thinking about lyla hiring you as miguel's in-person assistant because as good as she is, she can't stop miguel from throwing chairs across the room. she introduces you to miguel on your first day and he immediately tries to fire you, insistent he doesn't need someone to "babysit" him, let alone someone with half the muscle mass and twice the mortality. except lyla's the one paying you, and even if it's miguel's money, lyla has made sure he can't stop the checks from clearing. so you're here to stay.
he does his best to ignore you at first and for the most part, you rarely get in his way. he goes about his duties and you shadow him, only ever speaking when spoken to if ever at all. but then one day, he's had a particularly difficult time with an anomaly and suddenly his fangs are splitting his lip, his claws are punching holes into his desk, he's snarling and the rage is taking over him again.
he grabs the thing and flings it across the room-
and you catch it. you set it down, calmly, safely, and it's so shocking to miguel because he's never seen you exert more force than needed to open a door, and you caught it.
miguel's anger melts away just like that. he watches you exhale, watches you drag the heavy thing back over to him where he stands dumbfounded and feeling. silly. he didn't think- "instead of throwing things, you can take your anger out on me."
miguel goes blank. he sounds so pathetic when he fumbles for a "w-what?"
you smile, the first time he's ever seen you do so, "I'm a good partner."
this had to be a. prank, right? lyla had put you up to this? he knows it's been a while, and she'd made the joke plenty of times before, but. were you. really? miguel clears his throat, ready to rebuff you, but he thinks about it and...
I mean, it has been a while. "you work for me." he reasons. it's not a refusal, you notice.
"it's okay," you assure him, stepping closer, "this kind of thing's in the job description."
and god. miguel doesn't know, is it actually? had lyla really. done that? he'd muster up the embarrassment if you weren't standing right in front of him and smelling so good and this whole time he'd been convinced that if he even dared to touch you he might break you but you'd caught it without breaking a sweat. what else could you handle? what were you offering to take?
you step even closer and then-
your fists are up. you're crouching and your fists are up. miguel stares.
"come on, then," you taunt, smiling wider, "I've fought bigger."
sparring partner.
now miguel's really embarrassed. he doesn't even have it in him to actually take you up on your completely innocuous, innocent offer. you wanted to spar. you wanted him to take his anger out on you in a fight. you'd sapped the anger right out of him just from this conversation. maybe it'd be better if he took a nap instead. he hadn't had one of those in a while either.
when he continues to just stand there, staring, red hot in the face, you raise an eyebrow and your smile becomes a little... mischievous. "what? did you have something else in mind?"
part two
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JJ Jameson is so impressed with Peter's photos of Spiderman that now he's sending Peter on a new assignment: photos of the elusive Batman. Not a single newspaper has been able to get a photo that isn't shitty cryptid level of blurry, and Jameson has decided that the Daily Bugle with get the prestige of having the first clear photo of the bat menace, and will be able to hold it over the heads of the incompetent Gotham papers.
So he sends Peter to Gotham for a week with instructions not to come back until he's got that photo. Peter, unfortunately, can't come up with a good excuse as to why he can't get Batman photos the same way he gets Spiderman photos, so he sets off to Gotham, confident that he can probably get at least one decent photo, less confident about what the bats will do to him if he does.
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