#pavitr prabhakar angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scarthefangirl · 10 months

Text

Admit it

Hobie brown x fem!reader

Request: Can I get a hobie brown x stubborn fem! reader. Like they obviously like each other but won’t do anything about bc of her. Hobie keeps asking what’s up and she just brushes it off. Turns out, she just wants to protect him.

Warnings: Some language, angst, poorly written lmao, not proof read

Story type: Blurb

PART 2 |

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

After a particularly pressing mission, your new focus was on the grumbling in your stomach.

I grab a tray and fill it with food, rushing to an empty table. As I take my first bite, hear a tray slamming down across from me. I glance up and see Pavitr smiling at me over the table.

"So," He says cheerfully, drawing out the 'o'.

"Yes?" I ask, mouth full of food. The second I have enough swallowed, I take another large bite.

"You and Hobie…. What's the deal?" He inquires and my face immediately heats up. I take a moment to swallow my food and reply simply,

"There is no deal."

"You guys flirt all the time! You obviously like each other." He presses. My heart races at the thought of Hobie and I consider confiding in Pav. Nausea twists into my stomach and I just shake my head and take another bite. The topic is not up for discussion. "Y/N, you deny your feelings every time someone asks. Why won't you admit you like him? You guys could be so happy." My chest tightens and for a second I nearly forget how to swallow.

"There's no feelings." I shrug.

"Admit you like him and spare us all this agony of waiting!" He exclaims and luckily I am saved from Pav's interrogation when Hobie takes a seat next to him, Gwen and Miles plopping down next to me.

"Admit she likes who?" Hobie asks with a smirk, although he already knows who he was asking about. I just stuff my mouth with my lunch, barley taking a break to breathe. Throughout lunch I catch his gaze on me, not attempting to hide it, and I feel my stomach churning.

I survive lunch unscathed and head to the only place I feel like I can really breath, the roof of the building I was just eating in. I sigh in relief the second I step into the open, freshness of the outdoors. I take a seat, dangling my legs off the edge. I breath in and out evenly, staring out at the vast view of headquarters. The spider people walking and flinging around look like ants from my elevated position.

I sit like this for a while. Calm and away from the stress of headquarters. But it is ruined when a voice calls out behind me, drawing nearer.

"Y/N what are ya doin up here?" The familiar British voice rung in my ears, immediately placing butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

"It's peaceful," I say, looking at Hobie as he sits next to me. "Or, it was." I tease. We settle into silence, both staring forward. He bounces his legs as they dangle and I can hear his heavy breathing, subconsciously matching it. His proximity causes shortness of breath and I am about to get up when he speaks, breaking the silence.

"Its a beautiful view." He states and I nod. We both turn to face forward again, the wind humming in my ear and blowing my hair gently. I wish we could be here forever, sitting in each others quiet presence. But we can't.

I notice him scooting closer, slowly. If I blinked I wouldn't have even noticed him closing the gap between us. I can't help the sick feeling overcoming me, making me want to free fall off the edge.

We both look at each other, holding eye contact. Normally one of us would ruin the moment with a snarky comment, but instead he begins to lean in slightly. I feel his breath and it sends shivers down my spine. For a minute I want to kiss him, well, I always want to, but for a fleeting second I almost do. I wish I could freeze time, just like this, and stay like this forever.

"I- I can't." I whisper, heart breaking as I pull back. I turn away, missing the hurt flash across his face. This isn't the first time I've ended a moment before it can begin. I know I'm leading him on, but he makes it hard not to succumb to the moment. But a certain spidermans voice rings through my head in these moments, clearly saying "You have to keep your distance."

"This is one fucked up game darlin," He sighs with a humorless chuckle and I know he's right. He doesn't understand how bad I want to be his everything. He doesn't understand how much it hurts me to be the bad guy. He doesn't understand the longing I feel.

"You're so good at games though," I laugh, and he knows what I'm getting at.

"I flipped the board one time in the game of Life. It is a major misconception of real adult hood. Not everyone wants to get married or have kids or go to university," He rolls his eyes, and I don't mind his rant. I chuckle and like that, it's like the almost kiss never happened.

"You guys completed the mission?" Miguel questioned harshly. Everyone nods and he continues, "How was the performance?"

"Everyone did well," Gwen says and everyone hums in agreement. "Pavitr and Miles did exceptional with getting the people out." She adds.

"Y/N you specifically disobeyed orders and went into the building when you were supposed to be helping Gwen." Miguel snaps and I feel embarrassment bubbling in my stomach.

"She don't follow rules, if she did she'd be boring." Hobie says which earns a vicious glare from Miguel. Hobie puts his elbow on my shoulder, head in his hand, and leans his weight on me. I feel scarlet crawling up my neck and spreading onto my face. I catch Miguel's fixed glare on me and look to the ground.

"Hands off Brown." I grin and step to the side, causing him to loose balance for a moment. He passes me a dirty look and I laugh at him.

As everyone is leaving, Miguel tells me to stay back. My shoulders tense and I can't bare to look him in his red eyes. "Y/L/N. Have you been following my orders?" He demands.

"Hmm, what were they again?" I pretend to forget, scrunching my face and holding my chin to annoy Miguel. It works, his scowl deepening.

"Y/L/N, I tell you everyday. You can't date Hobie. You have to keep your distance. It's better that way."

"I know. I know, okay?" I groan, wishing he wouldn't stress it so much. It only makes it hurt me worse. He just pinches the bridge of his nose, no doubt mentally cursing me.

"You can't disrupt the canon." I roll my eyes at his comment.

"I know." And with that I turn around and stomp out. I can't stand this. Not being able to be with the boy I'm head over heels for, all because I'm supposed to have my first kiss with someone else.

That's my fucking canon event. My first kiss, and then other bullshit. I can't kiss Hobie because that's not my canon first kiss, and have to keep my distance because its canon that my first kiss happens on my first ever date so I have to wait to go on my first date for some idiot from my universe.

I'm so entranced in my thoughts as I walk aimlessly around, not knowing where I plan on going, when I bump into Hobie. I nearly fall but he catches me and helps me get my balance. Again, blush creeps onto my face.

"Now you're literally falling for me," He smirks, the lighting causing his rose ring to sparkle. I narrow my eyes and snort. "You alright?" He asks in a mocking way.

"Yeah, sorry," I grumble and step out of his grasp.

"Didn't you fall on me the first time we met?" He reminisces, walking with me as I shuffle forward. I remember as well, I had just joined and I had pissed off a spider cat, I was running from it when I bumped into him and took him down. I immediately fell for him, ironically.

"I can't forget when we first met." I start and his eyes widen in surprise at my sentiment. "But I'll keep trying." Which causes him to glare at me andd flip me his middle finger.

"Aren't you miss snarky?" He elbows me and I laugh. We walk together for awhile, to nowhere in particular. Eventually we catch up to Miles and Pav, who wiggle their eyebrows at us.

"Ooh, look at the love birds." Miles nudges Pavitr, a sly grin on his face. Although I know where they are coming from, it doesn't stop my heart from dropping.

"Where?" I play dumb and look around with a fake jaw drop.

[Two days later]

We have finished working for the day and a lot of my spider friends are chilling in one of the many living rooms in headquarters with me.

"Anyone else starving or just me?" Peter b asks, Mayday crawling on his shoulders. I nod hastily in agreeance. "Im going to get some dinner, who's with me?" He stands and a few others do too.

"I think I'm just going to head home to eat, but thanks!" I smile and wave them off. They linger outside for a moment, trying to decide on something.

"Want to go back with me and grab a bite together?" Hobie asks, staring into my eyes. I avert his gaze, cheeks burning.

"I'm okay, thanks though." I say with a faltering smile. My eyes fall to the floor as I hear the murmurs of the group quiet at the sound of my rejection.

"Another time then." He smirks but I notice the grimace behind his expression.

"Maybe," I lie for his sake and head back to my universe as quickly as possible.

"I can't believe you did that!" Pavitr gags in disgust.

"it's not so bad," I shrug and take another bite of the mayo lathered corn. Miles shudders in disgust and Gwen rolls her eyes. I lift another spoonful to my mouth when the spoon is snatched from my hand as Hobie takes a seat next to me. He stuffs it into his mouth and swallows, then makes a scrunched up expression that leaves me staring slightly.

"That's putrid." He grimaced and I shrug once more.

"You just don't have an exquisite palette like I do." I puff my chest out and grin. He digs into the contaminated corn again, scooping another bite and eating it. "I thought it was putrid?"

"I don't believe in consistency," He gives me a side eye and I roll my eyes.

"Why don't you just admit you guys are in love?" Gwen blurts then turns pink in embarrassment. I immediately turn my head from Hobie, praying he doesn't notice the fluster evident on my face.

"Yeah Y/N, admit it." Hobie mocks and I shake my head.

"there's nothing to admit. I don't like Hobie." I say.

"Yes you do." The table says at the same time, including Hobie.

"No i don't."

"Oh please, admit it already." Miles groans.

"No, there isn't anything to admit."

"Yes there is," Hobie smirks and I fight the burning sensation that stings my cheeks.

"No." I press.

"Yes." He continues. Gosh, I just want to strangle him.

"No. Stop it." I say, heart dropping. I can't like him why can't he be okay with that? I can tell he feels guilty for pressing, which makes me feel bad for snapping. "Sorry, I'm sorry." I close my eyes tightly and sigh, getting up from the table and going to my safe place. The roof.

I am welcomed with a gush of wind that blows my hair into my eyes and mouth. I have to continuously brush the hair away as I sit in my usual place. Even with the hair in my face and the wind burning my skin slightly, its still calming. Until its not.

"Y/N!" Hobie calls in a sing-song voice and I close my eyes in aggravation. He takes a seat next to me and I feel a lump growing in my throat. I just want to hold him and kiss him and hug him and never let him go.

"Do you pretend to like me, or pretend not to?" He asks and it takes me a second to understand.

"I don't do either." I say flatly, standing up to leave. Miguel would want me to walk out and keep my distance. And that's what I am doing, walking away, until Hobie uses his webs to bring me tumbling into him. I gasp in fear that I'll fall over the edge but Hobie catches me. I pant to catch my breath as i sit wear I was before.

"I should push you off this damn roof, Brown!" I shout.

"Oh please, you're fine. You're just proving my point. I know you, if you didn't like me than you would've pushed me." He chuckles and then gets a serious look on his face. "Why do you act like you don't like me? Am i-" he groans, embarrassed of his next question. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He's looking at me with the saddest expression I've ever seen him make and it nearly causes the lump in my throat to escape into a sob, but I manage to keep it down.

"You're not doing anything wrong Hobie." I sigh and gaze into his eyes, my own glossed over.

"Then what is it?" He demands, "You owe me an explanation!"

"I also owe you like 40 bucks, so what?" I try to play it off, despite the crack in my voice, hoping we can toss this in the bin of 'forgotten' moments. We have a lot of them.

"Y/N." Is all it takes for tears to spring out of my eyes. He looks surprised, scooting back slightly. I rub extremely hard at my eyes with my hands until I've relatively stopped.

"Sorry the wind got in my eyes." I laugh, but its not even half hearted. When he looks at me I know he doesn't believe a thing I say.

"Just tell me the truth." I meet his eyes as he speaks and feel my heart breaking at how badly I want to smash my lips against his. We stare into each other's eyes so deeply it makes me want to shuffle off the edge. My face twitches towards his and then I pause.

"I can't Hobie." I whisper but it is pointless to say anything, the look we're sharing tells enough truth. Before I realize what we're doing I am swept in the moment and we begin to kiss. Its better than I've ever imagined. His kisses me delicately, like I am fragile. I suppose I am, considering this may be the only time we kiss. We should savor it.Despite his gentleness, I kiss him with urgency and desperation. I need this. I need him.

After a moment, reality comes crushing in. I'm kissing Hobie. My first kiss, Hobie Brown. I can't do this! This is it, I've ruined everything. It's self sabotage. This is just making it harder than it has to be. I am about to pull away and tell him it's a mistake, but before I get the chance Miguel's voice booms from behind us.

"Y/L/N!" He shouts an I flinch, scrambling away from Hobie. Immediately I burst into tears. Its too much. "I've told you countless times not to do this. You had ONE rule." He yells and confusion clouds Hobie's face.

"I've ruined everything." I whisper to Hobie, but really to myself. Tears stream down my face as Michael's large shadow covers me in shade. "I'm sorry." I tell Miguel, throat tight as I keep myself from sobbing.

"It's too late Y/N. There's no going back now." He says it dangerously low. "Get up." I obey, and as I turn to follow him away I glance back at Hobie, who is no doubt utterly confused. I'm sorry, I mouth to him sadly.

I tried to stay away from him, but I couldn't.

part 2 ;)

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @ravensinthedaylight // @dai-tsukki-desu // @url0calw3irdo // @daisydark // @snzzysstuff // @0-n-1-x // @darkdakota8998 //

Join my taglist!

1K notes · View notes

blueysobssesions · 10 months

Text

His last moments with you

Angst, Character death

Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Miguel O' Hara, Miles Morales, Peter B Parker, Gwen Stacy

Hobie Brown

His last moment with you, was him pulling you from the backstage, taking you to the stage while the band played their instruments. Kissing you right there, with his fans watching the two of you. You can hear the lousy screams from the crowd as he held you close, pulling away. "H-hobie..." "Shh, jus' look at me, luv" You locked eyes with Hobie, his forehead touching yours saying "I love ya'"Seems like most of the crowd heard what he said, they were screaming. You were flustered, wanting to go back to the backstage but, he placed a kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

The concert wasn't the same when Hobie took a break... over a month when the 'event' happened.

Pavitr Prabhakar

His last moments with you were after the graduation of the both of you, you two were excited at that moment. 3...2...1! the countdown finished, then everybody started to toss their caps in the air, celebrating the completion of the journey. As the caps fell back down, you locked eyes with Pavitr, leaning into a kiss. The world seemed to fade away in that moment, and all you could feel was the warmth of his lips against yours. Everyone looked at the both of you in awe, one of your bestfriend didn't hesitate to take a picture. "Everyone's looking at us" "Do you think that I care?" he said before pecking your lips.

It was a bittersweet goodbye, this would be the last time you would be together.

Miguel O' Hara

His last moment with you was, at the bedroom, cuddled up together. It was his first proper sleep. You watched as him peacefully drifted off, his breathing steady and his face relaxed. Your fingers slowly stroking his soft hair, while your other hand held his hand. You were happt to finally see him sleep properly, with how much he's focused and stressed... he couldn't sleep. As a wife of his, you need to take care of him and ensure he gets the rest he deserves.

But now, he's taking care of himself... the word 'sleep' now was nothing to him.

Miles Morales

His last moments with you was having a dinner with you and his parents. Rio already liked you when you started to teach Miles spanish, and you helping jeff solve some crimes here and there. Miles couldn't help but smile at this. Rio was the one who made you come over and have dinner, and of course you agreed. He couldn't help but be flustered when you talked about him to them. "He did great at spanish class" you smiled, before eating your food. "Oh, really? Well, that's indeed great! What did he get?" "I think miles should answer that" you giggled. They turned their head towards them, which miles flinched. "u-uh, yeah... I got an A plus" he said nervously. Rio gasped, impressed "Wow, really! That's great!" "Good job, miles" they said. "Well, Y/n helped me with it. You guys should thank Y/n too" Miles smiled at you, how can he be lucky? You smiled back and blushed a little bit.

And now here... Rio and Jeff comforting their son... holding his phone, the picture of the both of you showing in the screen.

Peter B. Parker

His last moments with you is the both of you danicing in the living room while music plays in the backround. You began to move to the beat, leading him in a slow dance. As the both of you moved together, you both found lost in the moment, forgetting the world outside your own four walls. It was just the two of you, surrounded by love and music. The song ended and you both stood still for a moment before breaking apart and looking at each other with a smile on your face. "I love you," he said as he pulled you into his arms. "I love you too," you replied as he kissed your forehead.

It was the first and last dance for him

Gwen Stacy

Her last moments with you is hanging out with the others for the first time. Going on a picnic with Hobie, Pavitr, You, Gwen, Miles, Peni and Peter with mayday. As the sun set on that memorable day, laughter filled the air as you all bonded. It was a beautiful moment for everyone, the two of you watching the sunset while the others chatter. Your head on her shoulder as you both shared a comfortable silence.

Knowing that it would be your last moments with all of them.

#blueyheartzposts #spiderverse #spiderverse angst #astv #astv angst #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miles morales x reader #peter b parker x reader #gwen stacy x reader #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #miguel o hara #miles morales #peter b parker #gwen stacy #angst #character death

664 notes · View notes

simpfr · 11 months

Text

There isn't enough of him.

I love this lil guy even though i haven't watched the movie yet and I can't find any fanfics of him? Not even on ao3 dude. So I'm gonna do it myself. Correct me if i make mistakes or if he's out of character.

I wish you knew.

Part 1.

"You don't think that's weird, do you?" he asked with worry in his voice as he looked you deep in the eye, searching for the slightest twitch or look of of disgust to confirm that you did in fact, think it was weird.

He just confessed his undying love for one of your friends, gayatri, and how he would stare at her constantly while admiring her every move from afar. Her smile, the way she talks, everything.

But, what he wasn't aware of, was that you already knew all of that and how it saddened you to know that you really never stood a chance of capturing his heart for it was already in the hands of someone far better than you.

Oh how you much you wish he would think of you like that instead.

You couldn't help but crack a smile out of both sorrow and jealousy, "of course not. I would've been a fool to not have realized that months ago."

"Wait what... YOU KNEW??" he exclaimed while crawling over to your side of the bed to hold your shoulders in a tight grasp.

With the way he was acting you would've thought i confessed to being a master mind behind a mass genocide.

"Well, who wouldn't be able to recognize that luxurious hair of yours nearly everywhere they go?" you sassed while rolling your eyes playfully to which he smiled at.

"Should've followed y'all with a bald cap on then."

was it wrong that you liked how close he was to you right now? If only you leaned in a little closer so you could—

"Oh no, You don't think she realized too do you!?" dang it.

with a long sigh, you answered, "No pavitr, I- she's as busy as bee. She doesn't have time to look around her surroundings and look at people."

for a split moment, it looked as if he had something to say but decided to go against it and just nod instead.

Nothing after was said. Just pure silence that was neither comfortable or awkward. A loud beep came from his watch he for some reason randomly got three months ago as a disappointed look arose upon his face.

"Uh, I gotta go. Remember to close the door and leave the key in the machine, okay?" he smiled before leaving with a bag in hand not giving you the opportunity to respond.

"Sure." you said to..well, technically the door.

Surprisingly, you didn't end up leaving but instead ended up accidentally falling asleep which, in your mind, was considered disrespectful but it's not like you did it on purpose.

You got out of his bed and remade it before proceeding to clean the house as a way of saying "sorry for over staying my stay". Pavitr was a tidy person so there wasn't much of a mess in the first place and it made you finish right in time to hear a crash from inside the hall.

Quickly, you grabbed the most damage doing item, which was ironically a bat, and began to approach the room.

"Shit. I really did a number on myself this time.." the voice you guessed belonged to whoever cause the loud bang before said. Wait was it—

"Pavitr?..." the boy looked at you in shock, face fully appalled as if he was caught in the midst of committing a crime.

He had cuts and bruises everywhere while his breath was clearly unsteady making you even more concerned than you were before.

"Are you okay!??!" you exclaimed as you rush towards him dropping the bat in your hand as you did so. you began looking all over him for more injuries that you haven't seen while asking questions like, "who did this?" "does it hurt?" and not before long you realize he had a deep gash on his left cheek.

You carefully placed your hand behind it, rubbing the area to cease the pain, "you aren't in a gang, Are you?" the question was dumb and naive yet you still asked, and to that he let out a heart filled laugh as he placed his hand over yours, "I'm fine, and no I'm not in a gang, y/n." he gave your hand a quick squeeze before placing back to your side.

"Are you sure? You look like you've been working out a lot..."

What you said didn't click for a hot minute before, boom.

You wanted to off yourself.

And of course, the boy who you complimented had the most cockiest smirk known to man on his face, "that's where your mind was at?"

Not even bothering to explain yourself, you went for the first kid and returned.

"Sit."

He compiled without a fight, probably exhausted from the standing up for so long after already being tired.

And with that, you began to work your magic.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

You ended up cuddling after you both took a shower (not together) and pavitr immediately fell asleep while you were caught up with your thoughts.

Does anything I do make him feel like i do whenever he does something?

Does what we're doing right now make him as flustered as I am?

Did anything I do matter?

Truthfully, you wanted the fact you did what you did to consume his mind and make him feel the way you do for him which could be admitted as...weird.

You just wanted your feelings to be returned, was that too much to ask for?

You couldn't help but stare and admire his features and the way the dim moonlight blocked by the curtains complimented his features so well.

"I wish you knew."

╞══════════╡

Part 2

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x reader #pavitr my beloved #romance #x reader #pavitr x you #pavitr prabhakar x reader #light angst #fluff

773 notes · View notes

vonev · 9 months

Note

Hey there! Can you do a Miguel x spiderwoman reader where during a mission Miguel accidentally hurts you pretty badly while trying to get you out of the way of the anomaly, leaving you in a medically induced coma for a couple days while you heal? I wanna see an incredibly gentle, guilt-ridden Miggy visiting you when you wake up and treating you like you’re made of glass

Calling (just to save you, I'd give all of me)

Miguel O'Hara x reader Oneshot

Words: 6.06k (yeah i know)

Warnings: Graphics depictions of Violence, Angst, Blood and Violence.

Summary:

A mission gone wrong, some crying, more suffering, rocky relationships (emphasis on the rocky part)

And after all of it, you prevailed. With him.

Tl;dr: Miguel is a crybaby

It was a normal Tuesday night at the headquarters. 11 pm to be exact.

God knows why you stayed as long as you did—having to juggle missions upon missions the entire week because Miguel decided to loosely throw them at you.

Capturing what seemed like an endless sea of anomalies.

“You’re our most capable.” He had said, not even facing you when he once again sent you off on another job to fend for yourself.

Trying to ask to be replaced was met with a sounding “No.” from the big guy himself, so you stopped trying altogether.

Less questions, more work.

Even if the side of your ribs were bruised from the last encounter with a previous anomaly.

Whatever. Bringing your injury up would just have you end up being demeaned and insulted like a school kid who skipped last week’s homework. At least that was what you assumed.

You grew tired of it eventually, wanting to have more than 6 hours of sleep per day and being able to actually live your life—the birthday cake for a friend sat comfortably inside the fridge of your apartment lingers on your mind as you swung through the familiar sight of the city; another rendition of New York, another variant of an anomaly.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy the thrill and adrenaline that came with the job—no, you loved it. No one ever told you how fun being a superhero can be (aside from the decades of trauma you had to go through) and being able to propel yourself into the air with webs as the people below you gawked at your presence.

The New York breeze hit your figure like a welcomed embrace, the moon winked at you behind fading beds of clouds. You continue slingshotting yourself down the streets, deja-vu splashed in your face with how eerily similar the roads were to the ones back home; shaking your head, you let out a soft sigh and relish in the cold night’s wind.

Today’s mission: an unknown entity that plagued Earth 1610, the only information you were given via a loosely thrown together email from Miguel was that the entity could possess powers greater than we all understood—but with a limited amount of time, you would (hopefully) capture it just in time before it discovered its full potential.

You’d think with how smart the boss-man was, he wouldn’t send a sleep-deprived Spider into such missions with how severe things could turn if everything went wrong.

“I’ll send him an email to complain later, for sure.” You promised yourself; because you were supposed to do just that days ago when tasks started rolling in for you without breaks.

Solo-tasks, might you add.

A cherry on top of the already spoiled cake, salt on the wound, a slap to the face. You grunted, and an alarm sounding from nearby caught you by surprise amidst the (somewhat) quiet of the city. In the snap of a finger, you flung yourself in a different direction, changing the tides in the waves while the wind that hit your face came to a halt once you landed on a roof belonging to a rather tall building.

The viewing angle from above gave you a clear look into what had transpired underneath.

You squint, arms folded neatly in between your thighs as you crouched over the ledge of the building; from what you could see, nothing was amiss—everything looked to be in place. Letting out an annoyed scoff, you were about to turn on your tail before the ear-piercing sound of glass shattering into pieces hit your eardrums.

You immediately snapped around, and panic ensued when the people on the streets started screaming, running amok like wild animals scattering away into their safe spaces. You, on the other hand, now have to clean up the mess—you had no clue where this universe’s Spiderman was, nor did anyone brief you on it.

Nonetheless you approached the bust-up shop with a wavy heart, praying to something out there that there weren’t any critically injured persons. As you stalked near the front of the shop, you could hear loud banters inside; curious, you stare into the messy excuse for an interior: broken decors, smashed up shelvings, and items sprawled out across the floor inside.

You took the opportunity and shot yourself up to the ceiling, both your soles and fingertips clutching onto the surface, cautiously crawling further into the shop.

“Please—�� a voice yelled out, “Just let me steal your ATM machine!”

Your lips part, dumbfounded.

“No! Ey! Get away from—” You finally managed to grasp the scene that played out in front of you.

The store manager was running around with a bat in his hands, and the other person that seemed to be wearing a costume with black spots, a jean jacket slung over his shoulders and a rather cute bucket hat. To your surprise, the man evaded the attack when a black hole had been summoned under the manager’s feet, causing him to fall into the portal and out of another one…

…Right above you.

You yelped at the sudden contact on your back, the manager’s weight had you both falling face first into the shards-filled floor; his body cushioned by yours.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

The man behind you rolled off, allowing you to take a step and collect yourself as you slowly stood up. Debris started filling up your senses, and the pain from having been cut by thousands of glass shards made you wince in response. You pushed it all down, needing to finish the job as soon as possible so you could flee from more missions when you go back to the headquarters.

You even considered retiring from your spot in the team.

Speaking of spots…

You peered up, eyes catching onto the odd appearance of the man in front of you, who was still attempting to find a way to escape with the ATM. If you hadn’t been as irritated and grumpy as you were, you’d have found the situation hilarious.

“You gotta let that go, big man.” He whipped his head around, eyes darting around before locking in on you. “I’m sorry, I can’t—wait, you look different from my Spiderman.” His head tilted in confusion; you only rolled your eyes in retort, not wanting to drag your already long day out. Webs shot out of your wrists, launching them toward the direction of his foot.

Watching in disbelief as another hole appeared right where his foot would’ve been, the webs flinging into the black void and you felt the substance land on your back, knocking your balance forward.

“What the,” confused, you feel around for it, your fingers finding the source, tracing the substance behind you. “How did you fucking do that?” You glared him down, seeing his stature falter and hands thrown up into the air in defense.

“Whoa whoa, language!” He wagged a finger at you, giving you his head shake of disapproval.

“Shut up.”

“That’s just plain rude, young lady—hold on, you’re a lady right?” Your eye twitched in annoyance.

“Has anyone ever said you’re way too chatty?”

He was fidgeting with his hands, looking away and feeling nervous, unsure of how to respond to your jab. Before he could get another word out, the bottom of your feet connected with his chest, sending his body back against the wall with a loud ‘thud’ watching as he fell on his backside.

“Oof.”

He let out a soft grunt, rubbing the sore spot on his butt; right before you did a chain-attack, he caught your foot with another one of his black holes, your foot now appearing on the other side of the store and out of sight.

“That wasn’t very nice. Listen, I just need some money, let me go and—” He threw the ATM onto a pile of cans and started rolling it out of your way, pushing the huge machine as fast as he could. Pulling back your foot in time, your calf connected with his face, making him trip over the cans comically with his arms flailing in the air.

You quickly reached down to fetch your trap to secure your win.

That would be too easy, though.

Side-stepping a portal of void that almost ate you up, you winced at the pain that shot through your ribs due to your rapid movements. Biting through the pain, you maneuvered to where his body laid and tackled him to the ground once more when he tried to stand up; from then on, it was a cat fight. With you trying to get him detained and him attempting to pry you off of him.

Suddenly, another hole manifested beneath the two of you, watching in horror as you both fell through and landed harshly on top of the rooftop you originally occupied prior; the back of your head collided into the concrete ground; a poor excuse for a cushion.

It fucking hurt.

You were pretty sure you smelled blood.

He tried to get up, but you tumbled the two of you near the ledge of the building; in the midst of all the actions, he found dominance over you when he had your upper body hanging off the ledge with his grip on the collar of your suit. Blood thumped through your eardrums along with the loud horns of traffic, your heart racing in a million miles, if anyone looked up, they'd think you were insane for getting yourself in the situation.

Maybe you are.

Call for backup.

It would be so easy; the gizmo hugged your wrist, just one push of a button and someone will be here—

Too late, his grip on you wavered and you plummet into the air.

Fuck.

You quickly attempt to shoot more webs to find purchase on something, anything.

But terror washed over you the second you realized you had conveniently run out of webbing fuel—being the dumbass you were, you had completely forgotten to get it refilled before the mission at the station back in headquarters.

Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for the impact; your body going limp to soften the blow.

You let out a loud yelp when something flew out of the air beside you and clashed against your body, but you don’t feel the shock at the contact—instead, the warmth of a large arm wrapped around your midsection and you feel the cold wind whiplash you.

Opening your eyes, you were (pleasantly) surprised to find that Miguel caught you just in-time, right before you could suffer any more blunt injuries. You almost cried at the sight of him, his name teased the tip of your tongue, wanting to wrap your arms around him for a hug; you pulled yourself back just in time before you could react on your impulse.

You were still mad at Miguel, you have to act like it.

Before you know it, he came to a halt around a corner into an alleyway and swung down to place you down gently on the ground, your feet now free from the feeling of being dangled in the air. His eyes flickered over your face, then down your body; his arm still pressed into your waist as he squeezed your flesh out of instinct.

Bad move, the squeeze, no matter how gentle, pressed into your bruised rib. The pain sending a wave of shocks throughout your torso, you immediately pushed him away with a small hiss. You couldn’t see it, but hurt flashed through his eyes when you forced yourself out of his grip, his arm falling back to his side; unknowing of its purpose.

He wouldn’t willingly admit it, but the rare moments he would get to feel the heat of your body against him sent him to heaven: like that one time your shoulder pressed into his at the cafeteria, the times your naked fingers would brush over his skin, when your back used to press up on his during missions back in the days he went with you. Sinfully, he would recall that specific time your chest pushed into his torso during a stealth mission, the temptation to take you right there and then a devilish thought that circled his mind.

(Don’t ask what he had done in the shower after the mission debrief.)

That was part of the reason he had stopped frequenting jobs with you, even when you came into his office and invited him; you were met with rejections after rejections, soon enough, he noticed that you stopped trying—and the painful gnaw at his chest reminded him of your growing distant attitude with him, too. Miguel refused to let his personal life interfere with his business, and the last person he would want to hurt was you.

Unknowingly, he had done exactly that whenever he would gradually push your presence away.

Having meals weren’t the same anymore, not when you stopped showing up to his office everyday with his favorite food like a routine, he’d eat less and less as the days passed by; without you there to continuously pester him, he found himself reverting back to his old habits—working after late hours, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, barely talking to anyone unless absolutely necessary.

He had came to the realization that somehow, long ago, your presence had become such a grounding part of his life; the gentle yet persistent reminder that he deserved love and care too, to stop hogging all the responsibilities alone and share his burden with someone who he can trust, and it all manifested into you.

Miguel recognized he royally fucked up when you both barely see each other face-to-face anymore, you stopped showing up to debriefings, the only time he’d get to remotely speak to you was when he sent you off to missions.

He knew he was harsh, yes, but he fully believed in your capability to handle yourself—but while he was relentless, he still cared.

Hence why he arrived and interjected your mission, wanting to extend a helping hand.

“Fuck—what are you doing here?!” You shouted over the loud traffic, emotions taking control of your mind, before Miguel could protest, screams broke out from beside you both. “Shit, let’s get this over with, big man.”

You paused, momentarily forgotten that your webbings ran out of fuel and mentally slapped yourself in the face.

As if he read your mind, he fished out a tube from behind him and threw it your way. You caught it just in time and practically rushed to throw the lid off, tipping the mouth over to allow the liquid flow into the web gadget integrated into your suit. You threw a mumbled “thanks” his way and chucked the tube out of sight.

“Come on,” you nod toward the opening of the alleyway with an arm raised and pull yourself upward with your web.

It was supposed to be an easy job: brawl with the anomaly, win the brawl, capture it.

But this one was starting to grate your nerves—and you were sure Miguel felt the same too, you could sense the rage radiating off of his huge stature like sirens; chasing down the guy who had re-introduced himself as the Spot when you caught up with him earlier, unintentionally finding himself falling in and out of accidental portals he materialized.

“Stop running!” Yelling, you proceeded to jump into the portal he went through, he was always barely a hair away; yet as clumsy as he was, managed to get away every single time.

“Stop chasing me!” Spot shouted back, tripping over the back of his foot and almost falling into one of the portals entirely.

He managed to barely swerve out of the way when Miguel lunged at him from behind, his claws swooping in the air where Spot used to be. It became a constant back-and-forth; you would shoot yourself closer to him and Miguel would come from his back, essentially cornering him, then Spot would narrowly escape; rinse and repeat. Exhaustion crept up on you eventually, nagging the back of your mind as you tapped into your adrenaline to stay awake and alerted of your surroundings.

Miguel noticed it, too, and he went even harder—the intensity of his ferocity grew when he realized he had to end things soon before someone gets injured; he prayed to God it wouldn’t be you.

Somehow, more portals had opened up, and all you could do was avoid falling into them; the possibility of coming face first into the asphalt roads were too high for you to take the chance. Miguel almost got caught in one; hardly dodging a portal that conjured on the wall he stuck to. But unlike you, he was willing to test out his theory, reeling his body back to prepare launching himself into the portal. And he did just that—his reward? A high-five of his face with another set of walls.

He grunted, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted you latching onto Spot’s back; desperately trying to push him down onto a solid surface. You both spun into another portal and crashed on a different rooftop, Miguel rushed over with claws ravaging the innocent bricks he crawled on; when he went up, he saw the two of you gasping for air on the ground.

You clutched the side of your rib, an indescribable amount of pain overtook your senses; you were pretty sure your ankle was broken when it was caught on a pole. Spot got up earlier than you, and was about to speed off before he felt a large hand tugging at the back of his shirt.

It all happened so fast: reeling in a punch, the adrenaline pumping in Miguel’s veins, Spot’s utter shock at the face of Death himself, the supposed impact of the fist with the other’s face…

…Only for the force to be directed to you in the heat of the moment when a portal happened to manifest where Spot’s face would’ve been.

It was an accident, really, an unintentional line of actions from Spot— he was way too out of it when he figured he was about to go through his final moment; his portals shot out in panic, lucky for him, it was the reason he evaded Miguel’s death fist.

Unlucky for you, the other end of the portal had been right in front of you the whole time; yet in the midst of you processing your surroundings, you hadn’t realized quicker that your senses were screaming for you to dodge out of the way.

The conclusion? You, having just been punched in your guts, falling down a building amongst the New York you shouldn’t have stepped a foot in if you knew the outcome at all. The gust of wind pumped in your ears as you fell, and fell.

No worries—you’ve got your handy-dandy webs, right?

Oh how you wished you hadn’t been wrong.

Miguel had snatched a random refill off of his own shelf when he was about to depart, not bothering to check for its content after his recent use; just shy of a quarter, barely enough to last an average Spider’s fill an hour of webbing. In his defense, he had been distraught when Lyla popped in earlier to warn him of your vitals: most specifically your injuries. He would’ve never sent you out in the first place if he knew you suffered from broken ribs.

But all you knew was that you somehow fucked yourself over.

Panic ensued.

And now, you suffered the consequences of his actions.

“Miguel!” A call for help; he was your last hope.

The fall wasn’t a particularly long one, and you normally would breeze through the impact and pain like a champ—except you have never fell from a building with ribs that squeezed your organs tight, ankle that would most likely not support your landing even if you tried, the adrenaline you lived off of now benched on the side leaving you stranded for some form of strength to pull yourself together in the span of a few seconds.

Your shoulder hit the ground first, then your head; the harsh impact created a string of reactions to your already abused body: pain shooting up your nerves, the corners of your eyes dimming despite the bright lights flashing around you.

Unbeknownst to the three of you, policemen started showing up once someone reported a supposed break-in at the shop you investigated; the sound of blaring sirens filled your eardrums like honey whilst the flashing of red and blue assaulted your blurry sight.

Barely able to distinguish what was happening in front, you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbow; but the more you tried, the more lights started diminishing in your vision. Breathing has never felt so difficult, either.

Miguel was a step too late when he came to you; after having realized what had occurred, he dropped Spot in an instant like a hot potato, prioritizing saving you instead of proceeding with the mission’s objective. He was aware of the policemen being present at the scene when they started noticing your slumped body in the middle of the road, crowding together to watch as you struggled to lift yourself up—they all stood and observed, no one reached out to help, none.

He was by your side right away, his one hand supporting the weight of your head while the other clutching at the hem of your mask, lifting it over your eyes.

His hand felt…wet.

As if things couldn’t possibly get worse: he watched the stiff expression on your face contorted with pain, you seemed to have recognized him as you slowly reached a weak arm out to caress his face, your thumb gently glossing over his cheekbone, your touches light like feathers. His mask concealed the despair in his features, the hues of red and blues still shone on his back as everyone else stayed aside and spectated.

Your hand soon dropped to your side, unmoving, your head now heavier than ever in his hand.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Miguel held your small, delicate hand into his, the tears teasing the corner of his eye as he watched your life slipped by those eyes of yours he’d grown to adore.

“You can’t live like this, Miguel.”

Lyla crossed her arms over her chest, trailing Miguel’s tiny movements on the desk. His fingers delicately move across the keys on the keyboard, imputing password after password for locked files.

“Seriously,” Lyla sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re starting to worry me.”

“Nothing to worry about, Lyla, get me the decoded files from yesterday.” Miguel ignored her pestering, choosing to focus on his work and his work only.

That was his routine for the past 5 days or so.

After the entire slip-up in Earth 1610, Miguel had been busting his ass to hunt down the anomaly for every hour he was awake; granted, he did take care of other responsibilities too—babysitting Mayday on Monday, depatching teams to bring back more anomalies, and visiting you every day.

And also dealing with that kid he found out to be the Spider-man from Earth-1610.

He hadn’t missed a single day of visiting you, who still laid in the hospital bed at the infirmary he cleared out for you.

Everyday. On the clock. 5 am when he woke up, when lunchtime struck, and in the late hours of night when he should be spending on getting enough rest.

Lyla had been there through it all, watching Miguel’s tormented back every single minute he was awake as he continuously starved himself off of the bare minimums.

Food, water, sleep, you name it all.

And as his assistant, his well-being was her number one priority—hence the constant pestering that would be swatted away, food that went cold despite Peter having brought them in hours ago upon Lyla’s request and his growing concern for his friend in the chair. Jess’s occasional visits to check up on Miguel, wondering if the day she stepped in would be the day she would see his lifeless body on the desk with how much neglect he reflected on himself. Even the new recruits dropped in to say hello, just to see that he was doing…okay in his book: which was not okay in everyone else’s.

Everyone was worried.

About you, of course, and him too.

The situation had clearly taken a heavy toll on him.

But Lyla understood more than anyone else that it wasn’t because of his work, his dwelling traumatic past, or how he barely had any rest for the past 120 hours.

No one else knew of his infatuation with you except for her—and that was only because she snooped through his things, finding the little knit-knacks he kept from all those times you came and dropped it off: the tiny Miguel plushie you made when you impulsively decided to take up knitting that one time, the shirt of yours you had forgotten to take back when you visited his office at late hours, soaked from the rain outside and sneezing everywhere.

“Hey Mig—“ sneeze. “I came to see y—“ sneeze. “I—“ and you sneezed.

“For the love of God,” Miguel turned around, seeing your soaked clothes that cling to your body, and having to turn away for just a tiny moment to compost himself when he caught sight of your curves.

Groaning, he pulled out one of his drawers and shuffled through and fished out a new shirt—undoubtedly his with how large it was.

His shirt was a sight on you, fitting perfectly yet still draping over your thighs just slightly when you went to get changed.

The image of you that night burned into his head, forever engraved in his brain.

Then there was the polaroid picture of the two of you when you had forced Miguel to “take a selfie with me!” when you picked up a weirdly shaped camera from a thrift store in your universe (something something you saying to be smart and conserve money). “It’s called InstaX, it—here, let me show you” and snapped a picture.

In the picture, his expression was one of annoyance, and you were squeezed against his shoulder with a toothy grin on your face.

Lyla saw how Miguel would come back with tiny frames that he thought would frame the film perfectly, but ultimately was defeated when he decided to just stick it in-between the pages of his files labeled: Classified.

She was the only one ever to know the content inside: mostly pictures of Gabriella’s (poor) baking, first day at school, when Gabriella won her first competitive soccer match; and then there was you.

She knew how important you were to him; yet to her complete and utter confusion, Miguel always kept to himself about his little (big) crush—even though she could clearly tell you were just as interested as he was, too.

He was the densest man you had the pleasure of knowing.

He never made a move; and now, he might never get another chance to.

Now you were reduced to a sitting duck, once a shell of what you were; your body laid in the bed he frequented more than his own, the lively demeanor that you carried with you before turned into a tune of stable heartbeats beeping from the machinery installed next to you: the only indicator you were still alive.

Guilt was the only thing he knew for a while; when he’d step into the shower as the cold water bit the skin of his back, like he was willingly punishing himself for allowing that incident to happen.

Everywhere he went, whatever he did, he was only reminded of your face.

“If only I had been there sooner.”

He’d say to himself while he peered down at your figure, not there but, there. You were barely hanging, and part of him knew that it was your determination to fight through whatever battle was going on inside your head during the coma.

“Por favor,” his hand held yours, careful to avoid the IV’s that pricked your skin, forehead sticky with sweat after having just come back from a specifically tough mission that day.

“Concédeme este deseo.”

He would whisper sweet-nothings to you, praying to himself at night by your bedside that you’d wake up one of these days with that smile he yearned for. And for someone to finally share the extra empanadas he would always bring in, to hope that one day, you’d get to share this joy with him.

The joy of eating together again.

So imagine his surprise when he walked into your room tonight, and found you sat up with the metal frame supporting your back.

You were awake.

And most importantly, you were alive.

He had never sprinted so fast in his life; the warm pack of empanadas he brought from the cafeteria drop to the floor, the gentle ‘thud’ catching your zoned out self by complete surprise, your face softened once your gaze landed on Miguel; who was frantically patting your face and checking your vitals to confirm that yes, you are here.

Your hand reached up to palm his that lingered on your cheek, his eyes finally settled on you, slowly taking in the fact that you were now right there in front of him.

“Miguel,” a small knowing smile tugged at your lips, your eyes the most gentle he’d ever seen. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

He was still so afraid, so afraid that you would just slip by his fingers again; so he held onto you for dear life, fingers gripping your one cheek and hand with the others.

“Estoy tan contenta de que estés aquí,” You whispered.

A soft quiver of his lips; barely there—that was when the dam broke, and his tears started flowing down his sullen cheeks.

You panicked, wondering if you had butchered your Spanish so bad you shamed him to tears.

“I’m…I’m sorry?” You tilt your head in confusion and worry. Miguel only shook his head, a small chuckle emitted from him; as if he knew what you had been thinking.

“Don’t be sorry, silly.” He looked up at you with those earnest eyes of his; ones that melt your heart and warm your soul. You’d taken a liking to him early on; though you weren’t sure when it started, only where it started: during a mission, when the two of you grew physically close, so close.

His breaths fanning down your face, your breathing grew heavy with each and every second; that was when you knew you were in too deep.

You would know it’d take heaven and hell to pull you apart from this man.

There he kneeled, lips on the back of your hand as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, enjoying the way hues of red spread out on your cheeks.

There was no way of escaping it now: the pent up tension of a confession teasing the air around you both, and soon, one of you was bound to crack.

“I have something to tell you—“

“I have something to say—“

Only that you both did it at once, together.

Miguel stared at you, lips slightly parted with the ghost of his words and eyes widened, then he cracked into a fit of roaring laughter—and you joined in.

Laughter filled what was once a room only occupied by the sound of your heartbeats on the machine, the two of you clutched each other’s hand, the high soon dying down to mere giggles; as if you two were high-school sweethearts with muffled chuckles thrown at each other in the back of the class.

You two were in your own little world, a bubble that secured around your bodies, forever molding the shape of what once was and what will be.

Wiping away the happy tear in your eye, you stared at Miguel’s devilishly handsome face, and the gorgeous smile you oh-so-rarely get the privilege of seeing. The muted rhythm of his chest rising and falling, in sync to yours, like two lovers on the dance floor—not even the sky could stop your love for each other.

“I love you.”

You blurted out; sure, you were 98% certain Miguel reciprocated your feelings, but that small node of anxiety still tugged at the back of your mind, terrified that you misunderstood his gestures all these times.

But wouldn’t the words he whispered to you during your sleep be all washed away if that was true?

It was a risk, and you took it; it was now or never.

“I—“ Miguel stammered, his heart screaming at him to just lean in and—

—kiss you.

His lips were nothing like you’d ever imagine; it was all the best parts multiplied by infinity: soft, full of all the love he had to give, and passionate.

The kiss lasted for what felt like eternity—part of you wished it did, and you’d be content to die like this, your lips forever engraved on his.

Miguel swore he heard the choir sung to him, albeit with crooked notes; but maybe because he did.

He slowly turned around, and you, who also does the same.

His colleagues had been quietly watching all this time from behind the doors: Peter with Mayday in tow as she cooed at the sight, Jess and that motherly smile of hers—Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr all stood with heads peeking through the gap of the doors. Even Lyla was there, although she simply floated over Peter's shoulder, joining in on the choir; their mouths agape with barely harmonized tunes of a holy song slipping out of their mouths. Amateur at best, unbearable at worst.

Pavitr carried with the vocals, as always.

They only stopped once they realized they had been caught; thinking that you two were in too deep to notice that there were more guests coming.

“What…are you guys doing here?” Miguel asked, his tone more of a threat than a genuine question.

“We got some food—“ Peter perked up, but was instantly cut off by Hobie.

“‘o watch some sappy romance, ‘ey boss man?” Hobie high-fived Lyla's glitchy hologram, the latter wearing a smirk too wide for her face and nodding aggressively.

“Do the shoulder trick!” Miles yelled out; Gwen looked at him in horror then back to Miguel, this time, it was her who was shaking her head aggressively while crossing her arms into a giant X shape.

Miguel snarled at Miles, not appreciating the cheesy suggestion of a pick-up line while everything went so well for him before they all busted in.

“Remember to host a Sangeet bro! Oh Gayatri is super good at doing Henna—“

“Hey I wanna be the flower girl!” Gwen piped up.

“No, Miguel told me long ago Mayday would be—“

“She’s not even old enough, Peter, can she even throw a fistful of flowers?” Gwen crossed her arms in protest.

“I’ll have you know she’s an extremely capable baby, right, Mayday?” Peter looked down, only to see that Mayday had once again been chewing on his pink robe like always, blabbering with spit foaming at her mouth.

“Oh Christ—“ Jess chuckled at the absurdity of the sight, a hand on her hip and the other tracing soothing circles on her belly; just as Miguel had been doing it with your hand the entire time.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh knowing that the special moment between the two of you had been ruined by a bunch of nosy gremlins.

Your hand went up to remove his hand from his face, and even with how (incredibly) noisy the room became with banters and bickering thrown around; it was all quiet with him, only the stable heartbeats of you both reached your ears.

For once, your life was complete.

Miguel glanced into your eyes, the adoration swarmed your orbs; behind them, he could see far into the future where you both exist, always beside each other like glue to a paper—with you on his hips and his on yours.

And at last, Miguel had found what he had been missing from his life.

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

Author's note: Thank you so much for this suggestion Anon, it's my first one ever and I hope i did not disappoint u.u, I LOVED writing this and it got me tearing up reminiscing some fictional (sexy) mexican man. Hope u enjoyed!

ps: pls excuse the spanish i only have spanishdict as my holy grail (pls also DO correct me if needed!)

635 notes · View notes

guardianspirits13 · 10 months

Text

Since y'all liked my last one so much here's more "what if Pav did have his canon event" doodles 😇

#pavitr prabhakar #spiderman india #hobie brown #spider punk #across the spider verse #spiderman angst #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #fanart #fan art #myart #au #atsv #atsv pavitr #atsv fanart

981 notes · View notes

transfemarmin · 10 months

Text

miles morales x black! amab! reader

being spiderman came with responsibilities; responsibilities that miles; a fifteen year old boy; sometimes took lightly, trying his hardest to still be a hero as well as living to what he thought was right; well.. he learned his lesson.. as his face was stained with the dried blood of his now deceased lover; his hands shaking as he stared down at their corpse.. he was frozen; a shaky breath coming out of his lips, a breath he didn’t even know was there.. “ no…” his voice was cracking; as his vision blurred; staring at the person he had grown to love over the years.. all the memories they shared over the years flying through his head. . .

01:

“ miles..” [name] groaned as the boy had asked them to try to do his hair; and by do it..he meant detangle it so he could wash it. “ yes?” he turned his head to look at his partner; a grin toying on his lips; his eyes had a look of love, a look that was quickly met with a look of annoyance; “ turn your damn head back around.. before i hit you in the back of the head so hard with this brush you see next year.” [name] threatened; which made miles shudder and turn back around; so the lover he had could properly detangle his hair; a kiss was laid on top of the product full head of hair he had; “ thank you, my love.”

….

[name]…

02:

“-coming!” [name] called out as they grabbed their uniform jacket and readjusted their tie before they ran out of the school; miles had asked them to come to his house.. something about an important matter that had to be discussed with them; they were running down the side of the sidewalk as they spoke to miles over the phone; “ you can’t just…TELL me over the phone..? It’s that important?” They slowed down a bit.. once they realized the bangs of their hair was up; both due to shrinkage and due to the air that was hitting them due to their fast pace.

“ yes! it’s extremely important so..get here!” and with that miles hung up; “ …i know that lil nigga did not just hang up in my face!” [name] yelled to themselves, a look of anger on his face as he stared down at his phone, grumbling to himself as he made his way to his friend’s house; he was quickly greeted with miles sitting on the sidewalk next to his house; chewing on his bottom lip; “ miles! yo..man whats good with you?” [name] spoke; a grin making its way to his face, the anger leaving as quickly as it came once he saw his friend. the guy sat down next to his friend on the sidewalk; “ hey man..I got a question..”

[name] nodded; “ i most likely got an answer..unless it’s about math.. im the english gay not the math one.” he put his hands up; the joke leaving his lips as a giggle was released almost instantly; “ but…I got you man.. c’mon tell me.” he spoke; playfully hitting his friend’s shoulder as he spoke.

“ …how did you know..you liked boys?”

“ …what?”

“…I think I like this boy.. but I don’t know how to know if I just admire him or actually like him.”

[name] raised an eyebrow and then playfully punched his friend; “ so your ass is crushin’ on someone.. and didn’t tell me..? wow.” a playful eye roll was expected but then their expression changed to one of sincerity.

“ i just..i kissed one..and compared it to how I felt with a girl.”

“ but..I never kissed a girl.”

“ you’ve been in love with one though.” [name] spoke softly; “ that girl from another dimension? ..the one with the confusing lore behind her being.”

“ dude..you understand five nights at freddy’s lore..but don’t get the spiderman one?” miles spoke; getting a bit more interested in this conversation than..to tell his best friend.. of nearly a decade he had a crush on him.

“ i…look.. im beating the black men love spiderman allegations! “ [name] spoke and threw his head back in a dramatic fashion.

“ but…we’re getting side tracked.. what is this guy like.how long you knew him?”

“ a long time man…nearly as long as I been aliv-“ almost instantly [name] cut him off

“ okay lil nigga who else you knew besides me that long that you been keeping me in the dark about?” [name] got closer to miles; their faces mere centimeters apart.. and they watched as miles began to start sweating; the slightly taller of the two could’ve sworn he heard miles mutter a ‘ you.’

“…what?”

“ i like you.”

god

w..what happened to you?

miles took a step closer to his long term boyfriend, his eyes searching over for any signs of life.. he couldn’t even see the other’s chest moving; placing his head on his chest.. his eyes widened when he heard how..quiet it was.

03:

“ why is your heart always beating so loud? that cannot be healthy.” miles shook his head as he laid his head down on his boyfriend’s chest; a blush made its way to the other’s face and they shook their head.

“ it’s cause I love you so much..you make me nervous.” they spoke softly, wrapping their arms around the frame of their partner. “ you make my hands sweaty and shit man.. I don’t know how I’m supposed to calm down when I got this gorgeous man in front of me.” [name] spoke; miles could feel the the sweat on his hands soaking through his shirt; and his eyebrows furrowed; “ jesus I didn’t know someone could sweat this much!” soon as he said that [name] snatched their hands back

“ no! baby I was joking! put them back- dude put them back!”

“ miles…” gwen started as she was in a hurry; the spot was still attacking miles’ dimension, his world was going to collapse if they didn’t stop the villain soon… but a gasp left her mouth when she saw [name].. their clothes torn and bloodied, their eyes wide with terror and mouth slightly gaped open; miles was sobbing over his boyfriend’s body; tears rushing down at a rapid pace.

…not you too.

04:

miles awkwardly cleared his throat as his looked over at his boyfriend, the two of them were at their local burger joint.. and while it was just a hang out spot for them on usual occasions.. this was their first date.

“ so..you come here often?” miles spoke; the awkward tone was dripping from his voice.. it was almost painful

“ yeah.. I do.. I come here all the time with my best friend, miles morales.” [name] said, then they released a laugh so light, it would’ve been considered more of a giggle.

“ ah..? miles morales.. what’s he like.. he tall? handsome even?” this was making the vibe less awkward; miles leaned over the table; a smirk on his face.

“ he’s very handsome..” [name] responded; looking at miles with nothing but love in their eyes. “ he’s the only one who supports the fact that I’m not always a boy.. he listens to me rant about my interests.. and I listen to him rant about his own.. I think.. I’m in love with him.” [name]’s face got hot at that last part.. miles’ did as well.

“ ..oh?” was miles’ only response.

“ …yeah.” yeah the awkward vibe was back, and miles was desperate to return it back to how it was; he placed a hand on top of [name]’s..

“ he’s in love with you too.”

don’t leave me.

miles knew [name] was already gone; but his ear was pressed against his chest anyway; his own heart pounding at the possibility of never hearing their laugh again.. not being able to listen to them rant about lore of things miles didn’t even know the first thing about..

“ [name]… if you don’t go.. I promise.. I’ll play all those dumb scary games with you..five night’s at Freddy’s.. sally face.. those dumb roblox scary games.. please.” his words oozing with pain, he felt gwen tugging on him. they had to go.. they needed to fight the spot.. the team needed them.. there was only so much they could do without the extra eyes.. the extra hands, the extra skills..

..why didn’t he save them in time..why didn’t they stay home? he told [name] the spot was dangerous and that the only people who could defeat him was him and the spider society.. he wasn’t a spider person.. [name] was a normal civilian trying to help the man they loved.

i can’t lose you..

05:

“ [name]! guess what.” miles said with a grin; as he stared at his lover; [name] rolled his eyes playfully “ what is it?”

“ i love you.” miles had a look of love.. contentment and happiness in his eyes as he said that; [name] gave a shy smile “ …i love you too, estúpido.” the last word made miles’ mouth dropped

“ what?!” he shouted; “ where did you learn that?”

“ your mom! “ [name] said with a grin; “ she didn’t call you stupid.. she was just doing that thing..moms do when they rant to themselves and forget people can hear them.” [name] shrugged as he stared at his boyfriend

“ i just wanted to try it out…” the other gave their boyfriend a soft flick to the forehead

“ you’re very smart.. smartest boy I ever met…after me when im feeling the man in me.” [name] said as they opened their legs in that moment, manspreading; turning to miles and grinned. his eyes showing nothing but happiness and love.

“ but..seriously man.. I love you too.. so fucking much.”

…please.

476 notes · View notes

captain-lessship · 11 months

Text

His “Sidekick In The Chair” No Longer Pt. 1

a/n: No die hard comic fans come for me but I do know that Toxin (A symbiote) has helped spider man in the comics and I wanted to write something that has the potential to get funny but I will warn you, there is a sad bit in this part.

CW: Possible Spoilers (idk i know not everyone has watch the movie or read the comics)

“Every superhero has a sidekick!” He whined.

Your best friend, Pavitr, had offered to walk you home and had talked non-stop about you helping him.

“Pav,” you turned around, fully ready to shut him down but you saw the sheer hope and excitement in his eyes, “I- Fine!” You lamented. “But I am not your sidekick, we are equals.”

He smiled widely at you as he slung his arms around you, “I knew you’d agree! Thank you. And sure! You can be a hero too!”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Besides how hard could it be?”

“About that… we need suits.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, all superheroes have cool suits and besides you can sew!” He said.

“I really really hope that I get side swiped by a car.” You groaned.

“You’ll never get hurt while I am here.” He said, voice trying to be serious.

You were unimpressed, “Let’s hope you never have to use that line.” You patted him on the back.

When you got home, you immediately got to work doodling up a suit that would be fit for your rather expressive best friend and now partner in crime fighting.

You smiled to yourself as you drew and after what felt like hours, you added color. As you stared at the costume, your mind began to wonder, thinking about all the shenanigans and by relation, danger he’d be getting into and you wouldn’t always be there.

You were set on the sidelines: No powers, only your mind to help him. You knew he was smart and wouldn’t purposefully get himself in deep trouble but yet, you still worried.

And your worrying was for the best.

There was now a-

“Hole in our universe.”

A hole in your universe.

“Pav, sweet sweet, Pav,” you held your phone closer to your ear, “Why is there a god damn hole in our universe?” You yelled into your phone.

“Geez, don’t yell! Calm down, it’s being fixed and… I’m sorry.”

You were shocked. It wasn’t that Pavitr never apologized, it was that he never apologized without adding on why it wasn’t his bad.

“It’s- Pav, it wasn’t your fault. You are not responsible for other people’s actions.”

“I know, I know but I feel partially responsible: it’s my city. And there’s a hole in it.”

“It’s being fixed, it’ll be okay.”

A sudden knock on your window made you jumped and you turned in your chair to see him. You walked to your window and opened it.

He tumbled in and slumped to your bed, still in his Spider-Man suit. You sighed as you walked over and sat beside his face down figure, “So is this a ‘Leave me alone for five minutes and bring me tea’ or a ‘I am just being dramatic’ ?”

“I am not dramatic!” He shouted at you.

You just stared at him as he jerked his mask off, a very angry and hit look painted across his face.

“You know what?” He stood up, “Forget it! You don’t know the half of it!”

“Oh what don’t I know?” You said, feeling yourself become annoyed.

“What it is to be an actual superhero!”

It cut you deeper than it should’ve. There was just something about the way he said it that made you believe that he never thought you were more than his tailor and direction giver.

Anger filled you, “Oh please!” How quickly could he forget that he would not have been able to do it without you.

“You just don’t! And I don’t expect you to!”

“No, I don’t get the easy part. I don’t get the powers and I don’t get the praise but I hope you can do it without me.”

He stared at you, eyes scanning your face, “I don’t have the easy part. I have to except the fact my life is written out for me.”

“Well, should be easy to live then, the reassurance that it will all be okay must be great!” You folded your arms across your chest.

There was silence for a bit.

“What do you mean without you?”

“You said I wasn’t a real superhero,” you felt your anger subside, “And I got mad.”

He looked at you, “I am just… disappointed in what I now know my life will be like, it’s all already drawn out and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“What will it be?”

“My uncle, and every other Spider-Man’s uncle, were already destined to die. So is a police investigator that I am close to.”

You could’ve swore you saw tears form in his eyes, something that never clouded the face for your sunny spirited friend, “Every Spider-Man has a Gwen Stacy. Every Gwen Stacy falls in love with Spider Man.”

You picked up on what he meant, you walked to him and wrapped your arms around him and felt his body give slightly, sniffing and snuffling noises leaving him. “Every Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy can’t be together, can they?”

He nodded yes, acknowledging that his young love was predestined to end. All you could do was hug him.

You thought about that all through the night. Mind drifting to how sad it must be. Suddenly something touched your foot.

It was cold.

Slightly slimy.

And it was moving.

With a shaky hand you pulled back the cover, revealing a crimson colored mass.

Before you could scream, it began to rise slightly off the bed and a pair of pearly white eyes with a light blue sheen came to the thing that was in your bed.

Fear filled you as words came from the creature.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” You all but whispered.

“Are you frightened?”

“Uh, yea, no offense but it’s not everyday a random blood looking creature appears in my room.”

“I am Toxin.”

“Is there something you need or what?”

“I can make you a superhero. You would want to help your friend, right?” Toxin remarked.

“Okay eavesdropper, but how could you do that?”

“I just need your body. Then you will have all my powers.”

“Could I web swing?”

“We could try.”

“What’s the catch?”

Toxin laughed, “Smart, aren’t we? Well there is one. What you eat, I take half the nutrients. I use your body as a sort of home.”

“It won’t kill me, right?”

“No. What parasite intentionally kills their host?”

“You need a marketing class.” You sighed, “But I guess we could take one.”

“We could.” Toxin smiled widely.

You extended your hand and Toxin climbed onto it, you shuddered slightly at the feeling, “How are you gonna get inside me?”

“Take a deep breathe.”

You closed your eyes as you breathed in through your nose, feeling him slip in your nostril. It felt like when a doctor swabbed your nose to see if you had the flu. You choked slightly, feeling it drip down into your chest. Then the voice came.

“It’s nice in here.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” Toxin said, “Now, I request a sandwich.”

“PB & J?”

“Grape jelly.”

“Of course.”

Little did you know who was outside your window, having seen the encounter between you and the alien. It was Pavitr. His watch chimed.

“Canon Event Successful. Continue your work.”

439 notes · View notes

cucumberteapot · 10 months

Text

It's so interesting how all the Spider-folks share a duality identity. When Gwen presents as a civilian, she's distant and rude to people because she's traumatised by Peter Parker's death. But when she's Spider-woman, she's cracking quips and jokes and making fun of her dad and Miguel.

Then there's Hobie who literally crashes onto the scene with a rockstar guitar and starts play-fighting with Pavitr. As Spider-Punk he has a more outward persona, but when he's in Spider society he's more reclusive and observant, keeping to the sidelines until he's needed. It's also possibly that, like Gwen, Hobie's more reserved personality stems from not being able to save a police officer or something along those lines. However that situation went down, it's clearly left a mark of him that he doesn't want people to see. I think this is why his recap is so idealistic (if that's the right word) because he's holding off information about his personal life he doesn't want people to know about.

When we first see Miles again, his fight with the Spot is presented as just another day of the week. He's familiar with the locals, knows them by name and acts as a kind of community service. But when we see him in his personal life, he's become so withdrawn from his family to the point they're actually concerned for his well-being. I'm honestly curious to know how audiences would react to Miles if we didn't know he was Spider-man. If we only saw Miles from his parents' perspective.

And then we've got Pavitr, who had only been Spider-man for six months when he was recruited by Miguel and doesn't seem to share a dual personality like his other Spider-people. Fortunately, Pav is a unique case of a Spider-person who can balance their personal and secret lives and thanks to Miles, did not experience the trauma of losing Inspector Singh. This is why I feel like, unlike seeing more of Hobie or Gwen's worlds, we see Pavitr's dimension because Pav and saving his dimension is pivotal to the core theme of ATSV: Spider-man does not need trauma to become Spider-man or that changing canon will destroy a dimension.

#i'm thankful that among the angst of the other spider-people that we have pav #he serves primarily as comedic relief but he has far more narrative versatility than say Peter Porker #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #satsv #pavitr prabhakar #miles morales #gwen stacy #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown

353 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 10 months

Text

Spiderverse Characters when You Act Jealous

Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, teasing, band fans, possessiveness, kissing, comfort, sharing clothes, Miguel's fangs

A/N: There's lots of hds where the characters are jealous but what about when the tables turn?

Peter wasn't really paying attention to the people pushing mics and questions towards him, or the people trying to get up front and close, he only saw the way you frowned at it. He didn't need his powers to tell him there was something wrong with you. Not even his kiss after he came back home could make you feel better. You seemed fine before he left on his mission, so why are you angry? You know he won't even look at anyone but you? There's a reason you have that ring and your finger.

Miles hasn't been a hero for long so of course he let a bit of fame and attention go to his head. You were fine with that, what you had a problem with was how easily he talked to all the people who flirted with him. As a hero he can't reveal his relationship with you but he doesn't have to be so friendly with them either. It was silly to feel that way, he was a friendly guy by nature and of course he wanted to cheer up those he saved and... he really should wipe that dumb smirk off his face right now. This isn't the least bit funny. You're right, but you can't blame a guy for loving to feel so wanted by you.

Gwen kisses you before you even have the time to suggest that she likes a single one of her fans more then you. She wouldn't kiss them like this, she wouldn't pour her heart out to any of them, her heart will never beat for them as it does for you. You feel how fast its beating right? That's yours. Her heart is yours, her eyes are on you at every performance, every romance song is for you. Every flirty line that's thrown at her goes over her head because she only cares for them when they're from you.

Miguel knows you're jealous and you bet he will tease you for it in front of the people you're jealous of. Why? To show you that you have zero reason to feel this way. Let them hear the way your breath hitches when his fangs brush against your throat and his lips suck on your pulse point. Do you hear them cursing, pitying themselves because they're not you? Well now he feels a little bit jealous that they're hearing you. How about you two get out of here and somewhere more private to work out your mutual jealousy issues?

Hobie is almost amused at how hard your arms are wrapped around his when you're walking. That girl talking to him really worked you up huh? It was just an autograph, he's given many of them before. Yes, but you were right next to him while that girl flirted with him. You were. And he wrapped his arm around you right away didn't he? Should he have done more? Maybe give you his denim jacket? He'll do that right now. See, now everyone knows you're his. Or do you want him to stake his claim in a more obvious way? Maybe on your pretty neck, where everyone walking by can see.

Pavitr gets a little confused when you practically tackle him backwards and bury your head in his shoulder after he comes back from his mission. He was being careful this time. But that's not what's bothering you, is it? He thought so, you don't look at him like that when you're scared. Regardless he cups your face and delivers what he hopes is a comforting, deep kiss, not letting go until he hears you whine from the lack of air. You're the only one who gets kisses like that from him, or any kind of kisses for that matter. Would it make you feel better if he spent the night? He'll gladly do so, he was looking for an excuse to anyway, he misses cuddling you all night.

3K notes · View notes

muniesstuff · 9 months

Text

I really want to see fanart, fanfic, post, I'll take anything, about the fall out between spider gang and miles. I'm talking the universe said "fuck you" to both sides and made shit go sideways and fast.

Miguel said Miles dad had to die? Universe took both of his parents.

Miles still has Ganke? Universe takes him too

Miles has already seen two people die in front of him? Universe add four more and make it back to back, that little girl his dad died for, yeah she gotta go too.

Peter said Miles is a tough kid? Universe said to break him when they barely win and have him go right into shock.

Miguel said cannon events (his predictions) will stabilize the multiverse? The spot almost wipes 1610 out and nearly takes miles with it.

Peter and Gwen were only trying to do the right thing? Miles has lost everyone close to him and can never get them back.

Gwen wants to go back to the way things were? Too bad Miles can never give her that kind of trust again. He definitely can't love her in that potential romantic way again because she hurt him.

Peter wants to help the kid through this tough time? To come to an understanding? Miles understands, and he gets why Mayday comes first. But Peter hurt him too, so there are going to be a long heart to heart and a lot of tears. Their relationship has to start from scratch and slowly heal from there.

Miguel didn't think things would turn out like this? He thought Miles was the cause that he couldn't even clock the spot? He had to carry back a catatonic Miles back to hq to rush him to medical because the shock very nearly finished what the spot started.

Miguel wants to apologize? Wants Miles to get better? Miles is terrified of him, not because of his looks, but because of his actions. But they are both each other's triggers, so the first two month (out of the hospital) or so, they send each other into outburst and panic attacks. Miles is triggered by the chase. Miguel is triggered by feeling reminded of Gabriel by Miles eyes, smile, and some similarities in personality. They get there eventually, and I feel like they'll get there before peter and Miles get there. Mostly because Miguel and Miles didn't know each other like that.

Friends want to visit Miles while he's recovering? Nope, they set him off into a panic or aggressive outburst. The only person that can go in or near miles is Hobbie. At some point Pav and Mayday worm their way in. Nearing the end of his hospital stay Porker, peni, and noir also work their way in. But Hobbie becomes important to Miles very quickly as a point of trust. His main support system are Hobbie and Pav.

My point is that I want to see "your actions have consequences" and not only with Miguel. Yeah , he played a big part, but let's be honest, it all felt like a huge mental breakdown. But Peter? He was Miles's mentor, and he looked up to him. And Gwen knew Miles longer than peter did and Miles was obviously crushing on her. So, she had to hurt the most out of the two.

I just want some juice angst for everyone.

#miles morales angst #across the spiderverse #spiderdads #peter x miguel #mayday parker #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #gwen stacy #spider angst #margo kess #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #peter b parker #miguelohara

272 notes · View notes

daydreaming-en-pointe · 4 months

Text

╰┈➤ i won’t sleep till you’re safe inside.

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x Sister!Reader (platonic obviously)

Type: Fanfic - Fluff -> Angst

Word count: 8.5k (🫢🤯)

Warnings: NOT CANON-COMPLIANT! (I’ll make a list of everything that’s probably not canon but is for this fic) colour-coordinated dialogues to make it easier to understand who’s talking, starts out fluffy but evolves into angst, cussing, reader is desi, usage of Hindi (translations given, except for the Sheila Ki Jawani song), hahaha culturedumping & projection go hand in hand 😭

Some Goldenmodel (is that their official ship name??) too! (pls they’re literally so cute 🫠🫠)

A/N: Basically where Pavi loses his sister instead of Gayathri :D

The numbers at the top of every section indicate Pavitr and the reader’s age respectively (reader is older than Pavi) :)

Andddd the Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar hc continues 😁

Probably (Definitely) Non-Canon List:

-reader’s existence basically since she’s the daughter of Maya Aunty and Uncle Bhim (so she’s not technically his sister she’s his cousin but close enough!)

-I actually have NO idea how Pavi’s parents died or anything abt them so I’m basically making stuff up hehe

-Reader also gets the scholarship to Mumbattan that Pavitr got, but for a different subject

-kinda waffling on Bhim’s death since I’ve never actually read the comic where he died so idk much of anything

-Reader helps Pavi make his webshooters (kinda)

-Pav may be a teensy bit ooc I apologize for that

-there’s probably a lot more but none I can pinpoint specifically right now

(this is the song that Pav sings btw)

title inspo:

Will you call me to tell me you’re alright?

Cause I worry about you the whole night

Don’t repeat my mistakes

I won’t sleep till you’re safe inside

(Safe Inside, James Arthur)

——— ———

4 & 6.

“Didi!”

You stifled a giggle, peeking out from behind the tree you were hiding behind to see the tiny boy scrambling over rocks and protruding tree roots, his eyes squinted in concentration as he searched for you.

“Come out, come out wherever you- ai!” He cut himself off with a sharp squeal of surprise, stumbling backwards as you leaped out and bared your teeth like the demonic rakshasas that seem to lunge right off the pages of your mother’s - Pavitr’s aunt’s - mythology books.

“Not fair,” Pavitr complained, glaring up at you and crossing his arms. His nose scrunched at the injustice and you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him and ruffling his hair.

“Totally fair.”

“Nahin! Pura cheating! Didi, tum hamesha dhokha deti ho!” (No! Fully cheating! You always cheat!)

“Oy, Pavi, main kaise dhokha de rahi hai? What nonsense you’re talking.” (How am I cheating?)

“I’m telling Maya Aunty that you’re being mean to me.”

“Wait-”

“Arrey, both of you stop squabbling and come up here,” Maya Aunty’s voice carried down into the lawn from the veranda as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I made gajar ka halwa. Come eat before Bhim gets back and finishes everything.”

Pavitr’s eyes lit up at the mention of the carrot dessert, all earlier frustrations forgotten for the moment. “Race you!” He turned and darted across the lawn, his hair bobbing as he kicked up clouds of dirt under his shoes.

“Pavi, how is this fair?!”

——— ———

6 & 8.

“Didi! Checkmate! I win!”

“Ai, Pavi, that’s not… chess doesn’t work like…” He turned to you with big, shining eyes, grinning from ear to ear because he thought he had won. You trailed off with a resigned sigh, not having the heart to tell him that he had just got his own king killed.

“Wow, Pavi, you’re getting so good at this! You’re a natural!” You ruffled his hair affectionately, despite his protests and attempts to fight you off.

“Y/N! Yahaan aao!” (Come here)

You immediately perked up, eyebrows drawing together as you heard your mother’s voice, only… something was off. She sounded like she was holding back tears, the beginnings of a raw sob lingering in her throat.

“Haan, Amma? Kya hua?” (Yes? What happened?) (Amma/Maa just means mother)

She sat hunched next to the balcony, a phone in her slack grip. Your father - Pavitr’s Uncle Bhim - knelt with his back to you, holding her and rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. Tears fell from her eyes and the only sounds that split the air were her jagged heaves between soft sniffles.

“Amma? Papa, what happened to Amma?” Unease twisted in your stomach, knitting your eyebrows closer together as you moved forward and grasped your mother’s hand.

Your father turned to look at you and you inhaled sharply.

That was the first time you had ever seen your father cry.

“Pavitr’s parents were involved in an accident,” He struggled to keep his tone even for you.

“An accident? You mean…”

“Yes, beta. They’re… they’re gone.”

Your breath hitched and you backed away slightly, steadying yourself against the wall behind you.

You didn’t know much about what happened - and it would probably stay like that since you were ‘too young to bother yourself with the worries of the adult world - but you knew one thing for sure.

This is going to break Pavi.

I can’t let that happen.

You heard soft patters of bare feet on the marble floors and looked up just as Pavitr’s dark hair disappeared to the side of the doorframe.

Not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down mid-speech, you got up and left without a word, patting your mother’s hand sympathetically on the way.

You found Pavitr sitting against the tree you used to play hide and seek around. He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on his kneecaps and raising his head when you approached. “What happened, Didi?”

You grasped at words that would help convey it, but to no avail. How could you tell a 6 year old - one who was essentially a brother to you now - that his parents had died?

You had two ways out.

…I should tell him.

“Pavi… Maya Aunty will explain, but… basically, you’re going to be spending a lot more time with us - with me. How does that sound?”

Pavitr grinned, his eyes shining - and of course he had to look like a trusting puppy. Of course it had to make you feel guilty the moment those words, a romanticized version of the truth, left your lips.

“That sounds awesome,” He said happily, half-turning to wrap his arms snugly around your waist in a hug. “We’ll have so much fun! You can finally teach me how to play kancha and lagori like you’ve been wanting to! Right, Didi?”

“…yeah. You’re right.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head as he nestled comfortably against your side, the strands of hair tickling your chin as you rested your head on his. You felt tears starting to well up as the depth of the situation hit you at full force.

Kaayar. Coward.

——— ———

9 & 11.

“Didi!”

You looked up from your schoolwork as Pavitr burst into your room. “What’s going on?”

“Maya Aunty said there’s some sort of… scholarship? They said we have to go to Mumbattan!” Your eyes shot wide open and you pushed your chair back from your desk to follow him into the kitchen. What scholarship? Mumbattan?

Maya Aunty had told you both that she had submitted samples of your writing and a few of Pavitr’s blueprints for futuristic designs he had come up with for various robotics competitions, but… you never thought the entry would ever amount to anything.

“Amma, Papa, yeh sach hai? Did we get a scholarship to Mumbattan?” (Is this true?)

“Haan, beta.” Your mother looked slightly tired, weary - but ultimately happy. The happiest you had seen her in quite a while. Your father patted your head affectionately, a large smile on his face. “Well done, both of you. Mere champions.” (My champions)

The moment dissipated like it was never there in the first place when Maya Aunty’s eyebrows scrunched together with worry once more as she turned to Uncle Bhim. “Arrey, Bhim. Hum kaise kharch uthayenge? Mumbattan mei, woh kiraaya-” (How will we afford this? The rent in Mumbattan-)

The moment you heard those words, you let out a soft exhale and took Pavitr’s hand, gently tugging on it and leading him away from the ‘adult’ conversation. By now, you were almost conditioned to do your best to avoid conversations that always got your parents stressed out and sometimes led to frustrated breakdowns which simmered into tearful apologies and doubtful plans.

“Let’s go play kancha, Pavi. I’ll even let you start this time.”

You ran out onto the lawn with him, your hand holding onto his smaller one tightly as if you could protect him from all the harm and sadness and worry that the world had to offer.

——— ———

11 & 13.

“Didi!”

“Don’t didi me. You agreed to this, remember? You brought this upon yourself,” You said between giggles that got increasingly louder at how ridiculous he looked.

Maya Aunty and Bhim Uncle were both out buying groceries, and Pavitr was so bored that he accepted your challenge to see who could balance more than five stones on their forehead. And if he lost, you would get to do his hair and makeup.

That was why he was currently sitting in front of you, bright pink eyeshadow on both his eyelids and wearing the brightest red lipstick you could find. He winced in pain, loudly protesting every two seconds as you tried to put his wavy hair into a Dutch braid. He had let it grow out over the past few months, and at the rate he was going, if he left it for even a little while more it’d be longer than yours.

“You need a haircut, Pavi. I think you might be getting split ends…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression of pure horror that crossed his face at your words, which quickly turned to annoyance. “Shut up, you’re just saying that because you’re jealous- ow!”

“Whoops.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Did not.” You looped a rubber band onto the ends of the braid, finally finishing and tilting your head to critically examine your handiwork. “There, you’re all done.”

Pavitr glanced at his reflection in the compact mirror you offered him. “Wait, I don’t look that bad. I can pull this off pretty well, actually.”

“Sure you can, sweetie. Let’s do your nails now.”

“You’re the absolute worst.”

——— ———

12 & 14.

“Didi! Rise and shine!”

You groaned softly, turning over onto your side. “Get out.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet and definitely not a prime example of you being mean to your younger brother. Seriously though, we have to get going soon for school.” He expertly dodged the spare pillow you threw at him, deciding to kneel by your bedside and stare you in the eyes like some psychotic cat.

“Not everyone’s a morning person, Pavi. Besides, it’s 6 in the damn morning. Come back in another hour.”

Pavitr didn’t respond, just started humming a tune and tapping out a familiar beat on your bedside table, using two pencils from your desk’s mug of stationery as makeshift drumsticks.

“I know you want it but you’re never gonna get it, tere haath kabhi na aani…”

Your eyes shot open as you recognized the song. “No, Pavi, I swear to God-”

“Maane na maane koi duniya yeh saari, mere ishq ki hai deewani…” Stifling laughter, he backed out of range before you could smack some sense into him with another pillow.

“Pavitr! Stop!” You chucked a pillow at him, sitting up and staring at him in utter astonishment at his song choices.

“Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya, main toh khud se pyaar jataun! What’s my name, what’s my name, what’s my name…?”

“Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar, if you don’t stop singing that song right now-” You lunged forward, trying to grab him and muffle the lyrics of the Bollywood song he was singing - granted, he wasn’t a terrible singer, and in fact he could sing in Hindi quite well, but out of every song he could’ve chosen… this? “By the way, you missed a few lines, but that’s not the point! Stop it!”

“My name is Sheila! Sheila ki jawani! I’m too sexy for you, mei tere hath na aani-”

Chaos ensued in the next few seconds. Pavitr, who had been running around your room doing whatever choreography he could remember from the scene with that particular song in the movie you had both watched, tripped on the fallen pillow and fell flat on his face.

You had been chasing him around and tripped over him, rolling over and landing beside him. Luckily, you managed to break your fall with your palms.

“How’d the ground taste, hmm?” You asked, offering a hand to help him up.

“You’re mean,” Pavitr complained, taking your hand and pulling himself up. You fixed his slightly ruffled hair, a little surprised at how soft it was. Was he already going through the phase of being obsessed with how he looked?

“Yeah, well. You’re in my room at 6 am singing one of the sluttiest Bollywood songs you know, so… you’ll live, buttercup.” You gave his head a rough pat, turning to reluctantly make your bed - might as well, since you were already awake - as he hovered over your shoulder with a grin.

“But hey, it did get you up, didn’t it?”

——— ———

13 & 15.

“Didi! Where are you? I need to tell you something!”

“…I don’t understand. What are you saying?” You felt so paralyzed that you didn’t even register your brother’s voice. Instead you stared at the person you thought was your boyfriend, dangerously quiet. The calm before the storm. He shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with his sleeve and clearing his throat.

“Um, I think we should break up. I’ve kind of been… seeing another girl. Shreya.”

You were careful to keep your expression neutral, crossing your arms to prevent you from worrying at your nails. “For how long?”

“Uh, I-”

“How. Long. It’s a simple question.”

“Five months.”

“Son of a bitch.” You kept your voice low, sweeping a hand towards the door. “The exit’s there. Leave.”

“Listen, I’m really-”

“Get out. I’m serious. Get the fuck out of here before I make you do so.”

He stopped and stared at you for a few seconds, realizing just how angry you were.

“Okay. Well, it was… good seeing you, I guess. I hope you-”

“Didi?”

This time you heard Pavitr call you, soft hesitancy in his voice that carried into the room from the other side of the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Pavi, I’m fine. You can come in.” You covered the cracks in the screens of overly pleasant tones that you layered over your voice so as to make sure he didn’t worry.

He quickly entered your room, and from the way he glared daggers at your now-ex-boyfriend you assumed he had heard everything - or at least, a large chunk of the conversation.

“Hey there, buddy.”

He had the nerve to smile and hold his knuckles out for a fist bump. Truth be told, you felt a sort of bitter satisfaction when Pavitr just glared up at him and didn’t bother lifting his hand to return it.

“Fuck off.”

“What?”

His eyes widened slightly and traveled from the harsh scowl fixed on Pavitr’s face to your dangerously calm demeanour.

“You heard him, didn’t you?”

“I… yeah. I’m going. See you around.”

You followed him with your eyes as he inched toward the door, shutting it behind him.

The moment he left, your unbothered façade cracked and splintered into pieces. You moved yourself to sit on your bed, slipping the covers over your legs. “Thank you,” You murmured to Pavitr, closing your eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill. He came over to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Mat rouoh didi. Hum ek movie dekhenge?” (Don’t cry didi. Wanna watch a movie?)

“Haan, please. As long as it’s not Tees Maar Khan, I am not watching that again with you. I’ve had enough of that Sheila ki Jawani. Wait, Pavi, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

“…that’s not important right now, don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t notice him anxiously trying to peel off the edge of the blanket that was stubbornly sticking to the pads of fingers.

——— ———

A week later.

It had happened so suddenly. No one seemed to know anything.

Well, except the fact that your father had died somehow.

I know we fought a lot more in… in the end, but I love you. I always have and I always will, Papa. You made me who I am today, you taught me to know my own worth and accept no less. Believe me, I think about it every day. If you were here I’d tell you.

You wished you could say that out loud, to offer everyone present a window into your thoughts to prove you weren’t just an angsty teenager - or a family disappointment, which a few aunties seemed to believe by the way they were whispering and shooting overly sympathetic looks your way which were quickly followed up by hushed giggles.

But instead you kept your head down and used what little energy you could muster to give a nod of acknowledgement every time a distant relative - even ones you hadn’t seen since you were a baby - popped up in your face to console you.

“Where’s Pavitr? Did he come to the antyesti?” You jumped; you hadn’t noticed your mother hovering beside you until she laid a light hand on your shoulder. She seemed to move around like a spectre; dressed completely in a simple white salwaar kameez with a long white shawl wrapped around her in such a way that it obscured both her arms and her hair, along with part of her face.

“No, I don’t think so - at least, I haven’t seen him.” You looked over her shoulder at the priests starting to get everything prepared for the ceremony and searched the crowds of vaguely familiar people.

Where the hell is he?

Getting the priests to agree to Pavitr - who wasn’t exactly Bhim’s son but the closest thing to it - leading the rituals was hard enough. But then again, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice, did they? You couldn’t exactly do it - the rituals of an antyesti were to be performed by the eldest son. Or the priests themselves, if he couldn’t do it for any reason. Never a woman.

You and Maya Aunty weren’t allowed to do anything except watch and pray.

And now if Pavitr didn’t show up in time-

Thwip! Thwip!

You frowned and shook your head slightly, wondering what the source of that noise was. Oh, well, probably just a pesky mosquito buzzing in your ear.

“Didi, Maya Aunty, I am so, so sorry that I’m late. Did they start already?” You jumped again in surprise - what was it with people sneaking up behind you today? You took in Pavitr’s crisp white dhoti and neatly styled hair, and for a second you couldn’t decide whether to hug him or punch him in the face.

“I’ll tell you everything later, didi. Pinky promise,” Pavitr murmured to you, offering his pinky to you. You linked your little finger with his, looking into his eyes as concern bubbled up to mix with the hurricane of emotions already clamouring for attention in your brain.

He had horrible bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept properly in a week. And when you gently squeezed his pinky, his breath hitched as if he was in pain and he drew his hand back after a few seconds. You blinked in confusion, getting a brief glimpse of painful-looking faint purple splotches all along his hand and the underside of his arm. They looked like bruises that had been poorly covered up by foundation that was almost three shades too light for his skin, but before you could say anything he turned to make his way through the crowd.

“Pavi-” You started to ask what was going on, what happened, what was wrong, but he just shook his head, angling his chin toward the priests waiting patiently for him.

“Badh mein, didi. Antyesti ke badh.” (Later. After the antyesti)

——— ———

After the ceremony.

“Pavitr Prabhakar, if you don’t tell me what’s going on-” You came face-to-face with one of your more distant aunties, who immediately lit up excitedly in a way that was probably not suited for a cremation ceremony as soon as she recognized you.

“Arrey, beta! You’ve grown so much! How old are you now? You still sing, no? Kya aapne college ke bare socha hain?” (Have you thought/started thinking about college?)

“Haha… hi, aunty… no, aunty… no, I haven’t thought about college yet… have you seen Pavitr anywhere? I need to find him and it’s really urgent but… oh, uh… yes, of course, I would love to catch up over chai sometime. Sure, we should plan that - oh, sorry, bye! Tell my mother that I’ve gone to look for Pavitr, okay? Thank you!”

Seizing the opportunity that presented itself in the form of another aunty who came waddling over to greet the first one, you squeezed through the crowd of people in sarees and dupattas, some milling about and some dispersing, all accompanied by the almost suffocating smell of jasmine. God, did everyone use the same horrible perfume?

Luckily for you, the antyesti was held fairly close to your house - on a large terrace that was only about a 15 minute walk away.

You got to the front door and fumbled with the set of keys in your pocket for a second, your fingers shaking slightly as the shock and grief began to set in. Adrenaline could only take you so far, it seemed.

“Pavi? Pavi, I’m home, where-”

You opened the door to your room and inhaled sharply at the sight that lay before you. Pavitr leaned against your bed, sitting on the floor with his knees hugged close to his chest, chin resting on his kneecaps. His eyes were squeezed shut, eyelashes fluttering as tears slipped out one after another from underneath them.

“Pavi…? Oh, Pavi, mera chhoti bhai, kya hua? Kisi ne… tumhein chot pahunchaee?” (My little brother, what happened? Did… someone hurt you?) You scooted closer to Pavitr, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him into your side. He buried his face in your shoulder, tears soaking through the thin fabric of the kurta you were wearing.

“Shh. Sab theek ho jayega. Mujhe batao, Pavi. Kya hua?” (Everything’s okay. Tell me, what happened?)

“I’m Spider-Man.”

You blinked in surprise. Out of all the possible explanations he could have offered you, that was certainly not on your list. “Spider-Man? Matlab… the superhero?” (Matlab means meaning)

The hero had emerged only a week ago. Wearing an intricately patterned mask that left his wavy hair loose at the top, a blue-and-red spandex suit and blue dhoti pants on top of them, he was basically impossible to ignore. You had seen some key similarities between Spider-Man and Pav’s hair, but you had always just assumed it was related to how boys cut their hair like their idols sometimes.

“Chacha died because of Spider-Man. Because of me. He got caught in the crossfire and I couldn’t reach him in time and-” Pavitr’s words spilled together in a panicked haze, blurring each syllable and tripping over letters in an attempt to get them out before he could break again. (Chacha is another word for uncle)

You shifted to face him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Shaant ho jao. Main yahaan hoon. Main kaheen nahin ja raha hoon.” (Calm down. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere)

“I can’t-” His breath quickened as his whole body started to heave with dry sobs. “Please just… just listen to me. This is what I wanted to tell you last week. I’m Spider-Man.”

He mistook your silence as a sign of disbelief and carried on speaking, trying to convince you. “There were these bullies I was running from, and I tripped and fell into a tree hollow and there was this yogi who said he’d give me the powers of a spider to fight the evil in this world, and I didn’t know it would turn out like this so I accepted and-”

“I believe you.”

That caught him off guard. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes wide. “You do?”

“Of course. You think I haven’t noticed you sticking to everything? You almost ripped the couch’s upholstery clean off because you weren’t paying attention.” You gently swiped your thumb near the corner of his eye, wiping away the tear that was at risk of spilling out. “It’s okay, Pavi. Let’s.. talk about something else for the moment.”

As much as you wanted answers - how exactly had your father died? Which sick, twisted, psychotic ‘villain’ killed him? - you knew when to stop pushing Pavitr and now was definitely that time. Tears still shone in the corners of his brown eyes, not quite ready to fall but not small enough to be blinked away.

“Spiderwebs!”

“What?”

“You need spiderwebs, naa? So you can swing like a spider instead of leaping around and relying on sticking to whatever surface you can reach. Ooh, it’d be so cool if you could shoot them from your hands and lasso bad guys and when they fight back you go dishoom dishoom.” (dishoom is basically just a sound effect for beating someone up 😭 usually punching someone)

“… you mean webshooters?” Pavitr watched your emphatic display of just what dishoom dishoom meant to you with a mildly concerned look on his face before he took a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and smoothed it out. It was filled with designs for some sort of gadget, the sharp, jagged pencil lines highlighting every feature and listing possible building processes.

“I’ve done some research and I’ve got everything, so I know how to make it. But I need something that can contract if I wrap a web around it… kind of like a yo-yo? But it also has to fit on my wrist so that it’s easy for me to angle where I want the web to go.” He absentmindedly tapped the pencil against the silver bangle you were wearing. The soft clinks gave you an idea and you quickly got up, going to your dresser and rummaging around in the drawers.

“Wait, I think I might have something that’ll work…”

Your fingers closed around what you were looking for and you fished it out. You held two large golden cuffs in your hands, but they weren’t regular heavy cuffs. The top and bottom were actually two separate pieces, joined together in the middle by a stretchy piece of white nylon that went all the way around.

Just looking at it made your heart ache a little as all the memories associated with the simple accessory came flooding back.

Your father had given it to you a few Diwalis ago, when you were throwing a tantrum about having to wear the large bangles to go to with the itchy salwar you had on - against your wishes, of course. But your mother warned you that her mother was a stickler for traditions and insisted on everyone wearing the most colourful ethnic wear you all had, including Pavi.

Your father had slid one of the cuffs onto your right wrist, laughing gently at your surprise look when you discovered how light they were, a stark contrast to the gold bangles that weighed down your other wrist.

“Compromise paaya, hain na?” (We’ve found a compromise, right?)

“Haan, papa.”

Now, more than eight years later, you held one of the last things you had left to keep your father’s memory alive.

And what better way to honour him than to use his kaadas to fight evil and protect the city?

“Use these.”

Pavitr looked up and immediately shook his head, gently pushing away your outstretched hands. “No, didi, I can’t- this is what Uncle gave you-”

“I know. He gave them to me as a gift. And now I’m passing them down to you. Please, Pavi. Take them.” You took his hands, pressing the kaadas into his palms and closing his fingers over them.

Something in your tone made him search your gaze for a few seconds before giving in and bringing the cuffs up to his eyes, testing out the nylon middle. “Wait, this is perfect. If I can just…”

He reached into the depths of one of your drawers and pulled out a small device that looked like it had some sort of fluid sloshing around in its… fuel container, maybe? You furrowed your brow in surprise. “Has that always been there? In my cupboard?”

“Well, yeah. Can’t have Maya Aunty accidentally pulling it out of mine, can we?” He gave you a grin. “Besides, you have so many things stuffed into that one drawer that it’s basically impossible to find.”

He attached the device to the inside of the cuff with a small click and slipped it onto his wrist.

Thwip! Thwip!

With two tiny flicks of his wrist, he had shot two webs to the ceiling and was now hanging upside down, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, this is working pretty well-”

Thud.

“Don’t you dare,” Pavitr warned you as he winced and rubbed the spot where he had fallen on his backside.

“I will not laugh. I will not laugh. I will not-”

You couldn’t help but burst into giggles at his mildly pathetic sad-puppy expression as he sat dejectedly on the floor after falling from the ceiling.

“So, uh… the web strength may need some work.”

“Everybody, this is Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar, Mumbattan’s Spider-Man.” You pretend to speak into an imaginary microphone, gesturing animatedly towards Pav as he lay on the floor.

“Oh, sure, announce it to the whole world, why don’t you,” He grumbled, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet.

You gave him an overly sweet smile, leaning over to mess up his hair. “Never. I’m gonna take this secret with me to my grave.”

——— ———

14 & 16.

6 months really went by quickly.

6 months of monthly poojas to honour your deceased father. 6 months of Pavitr being Spider-Man. And also…

“Didi! Why isn’t my hair staying down?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because that bad guy threw you into an electricity tower? Pavi, why are you dressing up all of a sudden anyway?” You sat on the floor of your room as you skeptically watched him brush out his hair. He had insisted that your mirror was big enough and ‘had the best lighting’.

He stayed silent, though you could see him scrunch his nose a little in embarrassment. The realization hit you and you let out a loud - maybe overly dramatic - gasp.

“Oh my god! You have a date!”

“…maybe. So?”

“So that means I get to meet and terrorize them! You know, sibling stuff!”

Pavitr froze for a split second, a small smile starting to form in the corner of his mouth at the last part. Siblings. In all honesty, didn’t that word describe the bond you both shared almost perfectly? Siblings - not by blood, but by something so much bigger than either of you could’ve imagined.

“Absolutely not. Gayatri’s-”

“Gayatri? Is she Punjabi? Ooh, is she pretty? Is she really badass and cool and-”

“She’s a model,” Pavitr interrupted, smoothing down his hair and glaring at you. “And this isn’t my first date with her. Just for the record.”

“Wow, and she’s your age? Damn, Pavi, you managed to pull a model! I’m so proud of you right now.”

“I will strangle you if you don’t stop talking,” Pavitr grumbled, punching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not saying anything bad!”

“Sure you ar-” Pavitr stopped mid-sentence and stiffened, craning his neck and glancing out the window over his shoulder like a cat that had heard something strange. “Wait, someone’s here. Gotta go!”

He dashed into the bathroom and came out two seconds later, fully decked out in his spider suit and mask.

“Don’t get your ass kicked!” You called out as he nose-dived out the window.

“Ha, ha! Very funny!”

——— ———

10 minutes later.

“Pavitr, what the hell?!” You leaped backwards as a strange sort of alien materialized in your room for a split second before they disappeared into a black hole-like void, followed by a… Spider-Man? Not Pav. This one was taller and his suit was red and black, and oh God, was he bleeding from his armpits?

You were tempted to offer him a few cotton wipes and something to clean the wound but he disappeared in after the weird teleporting alien before you could ask.

Pavitr came crashing in through your window, landing on the floor and glancing around. “What? I thought they came here-”

“Really?! Now you show up? I’ve just had some sort of cow-man and a new Spider-Man teleport into my room through a pit and-” You stopped short as another Spider-Man landed on the floor. Except… Spider-Woman? She wore a suit in the shape of a white-and-black ballet leotard and had a hood with web designs on the inside.

“Pavitr, is… this Gayatri?” You tried to wrap your head around the fact that there were three different types of Spider-People and a cow on the wrong side of evolution who had just phased through your house. “Oh, hi, Gayatri, I’ve heard so much about you. Pavi thinks you’re really classy and cool and you’re the prettiest girl alive and-”

Pavitr webbed a pillow and swung it into your face before you could finish, temporarily shutting you up. “Didi, this… this isn’t Gayatri.” Despite his face being covered by his mask, you could tell from his tone that he was embarrassed out of his wits. “This is, uh… this is Gwen. She’s a Spider-Woman. Look, it’s hard to explain, but they’re all from different universes and I think the New Guy’s in love with Gwen, so we gotta go save their romance before it shatters. Bye!”

He leaped out the window again, followed by Gwen - who was stuttering and tripping over her words trying to form a plausible denial for his last statement.

Never a dull day in Mumbattan, I guess.

——— ———

5 minutes after that ordeal.

“Arrey, your chai is getting cold. Drink fast, no?”

“Haan, Amma. Ek second.” (One second) You moved away from where you were hovering near the window. As much as Pavitr reassured you that he was okay, that being Spider-Man was easy now - you still remembered having to disinfect wounds and ice bruises and watch him hiss and crinkle his face up in pain every time you wiped a tissue soaked in Dettol along his cuts.

Maybe those were only fairly harmless flesh wounds, but what kept you up at night was the worry that one day it might turn into something worse.

“I’m drinking it,” You said defensively and sat down as Maya Aunty lifted an eyebrow at you over her own mug. Just as you sat down the whole ground seemed to shake, a horrible din filling the air, screams and the sound of rubble falling mingling together in the cacophony.

“Oh, someone blew down Alchemax,” said Maya Aunty once the noise died down. With a small shake of her head, she casually returned to her chai as if this sort of thing happened almost every day.

“What an idiot.” You glanced out the window, squinting into the distance and widening your eyes as your eyes snagged on a flash of vibrant fabric flying through the air, just barely visible through the pieces of flying rubble.

Oh, fuck, that’s my idiot.

——— ———

You figured the easiest and fastest way to get near Alchemax was to take the bus. After all, those bus drivers had basically decided long ago that they were above the rules of the traffic. They honestly didn’t give a damn about the speed limits and you respected that.

“Hi, Y/N!” You turned at your name, tilting your head curiously because you didn’t recognise the voice.

You found yourself looking at someone who looked oddly familiar, you just couldn’t place it - until you glanced briefly out the window and saw a Zomato billboard. Of course if had to be her, how else would she know your name?

“Oh, are you Gayatri? Hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you from Pavi.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, and likewi-“

The bus swerved sharply and you, Gayatri and more than half of the people who weren’t holding onto the railings were slammed against the back window before the bus started to tilt forward. You blinked away stars for a few seconds as the wind was knocked out of you.

When you regained your vision you let out a yelp of surprise. Someone yelled “Fuck!” right next to you, followed by a string of unrepeatable Marathi cusswords - while also listing out gods and praying to them that they’d make it out alive - and you could understand why.

Some dumbass - or maybe a large piece of rubble - had ripped a hole in the middle of the fucking Mumbattan Bridge. The whole bus was falling right into that hole, and unfortunately the bus driver’s magical ability to fly straight over potholes seemed to have evaded him right now, judging by the fact that he was currently contributing to the chorus of terrified screams.

“Hold on!” Gayatri caught your forearm right as your grip on the flimsy side railing was loosening and pulled you up to latch onto the railing at the back. Good lord, was this girl strong. You decided right then and there that you definitely liked her.

You saw Pavitr stop mid-swing and turn around, his mask’s eyes widening as he saw both of you pounding relentlessly on the back bus window in the hopes that it would break in time.

He shot a web that stuck to the back of the bus, tipping it almost vertically as he held onto one of the bridge supports. His eyes narrowed with effort as he struggled to hold onto the deceptively delicate-looking silky tendrils.

You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for the time when Pavitr fell from the ceiling 6 months ago. If that hadn’t happened, you and the other people on this bus would’ve been flattened on the ground by now. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down.

Pavitr glanced behind him, his shoulders falling slightly in shock. The web holding onto the bus stretched and dipped, threatening to snap any second. He wrapped the silken web around the support, trying to bring it up.

You and Gayatri were just barely hanging on, your entire bodies dangling down with gravity as you held onto the railing for dear life.

Suddenly something changed. Another web attached itself to the bus and pulled you onto the bridge. Another Spider-Man, possibly?

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as the bus levelled itself on solid ground again. Gayatri gave you a weak smile, grasping your hand and pulling you straight into the throng of people rushing to exit the bus.

The moment she stepped outside Pavitr wrapped her in a hug, eliciting a surprised squeak from Gayatri.

“Are you okay? I was so worried-” He realized his mistake mid-sentence, drawing back from her and patting her shoulders with both hands, unsure whether to cross his arms or rest them on his hips. “Uh, you seem like a nice young woman who I do not know…”

Gayatri chuckled softly and looked past him. “Papa!”

“Gayatri!”

She ran at him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Seeing their bond warmed your heart but also made it ache slightly with the acceptance that that could never happen to you with your own father.

“Real smooth, Pavi,” You grinned at your brother, who grumbled something under his breath and closed the distance to crush you in a hug.

“Shush, didi. I just saved your ass.”

“Yeah, I suppose you did.” You ruffled his hair affectionately and pulled back, smiling at the growing shouts of ‘dhanyavadh, makhdi-bhaiya!’. (Thank you, Spider-Guy!)

“Amma’s going to kill you, by the way. She thinks you snuck out to go to some p-”

You let out a soft mmph as you collided with possibly the boniest person you had ever had the misfortune of bumping into. You were pretty sure you had just got stabbed in seven different places by various joints.

“Sorry, I didn’t-” You paused as you looked up, taking in spikes, a leather vest, pins, a guitar, and mask eyes which looked like running mascara.

“Holy shit, you’re really cool.”

The Spider-Man variant blinked in surprise and let out a laugh. “Why, thank you, poppet. I try. Pisses the fascists off so much that they call me Spider-Punk.”

You heard the twang of a well-known (almost infamous, at least in Mumbattan) accent and glanced at Pavitr. “He’s British,” He confirmed, giving Hobie a high-five.

“Well, I don’t care. He looks awesome.”

“Oi, Pav, I like this one.” He gave you an appreciative fist-bump, and you lifted your eyebrows at the sheer size difference between both of your hands.

“That’s my sister.”

“Makes sense. But you know I didn’t mean it like that. She seems cool is all.”

“Wait. If you’re British, can you do us a favour and steal back the Kohinoor? Please?”

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises. Fuckin’ Sweeney*, I doubt they even know where it’s kept.” (*Sweeney/Sweeney Todd - Cockney rhyming slang for Flying Squad [the police])

You nodded along politely with a smile like you actually understood even one word of that sentence. “Well, okay, in that case-”

You turned and almost burst out laughing. Pavitr looked like he was on the losing end of a staring contest, his hand almost engulfed in Inspector Singh’s much bigger one. Gayatri stood behind him, looking between them in awe. “I’ve never seen him so emotional.”

“Excellent job.”

Your bother just gave a nod, but knowing Pavitr he was internally over the moon and would hold that simple statement close to his heart, insisting that his girlfriend’s dad “loved him”.

“Man-like Miles, my guy!” Hobie grabbed the red and black Spider-Man - Miles’ - shoulders and shook him excitedly, punching him lightly as the people of Mumbattan started cheering.

You were about to join in when something happened. Well, not happened, really, but… something felt off somehow. You had read something once that said a person’s hair stands on end as a warning when lightning’s about to strike. You imagined that’d feel like you you were feeling right now. And you could hear whistling… was that sound just your ears being weird?

The cheers died down suddenly and you turned around too late. One of those portal-holes, slicing through the air like a deadly frisbee, slammed into you and knocked you inside in such a way that you got teleported straight off the side of the bridge. You scrabbled for the supports, but to no avail as you sailed right past them.

You heard Pavitr’s panicked yell, the sounds of confused and worried chatter bubbling among the ground, and the air rushing around in your ears as you free-fell.

You can’t save me, you realized as you saw Pavitr dive off the bridge, reaching out his wrist in preparation of shooting a web. You won’t get here in time. You focused on mouthing the next few words that came to your mind, because if you were going to die and leave your brother you would do so by reminding him that he was - and always would be - loved. Pavi, I’m sorry. I love you. I always will.

Your stomach dropped and your head spun - but by some mercy you didn’t feel the final impact.

——— ———

Pavitr’s POV.

“No, no no no- please, please no-”

Pavi, I’m sorry.

I love you.

Six words. Six words which shouldn’t be used in the same sentence. Those two sets separately, sure, but in very different scenarios.

Those would not be the last words you said to him. They couldn’t be.

Time seemed to slow down, making his movements sluggish and hazy. He stretched his wrist out till it ached, silk erupting from his - no, your - kaada. Come on, come on…

The silk shot toward you and for a second he thought it would reach in time.

Then he heard a crash and watched you fall straight through the flimsy tin roof of an abandoned warehouse. “No!”

He landed after you, shooting a web at a street lamp and pulling up to break the built-up momentum at the last second. Kicking down the warehouse door, he rushed over to your limp form, sprawled across a few empty crates in the dimly lit space.

“Nonono you have to stay with me, please don’t go, I can’t-” Pavitr swallowed hard as he picked you up and set you down with your back against the wall, holding up your jaw so your head didn’t fall forward. He snapped his fingers in front of your face two, three times - no response.

He could feel his vision starting to blur, heart practically causing an earthquake as he shakily put his finger to the pulse point on your neck.

Nothing.

“No,” He whispered into the still air, as if that would be able to revive someone who was so much more than just a cousin. You were his sister, his closest and most annoying friend, his anchor. You were supposed to be a constant in his life. If you were gone… what would go next?

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, cradling your lifeless body in his arms. But after a little while Hobie dropped in through the hole in the ceiling, and Miles and Gwen came in through the door. He didn’t understand anything they were saying. Pavitr felt like he was underwater, the cold, murky silence filling his ears and bleeding into his brain.

Someone else, much bigger than him tried to drag him away. Someone wearing a beige police uniform and a turban. He kicked and fought, screaming at them that they didn’t understand, he couldn’t leave you, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. That you were going to wake up soon. You were only unconscious, after all. You had to wake up sometime.

You had to, right?

Pavitr watched as you were placed on a stretcher, a white cloth laid over your body. He slumped in the hands of whoever was struggling to drag him away as all his hopes of you waking up splintered into a million pieces. Pieces that he would step on and trip over and they would cut his skin a billion times. Little tiny paper cuts. Paper cut after paper cut, till he bled out.

Through whatever shocked haze his brain was forcing itself into, he knew that something inside him had broken. Duct tape could fix it. Duct tape could fix anything. Was this metaphor for something? His brain really needed to slow down, he couldn’t keep up with what was and what wasn’t fixable with a single roll of duct tape.

He pictured his heart, the muscles and blood vessels torn clean through in the centre, forming a hole in the shape of you. Did it stop beating? It felt like it stopped beating. Was there a way to check if he was still alive? He hoped he was. Though there didn’t feel like much reason to be. Not anymore, at least.

Oh. Maya Aunty. Someone would have to tell Maya Aunty. No, he would have to tell Maya Aunty.

Two funerals in the span of 6 months. Two core members of the family gone.

Twin flames burning warm and bright, always lighting up the entire place with their own unique luminosities, until they couldn’t anymore. The wicks were extinguished and the candles melted into stumps before their time.

The Spot knew exactly what he was doing, Pavitr realized. Because he might as well have set fire to his entire home.

——— ———

15 & still 16.

Pavitr Bhim Prabhakar was many things.

He was Mumbattan’s Spider-Man. He was Maya Aunty’s nephew. He was Gayatri’s boyfriend. He honoured his dead parents with his last name. He carried the legacy of his dead uncle with his middle name alone.

Most of all, he carried the memory of his sister in every scar that he got that day.

Suddenly every moment you had spent with him seemed too little. Even just one of your hugs would take away some of the pain.

Keep them in your heart, they’re watching over you. Recall the memories you made with them.

What did that even mean in this case? You had gone too soon. Dead, cremated at 16. You weren’t even an adult. And what hurt the most was that everything - from your room to your belongings - was exactly how you left it.

It had been almost 3 months and he still hadn’t let anyone change anything in your room. The messy duvet could stay messy. And the pillow that was thrown at the foot of the bed had taken up permanent residence there.

The room smelled like vanilla and honeycomb. And it would stay that way for as long as he could help it. If someone rearranged anything, would that part of you disappear from this house? He didn’t want to find out.

Everything that made this room yours would stay there, it had to. The way you meticulously arranged every makeup and hair product by height, colour and serial order on your chest of drawers. The way your cupboards always smelled of cotton candy because of an essence diffuser your friend had given you.

Gayatri, Miles, Gwen and Hobie had all tried their best to help him, and Margo had even dropped in a few times and offered to play video games with him. And admittedly, he was in a much better frame of mind than how he was only a little while ago.

He sat on the floor, hugging his legs loosely to his chest and clutching a mug of chai in one hand. Pavitr couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to; the altogether lack of the owner of this room made the silence even more oppressive and suffocating.

He stretched his legs out slowly, refusing to let his mind wander. Focus on the wallpaper. Focus on the sound of traffic. Focus on the chai. Focus on anything except the posters, the pillows, the way that it felt like time itself was holding its breath inside this room.

Pavitr’s leg brushed something hidden underneath the rug in front of him. Frowning slightly in confusion, he leaned forward to peer underneath the fuzzy square of fabric - finding nothing but a small notebook and a pen.

He pulled it out and, upon recognizing it, drew in a surprised inhale. The leather-bound cover was dusty and worn out. The label that read Bhim Prabhakar in neatly printed handwriting had been scratched out, jagged words cutting across the paper like tiny knife strokes. His heart squeezed when he read the word written in the second handwriting.

Y/N.

Of course he remembered this book, how could he not? On days when you had noticed he felt sad, you tore out two lined pages of paper and made him write down what was bothering him in a letter.

“Here, Pavi. Write it to anyone you want, and fill it out with everything bad that happened today. You don’t have to send it to them, don’t worry. I’ll even do it with you.”

He still remembered the first time he had done that activity with you. You both sat back-to-back, scribbling down all the ‘yucky feelings’, as you had put it once. Pavitr had finished his letter and surprised you by addressing it to you, twisting around to hand you the folded piece of paper.

You hadn’t addressed your letter yet, so you wrote his name on the top in big block letters.

To: Pavitr Prabhakar.

Because it was a very official document, you had explained solemnly.

And when you took a look at how he had mentioned you, you had lunged forward and trapped him in a bone-crushing hug.

To: The Best Didi In The World.

He felt tears well up slightly as he recalled the amount of times he went and wordlessly sat at the edge of your bed, pointing to the leather journal. And you would pull out two pages, hand him a pen, and sit back-to-back on the floor. Every time, without fail.

Pavitr opened the book, running a hand along the pages of handwritten letters that were unevenly glued or stapled in. Some were tearing at the edges, others had chai-stains or ink splotches.

He carefully pulled out a page - only one this time - and picked up a pen from the mug of stationery on your bedside table.

Pausing to think for a second, he tested the pen on the bottom of the page. Then moved the tip to the first line.

Dear Y/N,

Pavitr stopped and narrowed his eyes at that. It felt strange, almost alien for some reason. A foreign word on these pages.

He tapped his pen on the page as he got an idea. He scratched out the two words he had written, addressing it to someone with a different yet more familiar title, at least to him.

To: The Best Didi In The World.

I know very little about the antyesti process so if anything’s wrong don’t hesitate to correct me! <3

Glossary:

Antyesti - Antyesti literally means "last sacrifice" or "final auspicious ceremony", and refers to the funeral rites for the dead in Hinduism, which usually involves cremation of the body. This rite of passage is the last samskara in a series of traditional life cycle samskaras that start from conception in Hindu tradition.

Saree/Sari - A saree is a garment consisting of a length of cotton or silk elaborately draped around the body, traditionally worn by women from South Asia. It is usually worn with a blouse that exposes part of the midriff, but blouse styles can vary.

Dupatta - A length of material worn arranged in one or two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez or a kurta, worn by women from South Asia. (Srry guys u have to look up those two definitions if ur curious,, it’s better to see how it looks rather than read a description anyway)

Kancha - Kancha is played by using marbles. It is popular in small Indian cities and villages, among small boys only as a gully sport. It is rarely played by girls. The participant has to hit the marble kept in a circle. If he hits the target properly, he wins. The winner gets the kancha (maybe kanche is the plural form? idk) of the other participant boys.

Lagori/Pithoo/Seven Stones - Lagori is a traditional game from the Indian subcontinent. It involves a pile of stones and a ball.

A member of one team (the seekers) throws a ball at a pile of stones to knock them over. The seekers then try to restore the pile of stones while staying safe from the opposing team's (the hitters’) throws. The hitters' objective is to hit the seekers with the ball before they can reconstruct the stone pile. If the ball touches a seeker, that seeker is out and the team which the seeker came from continues, without the seeker. A seeker can always safeguard themselves by touching an opposite team member before the ball hits the seeker.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @vhstown

93 notes · View notes