quietly, awe in his voice.

“I know,” she pulled her knife away and stood, holding out her hand for him. “Better turn me in before I change my mind.”

—

“Lovely to see you again, Chiron,” Annabeth, still disguised as Saggio, sat in one of the chairs across from Chiron Brunner's desk, Percy in the other. He'd taken his mask off, much to the displeasure of Chiron.

“You as well, Saggio. I suppose I should be calling you Miss Chase now, though.” Chiron took the scroll from her, turning it over in his hands.

Annabeth lifted her mask over her head, handing it to her husband. “It's Mrs Jackson, actually.”

Percy toyed with the mask in his fingers, smiling at the floor. “Why am I here?”

“Patience,” Chiron waved him off, turning back to Annabeth. “Now Mrs…Jackson. You've expressed interest in joining our agency, have you not?”

“I have. Castellan has been letting his agency run into the ground the last few years, I felt it was best if I sought out other opportunities.” Her knee bounced up and down restlessly.

“I'd like to offer you a position here. Since you and…Mr Jackson…have known of each other for so long, he seems the best fit for your partner.”

“Okay,” Annabeth shrugged, unable to contain her smirk. “When can I start?”

“Come in tomorrow and we can get you signed with the agency.”

“See you tomorrow, then.” Annabeth stood from her chair, giving her husband a quick peck on the lips and strolling out the door.

“Care to explain?” Chiron asked, looking equal parts shocked and amused.

“You just met my wife,” Percy smiled, reclining in his chair. “We’ve been married for twelve years and only found out about our alter-egos last night at the gala.”

“I thought I saw you two sneak off.”

He blushed, laughing darkly. “She was pretty angry.”

“And you weren't?”

“I’m still not sure how I feel about it, but I think I’m relieved.” Percy stood, straightening his expensive suit. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

—

“So you just sit here waiting for shit to happen all day?” Annabeth asked as she crouched beside Percy.

“Pretty much. I heard our new target moves fast though, so we won't have to wait long.”

“Their name?”

“Ombra. He specializes in thievery and mainly uses a gun. It's too bad, really. I love hand-to-hand combat.”

“You liked it because you thought I was hot.”

“I won't deny it,” Percy grinned.

Annabeth tapped his shoulder quickly, pointing at an alley below them. A tall man stood in the shadows(ironic, seeing as his name translates to shadow), gun at the ready. She pulled out her own, aiming for a few feet beside the man. She pulled the trigger, but when the couple looked back, he was gone.

“Shooting me is a bad idea,” came a voice from behind them.

Percy spun around, pulling out his dagger on instinct. “You're fast. You could be the cameraman at a track meet.”

Annabeth elbowed him harshly, holding out her gun. “Ombra, is it?”

“Afraid so,” Ombra scowled. “I've heard a lot about you two.” He danced around them, slipping in and out of the shadows. He appeared behind Percy, pressing his gun to the small of his back. “There were reports of a couple supers getting intimate on a roof downtown. It's a shame, Oceano. I was about to go after you myself.”

Annabeth stood behind Ombra, grinning like a maniac. “Sorry,” she slit a thin gash in his shoulder, using the distraction to pull the expensive amulet out of their opponent's pocket, “he's taken.” She shot her gun, the bullet just grazing the edge of his foot.

Percy spun around, pulling a raw diamond out of Ombra’s jacket pocket. “Damn, who would even request a steal like this?”

“It's for Spain,” Ombra grunted.

“Of course. Always Spain,” Percy rolled his eyes and adjusted his mask before pulling his wife through the shadows.

—

“He was totally flirting with you,” Annabeth said as Percy hovered above her in bed.

“I know,” he kissed the corner of her mouth. “It was cute. I don't think he even works with Castellan. He doesn't have a set organization, just jumps around a bit.”

“I don't blame him. Most agencies and organizations have one or two fucked up morals that break the deal.” She combed her fingers through her hair, messy from sex and sleep.

“Yeah?” Percy asked, frowning. “What is a deal breaker for CHB?”

“I'm not a fan of their methods of seeking out enemies, but it's worth it. Because you're there.”

“How sweet,” Percy kissed Annabeth’s collarbone this time. “I'm looking forward to going into combat with him. He really needs a few good nemesis to guide him.”

Annabeth snorted into her pillow, pushing Percy off her chest. “You are so arrogant.”

“You love me though.”

“Sadly.”

#may or may not be a part two #annabeth chase #percy jackson #percabeth fanfic #percabeth #sally jackson #percababies #percy and annabeth #hero x villain but they both think they are the hero #actually they are married #super hero au #more of a spy x thief au #spy vs spy #superheros #without powers #they lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship

11 notes · View notes

disordersgirl · 1 year

Text

spideycat solos batcat any day sorry . . .

#in terms of superhero x cat themed thief spideycat wins every single day

3 notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 2 months

Text

Here, Kitty Kitty

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is your world's Black Cat. A/N: me when there's no fanfic of miguel as black cat: fine, ill do it myself Art: Marbipa on twt

Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little suggestive but that's it, Word Count: 2,535

Swinging on your webs, you hopped from building to building and made sure to to keep an eye out for any more crime during your patrol. You hoped that tonight would be a breeze but unfortunately, the life of a superhero will never rest. You landed by one of the police antennas and heard a call coming through their radios. Tilting your head, you focused on the frequencies to get a better signal. "All units be advised. We've got a call for a robbery in Lower Manhattan. Heading there now, requesting backup." You glanced up at the sky seeing the moon illuminate brightly. "I guess I could help the boys in blue." You shrug and thwip your web shooters, the silk spinning and sticking to another building before jumping off to gain momentum. You hauled yourself up after swinging, diving down between apartments and just barely slipping through a couple fire exits. You thought about who it might be this time. Maybe it was the Shocker again. Oh, he was always so easy to make fun of. No, that wasn't possible: you put him in prison. You just hoped it wasn't another one of Tombstone's men--they were always a little too cocky. Maybe just a couple of randoms trying to make extra cash the wrong way–a boring way to end the night but at least it'd be easy. You swung faster after hearing the sirens of police cars echoing throughout the night of New York. You saw a few police cars behind you and you giggled to yourself, playing a one sided game of who would get there faster. Always the competitive one you were, you stuck your webs onto two poles and pulled back so hard that they bent slightly. Your forearms burned until you let go, slingshotting yourself in the sky and allowing yourself to glide above the city. You wished to take off your mask and feel the breeze properly but you settled for the ripples flapping on your suit. "Robbery, robbery, robbery..." You murmured, swiveling your head around to see where the robbery could've been. You blinked as you spotted the familiar colors of blue and red flashing in the distance. "Robbery!" You grinned.

Zipping through the wind, you landed above what you now see is a jewelry store. You crawl into the shadows, making sure none of the policemen could see you. "Hm. I guess they win this time." You mutter to yourself about your little game. Perching on the ledge, you listened in on their conversation. "Any security footage?" One policewoman asks. "We're checking them now but so far after entering the perimeter, all cameras have been damaged." "Did you see what was stolen?" "A few rings and bracelets. But the owner is more concerned with a diamond necklace. Says it was going to be auctioned off later this weekend." You tilt your head in thought. And they got away? Definitely not some regular citizens. You began to feel a headache creep on you. You couldn't handle another big bad to fight this weekend. You stepped down from the ledge carefully and walked around the top of the building to find a vent. Once you did, you ripped it open and crawled inside, your body sticking to the ceiling. You looked around and saw various cases filled with glittering jewels, ranging in size and colors. You crawled through another room and hopped off the ceiling with a small thud. Looking behind you, you made sure no one had seen you and you began rummaging through the room to find any evidence lying around to catch the perpetrator.

You found yourself in front of the glowing case in the middle. You circled around it, the eyes of your mask squinting at the empty sloth that would've fit a giant diamond necklace inside. The glass was perfectly intact instead of ruthlessly shattered. This was no common thief. No fingerprints, everything was spotless and clean. You took a closer look. "Looking for this, arañita?" You hear a smooth voice behind you. You spin around, shooting your webs to trap the wrist of the stranger behind you to the wall. The familiar tall man you've had a complicated relationship with, Miguel O'Hara a.k.a. Black Cat. His skin tight black suit hugged his built body, white fur fluffed at his forearms and around his shoulders. His suit was opened at his chest, a long slit that gave everyone a nice view of his tanned skin littered with little black and graying hairs. His dark brown eyes were decorated with a thin diamond shaped mask that did little to hide his ‘secret identity’. His dark brown hair was in its usual slick back, gray strands curling in his locks and a pretty black collar around his neck. He tilted his head at you and lifted his other hand to cut your webs off him with an extracted claw. “Eso es como se trata un amigo? I thought your whole thing was being friendly, arañita.” Miguel says light-heartedly, unphased at the way your mask narrowed at him. You noticed that the hand you had webbed up was holding onto a pouch. Miguel slips open the pouch by its strings, lifting out the diamond necklace. He clips it around his neck and it shines in the moonlight that seeps through the ceiling window. He admires his reflection in the cases, his gloved hand caresses the jewels, his nail being gentle with grazing over it. “Isn’t she just a beauty? She’s not my style, personally, but I can appreciate her.�� His eyes meet yours and he grins. “I think you would make it look even more beautiful.” You ignore his blatant flirting, your hands itching at your sides, wanting to snatch the pouch from him and return it to the police so the owner could have a good night’s rest–so you could have a good night’s rest. Now knowing the one behind this was Black Cat, your headache had gotten worse and you knew it’d be a long night. Miguel stalks up to you after taking the necklace off and placing it back in his pouch.

“What’s wrong, arañita? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, his claw grazing under your chin and making you look up at him. You bit down on your tongue. This cat always had a way of pissing you off. “I thought we agreed you’d put this behind you. You’re rich. What more could you possibly want?” You grab his wrist and take his hand off from your chin. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted your attention?” His lips curl up, showing off his fangs. “No.” “Ouch. I’m hurt. I thought we had something.” His smile doesn't falter. “Give back the jewels, Miguel.” ‘Hmm. No. These could go for a lot of money. Way more than whatever that auction it is they’re doing.”

“Miguel, you promised me you would be good.”

His eyes soften for a split second. The memory of your last encounter months ago where you two had spent the night together in the city up on the Empire State building. Your relationship was a confusing one. There had been nights where you were on opposite sides and other nights where he answered your call for help.

Miguel began to trust you. Despite his tendencies to slip between your fingers, you always spoke to him kindly when he wasn’t pushing your buttons–even then he knew you never harbored any actual hatred for him. So after a long night, he confided in you that this was his new life and it wouldn’t change–he’d always come back to a life of crime, it’s who he was. You believed he was better than that.

That night before he disappeared for months, he pulled up your mask just enough to see your lips and he kissed you, leaving with a promise to do better. But cats were known to do whatever they wanted. “You know I’m not good like you, arañita.” His smile turns melancholy. “But you could be.” You insisted. “Give me the pouch.” “I can’t do that, amor.”

You huffed through your nose, jaw clenching, and you tried to snatch the bag from his hand as quickly as you could. Miguel was faster, his clawed hand grabbing you and forcing you to bend over the glass display of jewelry with your arm behind your back.

You grunted when your cheek met the hard glass and attempted to worm your way out of his hold. You feel Miguel lean over your body, his warm breath whispering next to your ear.

“I've thought about you like this. Maybe with a little less clothing.” He teases and chuckles when you stiffen.

“Miguel.” You warn lowly.

“It's been nice seeing you again, arañita, but I've got to run.” You hear a dull clanking sound along with a small whizz.

You felt rope like strings wrap around your body and arms and suction themselves to the glass he slammed you on, trapping you.

Shit.

You crane your head as much as you could to see Miguel take a step back away from you. Just for shits and giggles, he plucks a pair of earrings from a stand and places it inside his bag before raising his hand up at the ceiling window.

Miguel gives you a wink and a charming smile and his grappling hook zips out from his wrist, denting itself in the wall. It pulls him up and he pops the window open, successfully escaping without leaving a trace.

You groan and knock your forehead on the cold glass. With your strength, you pop the rope off you, stretching your arm and wrist out.

Police began to enter inside the building, their commotion and their comms going off and getting closer to you.

Collecting the ropes, you webbed yourself out through the same window Miguel used and closed it behind you. You tossed the ropes away and began swinging around, trying to sense any trace of Miguel.

“Dammit, kitty.” You mutter under your breath. You ignored the way your heart pounded as you scanned every nearby corner. The sight of him after so long sent flutters in your stomach. You ignored the lingering hot touch of his fingers around you, the weight of his body towering over yours. His hips that gently bucked up against–

You tumbled on the roof of a brick building. This was not how you wanted your night to go. You let out deep breaths, your arms and legs spread out as you lay on your back.

After a couple of minutes, you sat up. You ripped your mask off and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You felt a turmoil of emotions.

When Miguel had kissed you that night, it broke your heart. He felt so sure of himself to give you affection but at the cost of his disappearance right after. It hurt but you thought if he could turn his life around for the better, it'd be worth all the heartbreak and what ifs.

You stood up and placed your mask back on your head, your arm raising up to shoot a web when your spider senses alerted you of someone.

You turn around to see Miguel, half of his body in the shadows.

“I don't have the pouch so don't shoot.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender.

“Didn't you say you needed to run?” Your voice spits and Miguel nods.

“I also said it was nice to see you again.” He walks up to you, his hands gently placing themselves on your hips. You stand tall, not wanting him to know his effect on you. “So forgive me, I'm a little selfish. I wanted to see you one more time.”

“Why are you back?” You mumble. Why are you back in New York?

“I'm sorry, corazón. You know me. It's what I do.”

“So you lied to me.”

Miguel winces. “No. No, I didn't. I tried, believe me.” His hands squeeze your hips. “I tried for you but…it's not for me. This,” He gestures to himself, clad in black spandex and white fur. “This is who I am now. It's how I have to live.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your mask-covered face. He wonders what you looked like underneath. Were you as beautiful as your body? Your heart? He dreamed so. He knew so.

“I still don't believe that.” You whisper, leaning into his touch, hands slowly going around the back of his neck and he takes it as an invite to bring you closer.

“You're still so naive.” He murmurs.

“You said you liked that about me.” You quipped. Miguel chuckles.

“I did say that.”

You feel a smile creep up on your face, your heart feeling lighter at the sound of his laugh.

“Hopefully we'll cross paths more often now that I'm back in New York.” Miguel grins. “Te extrañe.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper. With your chest pressed up against his, you could faintly feel the rumble of him purring. Miguel's claws run under your throat, flicking up the fabric of your mask to expose just a bit of your neck as if wanting to lift it off. “But you know I have to turn you in for robbing.” You add.

“Hm. A shame.” He mumbles dismissively. He continues to ride up your mask and you let him. He stops at your nose and leaves it there, eyes focused on the way your lips parted. “Kiss for good luck?” He asks. His eyes glint when you licks your lips subconsciously.

“You’re pushing it, kitty.” You mumble back but your arms tighten around him. Miguel purrs at the pet name.

“Just one kiss.” He insists, leaning down to brush his lips against your mask where your forehead was. You tilt his head further down with your hand at the back of his head and he follows. With your guidance, his lips find yours and your heart skips a beat. Miguel tugs you closer by the waist, pressing your chest and hips together. His hands crawl up your spine while he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You match his pace with your eyes closed while you feel his soft lump lips caressing yours. You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted–not when his hands roamed your body, squeezing you and devouring as much of your tiny moans as he could. Your hands curled up at the base of his neck while he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. Gasping, you allowed him access but he pulled away. “I’ll see you next time, arañita.” Miguel whispers against your lips,the fangs of his teeth gently nibble on your top lip before he pulls away. He squeezes your waist, his touch lingering and aching to keep you near but he lets go. He takes a step back from you and jumps back into the night, the sound of his grappling hook zipping through the air faintly. You sigh, trying to slow down your heartbeat with a hand over your chest when suddenly you pause. “Dammit…” You huff and kick a pebble away from you.

a/n: black cat miguel o'hara if you can hear me, please save me, save me black cat miguel o'hara

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara imagine

805 notes · View notes

qsphyxias · 2 months

Text

Nightwing x Male! Thief! Reader

if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; nightwing and ur dynamic, as a small, not super skilled, thief that nightwing likes

warnings ; male! reader, cussing, mention of oral sex (no actual sex at all), banter,

note ; wish i wrote smth abt nightwing's GYATTT

words ; 1.3k+

Your teeth chattered in your jaw as you continued to shovel stacks of cash from the busted vault into your gym bag. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you could feel your fingers going numb from the adrenaline rushing through your hands — Faster, damn it, faster!

The emergency lights flashed a red hue on everything you saw, and you couldn't hear anything but a pulsing in your head, and quiet and light steps behind you. Knowing who it was, you only sighed and remained tense, refusing to look your assailant in the eye.

"Really, s/o?" You winced at his disappointed tone of voice, already pissed at his audacity to talk as if — "As if you have the right to judge me, Boy Wonder." You spat out, frowning as you swivelled around to see Dick Grayson, a mere inch away from you. Your gym bag rotated around you on impact and caught itself on your shoulder. The impact and the shock alone were enough to make you take a step back — but not before Dick had slipped one of his batons behind the groove of your back, pulling you towards his chest by pulling on both ends of the baton.

"It's Nightwing now, actually." He corrected, seemingly unfazed by your resentful attitude. Your dynamic usually went this way; a small fight amongst rivals and old friends, with a mutual understanding that the other is off-limits. Looking down at your irritated face, Dick only grinned wittingly and nodded towards your bag full of cash over your shoulder, "I assume... money's tight?"

You could only laugh, feigning shock, "Oh, right, I forgot you don't know what it's like to be poor because your daddy's filthy rich." With a quick shove away from his suit-bound chest, you backed away from him and started immediately looking for exits.

Dick noticed and shook his head. "Hey man, he may be a billionaire, but he doesn't give me a single penny!" Dick stepped closer to you as you stepped back, cornering you. "Can you believe that?" He muttered, his perfect hair looking like a bright shade of red from your close-up point of view underneath the hue of the emergency lights.

You looked up at him, then looked down as you considered punching him in the stomach to get away. The vigilante began eyeing your bag, taking the chance and reaching for it when you were distracted looking for his weak points.

Acting quickly, you rip the bag away from him, bolting for a closed window jumping out of it and into another rooftop of a building. Glass had flown everywhere, some of it cutting you, and some of it landing inside your shoes. Dick laughed in slight annoyance as he saw you take off, not wasting another second and going right after you. "You can't run forever! I know this bank personally, s/o, they're getting their money back!"

You don't waste time looking behind you and flip him the bird over your shoulder, leaping onto another building with a running start. Midair, you feel a strong arm wrap grab your waist and fling you around in an unknown direction — just until you reach solid ground on top of a 24/7 diner. Not used to being in the fucking air you found yourself holding onto the superhero's shoulder's in a vice grip until you let go, finding the whole situation mortifying.

"Breakfast?" Dick looked at the bright Neon sign that was below eye level from his spot on the rooftop, grinning at you so coyly; he was serious.

"It's 4 AM, Dick." You say his name like an insult, rather than a title.

Dick, however, was unfazed, having heard that joke over a thousand times in his lifetime. "Well, yeah it's midnight, but I'm hungry and— Oh shoot! I'm short on cash... S/o? Do you happen to have cash?" Nightwing crossed his arms and hummed in thought looking around like a sailor looking for land.

You could only roll your eyes at his behaviour, knowing he was serious about using the money you stole to buy himself a chicken-fried steak and a stack of pancakes.

A normal person who was to look at this man's behaviour would have instantly known he was joking; you, however, were no ordinary man. For you have known Grayson for longer than you wanted to have known him, and a couple of years' worth of time spent with the acrobat was enough information for you to know; he fucked around, but man, did he love finding out.

You felt your shoulders drop in a "why-not" attitude, and you let out a long sigh, shrugging and gesturing to jump down from the rooftop of the diner.

With a pursed lip smile, Dick hopped down and opened the diner's front door, beckoning you inside eagerly. After you got down, you rolled your eyes at him but laughed anyway, finding the situation unbelievable. "Did you want a blowjob for your chivalry?" You joked, peeking over your shoulder to catch Grayson checking out your ass from behind you.

"Why; is that an offer?" Grayson ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rapid-firing his side of the banter. The hostess stood before the two of you, watching the exchange occur uncomfortably. Despite your public profanities, she couldn't care less, it was 4 am.

"Table for two?"

——————————————————————————————————

The air was calm in the diner, it smelt of coffee — which made sense, because how else would you stay awake at this ungodly hour? You were lucky that there was no one else here; a swarm of men and women alike would have crowded around the superhero sitting before you, had it not been empty.

As you scanned the menu briefly, you couldn't help but get a little distracted at the sight of the man before you. Stealing glances above the menu, you leaned back in your side of the booth and shrunk, trying to look as if you aren't staring at him just for the sake of staring.

"I know I'm gob-stoppingly gorgeous, but be careful, you might even fall in love with me with that look." Dick snorted, dropping the menu down on the table to reveal his shit-eating grin.

"Oh fuck off," You murmured, looking away for a second only to meet his eyes again. "... So what's the plan, Dick?" Your embarrassment was soon replaced with your focus on the important matter at hand. "Are you planning not to turn me in today? Plan to take me out to dinner like one of your girls?" His attention was now completely on you, his eyes carefully watching you as you got comfortable in your cushioned seat, balancing your head on your hands as you leaned forward.

"What do you want?"

Dick gulped. "Well, I... I want a huge stack of your house buckwheat pancakes and a soda float, if you please." His demeanour shifted completely as he transformed from sexy-man to child-patron when he waved his hand over to the waitress to get her attention and his order in. "And— What, a milkshake? A milkshake for the gentleman please— And fries!" He looked back at you, "can't have a milkshake without fries, am I right?"

You could only stare blankly at him as he conversed with the waitress across the room, "Dick, look at me." getting fed up with his indifference, you reached forward to grab his jaw lightly by the tips of your fingers, angling his face to confront you. You could feel your heart skip a beat as his dark blue eyes focused on you once again.

Your breath hitched, and you nearly forgot what you wanted to say. "... The hell do you want with me now that we're here?" You repeated under your breath, watching as one of his hands reached up to grab your hand on his face.

"Well,"

"Maybe I just wanted to waste some of your time, sweetheart."

273 notes · View notes

lucywrites02 · 9 months

Text

The game of cat and spider Chapter 1

Main masterlist ♡ Miguel O'hara masterlist ♡ The game of cat and spider Masterlist ♡ AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

A/n: And here I am with my first Miguel fanfic! I can't say how many chapters this story will have because I am still in the middle of planning out this fic. I hope you enjoy it! I am looking forward to reading your feedback :3 I will try my best and update every week

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x black cat! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: mention on a wound and blood. There are probably some mistakes since I didn't proofread ups..

Series Summary: You are a criminal and he's a hero. You don't know each other's names, never seen the person behind the mask. You aren't enemies- you are supposed to be but that didn't work out quite well. You liked each other a bit too much, but your relationship was strictly…. Professional? What happens if you meet as normal people, with no masks and responsibilities in your way? What did the universe plan for you? And most importantly…. Will it last?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Here, kitty kitty." The spider-man called, chasing the town's most famous thief- the black cat. You were proud of this title- most wanted criminal in Nueva York. You worked hard to earn that and no person was gonna take that away from you. Especially not a grown us man playing dress-up at night.

It stopped raining hours ago, but the streets were still wet and slippery which meant you had to be really careful. It would be incredibly embarrassing to land on your ass and get your suit wet in front of the town's favourite superhero. Even though it was still summer, the nights got really cold sometimes. Like now. Your suit wasn't made for this kind of weather and if you weren't running you would surely be shivering. The raindrops on windows and the ground reflected the street lights, creating a cozy atmosphere. It was one of the most silent parts of the city- there weren't many cars driving at this hour and people who lived there were already asleep. A typical upper class corner. It was unusual for a metropole like Nueva York to be this quiet, that's why you liked 'working' in this neighbourhood. It was quiet. Almost relaxing. You would probably appreciate your surroundings more if it wasn't for the man in a latex bodysuit running after you.

His costume was soaked after you pushed him into the pool in someone's garden as you were fighting him off of you. The droplets made him shine a little when the light hit him at the right angle.

At first Miguel treated you like any other criminal- you were an obstacle that had to be removed- but you escaped him every damn time. O'hara was beyond furious the first few times it happened. And your flirty comments and constant teasing didn't help at all. That's why he was surprised when he noticed that he started doing that, too at some point. Chasing you became more of a hobby than responsibility and even though Miguel would never say that out loud, he kinda enjoyed it. It's been almost a year since the two of you started that little game of cat and spider and it would be a lie if Miguel said you were an enemy. You were more of a…. Miguel wasn't entirely sure what your relationship was, but you definitely didn't hate each other and even though it's Spider-man's job to capture you, he didn't actually want to do it. But you didn't have to know about that.

"Just give me the necklace back and we can call it a day." The man sighed, pretending to be irritated as you kept running away. The black cat made spider-man's job fun, but the man would never admit it. The 'fights' with you- if Miguel could even call them fights- were different. You were no villain that wanted to take over the town. Neither were you ever going to kill him just because he's spider-man. That's why Miguel actually kinda enjoyed those 'fights'. You were just a thief- a very skillful one, but still. The black cat had a sense of humour that no other person had and Miguel yearned for those interactions. It probably wasn't very hero-like to enjoy talking with a criminal, but O'hara wasn't an ordinary hero. He didn't like doing things by the 'superhero handbook'.

"Ask nicely and maybe I will" you chuckled, climbing over a wired fence. You were distracted by the man and didn't observe your surroundings well. That's why you hissed in pain as one of the wires that was standing out cut the skin on your tight, tearing your suit as well. You had to keep running, but the pain in your leg was slowing you down.

You gasped as you felt strong arms holding your shoulders from behind. Your back collided with Spider-man's broad chest. It made your head spin. Or was it because of the pain?

"Give it back, pretty please." The masked man whispered into your ear. "You will hurt yourself more if you keep running" his deep voice made shivers run down your spine.

"Pff, do you think I'm stupid?" You chuckled, turning your head to the left to get a better look at the masked man. "I worked two weeks to get this, you're not taking it away from me." You heard the spider-man sigh heavily. Your heartbeat quickened its pace and you begged it to stop. Having him touch you so firm, but yet so gentle made your knees buckle and you had enough.

For a moment your eyes met- at least that's what you thought since you couldn't really see his eyes- and you almost melted against his chest. That's when you decided it was too much and that your heart was crossing a line- how dared it make you feel weak and vulnerable?! You kicked the man's leg, taking him by surprise and fled. You heard some Spanish curses thrown your way and giggled. You run, ignoring the stinging sensation and manage to actually lose the hero. Enough adventures for one night.

You patted yourself on the shoulder for a job well done and headed back home. You arrived at an alley behind your apartment complex- that's where you hid a backpack with a simple hoodie and sweatpants. It would be weird if you entered the building as the black cat. You liked risks, but you would never compromise your private life. It was important to keep your secret identity a secret- that was the whole point of the word 'secret'. The neighbours wouldn't be happy to know you're a criminal- they already complained that your cat runs around the apartment complex unsupervised as if that was their biggest concern.

And it wasn't like you were really a criminal! Well, technically you were- stealing is a crime- but it's not like you were doing that for selfish reasons! You almost never keep the money from your heists to yourself. In the eye of the public you are an honourable person- an angel that supports charities, animal shelters and orphanages. They never ask where the money came from- they are simply happy they are getting some support. You still did some petry crime sometimes. Like that one time when some business guy was being rude to a waitress so you stole his wallet. Or that one time where you broke into the house of your best friend's ex boyfriend and stole his watch collection because he cheated on her. The point was that you only stole from bad people. And as everyone knows stealing from the rich is not a crime.

That spider-man guy didn't know about it, of course. You never told him why you are stealing and he didn't really have to know. It was fun to be chased by him- at the very beginning of your journey as the black cat you would always get an adrenaline kick from your robberies. But after a while it wasn't as thrilling anymore… you have gotten too good at cracking safes open and hacking security systems. It became so monotonous and simply not exciting. And then the spider-man came. The masked man made your 'side job' fun again. You got to steal from the rich, give to the poor and get chased by a charismatic hero in a tight latex costume. You never knew when he would appear, meaning you always had to be on your toes. But when he finally showed up, oh boy was it fun. You were worried at first, thinking he was capable enough to capture you, but thankfully you were wrong. The masked man was capable, of course, but not enough to get you. He was definitely a challenge and that's why you were determined to never get caught by him. You were sure that at some point he started enjoying those interactions, too.

You swore under your breath, looking for the keys to your apartment's door in the pockets of your hello kitty themed backpack. The blood coming from your tight soaked into the grey sweatpants you wore over your suit and if one of your nosy neighbours saw you like that you would never hear the end of it. And if they saw the shiny necklace in your bag they would bombard you with questions and gossip about it later. Finally after what felt like eternity you found the keys and with a relieved smile you opened the door. You could still feel his touch on your body…

You were greeted by the loud meowing of your beloved cat, Migsy.

"Yeah, I missed you too, baby" You chuckled, gently patting her head. "I will give you all my love when I patch myself up." You sighed heavily and headed to the bathroom. Your apartment wasn't really big- you had a bathroom, kitchen, living room and a bedroom with a little balcony attached to it. It was enough for you. Determined to make this house a home you spent hours painting the murals on your walls and decorating them with your art and photos. People loved spending time in your apartment- it was so green and fresh because of all the plants scattered across the floor. You always took good care of them and even gave them names. It might have been childish, but it made you happy and that was the only thing that mattered.

You would love nothing but to collapse on your green bubble couch and watch some shitty TV, but you had to take care of yourself first. There was no one else who could do that for you.

The rest of your night was filled with frustrated sobs as you stitched yourself up and the sound of music playing in the background that you put on to calm your nerves. The music didn't help though and you were still a nervous mess. Your head was filled with many thoughts about the man behind the spider-man mask. This little game the two of you played was getting dangerous. You realised it one night after you dreamed about kissing him- you told yourself it was nothing more than a silly crush to make yourself feel better. The man was very attractive after all. At least his body was because you have never seen his face. And that was another one of your problems- you yearned to know who he was behind the mast. Were his eyes brown or green? Did he have dimples when he smiled? Would his lips feel good against yours?

"Meow!" Migsy's cry snapped you out of your daydream.

"Oh, yeah, sorry baby," you apologised, quickly bandaging your wound. "I'm all yours now." You gave your furry roommate a gentle smile and picked her up. "It's time for us to sleep, don't you think?" You talked to the cat and she looked at you with her pretty yellow eyes.

You laid down on your bed, hugging the animal closer you your chest and her soft purring made you relax into the cold pillow.

You fell asleep, hoping that the Spider-man won't visit you in your dreams this time.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ chapter 2 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @serpentstarr @bucketluvr @nxrdamp

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader

337 notes · View notes

auras-moonstone · 5 months

Note

Holaaa me emocione bastante con saber q eres de argentina (yo no soy de argentina soy de Mexico) pero esta cool saber q también hablas español lol

llevo rato leyendo tus trabajos y me encanta como escribeees, no se que te parezca la idea de una historia de Ethan como Spiderman tbh es mi head canon favorito y no hay mucha gente que lo escriba ahí una idea no se si sigas aceptando requests o si ya habías escrito algo de Ethan como Spiderman pero me encantaría leer algo así escrito por ti obvi 🤭

(En ingles ofc!)

Perdooon si escribí bastante me emocione jajaja apenas agarre el valor Para dejar un request

hola 🇲🇽 ! perdón por haber tardado tanto en escribir esta request😫 me encantó la idea, hace bastante que quería escribir algo sobre ethan como spiderman <3 espero que te guste❤️🫶🏻

the story of us — ethan landry

word count: 2,693

pairing: spider-man!ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan and y/n’s relationship might be ending soon because of the boy’s behaviour and secrets.

based on: the story of us by taylor swift

warnings: mention of blood. a bit of angst.

Y/N SHOULDN’T FEEL SURPRISED FOR HAVING BEEN STOOD UP BY ETHAN, it seemed to be his favourite hobby lately. But when he came up to her with regretful puppy eyes asking for them to meet so he could explain the reason behind his behaviour, she really thought he would keep his word and show up to fix things.

But once again he failed her, and now Y/N was walking back home alone with mascara running down her face and with her chest filled with disappointment and sadness.

Y/N was walking through the dark and unsafe NYC streets, wondering what excuse her boyfriend was going to use this time, when she heard a whimper coming from the creepy unlit alley she was passing by. Her whole body tightened with fear, hands instantly became sweaty, her heart thundered dangerously fast and yet she stopped walking. Then the noise came again, this time more clear—it was a pained curse from a male voice.

The girl couldn’t decide if she was stupid or too brave, but she walked towards the person. Her eyes widened at the scene—there, sitting next to a container, was Spiderman; a bleeding Spiderman.

“Holy hell, are you okay?” she cried, inspecting the wound. “Of course you’re not okay! You’re bleeding a lot! A lot!”

Ethan cursed internally. Of all the people who could have found him, it had to be her. “Thanks for the calming words.” the superhero said between gritted teeth.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have said that. I was exaggerating, it’s not that bad.” Y/N tried to convince him.

“You’re a horrible liar” his hands were shaking as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here, the smell is awful.” the girl said, putting one of his—very strong and muscled—arms around her shoulders. “I know you’re in pain, but I need you to use a bit of your strength to help me lift you to your feet. Can you do that?” the masked figure nodded. “Okay, at the count of three.”

Ethan closed his eyes in pain as he let out a cry of agony. He had been walking towards the cafe where Y/N worked when he heard screaming. An old woman and her granddaughter were being robbed and it was his duty to save them. He would’ve made it to his date with Y/N if the thief’s partner hadn’t caught him off guard and sliced his stomach. Time didn’t matter anymore, he couldn’t show up wounded, and he didn’t have the energy to walk so he stayed in that creepy alley where Y/N found him.

“Ouch!” he yelled when the girl carelessly dropped him on her couch as soon as they arrived to her apartment.

“Sorry!” Y/N said guiltily. “My arms hurt.”

“It’s okay. Thank you, I just need to rest here for a few minutes and I’ll be out of your sight.” he panted.

“You can’t leave! I need to clean you up and then you need to eat something.”

“No, it’s okay. Look, just lend me a first-aid kit, I’ll do it myself. Then I’m leaving.” it wasn’t that Ethan was ungrateful for her help, he just didn’t want to be a burden. Also, if she was to see his body, she was going to recognize him instantly. And Ethan was not going to let that happen.

“Hey, you’re always saving our asses, it’s time someone finally takes care of you.” she smiled softly.

“I really appreciate that, seriously. But I’d be more comfortable doing it myself, if you don’t mind.”

“As you wish.” she said in understanding. And as he stitched himself up, Y/N went to the kitchen to prepare something for him to eat.

Ethan watched her from the doorframe. He wanted to close the space so badly, he wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and never let go. They saw each other everyday, but it’s been days since the last time he got to hold her, kiss her, touch her.

Y/N was really pissed at him, and with good reason. Countless were the times he had stood her up and he slowly—and absentmindedly—started to distance himself from her. And a few days ago, Y/N just exploded and they started fighting. Instead of telling her the truth (that he was a superhero and that the NYC streets were more dangerous than he had thought) he told her she was being dramatic and that he needed a bit of space. He regretted it instantly, and wanted to throw up as soon as his eyes caught her hurt expression. He was trying to keep her safe, but he handed everything in the worst way possible and ended up wounding the person that meant the most to him.

“You cooked for me?” he spoke up. Even though she couldn’t see it, she felt the smile on his voice.

“I told you, it’s time someone takes care of you.” she answered. “Is the wound okay? Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’m a big tough boy.” he said in a teasing voice when she finished. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved me.”

“Anytime, Spider-boy. And honestly, you shouldn’t even thank me, you risk your life for us every- wait a minute.” she stopped when she realised something. “How do you know my name?”

Fuck, he cursed internally. He had messed up. “You told me.” he tried to sound confident.

“No, I didn’t. Do we know each other? Do we go to the same college?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I need to go.” he stood up abruptly, and a whimper of pain left his mouth.

“No! I’m sorry, I won’t press the subject.” she said, grabbing his forearms to sit him back on the chair. “I respect you wanting to keep your identity hidden. I won’t ask any more questions, but please stay. You’re still weak, you need to eat something.”

“You already did a lot. Really.”

“I swear to god, stop being stubborn.”

Who was he kidding with the hesitation? Just one look at her doe eyes and he was on his knees. As he ate, Y/N had her back to him so he could take his mask off. She could have turned around at any time and discover that the friendly neighbour hero was her boyfriend, but she never did. She respected his wish of not wanting to show his face, and that made him love her ever more.

“Your omelette was great” he said as he put the plate on the dishwasher. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Why were you crying?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. Ethan and Y/N weren’t on speaking terms, so maybe by talking to her through his secret identity would give him an insight on how to fix the relationship he tore up.

The sad girl frowned and pressed her lips into a line. She didn’t talk to her friends much about Ethan because she didn’t want to put them in an uncomfortable position, as they were all friends, so she had been keeping her frustrations bottled up. And now there was this trustful kind stranger asking her about it, so she gave in.

“My boyfriend didn’t show up to our date. He has been acting so strange lately. He shows up late, he always has a different excuse and gets all nervous and defensive because he’s obviously lying, but most times he doesn’t even show up. Like today.” the exhaustion and defeat was evident on her tone and it broke his heart. “He was supposed to meet me today, so he could open up and tell me what’s going on in his life, but…”

“He let you down again.” he added in a sad tone. Y/N nodded, tears blurring her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I love him, I really do, but our relationship has become one-sided. I’m trying to save it, but it seems like he doesn’t care anymore.”

Fear crept into his mind. Was that it? Was it their end? Was she going to break up with him the next day? He wouldn’t blame her. Yet, he couldn’t help being selfish—he did not want them to break up.

“Maybe there is something going on in his life… something that he can’t tell you for your own good.” he said, and he knew he sounded stupid.

“What could be so bad that he can’t talk to me about it? We have always been honest with each other. He knows he can tell me anything, he knows that he’ll have my support no matter what. I just want him to talk to me. I don’t know what happened with our relationship, but there’s nothing I can do unless he talks to me.”

“Things are going to get better.” the superhero said, rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture.

Ethan had multiple opportunities to be honest with her, to explain why he had become so distant and yet he held his pride and told her she was exaggerating the whole situation. So, as much as she tried to be positive and believe Spider-man’s words, she was scared the story of them might be ending soon.

ETHAN REACHED THE TABLE WHERE THE GROUP WAS SITTING AT and eyed the two empty spots left. One was next to Chad, who was talking animatedly with Tara and Mindy, and the other one was beside Y/N. His spot had always been the one next to hers, but with their current complications and not knowing exactly in which page they were at, he didn’t know what to do. Seeing the way she was nervously pulling at her clothes and tried to look busy, he ended up choosing the first option.

Even though she was trying hard to avoid looking at him, his presence was overwhelming and it took all of her strength to hold back from peaking a glance at his gorgeous smile and perfect curls. She was dying to know if the situation was killing him as much as it was killing her.

Little did she know the boy was losing his mind. The anguish was too much, so many thoughts were running through his mind. He was dying to let her know what was going on, but he was scared it was going to put her in danger. He would rather have her be angry at him than her getting hurt because of him. The wiser thing would be to let her go, to free her from the chaos that came with being involved with a superhero, but he the selfish part of him couldn’t break things up—Ethan loved her too much to give her up.

He needed to come up with a decision. This contest of who could act like they cared less needed to end and he could not tolerate the loud silence between them anymore. “Do you think we could talk tonight?”

“If you have the decency to show up.” she shrugged.

Her armour was up, and it was understandable. “I will. I’ll meet you at your apartment after Econ?”

“Okay.” Y/N nodded. “I’m serious, Ethan. Show up. This is your last chance.”

“I won’t let you down again, Y/N/N. I promise.”

ETHAN DIDN'T KNOW IF THE AREA WHERE Y/N WORKED IN WAS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS OR IF HE JUST HAD BAD LUCK, but every time he was near, something happened that forced him to step in. Thankfully, this time it was an inexperienced thief he easily managed to bring down but his wound wasn't fully healed yet so he was in a bit of pain after the fight. But the important thing was that he made it to Y/N's house.

The girl was unable to hide her relief when she opened the door, but it soon turned into worry. "Ethan, what the hell happened? You're bleeding!"

The curly-haired boy looked down to find a scarlet stain on his blue polo shirt. The wound on his abdomen must have opened while he was stopping the thief, and he didn't even noticed because of the adrenaline. "Um, it's nothing, I-"

"Sit down." she ordered right before leaving to grab the first-aid kit. When she lifted his shirt up, she frowned.

"What is it?" Ethan asked worriedly.

"Ethan, when did this happen?"

"Um, I was robbed while making my way here." the lie slipped off his tongue in an instant.

"You keep lying to me." she let out a humourless laugh. "This has been stitched before, Ethan."

He sighed, thinking of another excuse. "Okay, fine. It's not new. I fell and landed on something sharp, and it cut my stomach."

"Okay, now I'm not only angry because you lied to me twice in the past sixty seconds, but also because you think I'm stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid."

"If you believe I'd buy that shitty excuse, then yes, I think you think I'm stupid." she spat. "Tell me the truth. Right now, Ethan."

Silence embraced the room. As Y/N worked on the wound, Ethan tried to find the words to explain. "I don't know where to start."

"Let's start by telling me how did you get this."

"A thief did it to me." he said, and ignoring his girlfriend's warning glance, he continued, "but he wasn't robbing me. He was stealing from an old woman and I stepped in. He cut me while I was distracted."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as they scrutinised his face, trying to spot any sign that told her he was lying. She find none. "You fought them?" she asked in disbelief, and Ethan nodded. "That's... that's really brave. And stupid."

"It's my job." he blurted out, making her look at him in confusion. "Well, it's not a job job, because I don't get paid. Not that I'd do it for money, even though I need it-"

"Eth!" she interrupted him. "I love it when you ramble, you're adorable, but could you please explain?"

"I missed you calling me Eth." he whispered, caressing her right cheek. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Eth. But we need to talk. Well, you need to talk. What is going on with you? Why are you so distant? Why do you keep missing our dates? What did you mean by 'It's my job'?"

"I'll tell you, but I need to warn you first. You were in danger before knowing this, but after I tell you... you are going to be an even bigger target. And you can't tell anyone, okay? No one knows, and no one has to know."

"Okay, just spit it out, Ethan."

"I'm Spider-man."

It was as if their surroundings had frozen, and minutes felt like hours. Y/N sat on the couch, dumbfounded, and Ethan's leg bounced as he bit his nails.

Meanwhile, Y/N's brain worked at a fast pace, trying to connect the dots. Now, in hindsight, everything made sense. His bruises, his wounds, why he was always in high alert, why his walls were up, his grades dropping, his tardiness... he became the friendly neighborhood spiderman. The vigilante she had found bleeding the previous night.

"Hey! You used your secret identity to get information out of me, asshole!"

"That's all you have to say?!"

"I mean, no... but I don't really know what to say."

"You're not mad?"

"I don't think so. I really wish you would've told me, could've saved up lots of arguments, but I do understand why you didn't tell me. I'm glad you opened up, tho. I am really tired of missing you and not kissing you."

Ethan laughed. “I love you. I missed you like crazy, and I'm sorry for everything.” he hold her close to his chest and let himself relax for the first time in weeks. “By the way, you need to quit that job. I swear there’s a robbery every five fucking minutes.”

“Have you been following me?” she arched her eyebrow.

“Keeping an eye on you.” he corrected. “I can’t let anything happen to my girl, and like I said, it’s a dangerous area.”

Y/N laughed and kissed his lips tenderly “I love you, my little stalker. Don’t keep secrets from me ever again.”

“Never. I promise. We’re a team.”

249 notes · View notes

charlietheepicwriter7 · 9 months

Text

the ship name for jazz x dick grayson is Night Birds, right?

Well, Night Birds, but Jazz was Red X

Every summer, Maddie and Jack would sign Jazz and Danny up for the cheesiest, mind-numbingly boring ghost hunting camp in the world, located in Jump City. There's maybe a dozen other kids there, but only two camp councilors, so it's super easy for Jazz to sneak out of there. Danny, of course, is super mad that she doesn't take him with her, but as the elder, the 12 to his 9, she refuses to risk him in the dangerous metafilled Jump City.

This ghost hunting camp is what sparks Jazz's bitter, teenage rebellion. SHE wanted to go to a psychology camp; she'd even picked one out in Florida, only a few miles away from a space program for Danny. But noooooo, Dad had found a dirty, ripped pamphlet for Spooky Ghost Camp and signed them both up, without. even. asking. At least Danny's well looked after, being the youngest kid at camp, but that gives Jazz free time.

and in her free time, she fixates on one of her first obsessions: the psychology of superheroes.

Not sure how Jazz would get the Red X suit; she'd have to learn that Robin was Red X, then steal it, and I'm not sure how'd she'd accomplish that. But she's a smart, independent child badass, I'm sure she figured it out.

Every year her parents sent her and Danny to that damn ghost camp. Every year, Jazz put on the Red X suit and tormented the Teen Titans. She couldn't dye her hair, or sneak out at night, but she had crime. Robin gets his first bisexual crisis because of her bantering/flirting with him.

Eventually Danny finds out she's Red X and is thrilled. His sister can beat up the Teen Titans, it's so cool. Maybe in the future, Jazz can steal the Pink X suit from the Teen Titans Go comics so Danny can join in the fun, have some fun gender shenanigans for them both to have alteregos that are the opposite gender.

The reason why I thought of thsi au is because I keep reading "Danny is a thief in Gotham" type stories (which are EXCELLENT) and I can't stop imagining this specific scene: Thief Danny is cornered by the batfam, about to be caught, when out of nowhere... *spanish guitar* Red X comes to save the kid. No one knows who this guy is except for Nightwing, who seems to automatically hate this guy who's... flirting with him? Is this a Cat Woman situation? This sounds like a Cat Woman situation.

Also, not sure which I like better:

For Jazz to fill out on her chest, but keep the male voice of Red X, leading to some gender confusion.

For Red X to become less of an addition to Jazz as it is part of her core personality. She is just as much Red X as she is Jazz, so when her chest comes in, she thinks "hmm, don't like that" and gets top surgery.

bc Jazz? Still totally into the Red X game even as an adult. She even found a similar ghost hunting camp in Bloodhaven after Robin went solo. She hadn't even graduated high school yet, but her favorite hobby is tormenting this one superhero. She bats at him like a cat with a spider.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #night birds #C: nightwing #c: jazz fenton #anti terf #jazz fenton is red x au #jazz is usually a put together amicable young lady #but for that one month in Jump City she goes crazy #she has so much tension in her body from being a 12 year old single mom #she deserves to go feral on the bird boy. as a treat #there's also a plotline where robin!jason discovers that Pink X is a boy #and jason has to decide whether or not to tell the batfam #bc jason and pink x are almost friends at point #jason has a little crush on them #nightwing has never related to robin!jason more

173 notes · View notes

jenniferswhor3 · 2 years

Text

you're not cool enough - stiles stilinski

teen wolf masterlist | masterlist

requests are currently closed.

spiderman!stiles stilinski x reader

summary; secrets get revealed and yet, you don't believe it

warnings; cursing, kissing

authors note; this spiderman!au is mostly inspired by that one picture of dylan

"no way, you're not cool enough."

if there's one thing you know about beacon hills, it was extremely unpredictable.

after finding out scott was a werewolf, your life became pretty hectic. you and your friend group were fighting all sort of supernatural villains. from kanima’s to nogitsune’s, safe to say you and your friends had your fair share of villains.

the one thing you could've never, ever, predicted was a superhero. you heard that right, the whole city of beacon hills and some surrounding towns had its very own superhero.

it wasn't unusual, there were other superhero around the world. it was just strange beacon hills had one. you had fought all different kinds of supernatural beings and evil people, so why a superhero. it was nice to have someone fight the non-supernatural criminals that were big enough the cause havoc that's too much for the police. but it was all so weird.

the villains kept getting weirder and weirder. it started out with bank robber and thief's, but it escalated, and fast. they started getting comic-like. villains that you would've thought you and your friends fought, but the masked man did.

there was a man who created a pair of metal wings the flew around destroying things, a former scientist turned crazy with robotic tenticles coming out of his back, and even a man who was electric.

sooner or later, it felt normal to have him around. he was like a blessing in disguise. often times you'd see him helping an old lady cross the street or returning a bike to a young boy who had tears in his eyes, he even bought him ice cream afterwards. the whole city fell in love with this masked vigilante, and so did you.

the blue and red clad spandex, mask-wearing, superhero quickly became some sort of celebrity crush. he stole your attention every time anyone mentioned him. you could only imagine what he looked like underneath that mask. the boy who called himself spiderman even sounded attractive.

you pictured this lean yet muscular body, dark colored hair either brown or black, and amazing cheekbones. you had doodled different samples of what he could look like. you had a major crush on someone you didn't even know what looked like.

but what you didn't know is you based your little masked crush on your best friend, stiles. stiles has had the biggest crush on you since forever, and so have you, except you didn't know of it. you always played off because you didn't think you could be attracted to your best friend.

you had spent multiple months wondering who in this crazy town was spiderman, you never, ever, thought it could be your best friend.

you and stiles were currently sitting on your living room floor with all your homework spread across the coffee table. you both were studying for a big test in your upcoming sociology class. you had the tv playing in the background with the news playing.

"okay, true or false: the–" stiles begins to say before the news interrupts him.

it was a news story about spidey's latest take down. "shh!" you silenced stiles to listen closely.

stiles only rolled his eyes at your infatuation to the superhero. he loved that you had a crush on spiderman because he was spiderman, but what he hated was that what if he told you he was spiderman and you were disappointed? what if you didn't like him?

he shook out all those bad thoughts and tuned into to what the news reporter was saying about his latest take down. the female reporter explained how he took down a group of bank robbers with high tech weapons. you partially had hearts for eyes as you watch phone footage of him defending himself. “i hope he’s okay.” stiles heard you mumble to himself.

once the story ended and the commercials rolled through, you put your attention back to stiles and your schoolwork. "i wonder who spiderman is."

"i could be spiderman." stiles said with a shrug.

"ha. funny." you say not taking your eyes off your paper.

you can sense stiles having a look of disbelief. looking up, you proved your senses, his jaw was slack and his brows furrowed. he was spastically trying to find words to say. "its because you aren't cool enough." you shrugged jokingly.

"pfft. whaat?! i am so cool enough to be spiderman." he stammered out.

you were only half-assing your words. of course your best friend was cool enough to be spiderman and you wouldn't doubt it either, considering all the weird stuff in this city. its just, you couldn't picture him as spiderman. you couldn't picture stiles as your masked crush.

weeks went by and the masked man still held your attention. stiles had been debating on whether on not to tell you. his major fear of you being disgusted by him being your masked crush shook him to the core.

it made him wonder how it would be like after he told you. would you be tame about it, would you somehow miraculously like him back, or would you stop being friends and never speak again. he also wondered if you would go and tell the whole city his secret identity.

you had also been doing some thinking of your own. about stiles, specifically. his boyish charm had been sneaking its way to your heart. his witty and sarcastic comebacks, his ability to make you laugh no matter what, and his charming good looks have been wrapped around your brain for weeks.

you didn't want to confirm it, in fear of potentially getting rejected and losing one of the best friendships you had ever experienced, but you had been falling for your best friends. not suddenly, but you realized you had begun falling for him a while ago. you don't know when or how but its been quite a while.

on one uneventful night, on your part, you had been sitting on your bed doing homework. your headphones were blasting your homework playlist loud enough so you couldn't hear any potential distractions. everyone else in the house was asleep so the was for sure gonna be no distractions.

except for the abrupt knock on your second story window. you hadn't heard it the first few knocks, the continuous knocks didn't line up to the beat of the song in your ears so you suspected in was something outside of your headphones.

your bedroom was on the second story and there were no surrounding trees anyone could climbing up or have knock on the window on a windy day. so naturally you were curious, and frankly a bit scared, as to who or what could be at the window.

now stiles had a long, long night. there was a new and unwanted villain in town and stiles, well spiderman, was the first to respond.

the new villain in town called himself grizzly. his motives were unknown but stiles knew he was some sort of ex-fighter with a bear themed design. he wore a suit of fur with real authentic, and sharp, claws. stiles had learned that the hard way.

grizzly had been wrecking havoc on innocent people of beacon hills. he was destroying property and stole valuables all to get the attention of spiderman. for some reason, grizzly had it out for him. the suit grizzly wore made him have some sort of super strength ability, making his jabs more painful.

their fight lasted longer than stiles thought it would. after countless punches, claw marks, and web slinging, the fight was over. the cops finally arrived and removed the costume from grizzly and took him into custody.

it was a nasty fight. stiles had more hits on him than he suspected. despite his mask, he knew he still had multiple cuts and bruises along his face, multiple on his arms and legs, and four deep slashes from grizzly's claws right on his torso, cutting right through his suit. he couldn't go home, not like this, nor to any of his friends houses to keep his identity a secret.

he was limping down the cold asphalt with nothing but the moonlight lighting his path. the roads were empty and stiles was thankful for this, no drivers would wander up to him and ask him for a ride– he just wanted to be alone.

not completely alone, his subconscious thoughts led him right to your driveway. he sighed, the truth was going to come out sooner or later. he didn't want it to be like this, he didn't want to have to tell you while battered and bruised. he just hoped you would take it lightly.

stiles webbed his way up to your second story window and knocked on your window, slightly wincing from the bruises on his knuckles. he hoped and prayed you weren't asleep as knocked again and again. sooner or later, due to his heightened senses, he heard shuffling around the room.

you had gotten up and cautiously made your way to the window. slowly opening the curtains, you were shocked to see the masked boy you had a crush on at your window. "spiderman?!" you almost shouted but stopped yourself when you remembered the house was sleeping.

he frantically nodded and pointed to the window, telling you to open it.

when he stepped in to your room, you finally see the damage he had taken. the four large slashes really catching your eyes. "holy shit! are you okay? what am i saying, or course you aren't." you rambled on.

spiderman didn't say any words to you, scared you would recognize the voice. "wait a minute," you started. "how did you know where i live? how do you know who i am?"

it was now or never. stiles needed to remove the mask so it wouldn't get weird. he needed to know you were safe.

slowly, he reached his hand the wasn't occupied by holding his side up to his mask and pulled it off his head.

the dark fluffy hair and honey brown eyes were truly recognizable. behind the painful looking bruises and cuts you could see the boy who you loved. for a moment all you saw was stiles, not spiderman, but finally came to your senses. "stiles?!"

"i know, i know. listen, i just–"

"what the hell? how long has this been a thing?"

"um– well, about a couple years." he finally looked you in the eyes with a pity, half-assed smile, "surprise."

"no way," stiles' eyebrow raised. you decided to poke at him a bit. you weren't mad, a bit surprised in all honesty. but you can discuss all this later after you help clean him up. "you're not cool enough." a smirk almost present.

"wha–" stiles stared before you interrupted him.

"im kidding." you say with a small bit of chuckle. "now," you say looking at his cuts concerned. "what the hell happened to you."

while stiles explained the fight and this man so called named "grizzly", you were cleaning and stitching up his cuts. you needed him to take off his suit so you could have more access to all of his cuts. this left him in only his boxers, which stiles rocked a permanent shade of pink spread across his cheeks.

by the time you finished cleaning up stiles, he looked like the poster child for child safety. "thanks." stiles sheepishly said. between the amount on flinching and blood, you're surprised neither you or stiles didn't pass out.

"its no problem. now, explain everything."

so that's what stiles did. he told you how he was bit by a radioactive spider, he explained all of his new powers, and even explained some of the villains he fought. "still think im not cool enough." stiles said teasing you as he picked up on your amazed expression throughout the storytelling.

"yeah, yeah." you let out a small laugh. "i just did a load of laundry, some of your clothes were in there. i can go get them if you want."

"yeah, sure. that's fine."

as you ran downstairs, stiles rehearsed lines in his head like he was performing in a play. he was trying to figure out everything to say to you.

you also have been doing some thinking of your own. none of your feelings have changed, in fact, your feelings have amplified. having your masked "celebrity" crush be your real life crush.

you returned with a pair of sweat shorts and a t-shirt. "i'll just– i'll leave you to change."

before you could even turn the doorknob, you felt something attach onto your back and spin you around. you found yourself chest to chest with stiles. he had webslinged you towards him. his arms wrapped around your waist while yours fall to his chest.

both heavy breathing, stiles speaks up first, "i didn't really think this far through." he gave a small chuckle which you returned.

your smiles faltered and silence fell over you two.

oh, fuck it, you both thought while pulling each other closer till your lips met. the molded together like they were meant to be together.

you both pulled away after needed some air, resting your foreheads against each others. “i’m so glad you turned out to be spider-man.” you said just above a whisper, still not taking your foreheads off each other.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you nodded leaning in for another kiss. you two had made you way onto your bed.

“be mine?” stiles said as he pulled away for air.

you smiled sweetly and nodded, leaning in for another kiss.

after many minutes of kissing, you two were now cuddling in sweet silence. “so am i cool enough now?” stiles brought up. all you did was laugh and nod in response before curling up impossibly closer to him. you had your very own super hero as your boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier.

709 notes · View notes

itsscromp · 5 months

Note

can i have a story where reader is a girl with spider powers and she gets in a fight which red hood comes in to help and that’s there first meeting? and then it turns into coming over to his apartment for medical attention and training sessions (she’s a rookie and he just feels the fatherly urge to teach her how to actually fight) and then movie nights or trips to the library for their shared interest of books tyy have a good one🫶

Jason Todd/Red Hood x reader

Ahh jason, good to see you again my friend, Thank you so damn much for your patience anon, I am sorry for the delay on this. But here is your request :D if its ok with you, can I do it as a gender neutral reader ??. Word count:726

You began to hone your abilities by the time you were about 15, Fearing for your safety. Your parents had moved to Gotham City as they were more meta-human friendly compared to the city you were in. Your powers you may ask ?? You had superhuman strength and agility, You also had the ability to sense danger around you and climb walls, and with some tech, you were able to craft you own web shooters.

When you saw the out-of-control crime in Gotham, and with Batman dead, It was up to you to bring peace to the city, so crafting your own suit you began to head out and fend off all the criminals. But one night, you bit more than you can chew as you were surrounded by thieves who were also armed to the damn teeth, no matter how many times you tried to fend them off, you couldn't be able to stop them.

Fearing that this was it, you didn't see one thief get grappled and pulled away, and then another person dropped down in front of you, wearing a red mask and he was built like a Brickhouse.

"Get behind me kid !!" He said as he pulled out his dual pistols.

"I can fight too !!" You turned around and saw more thieves emerge from trucks, so the two began to fight together, stopping the group. You and the mystery man were like a well-oiled machine, like you two just clicked like two puzzle pieces.

Once you two defeated the enemies, the two then made their way to a nearby roof top and caught their breaths before introducing each other properly.

"Holy shit that was awesome !!!" You said excitedly fist pumping the air.

"What are you doing out here kid ?? You can't just go around playing hero" he warned, but it was more of concern from how young you were.

"Dude I've done this for almost two weeks now and no one has had any... OW !!!" You felt a sharp pain in the side of your torso, looking at it, you saw they must've gotten you and you didn't feel it.

"Crap, come on I'll patch you up" The man offered, which you accepted. Bringing you to his apartment he took off his mask, you saw the scar on his cheek as he came back with the first aid kit.

"Lift the shirt up a bit" He asked which you obliged, gently hissing at the pain when the material let go off the wound and got under way.

"What's your name kid ??" You didn't say anything fearing he could be working for someone else. "Relax, I'm not gonna tattle on you, I'm in the same boat as you" He chuckled.

"Y/n" You said quietly.

"Jason... But if we run into each other on the streets again, It's red hood"

"For me, Its *superhero name*"

"You know kid, you're not so bad out there, but some things can be improved on"

"So you're gonna become my coach now ??" You chuckled

"Maybe just maybe"

After which, he began to help train you, learning new techniques and fighting styles. In return, you shared some of your smarts with your gadgets and whatnot. He didn't know why he offered to train you, he just felt a sense of... familial essence in him to wanting to help you.

But overtime it grew to more than just training, It became movie nights and trips to the library where you gushed about your favourite books.

"Dude you haven't read paper towns, It's one of my favourite books of all time" You practically shoved the book in his face.

"Alright alright I'll give it a go" He chuckled, taking the book. "If you give this book a go" He then handed a book to you called the terminal list. "Deal"

For movie nights, it depends on what genre you two were feeling like this week you two were feeling like horror, You gathered some movies. "Ok I got black Christmas, Nightmare on Elm Street and M3GAN."

"I haven't seen M3GAN, let's give that a go" He smiled softly and sat down on the couch, throwing a blanket over the two of you as the movie played.

You were grateful for the mentorship and friendship that came with Jason, You were incredibly grateful for him.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd x reader #red hood gotham knights #gotham knights #red hood #red hood x reader

50 notes · View notes

darkk-academic · 2 years

Text

Chaos

[Part I] [Part II]

[Five Hargreeves x Reader]

Summary : A very chaotic reunion.

Warning : None.

Chaos isn't something Five Hargreeves would choose willingly. Ever.

He wants a break.

From being a child superhero, to getting stuck in the apocalypse, then the journey of being an assassin, and proceeding to prevent the aforementioned apocalypse.

Him and his mind have been on a never-ending marathon.

So pardon him if he wants to take a step back and just relax.

This road trip was supposed to be the first step.

Was. Because Klaus derailed his plan.

Although, he'd admit that it hasn't been entirely unpleasant, as he waits for Klaus by the car, he concurs that this trip so far is nice.

The green field stretching around him, the subtle caress of sunshine, the gentle breeze, the complete absence of Homo sapiens. It's all very relaxing.

There's a sound. The distinctive sound made by cows. A cow's moo, to be precise.

His gaze trails over towards the sound— cattle grazing peacefully. He smiles, taking a deep breathe—

And promptly chokes.

Chaos isn't something Five Hargreeves would choose willingly. Ever.

But that doesn't mean, Chaos would show him the same courtesy.

Because Chaos, it seems, has a taste for him.

Deceptive in the appearance, well mixed among the shades of brown, black, and white. There, amid the serene creatures, stands chaos incarnate—

You.

Don't, his mind warns.

And of course, he won't. This is supposed to be his retirement. Why would he want to turn that upside down? Ridiculous notion, really. He would not—

His mouth has a mind of its own because it has already parted and yelled your name.

His voice echoes. Your name echoes. And if he must be dramatic, then the time has come to a standstill.

In a blink, your head snaps in his direction.

You blink. Once. Twice.

A grin spreads across your face—and he's startled by the confusing thought that whether it's really the sun that's shining or it's just you.

"FIVE!"

And you're running. Hands wide open. His eyes widen—feeling like a man standing before a bull, red cloth in hand—You're running, running towards him.

You are closer. And closer. Closer—

You trip.

Five sighs. In a few long strides, he closes the distance between you two.

Hand gripping you above the elbow, he hauls you up. "Are you okay?"

"Okay? No, I am not!" You reply, though your expression remains ecstatic. "I am—I am—I am," your brows crinkle in thought.

"Are you—"

"Phantasmagorical!" You exclaim. Fingers curling around his arms, you shake him a bit. "I'm phantasmagorical because I've met you. Been soo long."

Squealing, you hug him.

His palm is on your back in an instant, supporting you as you stand on your tiptoes.

He breathes in, willing his muscles to uncoil. It takes a few seconds before he lets himself rest his chin on your head.

All too soon, you release him.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, lest he did something stupid like draw you back again.

"What are you doing here?"

"Where?" You tilt your head, nose scrunching in a way he has always found adorable.

"Among the," gesturing towards the surroundings, "Amish."

"Ah yes," you nod, in a sage voice, "For peace."

He quirks a brow. "Really?"

"No."

A smile threatens to curl at his lips. "Then?"

"So there's this husband-wife duo, and they were my neighbours in the city. And then they stole stuff from my house. So, they're not husband-wife duo but thief duo, which honestly I kinda respect—"

"So you came back to get your stuff back?" He queries, cutting off what would undoubtedly be a long ramble.

You nod in an absentminded fashion, before snapping out of it. "What? No!"

He exhales in exasperation. "Then why?"

"I came here to get Lila's kraken plushie—"

"Wait, Lila is here?"

"Yeah, we came together—"

"What's she doing—"

Your fingers snap his lips shut together. Literally.

"No Lila. Pay attention to me. I'm here." And as if to prove that you are indeed here, you start jumping in front of him, hand open like wings, chanting, 'eyes on me, eyes on me, eyes on me.'

As if his eyes are even capable of being anywhere but at you when you're near him.

Rolling his eyes, he grips your 'wings' and pulls you closer.

"I'm never not looking at you," his mouth seems to have found a mind of its own.

There's a flush rising on your cheeks, and he feels a twinge of pride at extracting such a reaction.

"As you should," you say.

His confidence abandons him in a sudden manner when you peer up at him through your lashes.

He looks away, stepping back. Clearing his throat. "Need any help retrieving the stolen item?"

"Oh, I got it back on the first day I arrived here."

"Then why are you still here?"

"Having a bit of fun with the thief duo."

"So, antagonising them, and being a general chaos," he surmises.

"Haven't I told you, the thing about chaos is that—"

"It's fair, yeah, you have."

"You know what's not fair?"

"What would that be?"

In response, you settle your hand on his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair on the nape.

He suppresses a shiver.

"Having figured out that the more the love, the more the chaos. And then not being able to confess, for almost two years. Because, you see, it happened after I caused a bar fight after telling a man that this other man was making goo-goo eyes at his boyfriend. And then a brawl started, and I thought, 'huh, look what chaos love can cause.' And then I realised that If I'm chaos, then love is you—"

"What?" His voice is a whisper.

"You are the fuse of my chaos. And I would really like to be the fuse of your love, which is only fair—"

"What?" His brain is lagging.

"I love you!"

"What?" White noise.

You huff, standing on your tiptoes, face dangerously close to his—his heart is travelling all around his body in a frenzy—and his eyes close.

His nose stings.

You… You bit his nose.

His eyes flutter open, fixing on you. Rubbing a hand over the ache. "You absolute menace."

"Your menace."

Well, that's just unfair. Especially that impish smile of yours. "My menace are you now?"

"No."

Oh, for fuck's sake—

"But I want to be," you continue. "Will you let me be?"

Maybe his response is a bit too quick when he says :

"Yes," relief apparent in his voice. Tugging you near him, enveloping you in an embrace.

"My menace, mine." He words it out loud to solidify this moment, sealing it in the space-time continuum by pressing a kiss against your temple.

You both sway lightly, finding a middle ground between chaos and calm.

But of course, being the magnet for all things chaotic that you are, it doesn't last long.

In a flow, the cows explode and then Klaus is shouting, Amish people chasing him down.

And you?

You are giggling in pure delight. "Oh, isn't this fun?"

He says nothing as he puts you over his shoulder, blinks into the car, and promptly deposits you on the passenger seat.

And as he drives, he glances at you and Klaus— rambling and laughing and causing a ruckus.

Chaos isn't something Five Hargreeves would choose willingly. Ever.

But, if it's you, he'd make an exception.

..................................................................................

A/N :

And here is part two.

Hope you guys enjoyed this.

Thankyou! ❤

[ @slut4fictionalcharacters28 It's here. ]

#five hargreeves #tua five #number five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves imagine #tua #the umbrella academy #tua season 3 #tua3 #x reader

476 notes · View notes

maybeitsalivescribbles · 1 month

Text

Hero x Villain Masterlist

Recurring Characters:

These Two Dorks Masterlist (mostly fluff but angst looms on the horizon, hurt/comfort)

Vampire Hero Masterlist (black comedy, affectionate whump parody, lots of torture attempts/mentions even if that rarely turns out the way the torturer planned)

Others:

Reverse chronological order. (prompt) indicates when the original idea is from someone else.

A taste of revenge: Supervillain doesn’t really mind the three young heroes who keep coming after him, until the fateful day everyone goes for ice cream. (ask)

Random Word Prompts: What it says on the tin. Marvel as I turn one random word into a bunch of H/V prompts.

Through the mirror : What’s the thing to do after having an epic fight with the local Villainess ? Drinking a couple of beers with her, of course. It’s only polite.

Crash Meeting (prompt): Detective tries to bring down Villain. They don’t succeed, but what they’ve just discovered might be even more important.

Jack-in-a-box Surprise: A bunch of civilians are stuck in the room with a villain taking the form of their worst fears. Good luck with that.

Pounding Headache (sicktember): Thief has a bad day. The burglary didn’t turn well, Villain turned on them, what better moment for a migraine to begin?

Gilded Cage (prompt): Villain has Hero trapped in a ghastly – wait actually, it’s a pretty cool apartment. That’s a trick, right?

Who dies, who lives (prompt): You’ve always been a fan of Superhero, and you don’t take too well that they’ve just been killed. Where’s your partner anyway?

To make a right (prompt): A gritty detective informs his unlikely friend and unanimously beloved superhero Sunblade that distasteful things were made in his name.

Mind-Melting (prompt) part 1 and 2: Hero has a lot to do between an amnesic Supervillain, an emo teen Sidekick, and a cat. One of them is much more powerful than the others. One of my first posts here so the style is, ah, certainly made of words.

Detective x Thief

Cold Case (for sicktember): A detective gets hired to find a stolen painting. Unfortunately, he catches a cold before catching the culprits.

Cold Meeting (prompt): This detective really wishes this client would leave him in peace. He might have secrets of his own.

And now for something mildly different:

Whump/Horror Masterlist.

Fantasy Masterlist

#hero x villain #hero villain community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #villain and hero #heroes and villains #hero and villain #original fiction #creative writing #my writing #masterlist #detective x villain #thief x detective

26 notes · View notes

the-illiterate-pirate · 11 months

Text

No Rest for the Wicked (Villain AU La Squadra)

WARNING: Series focuses on some dark content, such as murder and torture, yandere characters, stalking, kidnapping, and may contain nsfw writing and dubious consent

The hero association "Passione" takes pride in protecting Italy and it's citizens. From the everyday purse thief, to carjackers... To the underbelly of Italy's society of villains with their arrays of dangerous powers and abilities. But with such strong super heros like Golden Experience and Napoli's own Sticky Fingers, surely you'll be safe.

Right?

Hello! Hi! Welcome to my Super Villain LS AU! V excited to finally post this because the idea has been molding in the back of my brain for a good year now. Each member will get multiple chapters for their own stories, maybe even mixing together every once in a while, I'm not sure when I'll be able to officially start posting any of them but in the meantime PLEASE ask me questions about this au if you're interested. Especially if it has anything to do with outfits and costumes because that's my favorite part hehe. *Au won't include Sorbet and Gelato x Reader but they do make their appearances!

File: Somebody's Leavin’

Alias: Little Feat

Formaggio, originally the low fame superhero "Little Feat" has only recently turned to a life of crime, but proves to be a formidable foe. This change now allows him to use his abilities to their fullest extent. With a single scratch, Formaggio is allowed to shrink any living being at will, along with manipulating the size of inanimate objects as well. With a mix of these abilities as well as hand to hand combat, Little Feat originally scouted lesser populated areas and dealt with lesser threats such as purse snatches and bank heists. Now, Formaggio uses these abilities without consequence, reaping chaos. Around this same time, a missing persons case has opened up. The disappearance includes a barista working at a popular cafe in the city Little Feat used to protect. Coincidence? Still unsure.

File: Somebody's Watching Me

Alias: Man in the Mirror

People have reported seeing faces in the reflections of their homes. When called in for police sketching, all reports include a very similar man for each victim. Well built, with fair skin and dark hair, with goggles and his lower face hidden behind a beak shaped mask. He has been titled "The Man in the Mirror", otherwise known as Illuso. Most people that have been visited by the man have stated finding his "calling card" within the frames of their mirrors. These people have wound up dead. The Man in the Mirror seems to only attack the rich and those in power, so citizens who have seen him are asked to stay calm, but alert public authority immediately.

File: Happy Together

Alias: Beach Boy

Pesci is stated to be a freshly turned villain, but despite his late start proves to be difficult to challenge as he's been found shadowing the villain "Grateful Dead", a formidable evil that has been terrorizing Italy for some time now. Though his abilities are ideally for tracking, Pesci makes up for it with brute strength and his incredible size. Studies report that not a single casualty has happened during brushes with Beach Boy, but the same can't be said for the future. It's only a matter of time for the brute to turn away from his humanity and officially become one with the super villain underground.

File: Vermillion

Alias: Grateful Dead

Prosciutto, otherwise known as "Grateful Dead", is a well known and quite popular villain. Despite his title, women and men alike fold at the knee due to his charming appearance and suave personality. Prosciutto doesn't like to get his hands dirty, but will do what the job needs him to. He mainly focuses on the gambling scene and a chain of bars and sultry clubs. His abilities are lesser known, and are quite confusing to understand how they work, but it's easy enough to say if a contract of his doesn't end with a bullet in the head, they're rotting into the dirt instead.

File: Crimewave

Alias: Babyface

Babyface rarely leaves the villains compound, and when he does it's almost always for business. He goes under the alias "Melone" and owns a booming unisex cosmetics line titled "Molto Dolce Productions", enjoyed by men and women and everyone else from all ages as his makeups and serums are vegan friendly and animal cruelty free. As Babyface, he prides himself with a remote controlled army of handmade robots who do his biding for him. His so called "children" range from entirely metallic suits and grotesque cyborg abominations. He lives in a laboratory underground and spends most of his time creating life.

File: Love is like Oxygen

Alias: Gently Weeps

Ghiaccio never wanted to become a villain, but was born into the life of crime. Abandoned by his own family, he stole to survive, he cheated people out of money and food, and at the crisp age of seventeen Ghiaccio was officially brought into the villain hierarchy. In his years of work he's rose through the ranks and has become the villain known as Gently Weeps, and uses cryokinesis. Under a fake name he pretends to be a citizen, walking among Italy's streets, trying to live a normal life as best as he can, finishing school and even joining a gym to help with his icy temper.

File: Enter Sandman

Alias: Metallica

Not much is known about him, as Metallica keeps to the shadows and has never been seen by the naked eye. He lives only to kill, every murder happening in the dead of night. Not a sound to be heard, save the faint jingle of a bell. They say before you die at his hands, you're stared down by the blood red eyes of the devil himself. Each contract dead at his hands are found with their throat cut open, and a pair of bloody scissors settled on their chest.

#no rest for the wicked au #golden wind #la squadra x reader #la squadra #jjba x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #pesci x reader #prosciutto x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero x reader #yandere posting #yandere jjba

79 notes · View notes

takenbyheartstrings · 2 years

Text

KEEP YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER

summary: you and peter hate each other, but spider-man and black cat are close as ever. what happens when you and peter are forced to spend time together and the two worlds bleed together?

pairing: peter parker x fem!black cat!reader

warnings: SMUT!! (extended warnings under the cut), fluff, angsty, can be read as any peter!

word count: 12k (2.3k is smut <3)

extended smut warnings: pretty vanilla, fingering, oral (fem), unprotected sex (pulls out) wrap it before you tap it! that should be it i think <3

If you could choose one person in the whole entire world to kill. You’d choose Peter Parker.

He’s an annoying, unbearable, know it all, who’s way too cocky. Who is nice to everybody but you. You thought it was strange at first, but then you learnt not to question it. You didn’t know why he hated you, but you eventually learned how to hate him. Eventually he’s hatred for you turned into your hatred for him. Nit-picking on everything he did. Not letting him have a break. Much like he hadn’t let you have one slither of fresh air since the moment you had met him.

If you could choose one person in the whole entire world to be stuck in an elevator with. You’d choose Spider-Man.

Easily your best friend. Your favourite person. He’s kind, sweet and cocky, yet not in the way Peter is. He gives you those moments away from Peter to forget the dread before going back home and remembering everything, overthinking constantly. But he’s funny and he’s self-assured and he has every right to be. He stops these villians, he stops crime, he’s your partner in stopping those crimes. You were known as Black Cat.

Your powers surfaced when your father died. It felt like everything in your life had turned upside down, nothing went your way anymore; like there was a constant raincloud over your head warning you that something was going to happen to you. It followed you day after day. It used to be unbearable… until you learnt to control it. Your bad luck suddenly turned into everyone else’s bad luck. You became a hero. In meeting Spider-Man, you learnt that you could use these powers for good.

You remember it like yesterday, meeting him on a rooftop, you used to be a petty thief. You used to steal art that your father had sold. Trying to collect pieces of him back. He was an artist, the best artist he could’ve been. These paintings belonged to the rich. They had taken them, so why not take them back?

You were doing exactly that... and when you met the arachnid, you didn’t fight him, and he didn’t fight you. He saw you were young like him. He saw the anger in your eyes as he spoke. He told you that you could come back from this. He convinced you that you didn’t have to live this life. He convinced you to be a good person. He convinced you to help him stop crime.

The two people were very different. It never even occurred to you that they could be the same person. Never in your lifetime would you had thought that the confident, sassy, superhero, could be that fucking nerd that makes fun of you. That you argue with every single day – fuck banter... This was different. This was hard hitting insults that would make both of you overthink at night. That would make both of you stay awake thinking about every possible outcome, everything you could’ve said, everything you wanted to say. Everything that would’ve made the end of today different.

Upon meeting Peter, you honestly think you’d only got a totally of eight hours of sleep-in total. If Peter was the same, you couldn’t tell. Hopefully he couldn’t see how tired you were either, because then all the makeup that you pound onto your face in the morning would be a fucking waste of time and if he knew you’d probably just stop all together.

The weekday rolled around, and you sat in chemistry. Your least favourite class and probably everyone else’s too (because of you and Peter). You sat next to Peter, and it wasn’t by choice. It was by force. You knew your teacher regretted it as soon as the two of you started arguing over Peter writing down the wrong measurements, which he argued would be correct. You scolded him for not following your instructions. He argued that your instruction was wrong – Mr. Harrington knew he had fucked up, but what’s the point of making a point if you can’t stick to it? He was stubborn enough to leave the two of you next to each other.

Gwen often told you how tired she was of the arguing she was. So did Michelle and Betty. All of them knew Peter. All of them liked Peter. He was so nice to all of them – so why not to you?

You honestly acted like you didn’t care. Your friends knew better, though. Your friends knew that in spite of everything that you and Peter had. You questioned why he didn’t like you. He didn’t like you from the moment he met you… why? Why? Why? Why?

The question lived in your head in those sleepless nights – acting like everything was fine. Acting like you were fine, was tiring. But what’s the point? It’s draining when you argue with him, but it gives your normal life purpose. You wake up every single day and you don’t know how the day will go. But you do know that you’ll argue with Peter. Sometimes it was the highlight of your day.

“Hardy.” He says as he sits down, and you shoot him a glare.

“Parker.” You match his seething tone. You’d been having a shitty day already and you didn’t really need this. Not today.

He pulls out his book as Mr. Harrington begins to write on the board. You write with a blue pen – a blue pen that has sparkles in it, a gel pen with glitter. Peter doesn’t know why this catches him off guard. You do it all the time. You write with a pen with sparkles in them. Maybe it’s how it glides on the page as he stares at you writing, how your eyes are twinkling just like the fractures of glitter in the pen.

He snaps out of it so quickly, “What?” You question him, your voice snaps, you’re angry. He can tell you’ve had a shitty day. For some reason, that doesn’t bring as much joy as he thought it would.

“Nothing.” He shrugs, peeling his eyes away from you – it’s reluctant and he doesn’t know why. He’s supposed to hate you. But he’s never really been good at doing that. It’s all just a front. A front he has to uphold just to remain close to you, it’s the only way you’ll speak to him and quite frankly, the only way he’ll ever speak to you.

At the end of the class Mr. Harrington smiles coyly as he pulls out a stack of paper. Which is exactly what you needed. Your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Because this is just what today you needed another reminder that Peter Parker is better than you. Another reminder that he’ll be valedictorian and you won’t be.

Mr. Harrington hands out the tests, dropping both you and Peter’s upside down, in hopes, in prayers, that the two of you won’t exchange marks. That he wouldn’t start another argument between the two of you when you’d both been so quiet today.

You pick up your paper and you want to cheer. You got a ninety-eight. You would’ve preferred full marks. But either way, you thought you’d definitely beaten Peter. You had a gut feeling.

Peter feels bad when he picks up his paper, there’s the number one-hundred circled in big red marker. He looks over at you and feels his heart ache. You’ve had a terrible day.

He knows. He knew from the moment he walked in the door. He doesn’t know why he feels so fucking bad for you. But in reality, he knows you better than anyone. He knows what makes you tick. He knows what pisses you off... when you think of it. That’s the key to knowing someone. Peter would push the buttons that most people would tend to avoid, but that’s why he knew you’d had a bad day, because Peter had only ever seen you mad. But today was different. There was something about the way you spoke. There was something about your eyes and the ghost of a smile you flashed at Michelle, Ned, and Harry. The scowl you had on your face as you sat down and took out the blue pen instead of the purple.

That’s what caught him off guard. The colour.

Peter’s thoughts about you are interrupted by your own condescending tone and coy smirk that doesn’t quite bring you or him the satisfaction either of you were hoping for. Instead, it’s empty and weak.

“Ninety-Eight, Parker.”

Peter swallows his pride, today. Peter knows better than to ruin your day today. Even if you’ve had a shitty day Peter would usually push and push. But today was different. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe it’s because of the colour of your pen – maybe that’s why Peter feels like he’s going to throw up as he speaks a lie from his mouth.

“Damn, I got Ninety-Seven.”

He lies to you, but he doesn’t regret it, not when he sees your genuine smile, fighting the urge to let his own take over the sad look on his face.

“Fucking beat you, Parker.”

Peter doesn’t say anything else when the bells goes after your sentence. The day is finally over. You can finally see Spidey again. He was the real highlight of your day. You got home, did homework and anything else you had to do before seven pm. School got out at three. That gives you four hours.

You live near Peter. In the apartment complex two buildings down. So, the two of you catch the same train. You always stand on the opposite side, your headphones in. Music blasting. You’re sure people all around you can hear what you’re listening too, and you think Peter does the same.

You get off at your stop and so does Peter. You’re so tempted to grapple your way back home, and you would. You want to go into an alley and put on the suit that sits in your bag. But you can’t. Because of Peter fucking Parker.

You’re quick to reach your bedroom, throwing your bag onto your bed.

Your room is neat and painted blue. Your bedsheets are white and blue, and you wished your suit was the same, but it’s black and white. Like a cat. Your curtains are white, and they have a sparkle. Though, there are posters on your walls of movies like Star Wars or TV shows like The Mandalorian.

Ned often tells you to come over for movie night, where him and Peter watch Star Wars all the time. He tries to convince you by telling you MJ and Harry come along, but it’s not much. They’re all friends with Peter and you’re not. You also don’t want to ruin their movie nights by being unpleasant and arguing with Peter.

The posters are accompanied by pictures of you and your friends and fairy lights. Your bed sits in the corner, so the posters and pictures surround it. Your bookshelf is organised by colour, and you’ve got this large soft white rug that covers almost all of the hardwood floor underneath it.

You pull your homework out of your bag, so sure that it’ll take you all the way until seven pm. The light outside is starting to dim, the sky is beginning to get dark. You turn your desk light on and notice that it’s six-fifty. You shut your books; you have one question left but you’re way too excited to see Spidey again.

You slide on your suit. Latex and fur. Skin-tight. It makes you feel confident. Nobody can see your face; nobody can see you in the night. That’s why you’re not afraid to fight. Because you’re anonymous. Nobody knows you’re Black Cat.

You meet Spidey on the roof top, grappling yourself up onto the building. You smile, running into his arms. Your mask covers your eyes, but it covers you enough so that Peter doesn’t know who you actually are. Your features are usually different anyway. Your eyes are softer, and your smile is wide. Whereas Peter only sees your glare. The way your eyes fume with anger.

Spider-Man wraps his arms around you. Pulling you closer. Peter’s bad days are made better by you. He’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. That he’s got feelings for you. Your flirty demeanour and attitude turns him on. But you’re also the kindest and sweetest – the softest person he’s ever met. He swears, if he didn’t know you could fight, if he didn’t know you could hurt someone – he’d believe you’d never harm a fly.

The hug lasts longer than usual. Both of you gripping onto each other for dear life, “Bad day?” Peter questions you.

“Y-yeah.” You want to cry but you pull away quickly before you can dampen his suit, “You?”

“Yeah.” He nods solemnly, he gives a smile, “But hey! Now we get to patrol, right?”

You nod matching his grin, “Yeah, exactly… did you end up finding that Maggia warehouse?”

“I did. I’ll swing us over there, but we have to be stealthy. We can’t drag any attention to ourselves, or we’ll be done.”

You and Peter had been trying to take down the Maggia for almost a year. They know the two of you are after them. Which makes your life way harder than it has to be. Tombstone is a danger to this city – much like Fisk. But Peter had put him behind bars before he had met Black Cat. But people like Tombstone need to be put behind bars before more people die.

You smile, holding onto Peter again, “Take us away, Spidey.”

The two of you are inside the warehouse. God, you want to get out of here. It’s making you nervous.

“Spidey, what if this isn’t a good idea?” You question the arachnid.

Peter shakes his head, “No. We have to do this. We have to take on Tombstone.”

You know he’s right, but everything in your body is telling you to turn around and run. If you were still on the other side maybe, you would’ve. Your instincts always tell you to run – your fight or flight is always to run. Maybe it makes you a shitty hero. Maybe it just tells you that you’re a natural thief. But the Spider keeps you grounded. If you lost him. If you stopped knowing him, you’d probably turn back to that life of crime and that thrill of not being caught. Taking back what was rightfully yours.

You nod, “Let’s just get this over with,”

The two of you are the perfect pair. It’s mind blowing how in sync the two of you can work. Your identities keeping you hidden. Yet, if the two of you were to know who the other was, you’d probably hate each other all over again… or maybe the two of you would finally set aside your differences.

The most you’d ever seen of his face was his mouth, when the two of you get pizza after a long night of patrolling. Sitting on a random rooftop. Enjoying each other’s company. Talking about each other’s day. You’ve alluded to Peter once in conversation. Mentioning there was a boy at school who made fun of you. Peter had said the same thing about a girl. You obviously didn’t know it was you who he was talking about, but you went on a long tangent about how he shouldn’t listen to her (you), and how she (you) should go fuck herself (still you). He said the same thing about himself – safe to say you are not following the advice you had given yourselves without the knowledge.

Your actions are almost replicated. As Peter webs enemies up to walls and has them hanging in nets made out of his web, completely out of sight from anyone on the ground. You were incapacitating them. Wrapping your arms and mouth around the ones Peter couldn’t reach. Keeping them quiet, setting them on the ground and when Peter would reach you. He’d web them to the roof with a number of webs.

That’s how the two of you worked together.

Once you had most of Tombstones men incapacitated, the two of you move throughout the warehouse. You can finally get a good look at it. There’s an endless number of cars and oil tanks, and the air smells of it too.

As the two of you walked up to his door, ready to pounce. Ready to take him out. But the world clearly had other plans for you at least. Because although Peter has his Spidey-Sense. You’ve got nothing… and he warned you too late.

“KITTEN!” Was the last word that you heard as the whole world went dark, that and the thwip! of a web shot out of Peter’s wrist. A sharp pain pulses through your body.

You woke up on the rooftop where you and Spider-Man would meet. He was sitting there, and you were wrapped in a blanket. Your wound still hurt, but your suit was cut, and your goggles were latched to your face, the suction getting strong – they’re slightly fogged up.

You meet Peters eyes as you sit up with a grunt, wanting to cry through the pain surging through you. Appreciating the gesture of him patching you up without getting you naked or without taking off your goggles. The only downside, apart from the bullet, was that you have to fix your suit… and fixing your suit is expensive.

“Fuck,” you mutter carefully looking down at your side.

“It’ll heal but it’ll hurt.” Peter speaks as he turns around which allows you to remove your goggles.

You can feel the red circles around your eyes, you remove them for a few moments, knowing you’ll have to put them back on in a minute. As you do you feel the familiar sting, “What happened to me?” You question the boy.

You hear him take in a rigid, broken, breath, “Tombstone shot you.” It’s quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. His whisper leaves his lips as you limp carefully, placing a hand on his back, wrapping your arms around me.

“What happened?” You’re not asking about you anymore. You’re asking about him. What he did when Tombstone shot you. His eyes look at you, and although you can only see the lenses; his eyes absent but you feel like you can see them. All you can see are his lips. The fabric of his mask bunched up over them.

He turns into your body, it’s sudden, but his head falls into your arms, “I got out of there.” His grip on you is tight and the bullet wound isn’t kind to you, it hurts, but you can’t tell him that because then he’ll stop, “I got you out of there first and I- I tried to web him up but I was doing a bad job… This is all my fault.”

You give him a gentle smack on the head, “Spidey.” You say stern, “None of this is your fault.”

“But if I had just warned you-”

“NO!” You raise your voice, taking a seat next to him, “I don’t have a sixth sense, okay. But it doesn’t mean you have to be responsible for me. You care about me, Spidey, but I can’t have you guilty over me of all people. My life isn’t yours to worry about.”

He shakes his head, “You’re my friend-”

“That doesn’t matter.” You say softly, “You don’t have to worry about me like this. Don’t have guilt over the things you can’t control, Spidey.”

“What if I can’t help it? What if I can’t help the fact that I care so much about you? About us?”

There’s a fire in his voice as he speaks, ignite, shining bright. You swear you can see an orange glow around him as he talks about you. Each word falling off of his lip with want and need for something more and suddenly it doesn’t feel like the two of you are talking about the bullet that flew straight through your body.

You can’t meet his eyes; you can’t meet those lenses that move as he speaks passionately about his desire without saying a single word. But you can’t act on this because if you become more than his friend... more than his partner, there’s no stopping it. You’d have to reveal a layer of yourself that you swore you would never let yourself show.

You’d learnt to keep people at arm’s length, and it was dangerous letting the spiderling get close to you because today was the first warning. The first wakeup call that anything could happen to either of you or both of you were so close, so tight, that it would kill you if something were to happen to him.

You realise you’re looking down at your legs rather than his face, determined not to look, but you can’t stop yourself, “Spidey...” You trail off softly.

Your faces are beckoned closer, you can feel the heat of his breath on your lips, and everything is happening in slow motion, and you feel like everything is calling you to stop because you can’t let this happen. You can’t let him feel guilty if something more happens to you than a stupid gunshot to your side. You’re battling with yourself over whether to place your lips on his or run away.

“Stop.” You whisper quietly as you look over at Peter, “You’re shaking the table.”

He rolls his eyes, “I would stop if I could help it.”

You turn to face him, “Can you just be nice to me for one second? Is that so hard?”

He fakes his pout, “It really is. I’m so sorry.” He’s voice is dripping with condensation, not letting you escape his eyes that say he really doesn’t care if you’re inconvenienced by him.

“Are you really, though?” You question knowing the answer and you can hear your voice start to raise, the volume getting louder.

“Right because you’d stop if I asked. You’re the most hypocritical person I know.” His tone seethes with hatred towards you.

You scoff ready to pounce, opening your mouth to speak, hypocritical? You are not hypocritical.... you are not hypocritical... right?... right?

There he goes again, getting in your head, making you question yourself – but you know better than to show it as you get ready to fire back but a voice cuts through the two of you. Making the two of you jump – and it’s angry. Angrier than you and Peter both are and you can finally hear Mr. Harrington just snap.

“WOULD THE TWO OF YOU STOP?!” The tone, the volume of his voice, all of it send you and Peter into a shock that makes both of you paralysed; unable to move... scared, “I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ARGUING!”

He stalks up to your desk, “I have let the two of you argue and fight, but this is the last straw. This has been going on for months. So... on Thursday afternoon, the two of you have detention here. The two of you will be cleaning the room of its filth after the Chemistry practical exams. Are we clear?”

Both of you nod your heads, but Mr. Harrington doesn’t bite.

“Are we clear?” He questions, his voice is firm, and it makes the two of you all the more scared.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington.” You’re short to follow Peter’s words but they’re mumbled anyway.

“Phones.” He speaks.

“What do you mean?” Peter questions.

“Give me your phones. After you’re done with your detention you can grab them from my office. I won’t be there, so just let yourselves in.”

You and Peter reluctantly hand Mr. Harrington your phones and you feel a pit in your stomach.

You didn’t know how long it would take the two of you to clean up, but you knew it would be a long few hours you’d probably have to spend with Peter. You’re praying that you can get it done within the hour and see Spidey, but you doubt that’s going to happen.

As Thursday rolls around, the two of you stay back after your exam, you’re supposed to clean up after every single test, but you think Mr. Harrington disregarded that rule because the amount of test tubes lying around the room is just gross and the room smells like chemicals.

He leaves the two of you to it, shutting the door behind him. You turned to face Peter with an awkward smile, “I can take the right side of the room and you can take the left. Hopefully we’ll be done by the hour.” You’re crossing your fingers but you’re not sure it’ll happen.

“Right, because your measurement of time is always right.” He shoots at you with a glare, and you fight the urge to slap him in the face.

“One time, Peter.” You speak through gritted teeth.

He scoffs, “One time that fucked us up for the whole semester.”

It’s a pang of guilt that hits you, your eyes soften before sharpening once more, Peter sees the way you deflate for a moment and decides not to push it any more than he already has. You don’t say anything either, making your way over to your side of the room.

The only sounds in the room are the taps turning on and the squelch of the sponge and soap that bleeds to the bottom of test tubes. There’s this tension in the room, awkward? Yeah, you’d guess so. But there’s something else too – you want to talk to Peter. Maybe it’s because the tension that’s in the air is something you could cut with a knife. Except for the fact that there’s not much you could say. Your stomach feels weird because of it, and you want it to go away, but you know it won’t.

An hour passes and Peter is right – your measurement of time is one of your greatest weaknesses. You look over at him as he furrows his eyebrows, trying to clean a stain off of a beaker. You debate in your head whether or not you should help him since you’ve only got two of your own left and he’s got three.

Against all your thoughts you walk over to him and take the beaker from his hands.

Peter doesn’t say anything as he watches you clean the glass, using one of the cleaning products to scrub it off. Instead of a cutting edge glare his eyes are soft as he watches you; admires you. Admires the furrow of your own brows and the fury in your eyes as you attempt to do the same thing he had. The way your hairs a bit of a mess, some loose strands of hair sticking out of place. How you bite your lip as you focus. His mind starts to wonder to how he could be the one doing that – biting your lip. He wonders why he’s thinking like this, but he doesn’t stop himself. But what makes his heart do backflips is the way you smile triumphantly as you complete the task of removing the stain from the beaker.

“I wonder what they had to do to get a stain like that on there.” Peter says absent minded. You had expected him not to say anything at all, but you grab another one of his beakers.

“They’ve been sitting here for hours... which is, gross, so, it’s not surprising.” You shrug as you meet his eyes.

You can see a small smile upon his lips, but it’s barely anything, the corners of his lip quirk the tiniest bit, “Glad we didn’t have to do this experiment again.”

You chuckle as you scrub the glass, “Right! It was such a pain.”

“Especially when you got the time wrong,” You and Peter spoke in unison, and you finally realised what was going on.

The kindness you had offered Peter and the kindness that he had offered you was short and sweet, but it couldn’t happen again. You scoff shaking your head. You knew he was the one who had messed up that assignment.

“It was you.” You scrubbed the beaker harder this time; Peter was scared it was going to break underneath your anger.

He sighs, “Mr. Harrington said it was you, remember.”

You freeze for a moment, there wasn’t an excuse for that one. The teacher made the call, no matter if he was right or wrong, “Well Mr. Harrington is sexist, then... an incel, if you will.” You glare at the boy in front of you, setting down the beaker you had cleaned and moved over to your side of the room again.

It had been another half-hour since you had last checked the time. When you finally cleaned your last beaker, the look on Peters face was one of relief. The two of you began grabbing your things and making your way towards the door.

Your hand wrapped around the knob and twisted it, but it didn’t open. You tried again and nothing. You and Peter were stuck.

“What?” Peter questions you.

“The door...” You grunt, trying again, “Won’t...” Again, “Open.” You let go of the handle with a long breath.

“Let me try.” Peter walks over to the door and jiggles the handle, trying it again and again like the times you had already attempted.

You and Peter were stuck.

“Fuck!” Peter huffs, slamming his fist into the door making you jump.

You sit down on the floor in front of the desk, “We don’t even have our phones.” You throw your head back, slamming the back of it into the table a few times.

Peter sits next to you, looking at you as you pull your legs up to your chest. He does the same, both of your heads leaning against the desk.

About a three quarters of an hour had passed. The room feels weird, and you and Peter haven’t said a single word to each other. You stole some pens and paper from the desk and begun drawing Peter in all of his misery; in all of your shared misery.

There was something soothing about drawing him. Like he’s got the perfect face for it. It’s not anywhere close to even. He’s got scars on his face and his eyebrows are slightly bushy. His eyes are wide, and his lips are leaning more towards the thin side but are also quite plump. His hair flops over his face in all of his dishevelled mess. His jawline is sharp, and his nose is actually quite perfect, not too small, and not too big, but his ears lean to the larger side of the scale.

Luckily for you, Peter hasn’t noticed you drawing him. He’s got his head in his chemistry book, doing his homework. Which is what you would be doing if you hadn’t left your chemistry book in your locker. You promised yourself you would go grab it so you could do the work because it was due tomorrow, but it didn’t look like that would be happening. The clock on the wall had almost reached eight pm and you and Peter had settled for the reality that you’d be here all night.

You feel lucky that you’d worn a hoodie so you could at least use that as a pillow.

The room isn’t dark, but you and Peter didn’t want to turn on the overhead lights. You hadn’t talked about it – it was more of a silent agreement because you both turned on lamps.

Peter shuts his textbook, startling you slightly and making his way over to you. He takes notice of your drawing. How you’ve drawn him. He didn’t know you could draw. Peter didn’t know much about you – he thought he didn’t know much about you. He thought the two of you had nothing in common at all.

“You’re good at drawing.” He says quietly, pulling a chair to sit next to you.

You bite your lip, you don’t look up at him, you don’t meet his eyes, “Thanks.” You mutter softly, “Is there anything you’re good at?”

You ask him a question. Partially because you like the sound of his voice. Partially because it releases whatever tension is in the room.

Peter needs a moment to think about it. Other than school and Spider-Man, there’s not really much. He could tell you he also draws, but that would be a blatant lie. You can feel his body shrug.

“Not really. I’m okay at video games.” He chuckles.

You smile as you continue to draw, taking a moment to turn your head to face his. You see how he’s looking at you. There’s no hate in this moment. There’s no anger. There’s just the two of you. You feel as though it won’t last long, because the two of you only know how to argue. You don’t know how to be friends.

You continue to meet his eyes for a moment, with a hum, you speak again, “That’s not bad. I’m not good at much either, there’s school or drawing... I’ve never been good at much. I’ve never been able to be good at anything... bad luck kinda just follows me wherever I go, y’know?” You can feel yourself opening up to Peter and you’re not stopping yourself. You’re giving him more ammo.

Why are you giving him more ammo?

He sighs, “I get that. There’s like three things I’m good at.”

You turn your head back to your paper and for a second, there’s a comfortable silence. Until Peter decides to talk again – you knew this wouldn’t last long.

“I’m sorry.” Peter states suddenly and your head whips to face him.

“For what?” Your tone is curious, but mad, why would he be apologising... did you want him to apologise for something?

He shakes his head softly, leaning his arms on his knees, letting his head rest on them, “Because I'm the one that got us into this mess.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your gaze away, trying to focus on your drawing, “Yeah you are.”

Peter huffs, “You know what?... While we’re here, what’s your fucking problem with me?”

Your head snaps back to face him again, “My fucking problem with you? God, Peter, you’re the one who hated me first! I should be asking you that question. You never stop nit-picking on everything I do and you’re constantly the voice in my head telling me that I’m worthless! You’re nice to everybody but me!”

You’re standing up now and Peter matches your stance, “My god, do not throw all of that in my face! The first day I met you, you were boasting that you were the smartest person here and it made me feel like absolute shit and then you started comparing your marks with mine.”

Peter stalks closer to you as you move back into the side-bench. The room is darker now that Peter had turned off his lamp when he had decided to come and sit next to you. The tension that built in the room from earlier is only growing and growing and it’s going to explode. You can feel is as Peter moves closer to you, both of you mad. Both of you seething with anger. Both of you are breathing heavy.

“You constantly make me feel like shit, Hardy.” He says as you’re pinned, and you can feel his breath on your face. It smells like mint; he smells like wood and cinnamon and it’s the only thing you can bear to breathe, “and guess what? I... hate you.”

You let out a dry chuckle and Peter could fall to his knees. The way you look pinned to the wall, the way your eyes are darker than before, filled with something unrecognisable. You could say the same for Peter.

“Guess what, Parker.” You almost spit your words, leaning forward as much as you possibly can. You swear you can hear his heartbeat coming out of his chest, “I hate you too. That’s one thing we’re both good at, isn’t it?”

You’re not quite sure who moves first but in the heat of the moment, your lips; his lips, were smashed together. Your teeth clashing and your tongues down each other’s throats. Peter uses his strength to lift you onto the bench, as he sits in between your legs, continuing to fuck your mouth with his tongue.

Your saliva mixes in heat and the room is silent, except for your soft moans against Peter’s mouth. You can feel your core growing wet and all you want is Peter. You’ve never wanted Peter so badly in your whole entire life.

Peter pulls away, you know that for sure. You can feel your lips getting red and swollen already, but he pulls your hoodie over your head, “A tank top and no bra... who are you trying to impress?” He mutters before peppering kisses down your neck.

“Certainly, was not you.” You shoot back at him, and you feel his teeth nip at the skin that he kisses.

His breath is burning hot as he talks, “Don’t be a fuckin’ brat, Hardy.” He kisses your neck again and all you can do is put your arms behind you for support, letting your head fall back.

“What do you want?” He asks you pulling away from you and he can hear you mewl in response. He wants to hear you moan; he wants to feel you squirm in pleasure underneath him. He wants to hear you whine when he denies you from cumming because you’ve been so bad to him. But he also wants to hear your moan when you orgasm, when you cum all over his fingers.

That’s what he intends to do to you today. Right now, on the science bench the two of you do your projects on and nobody will know, and it’ll have to be a secret the two of you share. Something you can’t tell anyone else. Something that ties the two of you together.

“Anything.” You mewl underneath his body, “Give me anything.” You’re begging, he can hear how desperate you are. How much you need this source of release.

He chuckles against your neck, and you could feel the smirk on his lips, “God, you are so needy... if I knew that, I would’ve done this sooner.”

You slap him softly and he only chuckles, “Don’t do that or I’ll hold back.” You don’t do it again and Peter’s hand slides into your sweatpants, “This okay?”

You nod, “Y-yeah.” You mutter softly.

Peter feels how wet you are, how your slits are covered in your arousal and want for him. He could cum in his pants from just feeling you.

“God,” His breath his hot against your ear, “You are so wet... all of this for me. Seems like you don’t hate me that much.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Peter.” You shudder as you feel his fingers dip into you for a second before pulling them back out.

You’re desperate. You need it. You want it, “Peter, please.” You mewl. God, you hate yourself. You hate the way you want him so bad. But everything was telling you yes. That burning in your stomach filling you with desire for Peter and only Peter.

He loved hearing his name on your tongue. How you only ever called him by his last name, but this was personal. This was something that made both of you venerable.

“P-Please.” It was hard for you to even speak. You were already drunk on Peter. You hated the way you sounded. You hate how much you like this. Finally, being able to submit to Peter. Finally, be able to do whatever he wants.

Peter doesn’t speak as he slides two fingers into your dripping cunt. Penetrating your hole as your body folds inward against his. Your head falling into the crane of his neck as you moan in pleasure. Your body moves against his as he moves his fingers in and out of you. Your body falling back onto the bench.

The squelch of your pussy fills the room and your moans do too. You’re trying to keep quiet, but his fingers are thick, and strong. You can feel him in every inch of you. How his middle and pointer finger pressing inside of you and his thumb rubbing your clit making you retract once more. Your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“God, Petey.” The nickname slips off of your tongue and you feel yourself get hot, but Peter continues to press into you, harder, rougher. Everything that you wanted. Everything you need.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, Petey.” You groan again as he presses into you, further, deeper.

You can feel that pit in your stomach burning up, you can feel your stomach churn and tie itself into a knot. You can feel yourself coming closer and closer to that sweet release. You need it.

“Fuck, Petey, I’m gonna cum.” You bite his shoulder in need.

“That’s right, that’s right, cum for me, y/n.” He speaks and all it does is push you over the edge. Your cum all over Peter’s fingers and he groans as he pulls them out of your pants, wrapping his mouth around them licking off your cum.

You bite your lip as you watch him do so with everything inside of you compelling you to speak, “This doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“Didn’t expect us to be.”

“I still hate you.”

You feel like you’re compensating.

“Didn’t expect you not to.”

Peter seems so completely chill. He seems like he actually doesn’t care. When in reality, he does. You can still feel yourself soiled in your pants and you’re slightly uncomfortable because of it. That and the fact that Peter had just made you feel good, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just weird.

Peter climbs onto the other side of the room and onto the table. You’ve bunched up your hoodie underneath your head and try to fall asleep. You can hear Peter’s soft snores, but despite your tiredness nothing gets you to sleep. Peter’s trying his best not to let himself feel something as he lets himself go.

You wake up in the morning met with the face of Mr. Harrington’s face as he had realised his mistake. He was clearly embarrassed and lets the two of you go, telling you that you can miss the first two periods, which were in fact, Chemistry. You and Peter walk home together, and you don’t say anything. Neither of you can muster up anything to say. Honestly, you’re considering skipping the rest of the school day and just wandering around in your suit. Alone or with Spidey, you weren’t sure. But regardless, you needed to stop thinking.

When Peter reaches his complex, you’re not sure if you should stop or continue, settling for the latter you keep going. It’s frustrating, that your feelings toward Peter are more complicated than ever.

You feel the burn of the warm water cascade down your skin, and you’ve decided you weren’t going back to school. Mr Harrington could be pissed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go back there. It was Friday anyway; you wouldn’t be missed over the weekend.

You check if your mum is home before slipping on your suit and the second you do, a message from the spider shows up on your goggles. Thank God.

You find him on the roof the two of you usually visit, “Hey, Spider.” You say softly, he can tell something’s up, and you know it.

“Something wrong, kitty?” He questions you, placing his hand on your arm, you can tell his eyes are looking at you with ease, with pity.

You nod softly, “I did something and I’m not sure If I’ll regret it.” The eyes on his suit begin to widen, “I didn’t steal again, Spidey, relax. I told you I’m never going back, no matter how much I want to.”

He nods, “I know, I just wanted to make sure,” He caresses your arm softly, “So what happened?”

“There’s this guy at my school and he makes my life hell, and I did something I never thought I would do... I dunno, I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

The arachnid nods, “It’s alright, let’s just swing around the city, take your mind off of whatever you’ve done.”

“Hopefully it does, Spider.” You smile carefully.

The two of you spend time in the city, flying off of buildings, racing. The two of you had a run in with a couple petty criminals. But nothing major. It’s not until the two of you are on the familiar rooftop with a box of pizza. His mask just above his lips and nose as he eats. The two of you laughing.

“D’you ever think any of our villains follow us back here?” You question Peter.

He shakes his head carefully, dangling his feet, “Nah, besides, there’s thousands of kids that go to this school, it doesn’t mean we’re any of them at all.”

You nod, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

You turn to face him, the two of you close. He sets down the pizza box, “So, did you forget?” He asks you softly.

“No... but I had fun.”

“I’m actually in the same position,” The spider sighs, “There’s this girl I can’t stand, and I did something to her. I’m not really sure if I regret it, though. Truth be told, I’ve kinda got feelings for her, but she, uh, she’d never feel the same.”

“Well, you don’t know till you try.”

He chuckles, “She’s a tough egg to crack, yesterday, I shed her of a few layers, but I don’t think it was enough.”

You place your hand on his thigh, “Don’t beat yourself up, Spidey.” You stand up on the ledge with a sigh, “Well, I’ve gotta go home... homework,” You smile, “And hey, thanks for today, I- uh- really needed it... bad luck kinda follows me wherever I go.”

A kiss to his cheek is the last thing you do and as you fall off of the edge, disappearing into the night. Peter feels something familiar about the words you had spoken. Thinking back to last night, the night the two of you did what you did. How his worst enemy couldn’t possibly the person he seeks comfort in... his partner in stopping crime.

... it couldn’t be? Right?

The next few days were spent with Peter freaking out over what he had learned. Everything about you. Everything the two of you really had. He hadn’t seen you... Black Cat... you. He hadn’t seen you, these past couple days. Given, crime was quiet this weekend, it didn’t stop. He hadn’t heard from you either.

Which made him worry? Should he be worried? It’s like you’re two totally different people, yet he can see parts of you in your superhero alias, the insults you shoot at the enemy are much like the ones you shoot at Peter. Both of you quipping at them as you fight. He looks at a selfie the two of you took on his phone, and he can finally see you. The glass of your goggles are quite tinted, and you’re smile completely changes the way Peter sees you. He’d only ever seen the way you sneered and moaned. God, that face you made when you moaned turned him on so much, but the sneer you’d give him made him feel like shit – but your smile made him want to smile.

Peter remembered the day he met you as he lay in bed that night. Thinking back to why the two of you hated each other. Maybe Peter had started this but that’s because of the Cat. The Black Cat. The person that was you. Peter loved Black Cat. He had harboured so many feelings for you over the past few years – so when a cute new girl had shown up at Midtown, someone who he could actually get along with, someone just as smart as him, he was rude and condescending because he knew he would begin to feel something for you, but it turned out that he already had, and he had no clue.

He thought about how he could bring this up to you. How he could confront you. How he could tell you that he knows you’re his best friend. How he’s yours.

Peter thinks about different scenarios of how this could all go. None of them end well.

Well, there’s the fairy tale ending where you kiss him and love him for exactly who he is, because he’s ninety-nine, point, nine percent sure Black Cat has a crush on Spider-Man. But even though he can look past it. He can turn everything he hates about you into something he loves. He’s been doing that ever since the rooftop.

He knows it’ll never happen.

“Parker, what the hell are you doing?” He’s dragging you into a janitors closet, as you protest against his hand.

He doesn’t know how to say this to you, but the light is dim and all he can do is stare. Albeit you’re angry, the way he looks at you is making you want to melt. But you can’t let yourself feel something for Peter. He’s your greatest enemy. Besides, you love Spider-Man. You love whoever is underneath that stupid mask – no matter what.

“I know who, I know what you are, Hardy.” He speaks softly, “I know you’re Black Cat.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Parker. She’s a vigilante. She works with Spider-Man. Do I look like someone who knows fucking Spider-Man?”

He nods, “Yeah. You do.”

You scoff, “Fuck off. I’m leaving. You can’t throw accusations like that around.”

Your hand goes for the door, and you feel something stick to the knob, your hand sticks to the knob. The familiar webbing that your best friend uses. The familiar webbing that Spider-Man uses. The Spider-Man you know. The Spider-Man you love. The man you said you loved underneath the mask no matter what.

“No.” You whisper, turning your head to face Peter, “No. It can’t be you... It can’t be you.” You’re shaking your head frantically, trying to enable any sort of hope you have that he’s lying to you. That this is some sick prank.

But it’s not. You know that. You hate this. Because you said you’d love the man under the mask, but the man underneath the mask is Peter.

You gulp, the question reluctant to fall from your tongue, “How did you know it was me?”

“Bad luck kinda follows me wherever I go. I’ve only ever heard two people say that. You and Black Cat. Technically one person.” Peter says, “I didn’t want to believe it at first, but the whole reason I was an asshole to you was because I had feelings for you... but Black Cat you. Not Y/n you. I didn’t want to fall for you because let’s be real, you’re an amazing, smart, incredible girl and suddenly all the things I hated about you became things I liked, but I’m not really sure that’s true because I kinda liked you the whole time.”

You can’t listen to this anymore. “Let me go, Spidey.” You whisper, “I’m sorry, but I can’t... I need time... you’re the person I love the most but you’re also the person I hate. The person who made the last few years hell... I’m sorry.”

Peter pulls out some web remover from his pocket, “I get it. It took me the whole weekend to try and understand... I still can’t understand, but I want us to be the same as we were. I want Peter and Y/n to be Spidey and Kitty.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, Peter.” You turn the knob of the door with your now free hand, “I’m not sure we’re even Spidey and Kitty anymore.”

You leave the janitors closet and you can’t even stay at school anymore. The one person you could count on to make you feel better was the only person you couldn’t stand. The person that took your mind off of Peter finger-fucking you was Peter. The person who fucked you. Peter knew things about you that nobody else knew. Nobody ever would know except for him.

Suddenly, you felt exposed.

More exposed than you’d ever feel if your identity was actually exposed to the public.

You ran out the door and headed home, making your way into your room. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go back... but you also promised yourself that you’d love whoever was underneath that goddamn mask no matter what. You weren’t quite sure what promises you could keep anymore.

This had been calling to you. You needed to do this, and you needed to do it now. You put on your suit and took out a bulletin board hidden inside your closet.

The last piece of art your father had ever painted.

You knew who had it. You just didn’t know where they were. You didn’t know where Wilson Fisk would be. This was the big leagues. Bigger than anything you’d ever done before. Bigger than any job you would’ve let yourself do before. But now it’s different.

It’s different because you have more experience. You’re stealthier than you were two years ago. You’re more agile. You’re quicker. Sneakier. Less reluctant to stun and hurt people.

You, however, have somewhere to go first.

Tombstone walks into his office, and you sit at his chair, a smirk lacing your face as he pulls out a gun. But you hold your hands up.

“Woah, woah, woah! Relax, I’m not here to bust you, graveyard.” You snicker at your own quip, “I’m here to ask you a question... I need some help.”

“So, you’re back to your own ways.” The smirk on his face is anything but large, small, discreet, and so enticing. You want to slap him in the face. You still want to bust him. But you can’t, otherwise he won’t give you the information you need, “Crime was never the same without you.”

You shake your head, “This is my last job before retirement. It’s risky and big. But I don’t know where he is... I have one painting left, Lonnie.” Your voice is somber, genuine.

“How do I know I can trust you’re not working with the Spider?” He questions, folding his arms.

“He did something to me. He betrayed me.” Your tone is seething and angry. You’re angry. That’s all you are. Mad. Unspeakably mad, “I don’t need him anymore. What I need is his last painting. You know how much they mean to me. You know how long I’ve been waiting.”

He nods, “I know, I know. But what’s in it for me?”

You shake your head, “I have nothing to offer money wise. I keep them. But should you ever need something incredibly hard to find. Hard to acquire. You’ve got the number for these.” You tap your goggles, “... and I will be happy to come out of retirement.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Alright... who are you looking for?”

Perched on the building across from Fisk’s, you stare into the apartment, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Your spray paint is in the belt of your suit and you’re ready to make your mark. You can see your father’s painting. You can see the beautiful light blues and candy pink hues that cover the canvas in contrast with Fisk’s white walls, it’s the only colour in the room. It’s the only sign of life in the apartment.

You desperately want to take it and replace that sign of life with your signature tag. The tag that lets him know that he’s the victim of your wrath. The victim of stolen art that he had stolen from you first. The painting had barely made a dent in his bank account and your families had acquired nothing because of the art museum ripping you off after his death. How all they did was gain and all you did was loose. How your mum was working shift after shift to keep you in Midtown so you could do something great for the both of you. Your mother Felicia Hardy was nothing short of amazing.

She didn’t deserve what had happened to her.

How she suffered for both of you more than you would ever have to.

But your stakeout is interrupted by the familiar padding of feet behind you. The familiar voice that breaks you out of this trance you’ve got happening. It’s going to kill you to face him. To look at him. Especially after turning back, trying to turn back to this life you’d promised him you would never turn back to.

“I thought you promised me you wouldn’t go back.” He says quietly, loud enough for you to hear, but his voice laced with disappointment. You’d rather him be angry or mad.

Knowing that it’s Peter now. Hearing disappointment in his voice rather than familiar venom.

You look at him through your goggles. They’re tinted, you have to remind yourself of that every time you look into his eyes. Though, it doesn’t really matter anymore.

“I guess we make promises we can’t keep.” You sigh, turning back to look back into the room.

“You don’t want to do this, Kitty... this isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me, Parker!” You say exasperated, “You don’t know anything about me.”

You’re lying to yourself – he knows you more than your mother. He knows you the best out of anyone you ever know. You keep reminding yourself about that and it keeps bringing you pain. But it’s something you can’t seem to stop thinking about. Something that won’t seem to leave you alone.

Something that regrets making you lash out like this. Something that makes you regret not kissing him in that janitors closet and telling him you can work through it. Work through the confusion. Work through the problems you face with yourself and him. Work through the problems that can bring Y/n and Peter together just like your superhero counterparts.

You’re so confused and it’s killing you. You want Peter. You do. But you’re scared to let yourself want him more than you’ve already had him. This whole time you’ve had Peter. You’ve had Peter Parker.

“Stop lying to yourself!” Peter reads your mind, “We have something. You know it. I know it. You can’t keep hiding yourself from the truth.”

“I’m not hiding from any truth, Peter. I want to love you. But how can I love someone who’s provoked me into being the worst version and the best version of myself around them?”

“That’s my point... I’ve made you better.”

“You’ve also made me horrid... do you not understand that?”

He moves closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder, “I do... because you’ve done the same thing to me, sweetheart. But now that I know you. Now that I truly know you. I can only make you better. I don’t have to pretend to hate you anymore.”

You look up at Peter and his hand flies to your chin, caressing it softly, “Petey...” You say quiet, “I don’t know what I want. I mean, I do. I want you. I want Spider-Man. But I don’t know what I want right now.”

“I can put the mask on, I can leave, and I can let you get back to your business, or you can leave, either way, we can pretend this never happened... or we can face the music. I can stay. I can make you feel good, I can make you feel better. Then you can choose to go back to your business, and I’ll leave... or you can come back with me.”

You stare into the lens’ of his suit, “Peter...” You trail off, taking the next step and removing your goggles slowly, there aren’t any red marks yet.

Peter takes off his own too, moving towards you until you’re leaning against the ledge, “So what it’ll be, Kitty? What do you want?”

You look up him and it feels like the science room all over again, but now it’s real. Everything is real. The boy standing in front of you is one of love. One that you do love. That you need to love.

“I- I need you, Peter.” Your voice is quiet and all you can inhale is him. All that fills your scent is him.

And soon, all you can taste is his tongue. How your tongues are intertwined, moving together. In sync. Sharing control. It’s not rough like the first time the two of you kissed. Full of anger and desire. Now full of passion, romance.

His lips were softer and plump, they moved with yours so fluidly. They mix in with your grape Chapstick which Peter thinks only makes you taste better. Although, he should believe you always taste good. His hands are wrapped around your waist and his they make your skin tingle, burning straight through you.

Peter’s hands manage to find the zipper of your suit and as he pulls away, “Can I?” He questions.

You debate it for a moment. You like him. You like all of him. You want him. Right now. But do you want to have sex on a rooftop?

“Yeah.” You smirk, “It’s okay.”

His fingers slip for a moment, before gripping back onto the zipper, sliding it down. You’re pulling it off and you’re left in your panties, “If I knew you didn’t wear a bra underneath this thing maybe I would’ve acted on this sooner.”

“Peter!” You say through a laugh, and his lips land back on yours, through your smile. Your laugh doesn’t last long as Peter’s lips begin to trail down your neck, reaching one of your many sweet spots. This was one Peter had discovered the other night, “Peter.” You moan breathless.

How he’s been kissing you for a moment, a single moment and you’re already gone. You’re head leans back slightly as his head is in the crane of your neck, “God,” you moan once more, your hands run along Peter’s suit, “I can’t be the only one, Petey.”

He nods and removes his lips from your neck, taking off his own suit and you can see how hard he is through his boxers. You palm his cock before his lips are back on yours, “Fuck, Kitty.” He groans softly as you hold his cock through his pants, he removes your hand from his pants, “Kitty... I wanna taste your kitty.”

“EW! Peter!” You slap him quickly through a laugh, “God, you are such a dork!”

“You love it,” He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you can’t help but smile.

“I do.” You say quietly against his lips. Your breath hot on his, “So what’re you waiting for?”

Peter pulls you onto the floor of the rooftop, on top of the pile of your suits, his tongue trails down your body, before finally reaching your pussy. His thumb flies over the thin material of your panties. You shudder at how sensitive you are. God, he’s barely even touched you and you’re already folding underneath him.

“God, you’re so wet. You’re so fuckin’ wet.” He almost growls? You don’t care, he’s too hot for you to care. You feel so high on the feeling already that you don’t care.

Your hand runs through his hair, through his pretty curls, they lace your fingers, his hair is soft... so soft. You think about asking what shampoo he uses after all this is done. He’d laugh at you and the feeling of bliss you feel from the thought of that overtakes everything that you ever felt before.

“Petey,” Your moan is breathless and needy. You were allowing him to let him have you. You were finally letting him have all of you.

Maybe you’d come to regret this someday... maybe Peter will break your heart. But you don’t feel any of that right now. All you feel is love and hope. All you feel is good.

Your moans are turning Peter on by the minute. He wants nothing to devour you. He wants nothing more than to make you feel good because that makes him feel good. He’s addicted to the taste of you. It’s a taste he desperately wanted back the second the two of you stopped. He tried too hard to remember your taste and scent over the weekend and now he’s got it all splayed out in front of him.

Peter slides his hands into the waistband of your panties, “This good, Kitty?” He questions you in a whisper and all you can do is nod, “I need words, baby.”

“Yes, Peter.” You match his volume, “Please. Do whatever you want with me. I just need you.”

You can feel his smirk as he pulls down your panties, it’s not long before they’re all the way down your legs and it doesn’t take long for his tongue to dip into the deep pool that is your pussy. Your wetness coats his tongue, covering it in the sweet juice. He moans at how sweet you are, how good you taste. The vibrations of his moans on your clit make you want to scream. How he's kitten licking and trying different speeds.

You mewl underneath him so needy for him – your knuckles turn white as you’re gripping onto his hair, holding on for what feels like dear life as he continues to lap at you. Long and small strokes with his tongue. He feels so good against you. Your moans filling the air of the cold rooftop as your nipples stand hard. Peter’s hands make their way up your body. His hands so warm against you. Holding your tits, his fingers grazing against the hard nubs.

He sucks and makes circles around your clit, making you moan and your back arch. How is he so fucking good at this? He was supposed to be quiet and kept, you’d expect nothing like this of him... though, you also should’ve asked yourself that question in the science room.

Peter’s breath is hot on your pussy as he continues to lap at your sweet juices, moving faster and faster until you have your final release. Your stomach churning with desire, swirling with a fire that brings you nothing but bliss; nothing but that sweet release. Your hand remains in his hair, but slowly slithers out as Peter comes up to meet your face once more. His lips are swollen and red from the taste of you. He presses a kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself.

You run your hand down Peter’s body, finally reaching his boxers, finally feeling how hard his cock really is, “What do you want, Peter? Cause I know what I want.” You say quietly.

“I wanna fuck you so bad.” He smiles and you match his grin.

As he slides his cock into you, it feels like a revelation. There’s not much here but feelings for each other. Somehow this is proving to you that Peter won’t hurt you like he has in the past. You wonder why this is showing you everything’s. Maybe it’s because the two of you are in such a venerable state that makes both of you exposed in all the best ways. Sure, it’s dark on the roof, but the light of the moon, the lights of most buildings and the shimmer of the stars in the sky make Peter look as beautiful as ever. The moon light on his face, the drunken haze of sex the both of you are in. Breathing in that cinnamon scent you smelled two days ago, trying to fight it, but now that you’ve let yourself have it all, it’s as though he’s put you into a trance.

His cock and how wet you are just making it all the easier. Peter groans deep, his voice husky and the way he kisses your neck again, needy, full of want for your body. His lips come back onto yours. He bites your lip softly and you moan against the feeling. His cock is pushing deeper inside of you. The two of you moving in motion. Only being able to feel each other. You can feel the slit of his cock pressing against your g-spot and his fingers move down your body, landing on your clit, stimulating you further.

His balls hit your skin as your bodies blend. Till the two of you are one large chunk of flesh. Together, made into one. Partners in stopping crime. Best friends.

His lips hit yours again, togues intertwined once more. You pull away breathless, panting, sweating. You feel like you’re seeing stars and you’re drunk, drunk off of the feeling of Peter’s raw cock inside of you.

Your moans fill the air once more and Peter can feel you getting tighter as he continues to move in and out of you. Your clit is pulsing and sensitive, throbbing.

“Peter, I’m gonna cum.” You moan, letting him know exactly what you’re doing, you can feel the desire awaken inside of you. You can feel your stomach burn and burn. You can feel yourself walking closer and closer to that edge.

“That’s right, Kitty, cum for me.” He groans as he too can feel himself getting closer, but he needs you to cum first.

“Ah! Fuck!” You groan as you feel yourself pour over. His words pushing you over. You’re stuck panting as Peter begins to ride you off of your high, all you sensitive and the hole of your pussy feels raw and wet.

“Fuck...” Peter moans as he feels that same sensation of desire built up inside of him. That fire. That need for release.

“Cum on my stomach.” You tell him you’re your pants of breath, unable to catch yourself.

Peter growls as he pulls out of you, rubbing his cock as cum comes out of the slit of his cock, warm and sticky all over your stomach.

He falls next to you with a soft chuckle, “How are we going to clean you up?”

You turn to face him, “I’m not sure... but right now? I don’t really care.”

Peter pulls you into his arms, kissing your collarbone, “I’m sorry I hurt you like I did.” He mutters against the sweat of your skin.

You shakes your head softly, “I’m sorry too... we both kinda fucked up, right?”

He nods softly, “Yeah.” He presses another kiss to your shoulder, “What does this mean for us?”

You smile wide, grinning brightly, “I’d be willing to give us a shot if you are.”

“I most definitely am.”

“Peter! Guess what!” You call across the room, running back to your table from Mr. Harrington’s desk, “I got one hundred!” Your cheerful, you’re happy.

“Congrats, baby!” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

The adjustment for everyone was weird. Especially for Mr. Harrington. Seeing both of you kind to each other. Nice.

Yes. The arguing was familiar, but this is something that he never thought he would see. The two of you getting along let alone a couple.

“Me too.” He mutters against your cheek.

You shove him playfully, “Why didn’t you say anything!”

“You want me to be honest?” He questions you softly.

You nod, “Yeah... I do.”

“Sometimes if I notice you’ve had a bad day, I lie to make you feel better.”

“Wait what do you mean?”

“You remember last semester when you got that mark back and I said I got ninety-seven because you got ninety-nine?”

You nod your head, your eyes morphing into a sceptical glare, “Yeah... I do.”

“I lied. I got a hundred, but you looked like you had a bad day.”

“Peter. We didn’t even like each other then.” You said softly.

Honestly, this was heart-warming, tugging on every single string your heart could muster up.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

The bell goes, and Peter begins to walk away.

“Peter what do you mean?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Peter!”

You run after him feeling nothing but warmth and love.

#peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #andrew garfield x reader #tobey maguire x reader #spiderman x reader

450 notes · View notes