#spider doesn't have a good time guys

[mochalottie]

And as soon as the glass shatters, the water is rushing up and over his head. And before he knows it he goes from floating to falling…

And landing, once again, on the bridge. His breath bursting from his lungs with barely contained relief, loud enough to turn some heads. He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders slumping with relief when they only roll their eyes and turn away. 

He leans against the console again to watch the cameras, waiting the few extra seconds it takes for the explosion to occur. The fire is bright and intense, and suddenly the navigator next to him snarls. 

“Kid, why didn’t you say anything?!” he asks, and when Spider turns his confused expression to him, the guy furiously points at the screen. “You would have easily seen him and warned us. What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

He feels his brow scrunch violently, and decides then that he’s sick of going by a set beginning. And instead of launching himself at the fire extinguisher, he throws himself at the navigators instead, aiming his fist at the one who shouted at him first. 

[imminent-danger-came]

YOU think MK is a selfless forgiving good boi mc. I think he's self-centered, but that doesn't devalue the good deeds that happen as a result. We are not the same

[ilovettrpgs]

rip Magnus Carter you would have loved causing problems for the general public and also not having mad cow syndrome

[thepandalion]

anyways casual minor infodump abt the panopticon to my mom at 10pm at night

[atlabeth]

bend an ear

pairing: peter parker x fem reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't listen to you. good thing your friendly neighborhood spider-man does.

a/n: there's just something about him idk. andrew garfield spidey bc of course! look at him! this came from me playing the spider-man game after it went on sale and yearning for peter parker (will prob have to rewatch the movies bc of this) anyways hope you like it

wc: 3.6k

warning(s): reader's bf is shitty -- they argue for a while and he lowkey slut shames her. but this is basically all fluff otherwise bc childhood best friends to lovers babby!!! real yearning loverboy hours!!!

Peter just wants to go home. 

It’s been… a day. He got his ass kicked by an English test (he doesn’t have time to do the readings when he’s fighting crime), got his ass kicked by Flash Thompson (it’s not like he can fight back with his super strength and pulverize his ribs), and has spent every second since his final class ended fighting petty crimes around the city. 

Stopping ATM thefts and minor muggings feels good, sure, but on days like these, it doesn’t really make up for failing intro literature classes and getting absolutely zero sleep. He’s just thankful May is still letting him live with her while he studies at ESU—if he had to do all of this in addition to trying to make his rent? He doesn’t really want to think about it. 

So he swung his way to the roof of some random building, and he’s taking a break. Sue him, but Peter thinks he deserves it. What’s the point of living in a city like New York if you can’t have a second to yourself every once in a while? 

He’ll go home soon. Grab a bodega sandwich, maybe stop another crime, and then get home for some much needed rest. But for now, he’s just going to sit on this rooftop and relax for a second. Even Spider-man needs some peace and— 

“Babe—” 

“Why are you following me?”

Peter winces as the door slams open, an argument following close after as a girl storms out onto the roof followed by a guy speeding to keep up with her. His first instinct is to swing away as soon as possible, but for some reason, he stays. 

“Because I want to talk!”

“God, do you even hear yourself?” 

“You keep talking over me, so I really—” 

“You don’t get to babe me right now!” 

As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, now he’s accidentally made himself privy to some couple’s dispute. He’s about to web himself out of this third wheeling nightmare when the girl turns around with a groan, revealing her face, and Peter realizes who it is. 

It’s you.

This is your apartment complex. Peter came here without even realizing it, but can he really be surprised? Your name is synonymous with peace in his brain. Comes with the territory of being friends for so long—it still calms him, even when you’re being the opposite of peaceful. 

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this!” the guy exclaims, frustration clear in his voice. 

Of course. Why wouldn’t your shitty boyfriend be here too? The only reason you live here is because you scored this place together; said he didn’t want you living on campus anymore. Ethan Frey might be the bane of Peter’s existence after two and a half years of him being your boyfriend. 

“Because you and your posse are acting like complete jags in front of all my friends!” you shout back. 

He laughs in disbelief. “I’m just being myself, babe. Besides, you’re the one who said I could invite them!” 

“Because you complained about it just being my friends,” you grind out. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, Ethan! You just can’t handle the thought of me being around guys that aren’t you!” 

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to think, huh?” He gestures wildly. “You spend every second with that geek and I’m supposed to believe you’re not into him?” 

And now he’s eavesdropping on a conversation between you and your boyfriend about him. How could this get worse? 

“God, it isn’t like that at all!” you exclaim with a mirthless laugh. “Peter is my friend— my best friend since elementary school. You knew when we got together that wasn’t going to change.” 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding lazily, “but that was before I knew how obvious his hard-on for you was.” 

Peter feels his face heat beneath the mask, wants to wipe the sweat off his palms. That’s how it could get worse. 

Your nostrils flare as you turn away, your hands flexing while you shake your head. “Get out of here, Ethan.” 

“Oh, of course that’s where you draw the line,” Ethan mocks. “When I bring up fuckin’ Peter Parker.” He pauses then chuckles. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

Peter nearly intervenes right then and there, wanting to stop this mess before Ethan does anything to hurt you. But revealing himself sounds like the worst possible thing to do, so for once he listens to the rational part of his brain over the emotional. 

“He’s not even here!” you retort. “I live with you, not him. I’m dating you, not him. Why are you bringing him up?” 

“Because I’m not blind.” Ethan crosses his arms. “Y’know, I thought you’d get over this little thing after you let me take you out, but for some reason, it’s exactly the same. I swear you spend more time with him than me.”

Your hands clench into fists. “Get out of here.” 

He scoffs. “You want me to leave you up here?” 

“Yes,” you nod. 

“God, you’ve been acting crazy this whole night!” he complains. “You’ll freeze up here. Just get over it—we’ll go back down, I’ll get you a beer—” 

“I hate beer.” 

“Then I’ll get you a fucking apple juice,” he spits. “Just stop being so dramatic.” 

“You’re not listening to me!” you shout. “I want you to leave me alone!” 

This time he says your name, and you shake your head. 

“Go back to the apartment,” you interrupt. “Because if I have to spend another second with you, our relationship might not make it through the night.”

For once, Ethan is silent as he stares at you. You stare back with no sign of giving up. Eventually, he just huffs and shakes his head. 

“Whatever.” He starts walking towards the door. “You better cool off up here, because I’m not dealing with this shit when you come back down.” 

You stare at the door for a good twenty seconds once he closes the door—slams it, rather—before you angrily kick a stray soda can. Your childhood days of rec soccer must still be in you, because you get an arc on it. Just before it can go over the side of the building, Peter shoots a web to catch it wholly on instinct. 

Your eyes widen as you dart around, and Peter is finally spotted from his place on top of the roof door building thing. What is that even called? He doesn’t really have time to think about it. The aluminum can crunches as it flies into his hand, and you stare at him in complete shock. 

“Uh,” his mouth suddenly feels very dry, but he has to make some excuse for why he’s up here, “littering is bad.” 

Good one, Parker. 

“You’re Spider-man,” you say, eyes still wide. 

“The one and only,” he nods. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble, finally seeming to break out of your shock as you cover your mouth and turn away. “Oh my god, Spider-man just heard my relationship falling apart.” 

“I didn’t hear anything!” Peter exclaims. “I—”

You shoot him the withering look he loves so much, that was able to get his bullies to shrink on the spot in high school—it feels weird being on the receiving end of it. 

“I’m not stupid,” you say. 

“I kn—” He has to stop himself from saying I know, because realistically Spider-man has no idea who you are. “I’m sorry.” 

You huff and cross your arms. “Do your superhero duties include eavesdropping on failing couples?” 

“It was an accident,” Peter says. “I was up here before you were. So technically, you were eavesdropping on my actual superhero duties.” 

You laugh, and he smiles just at the sound of it. One benefit to wearing the mask, because it would expose him right on the spot. “Oh yeah? And what are those?” 

“Patrolling the streets,” he says. “I’ve got a very good vantage point from up here.” 

You hum, your mood turning a bit more morose as you glance away. “Well, I’m sorry you had to hear all that during your patrol.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through it,” he says. “Your boyfriend sounds like an asshole.” 

You roll your eyes. “He’s fine, most of the time. Just had a little bit too much to drink.” 

Peter will never understand why you defend Ethan so much. You’ve been together since freshman year and he’s only gotten worse since then—maybe he hides how he is around you, because he hasn’t really shied away from showing Peter how much he hates him this past year.

“He looked pretty sober to me,” Peter says. “And trust me, I have plenty of experience fighting guys that have had too much to drink.” 

You huff. “What are you, a spider-therapist?” 

“I’m good at a lot of things,” he says. “And I’m always good for bending an ear.”

“Surely you have better things to do than listen to me complain.” 

Peter shakes his head. “My schedule’s pretty clear right now, actually.”

“Really?” you marvel. “There’s no crime in New York City at,” you check your watch, “11:37 pm?”

“Absolutely none,” he says. “I solved it all. At least for now.”

You laugh again at that and gesture with your head as you walk over to the edge of the roof. “Then I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Peter jumps down and follows you over. You hoist yourself on top of the wall, legs dangling over the edge, and he feels himself frown as he leans his back against the wall and looks up at you. 

“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” 

“You’ll catch me if I fall,” you say. 

“Obviously,” Peter says. “I’m supposed to encourage safe behavior in New Yorkers, though.” 

You laugh and tilt your head up towards the night sky. The moonlight reflects in your eyes and Peter knows he could get lost in them forever. “Just this once, then.” 

“I think I can let it slide.” 

“Good.” 

A comfortable beat of silence passes between the two of you, and Peter finds himself smiling. No wonder he ended up at your place out of instinct. There’s nothing else like your company. 

“I always think it’ll be different,” you murmur. Peter glances up at you, your expression shifted to something more melancholic. “We’ll have a good day, which’ll turn into a good week and a good month, but he always does something to mess it up. It’s like it’s in his DNA.” 

He stays silent as you think. Most of the time when you rant to Peter, you just want to be heard, not given advice. At this point, he’s an expert at listening to you. It’s not like he minds. 

“I want things to work out. I— I still love him. I mean, I think I do. But everything is a fucking struggle with him. If I don’t do things the exact way he wants, if I try to do something for me instead of him, if I can’t read his fucking mind, then he loses it and we argue. And I’m so fucking tired of arguing!” 

Your voice has risen by now, and you bite down hard on your cheek. Peter doesn’t realize he’s started reaching towards you to comfort you until you look back down at him, and he runs his hand over his head in an effort to cover it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I promise, I’m a much nicer person than this. You just caught me at the worst time.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I know.”

Your brows rise. “Spider-man knows I’m a nice person?”

“I can just tell,” he rushes, trying to save himself. He’s doing a real good job at not revealing his identity. “I’m good at reading people.”

You chuckle and shake your head, then adjust your position so your back is towards the open air. It makes Peter nervous, he can’t lie, but it’s not like he’s not a superhero. 

“So, spider-therapist,” you say. “Any advice?” 

So this is one of the rare times you do want answers. Peter wonders if you’ll leave your boyfriend if Spider-man tells you to. 

“He doesn’t sound great,” Peter says, inclining his head. “How many times have you argued this week?” 

“Four,” you say. “Five, if you include tonight.” 

He whistles. “And it’s only Wednesday.”

You tip your shoulder. “We’re efficient.” 

“And unhappy, it sounds like.” 

“We’re not unhappy,” you defend. “We’re just…” 

“You’re up here talking to me instead of down there with him,” Peter says wryly. “That doesn’t exactly scream ‘happy couple’.” 

You shake your head with another sigh. “It’s because he can’t get over Peter.” 

He tries to act as nonchalant as possible when you bring him up. Is this an invasion of privacy? Letting you talk to him about all this when you have no idea who Spider-man actually is? 

Instead of floundering over moral qualms, he just clears his throat. “And who’s he?” 

“My best friend,” you say. “The one person who’s been by my side since the second I moved to New York. He means everything to me.”

Peter feels his heart skip a beat. “Yeah?” 

“He’s like— like the opposite of Ethan, and it’s wonderful. I guess that’s why Pete irks him so much. Y’know,” you pull out your phone and start typing in your password, “maybe I should call him. He always knows what to say.” 

“No!” Peter exclaims with a bit too much force, causing you to give him a look. “No— I mean, it’s late. He’s probably asleep. And— and it’s a school night?” 

You tilt your head, and Peter exhales when it seems to work. “True. He’s probably studying for that biochem test.” You grimace. “I should be doing that too.” 

He watches you type out a few texts and send them, and Peter’s never been more thankful to have his phone on silent. What a way that would be to blow his cover. 

You shove your phone back in your pocket with another sigh. “I just hate that my boyfriend and my best friend don’t get along. I love them both—why can’t they like each other?” 

“I mean…” Peter trails off when you look at him, and he gestures with his head. “It seems pretty obvious why they don’t get along.” 

“Yeah,” you say dryly. “Because Ethan thinks Peter likes me, and he probably thinks I have some secret crush on him too. I swear, he’s always looking for a reason to fight.” 

God, could the universe be calling him out any more? It’s honestly ridiculous how this is going. 

“Do you?” Peter asks, because he can’t help himself. “Like him, I mean.” 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “I love Pete, I do. It’s always been the two of us no matter what. But I…”

He holds his breath as he tries not to look at you, tries not to make it too obvious that he might have stumbled his way into his simultaneous dream and nightmare scenario. 

He’s had a crush on you for what feels like forever. Since you stood up for him against his bullies in elementary school, honestly, and it’s only grown over the years as the two of you have grown. From recesses spent together and bike rides through the city; spending the night in Peter’s apartment because it was easier for your sister to let it happen than try and drag you back home; endless nights with heads bent over textbooks trying to study for tests, over college applications trying to get into the same place, and now studying and researching near every damn weekend together because you’re both unfortunate enough to try for ESU STEM degrees. 

You were there when Ben died. He’s there on every anniversary of your parents’ accident. Without knowing it, you were there when he got bit and his whole life turned upside down. 

You and Peter have been there every step of the way for each other, and it’s why he’s content with just friendship—Peter wants you in his life no matter what. But he can’t lie and say he doesn’t hope. 

No, actually. He yearns. He’s doomed to be a yearner for the rest of his life because he’ll never stop loving you. How could he? 

“I’m not sure,” you finally say with a sigh. “All I know is that I’d rather be with Pete tonight than Ethan.”

Peter wonders if your chest compressions are still as good as they were in high school, because he feels like he’s about to have a heart attack. 

You’d rather be spending tonight with him than your boyfriend of two years and seven months, and Peter isn’t even supposed to know. 

You mistake his silent freakout for nonchalance, and you clear your throat as you jump back onto solid ground. 

“Well, I’ve spilled my soul to you,” you say wryly, crossing your arms. “Anything a superhero can spill in return?”

Peter thinks for a good, long second. His hands itch to take off his mask, to do what he’s wanted to do since he got bitten by that stupid spider and show you who he really is. 

How many times has he been a total asshole, canceling plans on you because he had to go stop some supervillain from wreaking havoc in Times Square? How many times has he been late to something important to you because he was caught up stopping dime a dozen muggings? He still remembers the look on your face when he showed up just in time to miss the entirety of Les Mis’s opening night with your first lead role. 

You were a better best friend to Peter than he was to you because of this stupid mask. If he took it off, it wouldn’t make every mistake fade away, but it would sure help explain some of it. 

But Peter has been doing this since high school, and he has seen far too many times what happens to the loved ones of heroes. They’re used as leverage, used for ransom, sometimes just straight up killed.

You’ve been friends with Peter since you and your sister moved into the apartment next to May’s thirteen years ago. It doesn’t matter if you never share Peter’s feelings. You’re one of the only constants in his life, and he’s not going to lose you because he’s too selfish to keep a secret. 

Losing you would be the last straw. He couldn’t take it. 

So Peter pushes all thoughts of secret identities revealed out of his mind and tries to chuckle convincingly. 

“I’m allergic to peppermint, believe it or not.” 

You stare at him, deadpan. “That’s nowhere close to all the shit I just gave you.” 

“It’s true!” he exclaims, holding up his hands. “Happened after I got bit by the spider. They’re repelled by peppermint oil, and I guess I am too.” 

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Spider-man is a coward.” 

“A superhero’s gotta have some secrets,” he says, and he taps the side of his head. “Otherwise this thing doesn’t do much good.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “Whatever.” 

A chill suddenly goes up Peter’s spine and he whips around—he can hear a distant scream followed by a distant gunshot, and he mentally curses. 

“Duty calls?” you ask, drawing his attention back to you. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m sorry—” 

“Don’t be.” You smile, and it’s genuine. A nice change from the state Ethan effortlessly puts you in. “You went out of your way to cheer me up. Pretty super of you.” 

“I hope it makes up for the eavesdropping,” he says. 

“More than,” you nod. “Now get out of here. Your city needs you.” 

Peter nods too, and he backflips onto his original spot. “Have a good night. You’re real special to somebody.” 

He’s gone before you can say anything else, already zipping across the rooftops to get to the scene of the crime. Peter can only think of your face as he swings through the air—all the things he’s too scared to say to you. 

The crime, which turns out to be yet another petty theft, is resolved easily enough with some punches, kicks, and a snappy one-liner. Once he’s retrieved the woman’s purse and alerted the police, he’s back in the sky. 

Peter only stops once he’s swung a couple miles away, perching on the edge of some rooftop for some actual peace and quiet. He checks around once or twice to make sure he’s not somehow back at your place, and when he’s sure it’s all clear, he pulls his phone out. He swipes past all the notifications he’s racked up until he finds the one he’s looking for: the texts from you. 

hey pete, I know you’re prob asleep rn but you were right. I really need to study for that test lol

wanna meet me at the library tomorrow after QM? I’ll buy the coffee this time i promise <3 

as long as you use your roomie’s dining dollars to get me a croissant lol 

Peter can’t help but smile, larger than anything tonight. This is why he’s okay with being nothing but your friend for the rest of his life. 

Deal. Anything to get you an A 

lol

asshole 

Never 

Try to get some sleep. No good studying on a tired brain 

Three dots appear for a good long second, enough to constitute a decent paragraph—then they disappear. In its place: 

I’ll try just for you 

night boy genius

(How could he not love you?) 

Night, girl wonder

[kenyummy]

✰ 04. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 04. fantastic four.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: had to wrack my brain to remember what math i was learning in seventh grade LMAO . sometimes i forget damian is just a little guy in like seventh to eighth grade. crazy. and please let me know if there's any mistakes with pronouns/gender!!! i want to keep this open to everybody so im always trying my best ❤️

also ive realised how chopped harry is in the comics after taking my rose coloured lenses off. basically he and mj have their look in the ultimate spiderman TV show (in my eyes anyway, i kind of just described their appearance based off tgat lmaooo)

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School has never felt so bland for you. Sure, it was never your favourite thing in the world—except for maybe biology—but you'd think that discovering a whole new world in your last year would make it a little more interesting.

It didn't.

It's been three weeks since you crash landed here in Gotham. The most you'd gotten from your family was an awkward "how are you" occasionally, and a lot of staring.

You'd only shown yourself as Spidey a few times to the public, but never stayed for those pesky news reporters shoving their microphones into your face. You'd never liked interviews, anyway.

The only highlight of your long days were MJ and Harry. You'd gotten over the initial shock of Harry being in love with you—convincing yourself that it really wasn't you he liked; it was this world's original you. (Though—that fact still lingers in the back of your mind whenever you talk).

Apart from that, school truly was uneventful. Your kooky art teacher was the only one of whom you actually liked, and it seemed the education here was rather lax. Uncaring. Not good for your future, surely—but you wouldn't have a future here, and you're sure this [name] Wayne will be just fine.

Speaking of schooling—the people here really seemed to hate the Gotham Prep kids. More than what a petty rivalry should be—it was pure malice.

Harry was especially adamant about this.

"They're all dumb, entitled rich kids who use daddy's money to get whatever they want, you know." He stabs his fork into a dry cut of chicken violently. Then points, accusatory, at MJ—who already presents a sneer to him. "And don't you start lumping me in with them—you know I'm not like that."

Her face twists, but soon she grins cheekily. "Okay, fine. Yeah, you're totally not, otherwise nobody here would like you one bit. And who doesn't love Harry, huh?"

"Oh, be quiet," But still, he smiles—damn his head is big. He glances over at you. You're picking around at your soggy broccoli with a frown. "Hey, [name]. Don't two of your brothers go to Gotham Prep?"

You look up at your ginger friend, head tilted to the side before it clicked. Oh, right. Tim and that young boy—Damian, if you remember correctly. Tim barely ever went to school if your diary was still accurate, and Damian had little choice but to.

(Doesn't seem like he'd be the social butterfly type, though.)

"Yeah, they do." You nod, still fiddling around with that vegetable.

"Not that I'm not glad that you're here—but why don't you go to school with them?" MJ leans forward in her seat. "I mean, isn't it easier for siblings to go to the same school?"

Your eyes widen for a second.

There's a few ways you can go about this.

One—you tell them everything you know about your other self. About how you never felt included enough to ask. How you never spent time with them. How it always felt like everything and everyone else was more important than you. How you suffered silently—begging for their attention for years like a house pet becoming a stray.

Two—you could tell them you have absolutely no idea because you have none of your memories of anything from the past years of this life—how you don't even remember all your siblings names half the time.

Or three, and your personal favourite—you can just lie.

It doesn't take a serial genius to figure out which one you chose.

"I guess I just didn't like the rich private school vibe they had going on." A smile falls over your lips. "Plus—you guys were coming here, so it gave me even more of a reason to attend, you know?"

You're not entirely sure that's true. But—if these two were anything like the Harry and MJ you know—then this would probably be right.

Judging from their smiles, your detective skills haven't failed you yet.

"Man!" MJ lolls her head back, groaning. "Can't believe I'm friends with two rich kids who get to choose which school they want—the beat down public or sleek rich private."

"Don't go dissing this school just because you're jealous of their uniforms," Harry snickers, pressing his index finger into MJ's cheek. She huffs and slaps him away.

"Silence, nepo baby. Your dad is basically Lex Luthor if he wasn't bald."

Harry looks more confused than offended at her comment, "Okay, but my dad isn't an evil mastermind plotting against a red and blue suited superhero."

You press your lips together thinly and look to the side, eyes focused on anything but him. Oh, Harry—if only you knew.

Damian Wayne had never truly seen the point of highschool.

Raised by assassains all his life—he had little room, time, and desire to learn about all this nonsense. While he enjoyed arts and fine literature—he couldn't find it within himself to care about the American Revolution, or whatever other ridiculous thing happened in history.

His maths teacher was absolutely, indubitably pathetic. Always on his phone as he assigns mountains of homework (because he never bothers to explain the complex materials they're given) on the latest subject—whether it be those blasted simultaneous equations, or to factorise useless monic trinomials. Even calculating tax and interest on the stupidest of cases.

Damian found himself sitting in the corner of his class in silence, staring down, bored, at the book in front of him. He truly hated math. There's so much real work to be done—crime to fight, plotting organisations to take down.

But his father, as always, is unmoving in his conviction that school is important. For Damian especially, anyway; Drake can skip as often as he likes because he's a senior already. Truly, ridiculous.

For Damian, and—oh.

You.

Bruce always seemed especially insistent on you two going to school. Even when everyone but him knew you skipped every few days and simply come home to wait.

Wait for what? For them?

His brows furrow. Suddenly, the black and white equations on the sheet blur and he zones out. Thinking.

You always did. From the day he'd walked into the manor, you were always there. Unconsciously, he'd notice it. A trait of a good assassin is that they can spot everyone in the room.

A trait of a great assassin is that they can spot everyone inside and watching.

Always, you were watching. Those pitiful stares. Desperate like a unloved pet. If he cared a little more (if any at all), he would've felt sorrow for your state.

Always wanting, but never asking. Never taking. Simply waiting for it all to come to you. He would never understand it. He would never understand you.

He would never understand how somebody could allow themselves to be so weak.

Like everybody else—when he first entered the manor, he proposed to fight you. Assuming—being the child of his father, like he was—you were worthy. That you were strong.

He doesn't know how he could've been so wrong. You immediantly reacted, gasping and clutching your face. He'd nicked it with the edge of his blade after he unsheathed it. You looked at the blood dotting your fingertips, then back at him, eyes wide.

Immediantly, Bruce rushed to his side and pushed him behind his larger, imposing figure—telling you to not interact with him because he's different to regular people. Different to you.

He watched you storm off from behind his father's legs; anger practically blaring off your figure.

Later—he happened to overhear you and Grayson talking quietly. Telling you to not be too hard on Damian, because he's troubled. That he's had a difficult life. At first—he was a tad offended—but that offence could not compare to the absolute fury burning in your eyes.

Though, it all melted away when Grayson's hand ruffled your hair. Like a little kid, you stared up at him, soft and starry-eyed as you unconsciously murmured you'd forgive your new little brother.

Damian dry-heaved. You were so goddamn weak.

So weak, and so normal. Everything you did was completely regular. You were on the same wavelength as the civilians he saved from burning rubble. The same as people who walked down the street, talking about their favourite Justice League member. Who cowered in fear in front of villains—to be saved by those heroes. By him.

You were nothing, and yet everything he could never have been.

(What child does not long for normalcy?)

Damian always thought you were rather helpless, regardless of how regular you were—and seeing you with that bullet lodged in your shoulder—he was right. Not being able to dodge something like a bullet—there was no wonder you never become a vigilante. There was no wonder you needed to be protected.

... Though—he began to think back.

Who did? Protect you; that is.

Whoever it was, they did a pretty awful job at it.

Damian strums his fingers against the hardwood table rhythmically. Face blank but mind running rapidly.

It couldn't have been Todd. No—he seemed to be in a frazzled state of mania when carrying your bleeding body in your arms. Perhaps he too, believed you were safe with the rest of his family.

(Oh how wrong Todd was—he looked livid.)

... Grayson?

No. When he's not in Blüdhaven, he is almost always with the other vigilantes within the family. Not here nor there, and certainly not close enough to protect you.

Not Drake. He never cared enough, despite everything. Not Cain, either. Though the silent protector type—she had too much on her plate to worry about you as well.

Gordon and Brown had their own families to worry about.

And his—your father? The Batman? There was no time for a regular child like you in the Batman's life of vigilantism. Whom he sworn to protect in his crusade now lay bleeding out in his great failure's arms.

...

Did you truly have nobody?

...

Damian couldn't really imagine it. He'd always assumed you had many friends to fill the void that yoir family left with their civilian clothes. ... Perhaps you did. He wouldn't know.

You are his only half sibling. In this world, only he is truly your brother, and you are his only older sibling. Does that not give him the slightest of responsibility?

He'd always been taught to keep everybody at arms length—even his own family. The whole world is out to get the Demon's grandson, then he must fight it. But his father taught him differently.

To protect those who cannot protect themselves—to keep those he cares about safe at any cost.

What of you? He does not care for you in the way an ordinary sibling should. Seeing you so weak, defenceless against him—must mean you trust him in some way.

(It's hard for him to fathom being able to feel so unprotected in a world he was taught was trying to extinguish him at every turn).

Regardless of how you don't belong—or how frosty you act toward your youngest brother—he has a duty.

No matter how hard you try—you can never sever the blood you two share. The others do not have this duty—but he does, because in the end, you are his. None of the others bothered, so Damian must.

You are everything he could never be, he has realised. But in the end, you are blood. It runs thicker in the veins than any water, and that is one of the most important things to Damian.

Seeing that same blood—his blood—spill out of you carelessly—that is a sight he will never bear witness to again.

Damian was the first one out the door as soon as the bell chimed in his ear. His bag slung tightly around his shoulders and textbook under his arm; he rushed into the familiar sight of a sleek, large car.

He shuts the door as he climbs into the backseat (Bruce said he was still too short to sit in the front, much to his son's displeasure). "Hello, Pennyworth."

Alfred glances back at him through the rear view mirror. "Good afternoon, Master Damian. How was school?"

"Same as usual. A waste of time." He clicks his seatbelt shut as the car begins to move. Alfred only hums, keeping his eyes trained on the road.

"I'm unsurprised to hear you say so. I do hope you understand why exactly, you are enrolled in school, however. And why Master Bruce is so adamant about your attendance."

Damian knows. He's always known, because it has been drilled into his head like a mantra. Talia and Ra's Al Ghul weren't math teachers—and most of his time really was spent training and sparring to be the best he could be.

He was not illiterate, nor stupid. Rather smart, actually. However, he didn't exactly learn algebra and chemistry with the League of Assassins.

He grumbles. "I know, Pennyworth. Father cannot seem to stop reminding me that all these things are far more important than stopping the endless wave of crime in Gotham."

If he weren't on the road—Alfred surely would've given him a nasty look. "Master Damian, please—your sincerity is positively slaughtering me."

Damian rolls his eyes, opting to stop this fruitless conversation and look outside the windows instead. At the outside world—the sky already paling to deep auburn shades as they drive through the endless roads.

He watched all the cars moving past; hurrying to get to their destination. Each with their own story and reason for being there. Every single one with their own thoughts and worries. Some with children, others with pets, and some with piles of groceries.

All with their own, individual lives. Including him.

A bus, too. It stops for a moment at a sheltered space, then drives away, leaving a few people standing under the shade.

An elderly lady with a man, presumably her son, walking away with her. A woman with frizzy red hair and freckles dotted over her nose. A few schoolkids—some his age, some older. Clearly from the public school on the other side of Gotham, if only to judge from the scantily clad clothes some of the older students wore—

Wait, is that you?

He sits up—the car slowly coming to a stop at a red light. His eyes don't leave your figure as he presses his nose against the window; observing.

You look around at the people that pass by you—gripping your bag close to your side and rushing into the nearest alleyway.

He waits for a few moments. This red light feels rather long—but what feels longer is watching and waiting for you to come out of that alleyway.

You never do.

Even as the car begins to move once more, driving past the intersection, he crawls as far back as possible to even get a glimpse—but you never show.

Just today, he had decided to be the one to take up the mantle and protect you. Just today, during a boring math class, he has decided that since you are his blood, he must keep a helpless civilian like you safe.

And now you're gone. Are you dead, or something?

(Deep down, his stomach twists at the thought.)

"Pennyworth, pull over." Hid voice is more taut than he had imagined. "Now."

Alfred looks back, glancing at the streets around. He doesn't question the young boy, simply doing as he is asked and pulling over to a deserted parking area.

When he has parked the car, he turns around and sees Damian slipping his Robin mask on—somehow already fully suited up.

His eyes widen, "Master Damian, what—"

"I have something to do. Let Father know I will be back home late."

Opening the door, Damian rushes out and pulls out his grappling hook, swinging onto the nearest building's roof and looking around.

He spots the alleyway you'd run into. It is still. Absolutely no movement nor any looks from passer-bys. He rushes across the roves towards where the dark side seeped into the crack of the buildings.

Maybe you'd taken another way out?

But looking at the alleyway now, it's more like a dip between the buildings to stand in more than anything. It was blocked off on the other side.

So where...???

He drops down, landing on his soles and squinting as he stares around into the dark. There's nothing.

No people, nor bodies, and certainly not anything to indicate anybody was ever here.

Except...

He glances at the wall. Theres a white cocoon-esque oval webbed to the wall. Those same webs he'd seen all that time ago—from that spider. That would show up then leave immediantly. Never staying for longer than they had to.

Dodging all of his and Batman's attempts at asking who you were, and what you were doing in Gotham. Always swinging away into the distance before they could be subdued.

Now, he stares at their ball of webbing and wonders if it truly is an arachnid he's dealing with.

He pokes it, looking it up and down. Then, he sees it. Through the small holes in the webs and the translucent, silk-like material—he finally sees it.

Your bag.

He tears off the webbing faster than he can think, getting the sticky substance stuck to his gloves and clothes; he barely even notices it. He grabs your bag and stares it, swallowing hard.

His mind buzzes with an unfamiliar staticky feeling and he suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Despite all the noise in his ear—his brain is able to comprehend one singular question.

... What did that arachnid do to you?

Clothed fingers digging deep into the leather fabric of the bag—clearly worn down and fading. Old. He would get Father to purchase you another. ... When he sees you next. Because he will.

His jaw clenches hard.

Damian throws the bag over his shoulder and grapples up—swinging onto a building roof and running across.

Running for what, he isn't sure. But what he is sure of, is that once he gets his hands on that arachnid, it will not be kind.

To find out what happened to you—that is his duty as your blood sibling.

He decides that in this life, he will be your protector. In the next, if he is ever given a chance to be normal like you—he will become a doctor. Or perhaps a painter. Or a poet. Maybe he will ask you to help him decide when he finds you and that arachnid.

... Yes, that sounds good.

You cut through the cool wind as you swing through the city. Grinning widely underneath your mask—you don't think you've ever been so happy since you landed here.

You're sure nobody will take your stuff. Even if they do, you could always just get whatever else you needed again. You were far too excited to dwell on the small stuff right about now.

Landing on a rooftop, crouched—you walk down the wall of the apartment complex, and look around for civilians. As he told you—the streets around the back of the building were practically deserted.

You count the amount of rooms from the side, up and down.

"Row 5, Apartment block... 2..." You hum, and nod to yourself.

You tap your necklace and the nanobots all crawl off your body, leaving you in your regular clothes. You land safely on the balcony of the room you were given.

You smooth out your flared jeans and take in a deep breath. Then, you bring up your knuckles, and knock.

The glass screen door opens before you can say fantastic.

A small pair of arms wrap around your torso and knock you backwards—you fall on your ass and let out a loud laugh.

"Spidey!!! [name]!!!"

"Is that who I think it is?!" You tease, eyes squinted upwards and the young kid buries into your stomach. His giggles are muffled by the fabric and he squeezes you so tight you'd be inclined to choke—if it wasn't you. "Frankie!! How's my favourite Richard?"

"I can't believe you'd say that, [name]. That hurts." A familiarly sweet voice speaks.

"Sue!" You grin, taking in the sight of the blonde and her husband by her side. You get up—Franklin stumbles behind you—and crash into her arms.

She chuckles, patting your back and smiling down at you, "I missed you too, [name]. You always manage to find yourself in the strangest situations, don't you?"

Reed cradles his chin, "Well, we were technically the cause of this distortion in reality, Susan—"

But seeing the expression on both your and his wife's face; he stops himself. Only smiling sheepishly. "My apologies. It's great to see you again, [name]. I didn't think we'd find another familiar face in a different universe."

"You're getting better at this, Reed." You lift yourself from Sue's comforting cradle and grin brightly up at him. "I didn't think I'd see all of you guys again, either. When you all disappeared for so long—I was wondering if something bad happened."

"Hah! Ta us? You kiddin'? Ya more bug-brained 'den that spider that bit ya!"

"Ben!!!" You go flying toward the rock-encased man and wrap your arms around his comfortingly tough neck. He spins you around and lets you down with a loud laugh.

"'Ey kid, how're ya? Heard ya tackled ol' matchstick 'ere outta the sky!" He slaps his rocky chest laughing—in the corner of your eye, Johnny stands behind him, unimpressed.

He walks up beside you, swinging an arm around your neck and snarks, "Yeah—well, Spidey's always been known for catching people off guard, huh? Creepin' up when you least expect it."

"You're making [name] sound like a villain, Unc!" Frankin, who had found himself attached to the side of your shirt, sticks out his tongue.

Johnny recoils, face falling in pure horror as he dramatically points at the young boy, "UNC??!! I... I'm an Unc now...??? I'm not even 19! I can't be an Unc!!!"

You burst out into laughter at the genuineness of Johnny's expression, watching as he freaks out about being "old". Sue and Reed roll their eyes—while Ben is there with you, laughing his ass off like he'd just gotten a home run on Yancy Street.

Franklin looks at your laughing expression and starts giggling along—jumping up and down beside you with sparkling eyes.

"Stop laughing, [name]! We're the same age!" Johnny points, accusatory. "If I'm an Unc, you're a...!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm cooler than Uncle Johnny anyways, right Frankie?" You grin, picking up Franklin as he cuddles into your neck.

"Mhm!" He nods eagerly.

Johnny sends you a blazing glare, lips pouted out. "You and me. We're—" He gestures to the two of you. "—gonna have some issues, here. Okay. Everyone knows I'm the cool Uncle."

"No, that's Benny!" Franklin points to Ben.

The look on Johnny's face shifts into utter disbelief—Ben falls out of his chair laughing wildly.

"Gosh, I missed you so much, kid." You pull at one of Franklin's cheeks and chuckle. He stares at you in awe for a few seconds, before hugging the side of your head and giggling.

"I missed you too!"

That same warmth fills each crevice and pore of your body, as you huddle close to your dear friends and let yourself feel at home for this small moment.

Meanwhile, in the dark of night, a pair of azure eyes watches, sharp and unnerving in the back of your skull.

You notice it. Of course you do. Your mind is tingling with that buzz—but you want to enjoy this night of nothing but home, even if only once.

taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi @bunniotomia @lostsomewhereinthegarden @bat1212 @gaychaosgremlin @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @randomlyappearingartist @cxcilla @spidermanluvr444 @cruzerforce4256 @mybones537 @xjesterxjacksx @nirvanaxx1942 @djpuppy-kittens @br33zy-blizzardz @moon0goddess @0sunnyside01 @mei-simp @redsakura101 @the-dumber-scaramouche @wizzerreblogs @lovemiss-vale @deathbynarcisstick @allycat4458 @wonmyheart @luckyangelballoon @one-piecelover @hartwyrm @horror-lover-69 @maria-trisha @4rachn3 @galaxypurplerose @duskeras @coffeeaddictxd @lithiumval @kaz-playz

tsglist is closed, sorry! but do try and keep up with updates thank you!!!

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug like angel

pt2

Girl Afraid

May 12, XXXX

4:45 AM

"Shit," you think to yourself as you realize you're going to be late for school

Yes, your school usually doesn't start till 7 AM, but you have a field trip today, and the bus leaves at 5:30 AM.

"Ms.Rose is gonna kill me if I'm late again! Where did I put my bag? Where are my earbuds?" you whisper to no one in particular

You had a million thoughts running in your head, but one thing was sure, you were so late.

You still had to grab your phone, eat breakfast, put on your clothes, do your hair and makeup on the bus, and run towards the bus and then maybe you can make it in time.

You rush downstairs to get breakfast and realize you don't have to be as quiet because it's empty in the kitchen.

You quickly eat breakfast and finish your morning routine before making it out the door.

It's 5:43 when you make it onto the bus, Ms. Rose was waiting on you and thankfully didn't you much of a hard time.

"Ms.y/n, please be more considerate of others time next time."You sat down next to your "friends"

You don't fully consider them your friends, they're too full of themselves and you all know none of you guys are friends, just close acquaintances.

After finishing the coffee you brought onto the bus ride, doing your hair and makeup, and taking a quick nap while listening to music, you finally made it.

Alchemax.

You were excited for the trip, even asking Dick, Jason, and Bruce if they wanted to tag along as chaperones.

They said no, which you both understood and were also sad about but, whatever, who cares? Anyways- you're at the coolest place!

It's perfect for someone who wants an internship that would look great on your resume.

Why do you want that resume? You don't know. Maybe it's so you can impress your family? You aren't fully sure.

Before you question yourself further, you get off the bus, along with your schoolmates.

You hear them all chatting about whatever, but it's clear to everyone that you are the most excited to go on this trip.

You, who wouldn't shut up about it despite everyone at school and home telling you to. You, who kept bouncing off walls while talking about it. You, who constantly wrote about it in journals.

Nothing could stop your excitement, and that was clear to others.

While you were there, you were practically the only one participating.

The only one wasnt scared to ask questions.

The one that would ask questions for others who wouldn't.

You were sure that this was the best trip of your life! You were so interested in everything!

It wasn't until later in the day after you got home at 7:56 that you saw everyone in the dining room sitting together eating, like usual, without you.

Every time you saw them together your heart broke a little more.

You tried to not make a scene and just walk away quietly, and it worked!

With everyone but Alfred.

"And where have you been, young miss?" He asked in an authoritary tone.

"I've been on a field trip in Alchemax! I just got back! It was soo fun, why?" you asked, knowing what he was going to ask.

"Wouldn't you like to have dinner with the others?" it's clear he just wanted the others to notice you, he knew you've tried so hard to be with them.

"it's alright, Alfred. I grabbed lunch with my friends earlier, I'm still full!" you said enthusiastically. It wasnt a lie, afterwards you all went to your favorite fast food place, batburger. You're sure theres no better fast food place than batburger.

"Oh, that's quite alright then." as soon as he said that you went upstairs to get unready and unpack for the day. you didnt notice Jasons slight dissapointment on his face when you refused and walked away.

It's good that it was a Friday, you could rest tomorrow.

You didn't notice how you accidentally took Project 111 with you. Mustve sneaken in your bag while you went to the bathroom while at Alchemax.

It took you a while to open your bag due to you getting ready for bed, and you screamed when you saw a spider in your bag and crawling onto your hand.

"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK STOP CRAWLING ON ME LEAVE ME ALONE WHERE DID YOU COME FROM GO AWAY!" the stupid spider kept crawling on you.

It's honestly suprising no one heard you scream. Either that or they didnt care.

You didnt know what to do. You hate spiders.

It took you minute or two of just flailing before actually doing something.

You tried to reach for your nearest hairbrush to hit the spider with, only to accidentally hit yourself anywhere but where the spider was. Thats gonna leave a mark.

The spider, project 111, ended up biting you on the wrist. You ended up killing it with your hairspray.

You started panicking on whether you would die or not, you may have cried a little before realizing you were being a tad bit dramatic.

You realized the spider didn't look like the venomous ones you researched online while trying to find common ground with Damian back when he was new

So you decide to keep this to yourself, a nice little secret.

3:37 AM

You woke up sweating, panicking, hot, cold, tired, wide awake, hungry, full, thirsty, not thirsty.

You didn't know what was happening.

You forced yourself to fall back asleep.

it's around 12 PM when you wake up again.

You hope it was just a weird nightmare.

You realize you woke up late to breakfast, which was usually at 9:30 for you, so on your desk was some cold breakfast Alfred left for you.

While eating it, you thought about what happened.

Was it a dream? Was it a sign? Were you high?

You start walking in circles trying to figure out what it could all mean...it took you a while to realize you were literally upside down on your ceiling.

Oops?

Before you processed it, you panicked.Why are you on the ceiling? Why were you walking on walls? How were you walking on walls?

So many questions. No one to answer them.

After a bit of panicking and running around making a mess, you realize you sort of have powers.

You could stick to walls, that was one.

You could make webs, thats two. You could be a hero, like the others!

At first, you find it so cool!

..then you realized your father doesn't want metas in Gotham...

You decide to keep this to yourself, for now at least.

oml this is so short oops guys i swear im. tryigg my hardest but also im kind of a bad writiter 🙏

anyways the next one of these i make is most likely gonna be emu reader cause shes so silly

anyways

[yawnzshit]

PRI'S FIC RECS : SUPERMAN EDITION.

[ ♡ ] : personal favourites.

🎙️ i will be adding more to this list as I read :) enjoy ! and extra shoutout to the authors who wrote these <3 love you guys!! also pls feel free to dm me with more recs! i will gladly add them here :)

extra p.s these are x reader fics...i don't mind ship fics but i don't read them so i can't rec those :")

My Hero by @jungkooklover777 [ 11k ]

synopsis : an office romance sounds good in theory but what happens when it goes according to theory?

notes : office!romance au ; me and slow burn go hand in hand.

unfold your love by @junleb [ 6.8k ]

synopsis : jimmy olsen and the mystery of two idiots who are definitely not in love

notes : coworkers!au ; cutesy, loved it!!!!

clark kent's love language by @ilyasorokinn [ 1.4k ] [ ♡ ]

synopsis : clark thinks his love language is to keep you safe. he likes to check in on you every once in a while during the day. one afternoon, his daily check-in's prove to be necessary.

notes : i loved this sm :( can i have a clark kent pls

a lesson in trust falling by @swordgrace [ 1.6k ]

synopsis : you’re not fond of flying — thankfully, your boyfriend is superman.

notes : established!relationship au ; GUYS PLS READ THIS NOW!! as someone with a bit of a fear of flying this is so perf <3

stop avoiding me by @killishin

coworkers!au ; superhero!reader

notes : VERY CUTESY!!!

take a deep breath and let the rest come easy by @indouloureux

synopsis : sometimes sunlight just isn't enough for superman to heal. so there's a reason why he comes home to you every night. 

notes : i love him ur honour.

clark kent bf texts by @writingmeraki

notes : everyone deserves a bf clark 🙏🙏🙏

LOVESICK by @hearts4hughes

notes : i love yearning. i love yearning. i love love.

spider...man? by @se7entyrell

synopsis : Your relationship with Clark told through your crippling fear of spiders, aka four times when Clark is the world's best spider-catcher.

notes : cute & sweet ☹️☹️☹️

clark kent and the lavender skirt by @luveline [4k]

synopsis : You like to rush things. Clark takes things slow until he can’t anymore. (Or, you attempt to seduce your coworker in a series of little skirts, and while Clark falls in love with all of you, the skirts don’t hurt.)

notes : YO THE BUILDUP IN THIS HAD ME KICKING GIGGLING SCREAMING.

! SMUT SECTION [ read the warnings ! ]

but he doesn't like me, does he? by @sillyswriting [ 12.7k] [ ♡ ]

synopsis : There was one thing you knew for sure, absolutely certain: Clark Kent didn’t like you. Not in an angry or rude way, he was still polite, still himself. But you could feel it. His body language and attitude gave everything away. Your coworkers kept insisting you were wrong, but then why did he keep avoiding you?

notes : coworkers!au ; LOVED LOVEDD THISSS YOUR HONOUR I WANT THIS PLEASE PLEASEEE

THE INTERVIEW NO ONE CAN EVER KNOW ABOUT by @louisaskywalkerani

synopsis : (yes, that one. the countertop one.)

notes : yeah. JUST YEAH. READ THIS.

untitled by @jordiemeow [ 1.9k]

synopsis : your boyfriend clark always seems to find the light in everything. but with several hard fights back to back ending in numerous civilian casualties to weigh him down, he just needs a gentle touch to soothe him and coax him back to his former brightness.

notes : cute adorable soft smut, my fave

untitled by @softvalentines

notes : yeah i get it, i soooo do. thank you for this 🙏🙏🙏🙏

clark kent masterlist by @diorchids

notes : thank you author for your service for the horny(me) bitches 🙏🙏🙏 linking your entire masterlist cause yes.

...more to come!

[gremlingottoosilly]

König who immediately sets his sights on his younger brother’s crush/girlfriend. He’s offering “advice” but really just wants to snatch you from right underneath his nose.

Honestly, it's on his dumb little brother. Only an idiot like him would think that asking Konig, the socially inept war criminal with a body count going in hundreds of dead people, would have good advice about relationships. His last girlfriend left the country, and probably the continent deleted all of her social media and decided to live among giant spiders. Konig didn't have a serious relationship in years, mostly just yearning for some social media models and pin-up girls. Then he sees his brother's cute little friend, and all hell breaks loose. The advice in terms of bringing the girl to their apartment - acting like she will be impressed with his brother's matress on the floor and action figure collection. Konig made sure to buy a bedframe a week earlier, as if it's not his gun collection littering the walls. Asks his bro to act like an alpha, like he is already sure the girl is in love with him and needs a big, strong guy to take care of her. You're disgusted, of course, and you sit on their grimy - Konig did clean up and even called a maid, but still - kitchen, drinking their tea while his brother was pouting in his room, not sure what he did wrong. You're timid, sheepish, quiet in front of him. Konig is too much of one man, and he puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. Patting your head and gently pressing his fingers on your exposed skin. You're so sad over your friend being a dick, you don't even mind his brother. Konig is...nice, in comparison. Kind of cool-looking, with all the scars and muscles. Doesn't flaunt his income, but asks if you want him to call an uber, and you see his fingers trailing over to Business class. He gives you a candy bar - your favorite, you notice - and asks if, maybe, you want him to drive you home instead of a taxi. Konig was never this smooth his entire life - and maybe you're just distressed enough to ignore his staring and a slight tremble in his fingers - god, how much he wants to squeeze you until you sing for him. Perhaps, you just want a good guy, a normal guy, to hug you and don't try to squeeze your ass in the process. Konig wouldn't promise not putting a hand on the low of your back when he walks you to your door, but he is just awkward enough to make him seem cute. Harmless. He asked if you wanted to come next time, just to see him. You say yes. Konig thinks it's time to shop for rings.

[bluesidez]

Can I request a Miguel O'Hara x Curvy reader where they both get intoxicated from sex pollen ??

[Sticky-Icky]

lab taster: @waterinthefire 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Curvy!Reader

summary: He's a lot less irritating when he puts his mouth to better use.

content warning: a PWP but you guys know me (there's a little plot), this is so 18+ that it's crazy so MDNI, sex pollen (or more like Miguel is playing around and doesn't know wtf he's doing), unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾) manhandling, temperature play if you squint, standing 69, facefucking, creampies, wrong use of webs, biting, breeding, spitting, squirting, cunnilingus, fellatio, fluff if you squint...I think that's it. my god.

word count: 4.3k, halfway proofread

a/n: Listening to Sticky by Ravyn Lenae inspired part of this. Also watching several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares, Hell’s Kitchen, and Law & Order: SVU in the bg kept me sane. And one more rewatch of ATSV.

My duty as a fanfic writer is fulfilled as I give you this mandatory trope. 🫡

When you first started working at Spider HQ, you were amazed by the fact that one man was able to create all of this.

It was astounding, beyond what the gray tones of Nueva York could ever present to you.

Now, you think back to your glittering eyes during the first year working here and laugh.

Working for Miguel O’Hara was like squeezing a watermelon through a straw. He was impossible.

Nothing you did was ever satisfactory for him. Something could always be fixed. Sometimes, you wonder why he still kept you employed here.

Currently, he was turning his nose up at a salve you were working on for spiders whose healing time wasn’t nearly as quick as others.

“Run a new test. This batch is no good.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The formula could be better, it’s too thick, and why does it smell like that?”

The scent was similar to one you wore often and a lot of the spider-people that swung by the pharmacy seemed to like it.

“Uh, jade tea.”

The pinch in Miguel’s eyebrows deepened as he sniffed the air.

“Switch it to something else.”

You huffed, already tired of this conversation, “Well, what smell do you suggest?”

“Anything but this.”

“How about lavender, then? Perhaps peppermint.”

“And now, you’re being childish,” Miguel put the tin down before placing his hands on his hips. “You know there’s spider-people who can’t smell too much of that.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

He plopped a giant file on your desk, “Deal with that later. I need you to work on something else. For some reason, villains across dimensions are obtaining access to a substance similar to rapture. Every time there’s a mission, the spider-person of that dimension has been left affected. I need something to subside the effects until we can get them back here.”

“Ok, well do you have the substance with you?”

“No. But I’ll get you something soon. For now, I have a year’s worth of research on rapture. It should be of some use.”

You took the rubber band off of the manilla folder, something so old school for this era of tech.

You saw a line of formulas that started to make your head spin.

“Are there a lot of people affected right now?”

“Only a few. They’ve used the leftover solution I made a long time ago. It’s only going to work for so long,”

“Good. I need to sleep on this.”

Miguel’s head knocked back an inch, “Are you refusing work? The state of the heroes of different universes relies on this research. It’s not some science project-“

“I understand completely, Miguel, but I’m off the clock.”

He stopped and checked his watch, the red six o’clock burning back on him.

“I only work the hours you pay me, Spidey,” you reach to pat his arm and regret it when his stern face doesn’t move.

“Not interested in paid overtime?”

You bit your cheek to stop the laugh from coming out.

“That’s nice and all, but I’ve got plans.”

“Like what?”

“Like resting, sleeping, not touching lab work with a you-sized pole. All of these are things you aren’t familiar with. Plus, I have a date.”

A pause went through the room as you started to gather your things.

“Since when do you date?”

You push your chair under your desk harder than you mean to, “Since when do you care?”

“I,” he follows to the elevator, “care about my employees.”

“Sure, Miguel.”

If it weren’t for your tired state, you would think he looks a little sad at your statement.

“See you tomorrow, then?”

The doors start to close as you nod your head, Miguel’s gaze stuck just above your head.

Weird. Just like his frequent stops to your lab.

The feeling doesn’t leave your gut even as you’re smiling in your date’s face.

One minute, you’re laughing at a story about some amateur skateboarders Downtown, and the next, an electric billboard is being covered in tiny nano-spiders across the street.

“So the guy just takes one step on the board and then he’s flying. A straight line across the park.”

“That’s,” the spiders start to crawl into different lines. Then a logo forms, displaying the spider on Miguel’s suit next to an exclamation point. “So hilarious.”

Your date chuckles then follows your gaze, the silence too long, “Is there something wrong?”

The nano-spiders flipped around, the regular billboard showing like normal. You squint.

“No, I thought I saw something. Must have been my imagination.”

“You did say you were a little tired from work. Should we raincheck? We can always catch a movie another time.”

You wanted to say no, you’d been looking forward to tonight.

The billboard flickered to a little picture of Lyla with “SOS” above her head.

“Yeah, I should probably get going. Sorry about this.”

The way he doesn’t sweat you practically ditching him makes your heart pang. You’re already dreading another night exhausted and alone. Your date seemed promising.

You wave at him from your taxi, the route leading back to Spider HQ feeling like torture. You unclasp your purse and check your gizmo.

40 missed messages.

It’s not until you’re walking into the regular lobby that you turn it on.

“What is so important that you waste Margo’s time to interrupt my time?”

Lyla pops in your peripheral, hands up and wary, “I’m only doing what boss asks! Don’t get mad at me.”

“Lyla, why am I back here right now?”

“Well, Miguel has gotten himself in some particular trouble.”

You punch the elevator button, “Get to the point, please.”

“He went into your lab to try and start the solution he talked about earlier. After his first accident, he’s never had any luck with lab work, so uh. He’s kind of made a mess.”

The elevator moves and you look at Lyla, “What kind of mess?”

The doors open and you can smell it before you see it.

It’s poignant, like perfume soaked roses and patchouli. The scent hits you hard enough to make you grip the metal opening as you come out.

“What exactly did he do?” you breathe out.

Your limbs start to shake, nerves drumming from the inside out. A weight feels like it landed on your core, your stomach twitching as you continued to take in whatever had transpired.

“Something about DNA splicing and plants. I can trace his movements back if you’d like, but I’m also currently trying to figure out how to reverse it.”

“Great.”

You swing open the door to a disheveled Miguel. He’s sweating profusely as he tries to clean up your lab desk.

Before you can even begin to yell he’s fussing, “Lyla, I told you not to call her!”

“But you obviously don’t know what you’re doing.”

He bites his lip as he tries not to look at you, fingers trembling as he starts to store materials back into their drawers.

“Thought you had a date.”

“And I thought I told you stay away from my station,” you feel like a baby deer walking over to him.

When you get closer he sucks in his breath like you cut him, stopping in his tracks.

“I don’t think you should be near me,” he grunts. His eyes are dark, lips swollen with the way he’s biting them.

“What are you talking about? I’m trying to help you.”

You round the corner of the desk, the image of you two almost comical. Miguel moves to the edge of the desk, chest moving faster, while you chase after him trying to get a hand on his forehead.

He felt extremely cold compared to the numbness of your palm, despite how flushed he looked. His eyes close as your hand slides from his head to his neck, muscles there tensing.

“Please. Don’t,” he whispers.

“Who else is coming here to save you?” you ask, frustrated. “What did you do anyway?”

He doesn’t answer as he peers at you. Your heart is beating faster and you can’t tell if it’s because of the air or because of the way he looks like he’s about to climb you.

Every move you made felt like sharp pricks in your skin, the tight material of your dress digging into your hips. It felt like the ends of burning flames and you wanted it off. Your breaths were picking up and you couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on other than Miguel being your cooling solution.

“Miguel,” you sounded like you ran a marathon when all you did was step into his space.

“It’s the shocking formula that I screwed up. That’s why everything feels-“

“Like I need you,” you interrupt. “Like I want you on top of me.”

The insides of your thighs were fighting against themselves to stay together, the urge to let your legs fall around him strong.

“That’s just the chemicals talking. W-we can get somewhere safe and separated.”

You grab the back of his neck and pull yourself even closer, his hands gripping the table like a lifeline as he groans.

“So you don’t want me?” you press against him, caging a knee around him right next to his hand. “You don’t think about me?”

You can almost feel his heartbeat matching yours as you pull yourself up.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t wonder how I feel when you come into my lab snooping around? How I feel when you come in here barking orders?”

Your face is in his neck and you feel yourself clench around nothing as you take a deep breath. He smells like coffee and fabric softener, but there’s an underlying wave of musk. Of something so unbelievably him and you want to keep that scent close forever.

“I imagine you’re annoyed. But a job is a job.”

“But you still come in here asking for things you know someone else can do,” your panties are soaked, and from the way his nose flares, you know he knows. “Why?”

His teeth grit as you start to grind on him, the feeling giving you an inch of relief that only makes you want more.

“I, I don’t- It’s because I,” the counter began to crack under his hands. His muscles were pulled taut. “Dios, ayúdame.”

Maybe you were wrong, and your hazy mind only brought thoughts from the subconscious one.

“Fine. I get that you don’t like me but could you at least give me some type of relief?” you were whining in his ears at this point, a complete 180 of how you left him earlier today. With every grind of your hips, you left noises in his skin, desperate.

The desk made a terrible sound as Miguel finally lets go and grabs around your waist. Your breath is slammed out of you as your back hits the wall, Miguel’s hand holding your head to stop it from crashing into the wall too.

Your throat makes a gargled sound as Miguel licks down your jaw, his talons ripping into your dress. His tongue swipes into your mouth, breaths rapid as he finally gets a taste.

“I do like you. More than I should,” his words were passed right into you. “You and your smart mouth.”

“Then stop talking and do something about it.”

A yank in your hair stops your complaints, Miguel kissing down your side. Every press of his lips left a chilly flutter. Your hips are moving frantically, patience wearing thin. Right as you’re about to say something again, he flips you, the layers of your dress falling as he rips into your panties.

The blood rushes to your head as he takes a bite into your thigh, sucking as your legs fall to his shoulders.

You moan his name, hands gripping at his thighs. His kisses led to your lips, swollen and dripping. From your clit to your entrance, he groaned as he covered you, drinking like you were water in the middle of the night.

You felt like you were going to slip, but Miguel’s arms were looped around your legs, not letting go. His suit was in your way, your mouth salivating as his crotch stared back at you. Your fingers could only dig as far as his suit allows and you have half a mind to call Lyla to disengage it.

“Please,” you sigh as you rub his bulge with your cheek. “I need it so bad.”

“Cállate,” he hums, face delving deeper into you. The sound of him licking up every drop echos off the cool walls and the light of his suit dims away letting you see what you’ve been waiting for.

His length hits your chin, precum spilling down and you’ve never been more excited for a man to go commando. You open your mouth and let your breath hit him as you take a swipe down to his balls.

Miguel’s grunts and shifts his hips back. His tip swerves around your face as he tries to find your mouth without unlatching his jaw from your sex. You help out with the last bit of sanity you have, and once you wrap your lips around him, his hips snap hard onto you.

All you can feel is Miguel entering you from top to bottom, his hands keeping you stationed in your position. There’s no room to do anything as he’s devouring you and taking your breath away at the same time. Two of his fingers sink into you, and you jerk from the difference between his skin and his tongue.

Miguel nibbles at the hood of your clit, urging you to be still. Whenever his fingers leave you, his pelvis fills your senses. Your throat gags around him, spit building to keep up with his thrusts.

“So good,” he hums. His pace picks up and the tears in your eyes fall to the floor. “Made for me. Only me.”

Your fingers wrap around his thighs and squeeze tight, your vision fading as you try to take in pockets of air. The shake in your legs and the broken moans that escaped your lips only ignited him.

“Bebé,” his hips stutter. He’s sloppy as he drools over the entrance, voice loud. “Bebé, you’re so, ngh.”

He cums down your throat, balls twitching against your face. You close your eyes and try to swallow everything, jaw aching. Miguel groans your name as he slides his dick out to the tip, a few spurts still landing on your lips. You cough, position making everything go north.

The taste of him was delicious, but you needed more of him elsewhere. Your mouth was as drenched as your cunt and yet you still felt empty.

When Miguel flips you back upright, you’re ready to pounce on him again. The state of you both is alarming. Your breasts have completely fallen out of your dress, that black thing barely holding on by its zipper. Miguel’s suit is phasing in and out in the most obscene places. There’s slick up to his eyebrows and his cum is all over your cheeks.

He grabs your jaw and runs his tongue over your face, cleaning up his mess. You let him live in his own bubble before that burning in your core came back.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and your whispers of “more” come to light. You’re clawing at him like a cat begging him to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away.

“Miguel,” you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Miguel, it hurts. Fix it, Miggy, please.”

You guide his hands down your body and place them on your ass. His touch sates you for only a moment, but your body reacts as if he needs to be deep in your bones. He spreads your ass and groans as the sound of how eager you are for him follows.

“You’re not ready,” are the words that make you even more frustrated. Your hands pushing and pulling at him, ready to try and put him where you want him to go.

He clicks his teeth and flexes his wrists. His webs tie your wrists together, neon red strings leaving a buzz on your skin. He yanks your dress off and you stumble with the motions.

The clinical room doesn’t aid the building heat you feel, but Miguel turning you around and pressing you into the wall as he cuts the rest of your panties off does.

He squats and grabs two hands full of you.

He spits onto your hole, mesmerized as he watches it slide to your entrance. “Qué hermosa,” he whispers.

You bend, whimpering as your folds cover his nose, clenching and grinding.

“God,” you sigh. Something this small was going to bring you to the edge so quickly. “D-don’t stop.”

“Greedy,” Miguel says as if he’s not moving the fat of your ass to nudge his face into you. The arch in your back deepens as he continues and your whines get higher.

He smacks your right cheek, sound echoing off the metal tables, and you shout his name as you coat his tongue.

Tranquility clears your mind for a second, one where the flowery scent in the air is less strong.

The peace leaves just as fast as it came when Miguel gets rid of his suit and stands behind you in all of his glory.

His eyes followed from your dewey face to the curve of your hips to bitten thighs to feet with one heel still on.

“He didn’t deserve to see this,” he says.

“W-what?”

Miguel ignores you and pulls your wrists up straight, a confused noise leaving you. He wraps another web around your ankles and huffs. He sets your arms under your chest, your hands in front of you like a prayer.

When he picks you up by your waist, his dick lines up with your ass.

He groans as he grinds, watching himself disappear and reappear.

You try to move with him, “No, not there. Inside.”

“You’re always so distracting,” he growls. He slides his length between your thick thighs and you nearly scream as his hips hit your ass, his tip just barely passing over your clit. “Can never think straight when I see you.”

He rubbed over the bite he left on your shoulder, “So pretty. My pretty baby.”

His low voice right in your ears only made you wetter. He was holding you like you were his toy, fucking the inside of your thighs with ease.

Miguel could cry watching your ass bounce on his stomach. Your legs were soft and warm and he just couldn’t stop.

“Want you so bad. Need to fuck you again and again and again,” he said as your thighs quivered around him.

“Please, Miguel. Make me yours,” your voice crowded the sound of his grunts as he held you up and pounded away.

Those were the magic words to get him to lean back with a firm grip on you and release all over the wall. It was everywhere, from your legs to the wall to the ceiling.

He set you to the floor with shaky arms, and you started to sob.

All of this and you still wanted more. If this was making you feel this insane, you can only imagine the small relief Miguel was feeling after being exposed for longer.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to the bare floor and cuts the webs. You immediately try to climb him, legs wrapping around his waist.

He was painfully hard for someone who came twice now.

Your cries of “inside” slur together, tears running down your face. Miguel was no better, fangs dripping with venom and the hairs on skin raised.

The two of you tussle as Miguel tries to keep your hips to stay stationary. You kept jerking in order to get some sort of friction but he was baring his teeth to get you to quit.

You dip your nails into his shoulders and arms while he drags a talon down your sternum to snap your bra off.

A clatter of your stiletto sounds off across the room as he pinches your thigh, “Easy, beautiful. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Fucking hurry,” you whine.

He shushes as he plunges inside of you, the noise you both make as loud as a choir.

Your eyes roll back as Miguel presses, bending your body in half.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel leans to whisper onto your lips.

Tight is the first thing that comes to mind and heat is the next.

He moves his hips up and slams back down, your ass shifting from the pressure.

“Miguel!”

“That’s it. Talk to me.” All of that chatter earlier and now you can barely get out a word.

“H-harder,” your hands don’t know where to go. They’re grabbing Miguel, they’re falling next to your head, they’re grabbing at your breasts as Miguel jerks your body.

Miguel goes to open your jaw, lips pulling on your tongue to suck. It’s tender and sensual compared to the way his balls are slapping against you. There’s a ring of white on his shaft getting thicker and thicker as he continues.

“Pretty thing,” he says as he lets your tongue go, a string of saliva falling to your neck. “Watched you on the cameras. Always.”

That stirs something in you, a spark in your chest as you see stars.

“Did you want to do this to me when you watched me?” you manage out.

“Yes.”

“I can put on a show for you next time.”

“Yes.”

“You can come in here. ‘N fuck me over the counter.”

“Sí, sí, baby,” his hands push your knees next to your head and he ruts against you. His thighs were straining as he took and took.

A yell pulls itself from your core, that burning feeling getting a crash of cold water. The dam bursts and you’re running all over Miguel, essence leaving every time he inches out and back in.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasps, eyes glazed over.

You nod your head, clenching and pulsing around him.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he shudders against you. You suck him in, gaining a deep moan from him, “Así, bebé. Take it.”

It’s like you can finally think as his cum overflows, your heart rate finally slowing.

He stares at you as you both come back to reality. Your body is limp, the weight of Miguel making itself known.

“Holy shit,” you wiggle and he catches the hint. He lifts a bit and pulls out. The swirl of you two falls out of you in waves. “What. The fuck.”

“God,” Miguel mumbles. “No shocking way we just did that.”

“You can’t say that when the evidence is leaking out of me.”

Miguel groans as he watches you, your face pouty and your hole glistening. It was intoxicating.

His dick twitches, coming to life again the longer he watches.

“‘M sorry in advance,” he says as he pulls you into his lap.

“Just take care of it, O’Hara.”

The two of you sat in the middle of the floor, breathing hard. Pieces of consciousness were starting to come back.

“You looked stunning tonight,” Miguel said. He looked at your shredded dress on the floor. “I’m glad he won’t see you in that dress anymore.”

The snort that leaves your nose turns into a full-blown laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just took my soul ten times over and you’re worried about a guy I just met less than a week ago. I fear I’m ruined for anyone else.”

“Oh,” he smiles. “Good.”

“You still should take me on a date. You’ve got a lot to explain.”

Flashes of him confessing to his habit of watching you from afar come back, “O-of course.”

“And you owe me a new dress.”

“On it.”

Lyla pops up next to you both, a blindfold over her shades, “Is it safe to talk to you guys now?”

Miguel checks his gizmo, “I think we’re good for about forty minutes. The effects are starting to wear off.”

“Excellent!” She throws the fabric to the side, “Oh my god, this room is a mess.”

You look at the array of substances over the room and grimace. The entire hall will have to be on lockdown.

“Well, I managed to vent out the solution. You two should be ok soon.”

You lean on Miguel’s chest and close your eyes, happy to hear good news.

“Kind of sad that this is what it took for you to confess, Miguel,” she comments.

“Lyla!”

You laugh again, “Some confession.”

“That’s enough,” Miguel scowls.

Your giggles die down as you pull yourself onto Miguel’s thigh, bubbles in your chest molding into moans as you start to grind over his thigh.

“I’m starting to think you guys are just bluffing,” Lyla gags before she disappears. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“I think,” you nuzzle into his neck, “this’ll be the last time. I’m tired.”

“If not, we can take it to my house.”

The world blurs again as you and Miguel connect under the white lights.

Take a shot every time I say breath or breathe 😭. Anywho, as always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[omniuravity]

Helluverse During Rut/Mating Season Headcanons

Tags: @bloodypeachblog , @hazelfoureyes , @pinkhimecat , @je-suis-eternel-jennie, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

TW: Sex (obviously), animalistic behavior, way too much research, creature cocks (kind of), mention of pregnancy

Thank you guys for the overwhelming positivity from the last one! Here's another one!

Angel Dust:

Angel doesn't really talk about mating season much, unless it's for his films. Val, of course, finds it sexy and makes Angel work anyway.

Like most male spiders, Angel tends to mate with multiple partners during mating season unless he's in a relationship.

Angel loves dancing with you during this time of year. He finds it brings himself closer to you.

Angel tries to make sure you don't feel pressured to have sex with him during his mating season. He wants you to feel comfortable and loved.

Angel is pretty submissive in bed despite him being the one wanting to mate with you, though expect him to want it a bit more rough.

"Come on, baby. I'll be gentle at first, then we can get to the kinky stuff~"

Adam:

An angel's rut or heat isn't nearly as intense as a demon's, unless you're as sexual as Adam.

Adam is normally very possessive, but he gets extra possessive of you when it's mating season. Another man can't even look at you without him blowing up.

Adam likes to help make a little nest for the two of you. Adam also likes to bring you shiny things for the nest.

Adam likes to play his guitar for you as a way to remind you how much he loves you.

Adam is normally pretty rough in bed, while he's rutting it's so much harder and deeper.

"Chill out, I'm gonna take really good care of you, babe~"

Blitzø:

Blitzø's heat is pretty intense. If he somehow has a partner you are not leaving his apartment.

He tries to cook for you, but unfortunately isn't very good. He always insists on cooking for you since he does most of the work in bed (or so he says).

Surprisingly, enough he does enjoy those gentle moments after sex with you. He'll never admit it though.

Speaking of gentle moments, he loves to cuddle. He will cuddle you like a teddy bear. If he starts to cry gently rub his back and hold him.

Blitzø is a VERY kinky motherfucker. He's open to trying every kink once. Any kink you can think of, he's tried it. Yep, even that one.

"Get down, it's time for some quality time with daddy~"

Stolas:

Stolas' rut is very different than most Goetias. He doesn't get as violent as other bird-like demons, but he's still very defensive of his partner.

He brings you all the shiny things for the nest you two share. He also doesn't mind being presented with shiny things.

Speaking of the nest, it consists of blankets, the shiny things, and his feathers.

He also enjoys cooking for you. He is much better than Blitzø, of course.

He's going to bottom. There is no question about it. He's also really loud when the two of you have sex

"I want to take this slow for you. I love you and want you to feel as loved as I do."

Verosika:

Verosika's heat is very intense due to her being a succubus. Though she doesn't let that change her demeanor in the bedroom.

She does have to stop performing for the public while she deals with her heat.

Even though she doesn't perform in public during her heat, she does sing for you.

She loves leaving marks on your body. Scratch marks, kisses, and bite marks will litter your body for days.

Verosika always tops, period. She takes good care of her submissives, though.

"You're so pretty, well not as pretty as me, but I'm still gonna take care of you, baby~"

[moldycheezeit]

Chapter 2

hi uh this took longer then it was supposed to because of my SAT testing and I'm having to study for my history STAAR (Texas state testing) then after that my finals so hopefully I survive.

Let's skip to a couple months later because I’m not writing all that. Also this isn't following the mcu nor the DC storyline.

You were currently in New York helping Tony with the gadgets he makes. Well that’s what you do part of the time the other part you hang around avengers tower. And currently you and a certain spider hero. who you see as an older brother, an annoying one but still a brother. Peter knew you saw him as such and he was proud of it. That he was the brother you chose HIM and not those stupid birds that were your so-called brothers. But ignoring that you were trying to make cookies. Damn do they look bad. “How do they look, peanut ?” Peter asked proudly. “I’m gonna be honest with you, you're terrible at getting the measurements right, I thought you were supposed to be smart.” You had replied while looking at the supposed cookie goop with disgust. “ Well damn screw you too I guess, maybe we can still save it…” Peter had said.

You might be wondering why you are here and does anyone know. Well after you won Tony gave you his card just in case you ever wanted to intern under him. With that he left, I mean he gave the other winners the same card, but you saw it as a great opportunity. So you unenrolled out for Gotham high. It was quite easy because You knew how to forage Bruce’s signature and It wasn’t as complicated as unenrolling out of a school like Gotham prep. Not like Bruce would notice anyways. Anyways, you took the internship and started staying in New York with Tony. while staying with him he started seeing you more like a daughter then an intern. Being around you made him feel more paternal but not in a normal way. Over time he realized he feels protective of you and never wants to let you go, and when I say never I mean NEVER. He doesn't understand how your family ignored and neglected you. You're the one of the best things that ever happened to him. Alright let's pretend we didn't see that and go back to the present. :)

“I mean if we add more flour we could probably save it.” You looked at Peter while saying. “But next time don't try to be stupid and wing it!” You had now started hitting him with the baking mitt that was next to you. “Hey stop that! it was an accident!” He tried to apologize while shielding his face from your rath. “What are you two doing?” The familiar voice of Tony had said. You turned to look at him and annoyingly said “Peter didn’t get the measurements right for the cookies we were supposed to be making but instead it turned into a gooey mess.” You were about to show him the bowl, but then you realized it was gone. “Hey where did it go?” You had started looking around we’re it just was. Peter had responded “oh I put it in the freezer to see if it would harden up so we could use it.” You couldn’t help but huff then look at Tony. “Do you need help with anything, because if not I’ll just go hang out in my room.” “Nah kid I’m fine right now” Tony said while smiling at you. With that you walked away. In the distance you hear your ‘brother’ yell “you’re just gonna leave me! Fine, I'll hang out with my friends then.”

You had gotten to the room Tony gave you. It had a desk, bookshelves, and had maps on the walls. You could never get why but you loved drawing them. It kinda helped you to decide to improve your gauntlet for communicating and basically having a gps. Ignoring all of it you decided to call Kidd, the guy who won 3rd place, because after the competition was over you two made good friends.(someone asked for this and I thought it would be cool, rip if I forget this) The call hadn’t been connected, then you remembered he said he had to get surgery for his arm today so he won’t be answering. He had told you something happened to his arm so they have to amputate it. That's basically the whole reason he built that robotic arm. Now sitting in silence you start thinking about your life currently. You got this amazing opportunity to work with Tony Stark and you can’t lie you see him more as a dad then you even saw Bruce. Instead of dealing with all your brothers who don’t like you, you have Peter who actually loves hanging out with you. While in your thoughts you didn't hear the door to your room open. Tony walks in and sits on your bed, and when you feel the dip in the bed you realize he’s in the room. You look at him and he starts speaking. “Hey peanut are you doing ok you seem kinda quiet lately.” “I’m ok it’s just been weird dealing with all these things I’ve never experienced before when I was in Gotham…” you had said quietly. Tony places his hand on your head and comforts you in his own way. After a long silence he starts talking. “I came here for another reason. I have a question for you bub and you can say yes or no I’ll be fine with it.” He takes in a deep breath as you wait for it with anticipation. “Do you wish to join the avengers..with the rise of villains I want to keep you safe and I feel like joining us would help you. You don’t have to do any missions. You can stay here and be like our tech girl, but I’ll also have you trained in case something comes up where you do need to fight.” But what you didn't know was that his real reason for it was to keep you near him so you couldn't leave. I mean why would you, you're his precious daughter after all. It was quiet for a moment and you had answered. “Yea, I’ll do it.”

“Tony, why is Natasha here?” “She’s going to teach you how to fight, or in other words self defense.” All three of you were in one of the towers' training rooms. You look at Nat as she smiles at you. “Alright I’ll leave you to it.” He says before he leaves. He already told Natasha not to hurt you too badly. Now why would he want his little peanut to get really hurt, no father would want that for their daughter. Nat turns to look at you and says “alright let’s start off with the basics.”

You had been training with Natasha for a month now, and she’s taught you a good portion of what she knows. Currently she’s helping you defend yourself from an attacker with a knife. “ Let's start with how to fight against someone wielding a blade. (y/n) try attacking me.” You look down at the fake knife in your hand then back up at her.“ Are you sure?” she tells you “there's no need to hold back” “all right here I come” you say right before you run at her swinging the knife wildly. “When someone's waving a knife around, keep your distance. If they attack directly, plant one leg and use it to pivot and dodge, then grab their wrist and back at the same time and slam them to the ground.” She explains as she does the motions on you. (yes I did take this from the scene where gunhead is teaching uraraka how to fight (ᵕ—ᴗ—)) “ ow.. that kinda hurts.” “Well it's not supposed to feel good.” Natasha smiles at you as you get up from the floor. “Alright we’re done for today's training. You're doing good, peanut.” Upon hearing that you rush out of the room as fast as your sore body could carry you. As soon as you made it back to your room you laid on your bed, just laying there that's all. Not knowing there were cameras watching your every move. Your dear old man had put them in your room after he found out his big little obsession with you. But he doesn't watch you get changed or anything, he just wants to know what you're doing 24/7 to make sure you're safe. While laying on your bed you accidentally fell asleep. You know I wonder what's happening right now in Gotham?

The manor is quiet, it normally is but for the past few months it's been eerily quiet. Like there was supposed to be something there but it's not there. Currently Tim was walking around the manor looking for a place to possibly nap seeing as his room is filled with his tech and it’s all noisy. Then he came across a room that was slightly ajar. It was on the other side of the manor. When he opened it there was a bedroom, it was the same size as another guest room in the manor. But it looked like it was lived in at one point in time. The more he was in the room the more familiar it seemed. He felt as if he knew who once lived within these walls. That's when he stopped at the closet. Something tempted him to open it, so with his natural curiosity he did. What he found inside was old boxes, some filled with awards and medals while others filled with old clothes, pictures, and books. As he snooped through them he was surprised someone other than him had won all these awards and the family never noticed. On all the trophies he kept seeing the name (y/n). ‘Why did that name sound so familiar?’ he thought while moving to another box. This time it had some pictures. At first he saw a picture of a beautiful woman, Bruce's dead wife. He knows who she is by the many paintings of her in the manor, specifically the one in his office. The further he got in the box the more he saw pictures of this girl, who looks like a younger version of the woman in the pictures. As he picked up one picture and looked at it, he froze. It was the girl, who he presumes is (y/n), and recognizes her. It's an old picture from when she was much younger but he remembers her face a slight bit, but that's because every time he saw her it would be with discussed in his eyes. He doesn't remember why he would look at her that way. She never did anything wrong to him. She was just a little girl who wanted someone who loved her. It caused him to feel guilt in his heart. He had to fix this without the family knowing. He had to find (y/n) and fix this. And with that he took some of her things in a box he dumped out and headed to his room to find his little sister.

Hopefully you guys liked it (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

I’m sorry I made you wait so long. ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol @tinybrie @victoria1676 @r-u-s-s-i-a-h @lostsomewhereinthegarden @h-ib @xheri122 @0sunnyside01 @momentomoribitch @1abi @redsakura101 @mariadvorak @awawage @crazycaoticsimp @jsprien213 @vanessa-boo @alishii @xzmickeyzx @sirenetheblogger @bunniotomia

Omg so many of you guys ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

Also guys does anyone know how to make a master list? I wanna make one so people don’t have to scroll through my post trying to look for stuff.

[ellierium]

‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚

cw: nsfw and sfw themes ahead. mentions of a strap, sex, bondage, public sex, pussy eating, etc.

ᯓ★

𝐬𝐟𝐰:

✶ she developed her webs in joel's garage. he damn near had a heart attack when he caught her stuck to the ceiling of her room after her taking a "sick day" from school. very early stages of her spider-woman era, but joel still teases her about it. he tells you the story once ellie lets him know that you know.

✶ she has a bad habit of not pulling her punches. she can't quite help it — joel didn't raise her to play nice with others like that. especially others who like to prey on innocent people.

✶ she doesn't like calling herself a super-hero. she's not one, really. she'd say she's a vigilante more than anything else. she's very adamant about it. its endearing.

✶ she absolutely loves giving the cops a hard time and she takes credit for every bad guy that gets caught. she's known for making them go on wild goose chases and exhausting their "resources" too. she makes them work for the arrest. if she's busting her ass every night, they should be too. joel (captain miller...) is not very fond of it.

✶ speaking of captain joel, thats the only reason she really helps the cops. otherwise, she wouldn't be handing them these arrests. there's certain things the cops can't do that a vigilante can. and if captain joel turns a blind eye, so will everyone else.

✶ because she's got a healing factor, she smokes. she smokes more around the holidays. she’ll go through a pack a week if she doesn’t reel herself in. she usually doesn’t, honestly, but such is life.

✶ she loves seeing little kids dressed as her. she does her best to interact with them when she's making rounds.

✶ villains don't really like fighting her because she doesn't dodge. she'll take the hits because she just doesn't care. its a sight to see, really — this chick with her suit ripped up, hands relaxed at her sides, staring straight at whoever just threw the punch. make sure to clear the area if she starts laughing.

✶ she has perfectly curated playlists for her swinging sessions. only join her if you're prepared to invest in good headphones so she can share her playlist.

✶ she takes you around the city if you don't want to take the train, bus or a taxi. its just easier, honestly.

✶ super dork. loves comic books and she was ecstatic to design her first suit. she keeps it in the back of her closet to look at every now and then.

✶ she's a photographer for the local paper. guess who always gets the best angles of spider-woman?

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰:

✶ she uses her webs for things she probably shouldn't. she likes tying you up and using you to her hearts content. she'll web your mouth shut if you don't quiet down.

✶ she's insanely strong so if she's out of webs, she'll just hold you down herself. she's got a bad habit of doing it anyway.

✶ she's also very flexible. it comes in handy when you want to have your way with her, too — knees pushed to her shoulders, your tongue lapping up every drop of slick that drips out of her cunt.

✶ she loves fucking you with the mask on. you don't admit to having fantasized about it, but she clocks you as soon as you guide her hands to your ass one night after she came back from patrol.

✶ she'll take you to the highest skyscraper just to fuck you over the edge. it takes a few times to get used to the swoop! in your stomach when she takes you up there the first few times, but now its just a part of the foreplay.

✶ she'll snatch you up when you least expect it and then eat you out in an alleyway if she's missing you that bad. she just can't help it.

✶ she really likes roleplaying, specifically when you pretend to be in trouble and she comes around to rescue you. how else do you expect to repay her if not by riding her strap?

✶ she's very possessive when she's a civilian with you. and she hates that she can't be loud and proud about it when she has the mask on. at the end of the day, though, its her tongue in your cunt as you whimper her name. such is life when your girlfriend is spider-woman.

✶ she's the worst at flirting but can't help dirty talk in bed. it just falls off the tongue.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Could you do something similar to the one where we’re rocket but instead spider man for the invincible characters.

Just a Friendly Neighborhood Spider

A/N… spider, spider spideyyy— spiders scare the hell out of meeeee; but Spider-Man is nice. I don’t know if I got issues there but eh— anyway that’s my two cents. Content is the generally same here.

Canon-divergent themes, included mention of spider-mans common backstory, mentions of past stress, found-family, platonic relationships, their asses does not know how your still okay as a hero

Cecil Stedman

You and Cecil meet under unusual circumstances—Cecil approached you after hearing about you from various sources. He’s heard of a new vigilante with superhuman abilities running around, and while you aren’t a part of an official superhero league, Cecil sees potential.

Your first encounter is awkward. You swing in and lands on top of a building, ready for a fight, expecting a confrontation with someone shady. Instead, Cecil stands calmly with his arms crossed, unimpressed by your acrobatics.

You’re skeptical about Cecil at first. Having heard of the Global Defense Agency and their somewhat questionable methods. The whole "ends justify the means" thing doesn't sit well with you, especially considering how you strive to avoid doing anything that could harm innocents. 

Cecil’s cold, detached demeanor and history with morally gray areas leave you wary. You don't know if you can trust him.

Cecil sees you as a wild card, a loose cannon who’s more concerned with your own morality than the big picture. Despite this, he respects your abilities and quick thinking. He doesn’t necessarily see you as a “good guy” yet but is intrigued by the potential in you.

Cecil knows how to read people, and while he doesn't immediately trust you, he knows that your ideals of responsibility might align with his own goals if managed correctly. However, Cecil believes you could be more effective if you were willing to make the hard choices. More often to be specific. 

You start to clash with Cecil’s utilitarian mindset. As a spider person, you believe in the sanctity of life and refuse to cross certain lines—something Cecil sees as naïve. He tries to show you that sometimes, making hard decisions for the greater good is necessary, even if it involves casualties or compromising one's morals.

Cecil certainly doesn’t mince his words when explaining his viewpoint: "You want to save the world? Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made. You can’t save everyone, and you definitely can't save the world by being nice all the time."

You however, refuse to let go of your principles. Your determined to show Cecil that you don’t have to compromise what’s right to do what’s needed. You have intense conversations, especially after your encounters with more dangerous foes.

Cecil doesn’t back down either. He will occasionally use manipulation, even flattery, to try and convince you that your idealism is impractical. But you, with your strong sense of justice, aren't easily swayed.

While Cecil is known for his cold, calculated persona, it becomes clear that there’s more to him than meets the eye. In private moments, Cecil reveals his deeper feelings about protecting humanity. He genuinely cares, but his trauma and experiences have shaped him into someone willing to make sacrifices for the sake of the bigger picture.

He often has conversations with you that show he’s not all heartless. He’ll explain the importance of taking the necessary steps to protect those who might not understand the bigger threats.

After a particularly difficult mission where you failed to save someone you promised you would, you had a conversation with Cecil about the weight of responsibility.

You confess your guilt, admitting that every time you fail, it feels like Uncle Ben’s death is haunting you all over again. Cecil listens quietly before offering his perspective. “The difference between us, [Name], is that I don’t have the luxury of guilt. I make decisions and live with them. That’s the price of leadership.”

While this doesn’t sit well with you, it pushes you to think about your own role and how you can grow as a hero—without compromising your values.

Cecil sees potential in you as a leader, especially after some tough encounters with dangerous supervillains. However, he takes a reluctant approach to mentoring you, not wanting to directly influence you but recognizing that you could one day play a pivotal role in global defense.

He offers advice sparingly, making sure to always emphasize that decisions need to be made for the greater good. When you don't take the advice, Cecil is quick to point out, “It’s your choice. But remember, the world won’t wait for you to figure it out.”

In moments when you're frustrated or feeling overwhelmed, Cecil has a tendency to give “tough love” in the form of biting commentary. For example: “The world’s full of heroes who think they can do it all without paying a price. But in the end, the world won’t remember the cost—only the result. If you want to be a hero, you need to stop acting like a kid.”

This drives you to prove that you can handle the responsibility without losing sight of what’s right.

While your methods may differ, both you and Cecil are fighting for the same thing: the protection of Earth and its people. However, Cecil’s willingness to make ethically questionable decisions contrasts with your idealism.

At some point, your paths will cross on a major mission. Cecil, taking the lead, might make a decision that you cannot morally back, and you will have to decide whether to stand by him or go against him for the first time.

This moment will be a significant turning point in your allyship, where you have to define the kind of hero you want to be, while Cecil demonstrates the brutal pragmatism required to safeguard humanity from destruction.

Over time, despite the philosophical differences, both you and Cecil begin to develop a mutual respect for each other. You recognize the weight Cecil carries as a leader and the difficult choices he must make. On the other hand, Cecil begins to see the value in your perseverance and the fact that sometimes, holding on to the ideals of kindness and empathy can be just as powerful as cold efficiency.

You’d first met Cecil under tense circumstances—another mission where Cecil’s pragmatism clashed hard with your morals. That first meeting had left a bitter taste in your mouth, like biting into a sour apple and wondering if it was worth the effort.

“Do you even care about the people you're saving?” You had asked once, all fired up after Cecil made yet another morally grey decision. "Or are they just pawns in your game?"

Cecil’s response had been cold, almost clinical: “There are no pawns. Just pieces. The game is bigger than you think.”

At the time, you had thought it was a load of nonsense. That was before you started seeing the sacrifices Cecil had made, the risks he’d taken, and the toll it had all taken on him.

There was something about the way Cecil carried himself now—his quiet confidence, his hardened demeanor—that you could finally understand. It wasn’t cruelty. It was survival. It was the unbearable burden of keeping the world from falling apart at the seams.

“Maybe I was wrong about you,” You muttered under your breath, pulling your mask down and letting the city lights reflect in your lenses. The words felt strange, foreign even, but true.

Cecil was no saint, but who was? Certainly not you, who had made your fair share of mistakes. You’d learned that sometimes saving the day meant getting your hands dirty and making decisions you didn't like. Decisions where the right thing to do wasn't always clear.

Allen The Alien

You were just an ordinary high school student before everything changed. One night, you were bitten by a radioactive spider, and it flipped your whole world upside down. You had no idea what was happening to you at first, but that spider bite unlocked powers you never could have dreamed of.

At first, you were just trying to have some fun. You didn't have a clear purpose. You used your powers for personal gain, participating in wrestling matches and showing off to your friends. You didn't take it seriously. Until that day.

The day you let that burglar slip away, you didn't think much of it. After all, you weren't a superhero back then—just a guy with new powers. But then you heard it. That scream. Uncle Ben was gone.

That was the turning point for you. You felt that pain in your chest like you couldn't breathe, and it was all your fault. "With great power comes great responsibility." Those words hit harder than any punch ever could. 

From then on, you dedicated yourself to fighting crime. You were no longer just a guy swinging through the city for fun. You had a responsibility now, a promise to make things right. You couldn’t let anyone else suffer like you did.

Enter Allen the Alien. You first met him during one of your many encounters with cosmic-level threats. Allen was this huge, orange, muscular alien with a penchant for humor. He showed up on Earth, and, boy, was he different from the usual villains or threats you faced.

"You know, Earthlings really love their fast food... but you should try something out of this world!" His light-hearted humor was one thing, but the guy was undeniably strong. You could feel the raw power just by being in the same room as him.

At first, you didn’t know what to think of Allen. He was from another planet, part of the Coalition of Planets, and you had more than enough to worry about with your own problems. But, after a while, you started to see the heart beneath that tough exterior.

Allen was a warrior through and through, but he also had this sense of responsibility that you could relate to. He didn't take lightly the weight of his actions, even if he joked around to mask the seriousness of things.

"Yeah, I was born to fight the Viltrumites, but you... you remind me of something. You’ve got that 'do the right thing no matter the cost' vibe. I can respect that.”

His story was different from yours, but there was a part of it that resonated. He was born to fight, bred for a purpose that didn’t even involve him. You both understood what it meant to have a higher responsibility, even when the odds were stacked against you.

One thing that always stood out to you was how quickly Allen adapted. He healed faster than you could blink, shrugging off injuries that would have been fatal to anyone else. Maybe he was born with that, but you were learning to adapt in your own way, too.

 Even when Allen faced down the Viltrumites, he never lost his sense of humor. "You know, when I was growing up, I thought ‘intergalactic space wars’ would be way more fun."

Over time, you learned a lot from Allen. His sheer strength and resilience were beyond anything you could imagine, but it wasn’t just that. It was his resolve that stuck with you. No matter how tough things got, he kept moving forward. Maybe that was the real lesson you needed to learn—no matter how many times you fall, you get back up.

You both faced different kinds of battles, but you were learning how to face them together. Allen had a strange way of making even the toughest situations feel a little lighter. "I’ve faced cosmic threats, but nothing compares to dodging traffic in New York!"

 It wasn’t always about throwing punches or swinging webs; sometimes it was about being there for someone, even if they came from a totally different world. You weren’t just a high school student with superpowers anymore. You were part of something bigger. 

Every time you suit up as Spider-Man, you feel a little stronger, not just physically, but mentally too. Allen helped you realize that responsibility isn't something you just take on for the moment—it’s something you carry forever. It’s about being the kind of hero the world needs, even when you feel like you’re not enough.

"You may not have the cosmic power I do, kid, but you’ve got the heart. And that's what matters." Allen’s words echo in your mind as you swing through the city, always searching for that next villain to stop, that next person to save. You're not just Spider-Man. You're a hero, and you won't let anyone forget it.

"I feel like I’m going to break something in here," he said, his voice echoing slightly as he adjusted himself.

"You’ll be fine," you teased, taking a seat across from him. "Just... don’t crush anything. Joe’s already nervous about you."

Moments later, a piping-hot pizza was placed in front of you. The cheese was bubbling, the pepperoni crisped perfectly, and the crust had that golden-brown edge that only the best places could achieve. You slid a slice onto your plate, taking in the first bite.

It was perfect.

"Okay, Allen," you said, mouth half full. "The moment of truth. You’ve got to try this."

He hesitated for a moment, eyeing the slice, but you could see the curiosity building. He lifted a piece carefully, his three-fingered hand gripping the crust. You watched, eager to see his reaction.

Allen took a bite. Then another. His large eye widened slightly, and you could swear you saw a little hint of surprise. "Hmm... this is... actually good. Really good!"

"I told you!" You leaned back in your chair, satisfied. "It’s simple, but it’s amazing. Joe's been perfecting this recipe for decades."

Allen grinned, taking another bite. "You Earthlings have a lot of surprises up your sleeves. I’m starting to think this pizza might be the real power behind your superhero antics."

You laughed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. "You might be onto something. A good slice can keep me going for days. But, you know, it’s not just about the food. It’s about the experience. The vibe of the place. It’s... it's home."

Allen looked around, clearly taking it all in now. "I see what you mean. This isn’t just a meal; it’s... part of your culture. I think I’m starting to understand Earth a little better now."

You both sat in companionable silence for a while, just eating and talking. Allen, despite his cosmic origins, had a way of making everything feel casual, light, and fun. He didn’t come off as intimidating or aloof. He was just a guy, sharing a meal, listening to the hum of the jukebox in the background.

Eventually, you finished up the pizza, and the conversation drifted from food to bigger things. His experiences as part of the Coalition, the time he spent fighting off the Viltrumites, and the crazy things he’d encountered in outer space. For all his power, there was an undeniable kindness to him, a desire to connect and understand.

As you both stood up to leave, you slapped him on the back. "Glad you liked it. I know it’s not cosmic cuisine, but it’s got its charm, right?"

Allen chuckled, dusting off the crumbs from his shirt. "I think I’m gonna need more of this Earth pizza. You might just have a new convert to your side, Spider-Man."

You smirked. "That’s the spirit. Welcome to Earth, buddy."

Mark Grayson

You were always the responsible one—even before you donned the mask. You were that student who was always on time, worked hard, and tried to balance everything. Your Uncle Ben’s passing shifted everything for you, but the weight of responsibility was something you accepted easily, considering your powers.

You remember your first fight as Spider-Man like it was yesterday. It wasn’t about saving lives at first—it was about the spectacle, the fame. You were just a kid with newfound abilities, using them for personal gain. But that all changed after Uncle Ben’s death. That moment, the one you could have stopped, became a reminder of what happens when power is used recklessly.

You’d still feel the guilt sometimes, even though you’ve saved more lives than you can count since then. Every time you see a criminal slip through the cracks or a life lost because you weren’t fast enough—it takes you back to that night.

You keep going though, for Ben. His words echo in your mind every day: "With great power comes great responsibility." It’s a lesson you learned the hard way, and one you’d make sure no one else would forget.

When it comes to Mark Grayson, though... you get it. You understand where he’s coming from. You both share a similar weight on your shoulders. The responsibility of being a hero isn’t just about power—it’s about making the tough decisions, even if they tear you apart.

You’ve faced difficult choices yourself. Killing a villain is something you’ve never wanted to do, but there are times when you’ve come close. You were ready to let your rage consume you, like when you went head-to-head with the likes of Venom or the Green Goblin. But you always held back. You weren’t going to be that kind of hero.

But Mark? His struggle is real. You’ve seen him go through the emotional turmoil of having to take a life—or the temptation to. His father's influence weighs heavily on him, and you can’t help but wonder how similar you two are in that regard. You’ve both had to make impossible choices, torn between what’s right and what’s necessary.

That’s the thing about being a hero, though—you never really know if you're making the right call. Every time you step into the fray, there's a chance you might make a mistake. But like you told yourself the day you became Spider-Man, you keep fighting because if you don’t, who will?

Seeing Mark struggle with that line between mercy and vengeance makes you realize you’re not alone in your doubts. There’s this heavy responsibility that you both bear, and it’s a burden that doesn't get any easier with time. You sometimes think back to your early days, before you fully understood the consequences of your actions, and wonder how different things could’ve been if you’d made different choices.

You understand his anger. The feeling of losing someone close, especially when a villain is directly responsible for it—it's something that hits too close to home. But even in those moments of pure rage, you remind yourself that you're not your enemy. Neither is Mark. You can't let your pain define who you are, and neither can he. But there are days when you both forget that.

You don’t have all the answers, but you know one thing for sure: it’s a struggle, and the right choice isn’t always the easiest one. Mark will figure it out in time, just like you did. But right now? He's learning the same lesson you did when you were his age: sometimes being a hero means losing pieces of yourself along the way.

You both deal with pressure differently. You wear a mask, but Mark—he has to carry the weight of his father’s legacy in plain sight. He doesn’t get to hide behind a disguise the way you do. That has to be tough.

But that’s the difference between you two. Even though you’ve had your fair share of struggles, you never lost sight of what it meant to protect the innocent. Mark, on the other hand, is walking that line between vengeance and justice. You’ve seen the toll it’s taken on him, and you don’t want him to make the same mistakes you did.

You keep fighting. For Ben. For Mark. For everyone you’ve promised to protect. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be there to help him when the weight of it all threatens to break him, like it almost did to you.

Because at the end of the day, you're both just trying to do the right thing in a world that often doesn’t make it easy to know what that is.

Despite your different circumstances, you both understood that being a hero meant sacrifice. And more often than not, the most painful sacrifices weren’t physical—they were emotional.

"Do you ever think about giving it up?" Mark once asked, his voice heavy with the burden of the question. You sat next to him, a slight breeze ruffling the edges of your mask. It had been a slow night—no danger on the horizon. But that didn’t make things feel any less tense.

You looked over at him, eyes meeting his with a level of understanding you couldn’t explain. "Sometimes. Yeah. I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s exhausting. And the more you try to do right, the more you see how wrong everything really is. But then you realize you can’t just walk away from it."

Mark nodded, his gaze shifting to the city below. "Yeah. My dad said something like that to me. But... I don't know, sometimes it feels like I’m becoming the thing I’m supposed to be fighting. Like every time I get stronger, I’m just moving closer to losing myself."

You were silent for a moment. You hadn’t heard Mark speak like this in a while, so openly about the fear that his power might become too much for him to control. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

"I get it," you said finally, your voice quiet. "The more you grow into this, the more you realize that power—whether you’re ready for it or not—can change you. And yeah, sometimes you wonder if you're losing pieces of yourself along the way." You paused. "But here's the thing, Mark: It’s not about whether or not you lose yourself. It’s about who you become in the process. Whether you stay true to what matters—whether you choose to keep fighting, no matter how hard it gets. You won’t be the same person at the end of this. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be someone worth being."

Mark gave you a glance, a small, tired smile forming on his face. “Yeah. I know. It’s just… hard.”

You let out a breath and clapped him lightly on the back. "Tell me about it. I still don't have all the answers. But we're doing the best we can, right?"

Mark laughed softly, shaking his head. "I guess so. Just wish it didn’t feel like I’m always a step behind."

The Immortal

You are Spider-Man. You’re not just the friendly neighborhood superhero; you’re also [Name] [Surname], a student who took up the mantle of Spider-Man after the tragic loss of your Uncle Ben. You’d never forget his words: “With great power comes great responsibility.” That lesson is the core of who you are now, even if it took you a while to realize it. 

At first, you used your powers for selfish reasons: showing off, making money, entertaining crowds. But your world shattered when the very burglar you let go wound up killing Uncle Ben. That moment... it changed you forever. You learned that having powers wasn’t just about what you could do; it was about what you should do.

You feel a sense of duty to protect the innocent. It’s a lesson you learned the hard way, but one you carry with you every day. You’ve been through so much—fighting criminals, dodging bullets, and juggling school—but you can’t ever let yourself forget: You’re here to help people, no matter the cost. 

The city might see you as a nuisance or a freak sometimes, but it doesn't matter. You put on the mask because that’s what Uncle Ben would’ve wanted. It’s why you keep swinging from skyscraper to skyscraper, fighting crime, and occasionally getting your butt handed to you by villains who don’t know when to quit. 

You wear your guilt like a weight. The loss of Uncle Ben will never leave you. Every victory, every villain you defeat, it’s all a way to try and make up for your failure. That’s why you never let your guard down. You’ve made mistakes, and those are scars you wear on your soul.

You see people suffer, and you think: If only I’d stopped that one burglar, maybe none of this would’ve happened. But you can’t undo the past, can you? The only thing left to do is to keep fighting. Keep making sure that no one else experiences what you did. No one else should have to live with that kind of regret.

You’re not the only hero out there. You’ve crossed paths with others—like the Immortal—and you can’t help but feel both awe and fear. Immortal is a being who has lived for millennia, seeing history unfold before his eyes. His long life is a double-edged sword; he’s experienced more loss than anyone should have to. He’s seen entire civilizations rise and fall, but you can tell that it’s breaking him down bit by bit.

Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to live that long. Would you even want to? To see the world you love change over and over, to see everyone around you age while you stay the same? Immortal has been there, and though he’s strong, you see the cracks in his demeanor. The pain. The loneliness. Even a hero as powerful as him isn’t immune to the effects of time.

You and Immortal, you’re not so different. Both of you have experienced loss—immense loss—that’s shaped who you are today. You understand what it’s like to carry the weight of a loved one’s death. You don’t have immortality, but you’ve had to make peace with your mortality.  

Immortal, despite his immortality, seems like he’s lost something you can never truly understand. The sheer weight of his past lives seems to haunt him in ways that you can't fathom. He’s spent so many years fighting that it's not clear if he’s ever had a chance to just… live. It's hard to not feel a little sorry for him, even though you know he's a warrior through and through.

You’ve had your own brushes with psychological trauma. Not quite like Immortal, but close enough. Every time you’re in a fight, every time a loved one is in danger, the memory of Uncle Ben resurfaces. That moment, where you stood by and did nothing, gnaws at you. It’s not something you can ever fully escape. But in a way, it drives you. You can’t afford to fail again.  

Immortal’s PTSD hits different though. When he returned after Omni-Man killed him, it was as if the very foundation of his existence had cracked. You’ve seen that rage in his eyes, the same kind of madness that comes from living centuries. You wonder how someone can hold on to their humanity for so long.

You try not to dwell on your losses. You’ve lost friends, sure, but you’ve also gained a few. Like Mary Jane, or even the occasional team-up with other heroes. But Immortal... he’s had too many relationships to count, and each one has left him with a piece of his heart shattered.  

His relationship with Dupli-Kate is one you can relate to. Losing her must’ve felt like the last straw. But when he saw her alive again, you could tell that something inside him shifted. It’s like a weight was lifted, but you could see the fragility in his eyes. Even immortality can’t protect him from the emotional toll of loss.

Sometimes, you wish you could be more like Immortal. You know that might sound strange. After all, he's got centuries of experience, unmatched power, and the ability to bounce back from almost anything. But the truth is, he’s experienced so much that he’s become hardened, disconnected, and, at times, borderline nihilistic. You’ve seen how being alone in the world for so long has affected him.  

You might be dealing with your own struggles, but at least you’ve got people who care about you—people like Aunt May, Mary Jane, even your classmates at school. You might not have immortality, but you have something he might’ve lost: the ability to connect, to have a life beyond your role as a hero.

You are Spider-Man, but you're also [Name] [Surname]. There’s a difference. While you juggle school, friends, and family, your role as Spider-Man often has you questioning whether you can keep it all together. Immortal’s existence has been shaped by countless lives, but your life is still in the making. You’re trying to figure it out as you go, but you know one thing for sure: You’ll never stop fighting.  

You have your own reason for fighting, for carrying that weight, and even when you’re exhausted, when you feel like you’re about to break, you know that you’re never truly alone. At least, not yet. 

In the end, it's about the people you save. That’s what keeps you going. You look at someone like Immortal, who has been through more than you can imagine, and you realize: He might never truly have peace, but you can still find a way to make a difference. You won’t give up, even when the odds seem impossible. Because, like Uncle Ben taught you, with great power comes great responsibility. And you’ll carry that burden with pride, no matter what.

You’ve crossed paths with him a few times, but this time... there was something different about him. His posture wasn’t regal or composed as usual. He seemed... tired. Worn. Even in the air, the weight of centuries seemed to hang on his broad shoulders.

You landed beside him, the air crackling with the sound of your webbing connecting to the wall of the nearby building.

“Everything alright, Immortal?” you asked, your voice casual but laced with curiosity.

He turned to face you, his piercing blue eyes softening slightly when they met yours. There was a flicker of recognition, but also something else—something raw, like a man who had lived far too long without a true friend.

“I suppose you could say I’m... trying to figure it all out,” he replied, his voice deep and gravely, tinged with the weight of a life lived far beyond your years.

“You and me both,” you said with a small smile. “I mean, sure, I’ve only been at this whole ‘superhero’ thing for a few years, but still... figuring things out is kind of my thing.”

Immortal chuckled softly, a sound you didn’t expect from him, given his usual stoic demeanor.

“Tell me, Spider-Man,” he began, his voice tinged with curiosity. “Do you ever wonder... what it’s all for? After everything I’ve seen, after all the loss and pain, I can’t help but wonder what the purpose is. I’ve lived longer than most could ever dream, but all I’ve gained is an unrelenting sense of... emptiness.”

You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him. He was right—he’d lived for centuries, witnessed the rise and fall of entire civilizations, but it was clear that what had weighed him down wasn’t just the physical battles he’d faced. It was the emotional toll, the endless cycle of loss that had left him scarred.

“I think I get what you mean,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “I don’t have centuries of experience like you do, but I know what it’s like to lose someone. My uncle... he taught me that you have to keep moving forward, even when the world feels like it’s falling apart. But you know what? I’ve realized something.” You paused, gathering your thoughts, the words coming to you more easily than you expected.

“You don’t have to carry the weight alone. I know that might sound cliché, but... you can still find purpose in the smallest of moments. In helping someone on the street, in protecting the people you care about. Sometimes... that’s enough. It’s not about fixing everything, Immortal. It’s about finding meaning in the little things that make life worth living.”

The Immortal looked at you, his expression hard to read. There was a long silence between you two, a silence that stretched like an old memory trying to form itself into something new.

“You might be right, Spider-Man,” he finally said, his voice a little softer now. “I’ve spent so much time looking at the big picture—fighting wars, saving worlds—that I’ve forgotten what it means to just... live. To be present. Maybe I’ve been so focused on the idea of purpose that I’ve missed the joy in it all.”

You could feel the shift in him, like a weight lifting just a little. The Immortal wasn’t a man of many words, and yet you’d somehow managed to break through to him. Maybe it was your youthful optimism, or maybe it was just your perspective—one that hadn’t been soured by centuries of fighting. But it seemed like he was seeing things differently now.

“Maybe... you could teach me something then,” he said after a beat. “I’ve been so focused on what I can do with my powers, I’ve never stopped to think about what I should do.”

“I think we all get caught up in that sometimes,” you replied, your smile growing a little wider. “It’s easy to forget why we fight in the first place. But it’s about more than just saving the day or taking down bad guys. It’s about the people we protect, the lives we touch.”

Immortal nodded slowly, as if considering your words.

“You speak of people, Spider-Man... of connections,” he said, his tone distant, like he was searching for something in his own mind. “You’re right. I’ve lost so much, and I’ve built walls to protect myself from the pain. But I’m not sure I understand... love. The kind of love that bonds people, that makes them fight for each other, sacrifice for one another.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering how to respond. It was clear that Immortal had never really understood the nuances of love—not in the way you had. You, with your aunt May, your friends, and your own quiet relationships with people who meant something to you. You’d learned what love could be—the deep, unconditional connection that went beyond time and power.

“Love’s a funny thing, Immortal,” you began, your voice gentle. “It’s not always easy. It’s messy. Sometimes, it’s a simple touch, a shared moment. Other times, it’s something so deep, it feels like it’ll break you. But it’s also what makes life worth living. It’s what makes us human, even if we’re not... well, human.”

The Immortal let out a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“You make it sound... simple. But I can see that for you, love isn’t just a fleeting feeling. It’s something that drives you. I’ve watched you, Spider-Man. The way you protect those you care about, the way you show up when others wouldn’t. It’s not power that defines you, it’s heart. And that’s something I’ve forgotten, over the years. The need to care. To love. To let others in.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You’d never thought of it like that—like love was the thing that tied everything together, like it was the thread that held it all up. But as you stood there, staring at the Immortal—this being who had lived for centuries, witnessed entire lifetimes come and go—you realized something.

Love had kept you going. Your love for Aunt May, your friends, your city. It was why you kept fighting, even when everything seemed impossible.

“I think you’re closer to understanding it than you think,” you said, offering him a soft smile. “Love isn’t just romantic or familial. It’s the bond we form with everyone, even the people we save. It’s what makes life so special, even when it seems endless and lonely. It’s what makes everything you’ve done matter. You’ve saved so many lives, Immortal. You may not see it, but that’s love too.”

The Immortal was silent, staring at you with a mix of admiration and introspection. His posture, which had once been stiff and burdened with the weight of the world, now seemed more relaxed, more thoughtful.

[jinxs-gf]

The Human Spider

The Team x Spider!Reader

summary: you are this universe’s one and only spider-person.

warnings/content: set before the 1st episode of young justice s1, a few marvel references, this whole thing is from the perspective of the reader who’s basically Spider-Man so the writing is a bit silly…but I like it

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is essentially an introduction to this world, I’m really hoping I can pop a couple fics within this little universe 😭🙏🏽 if not then…I’m sorry LMAO. only time will tell. ENJOY!!!

Life was good.

I mean, how could it not be? You got to fight side by side with some of Earth's greatest heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash...oh and Black Canary and—

Yeah. It was great. Not to mention how incredibly easy it was for you to defeat the bad guys you'd fought. You definitely didn't have four near death experiences because of them!

Well you did, but they were completely your fault and not at the hands of a couple of phony villains. They happened before you got used to your powers and gone through extensive training.

It seemed like a curse at first, but now you take them with stride. Your super strength foreign as you'd broke nearly everything in your apartment (that hadn't been a fun thing to explain to your Aunt and Uncle when they came home to a trashed place). Sticky hands well...getting stuck to literally everything. The amount of money you spent replacing your clothes after accidentally ripping up your whole closet only trying to get ready for school...that was also not fun explaining to your guardians.

And the webs. Oh boy. You didn't want to think about it. The hole in your wrist that shot out webs like a proper spider freaked you out the most. You nearly turned yourself in to the government after that one. It was something that took the most mental work to control, the weird hole (yuck) closing up when you didn't need it.

The one thing you did appreciate immediately was the abs. Yeah, those were nice to wake up to one morning.

Today was just another day in your life. A simple mission happening in the middle of the city. Actually it was a pretty unusual mission, it wasn't the regular Ice Family or Joker cult you were fighting...but a Rhino. Seemingly a man in a Rhino cosplay. And his henchmen? Definitely not something you see everyday, but you have seen weirder.

Speaking of his henchmen...there was a lot of them. Enough to keep each member of the team occupied. They had insanely advanced weaponry, surprisingly keeping the fight going for a while.

You hadn't realized so many of the guys were on you now, all surrounding you and trying to shoot at you with guns that weren't spitting out regular bullets.

You look to your side and see your best friend (he doesn't think so but that's what you tell everyone so deal with it sucker). Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, Roy Harper under the mask, and Pain in the Ass (a nickname you'd affectionately given him) to you.

You were in a compromising position, one that you could easily get yourself out of. But now you've spotted an unoccupied Roy and you wanted to have a little fun admist the chaos.

"Hey pain in my ass! A little help here!" The men were now taking shots with their fists, all failing to land their hits of course. And your best friend had completely ignored you.

"Hellooooo you know I'm talking to you!"

"I told you I wouldn't answer when you called me that. And I thought I made myself very clear." Definitely referring to the embarrassing way he took you down in front of the team after harassing him all week with the nickname a month ago.

"Well you answered right now soo...."

An arrow suddenly flew right past you, nearly grazing your cheek. A couple more followed.

"Um hello?! You nearly took me out!"

"That's my way of saying cut it out while saving your ass. And don't your spidey senses detect that kind of stuff? Danger and threats? You should've seen them coming."

"Huh. Guess you aren't as threatening as you think you are. At least not with that silly little hat on."

He simply glared at you. He was definitely going to kick your ass later. (Again).

With your guys dealt with, you turned to watch as Flash and Kid Flash emptied out a school bus on the road. Well, watched was a strong word. The job was done before you could fully process what was happening.

And suddenly that same school bus was being throw your way by the Rhino-man. Directly above your head actually.

Uh oh.

CRASH!

This was the third time that's happened to you this week!

He had good aim, you'll admit. It landed on you perfectly, but thanks to your incredible strength he seemingly didn't know about (how could he not? You're literally the Spider-Person from tv! Spider-Person...pfft what a stupid name. No one seemed to come up with something better), the biggest indicator to this being his shocked face. Oh how you loved that look. You threw it right back at him. Jokes on Rhino-man, you also had incredible aim.

"It's gonna take a lot more than a school bus to take me out!" Although you could feel the nearly broken rib and bruises you'd need to get checked out before you went home today.

You sighed happily, dusting your hands, "light work to me. Maybe try one of those city buses next time? Might be heavier and more effective-"

The words barely left your mouth before a city bus was being throw at you, "Wait I didn't actually mean it!" You caught the bus this time. And although your senses knew the danger was coming, it was still a bus that caught you off guard with its weight. Your legs and arms quivered at the force of having to hold it up, you could feel every bruise spotted on your body with the strain and it was not fun. While your body healed faster than the average human, it definitely wasn't fast enough to recover from the previous hit.

The back of the bus was fully tipped to the sky. You prayed there was no one in this thing. And sure you were strong, but there was no way you could tip it back on its wheels without potentially hurting someone.

Luckily Superman helped you with that, seeing you struggle. He easily took it off your hands (show off) and maneuvered it so it was placed safely back on the road.

"Thanks Supes!" He gave a nod and his famous smile.

It was only a couple more minutes of fighting and cars being thrown around before the whole thing was wrapped up. The adults would give their words to the police and news reporters, blah blah blah...

While they did that, you and your best friends, the teens (the cooler ones) got together like you always did after a mission.

Superman is being interviewed by the infamous Lois Lane (the talk of the teen team, there was definitely tension there).

All while Wally stands a little behind them making faces and ridiculous poses for the camera. The rest of you stood out of shot either cackling or rolling your eyes.

Wally steps back, clearly offended. "What? All he's doing is flirting with her in front of a live audience. Remember what they said last time? No one's gonna be paying attention to me."

Robin snickers, "What? The whole 'no one can take Superman' 'but you sure can'?" He repeats their words in poorly done impressions.

"That was totally an innuendo!"

"Very mature KF."

"Hey! Robin and Spider laughed with me. And I saw Speedy’s smirk, he sat there trying to pretend he didn't find it funny. Maybe you should get that stick out of your ass, Aqualad?"

Roy, completely serious, replies, "Now that's no way to talk to the adults' favorite."

You perk up, "oh, me?"

Your friends immediately explode into disagreement, apparently in disbelief you'd think such a thing.

It was a simple story, how it all came to be. You got bit by a spider (totally cool about it).

Totally didn't scream your ass off because of it and stay paranoid the rest of the day, constantly thinking there was a creepy crawler on you...no. You found out the next day that you weren't actually paranoid—if you were in the first place, which you were not! Because apparently the spider had camped out in your clothes all day and night...

You totally didn't scream your ass off again that morning at the revelation.

You did scream at the sight of abs on your body that same morning though. And that's the only reason you'll ever thank the spider, forget the cool powers.

After that you thought it would be cool to use your powers for good, inspired by your uncle. You decided to have your own cool hero costume, symbol, and name (which you still haven't gotten. You originally thought of the Human Spider. People on the streets called it dumb, claiming they would not be calling you that). You had (unfortunately) been (TEMPORARILY!) named the Spider-Person. Which was insanely stupid and you needed to come up with something quick before it stuck completely. Maybe the Human Spider wasn't so good but it wasn't as bad as your unofficial name now!

Anyways, as for the cool hero costume. You had to use what you had at the time, which was...your normal clothes. Getting a costume online seemed cheap, and dressing up as an existing character in the media and saving people seemed wrong. It would only deny your identity as a hero. So you put on whatever clothes (mostly colorful pajamas) that you had, covered the bottom half of your face with a bandanna, and called it a night. And boy did that get you a lot of ridicule, but you got the job done, right? The only thing it didn't do was protect your body from scrapes and...stab wounds. You hated little knives.

You're not the smartest in the world and it's not like you had the money someone like Bruce Wayne could pull out of their ass and make cool superhero wear.

Once you were recruited by Batman, he gave you your own hero costume—no, suit. Every suggestion you made was followed. It was perfect. The mask had to be your favorite part though. Something you didn't suggest was the some type of magic on it, something called hammerspace. Basically you could have any type of hair, or ears...probably even a pair of headphones on your head and it won't show through. It'll seemingly disappear to this hammerspace (you weren't sure how it worked exactly, but it works nonetheless so you won't question it). The magic was done by a team member who was needed very rarely named Zatara. Another man with a silly hat on his head.

You attempted to try it with Batman to see if his bat ears would disappear (which was completely encouraged by Robin by the way. No- completely his idea!) He was not happy. (You got benched for a month...no patrols, no missions...and Robin got off scott-free! How was that fair?!)

Wally starts to bring up your part of the fight, specifically the bus incident.

"Hey isn't that the third time that's happened to you this week?"

You sigh, exasperated and playing it up, "yes."

Robin butts in before you could say anything more, "Couldn't you have caught them? Y'know with your spidey senses and incredible strength?" He has the nastiest smirk on his face. His smartass totally figured you out.

"Well yeah, duh. But it's fun seeing the looks on the bad guys' faces when they realize I'm not dead and I can carry a however many pound bus! Is that so bad?"

"No but it's embarrassing for us."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, our best friend who's powers include crazy senses that gives them insane reflexes? That best friend can't catch a big, yellow bus being thrown at them? Embarrassing." The one time Roy will take the claim as your best friend is when he's insulting you? Unsurprising.

Kaldur cut in, sensing your defense a mile away, "It is pretty shameful of you."

Your jaw dropped, even Kaldur of all of people was agreeing? Oh this is insane!

You point a figure at your friends, trying to get your threat across, "Well I find that incredibly offensive and you should all take that back before I-"

"Isn't the point of your powers to detect danger before it comes? How come that's the third time this week you've been hit by a school bus? It's embarrassing, Spider." Batman's monotone voice made his words all the more insulting. Your frown deepened.

You sigh, "Yup. Real embarrassing for me. I got that."

"No, embarrassing for me. I've got a reputation to keep up."

He walks away without another word.

"I can't tell if he was trying to joke around like you guys were, but I'm still offended."

"He was being dead serious. And for the record, so were we."

I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic. I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics…??

[playstation-dreamcast]

Hi, I'm like drowning in Resident Evil brainrot, so like:

Have Some Random Headcanons About Resident Evil Men~

I can't explain most of these, we're just going purely based on vibes. We're serving Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Leon Kennedy, and Carlos Oliviera. Kinda X Reader? Idk bro

ALBERT WESKER:

Starting off Strong and controversial with this one. I think Wesker has a major sweet tooth. I think he likes creamer with a dash of coffee, and keeps hard candy in his desk. My man was deprived of sweets as a kid, now that he can have em he's kinda obsessed

I also think he gets frequent headaches. He tends to just "push through" them until they evolve into full on migraines, and even then he keeps going until he physically can't

I think he likes to pebble. He leaves small gifts at your desk and when you ask him about it he acts completely oblivious. But, ya both know

I think he's a major David Bowie fan. I think The Man Who Sold The World is his all time favorite song, and I also think the irony about that is lost on him

I think he's PDA adverse and incredibly touchstarved. This weird dichotomy has led to him being honestly really cold in public, and a straight up velcro boyfriend in private

I think secretly, deep deep down, he wants a family. He wants to build thr family he never had and get a taste of the domesticity he has been locked out of since birth.

That being said, he's never gonna do that shit. He's a busy man, with ambitions far greater than the suburbs. There's no room for white picket fences in his future. But, they'll always have a spot in his daydreams

His love language is words of affirmation. Both giving and receiving

He sleeps light as hell. A spider skittering just a little too fast could wake him up. Not just wake him up, but jolt him fully awake and in fight mode. He's a man with far too many enemies to get a deep sleep

He has himself convinced that he only keeps you around for "creature comforts" if you catch my drift. And he makes that clear, he's not trying to lead anyone on. That being said, literally every single one of his worst nightmares are about losing you. And he keeps you close as often as he can. And you're the only person other than him thats spent the night in his bed! But, ya know, it's casual

He's never been casual about anything in his entire god damn life

I think that he's panromantic, but more on the gray ace/demisexual side of things when it comes to all of that. Sex is far far to vulnerable for him to do with just anyone, he's gotta trust you to get naked in front of you babes

CHRIS REDFIELD:

Okay so I feel like when we talk about Chris, we tend to forget the les paul that he had just chillin' at work

That being said, I think Chris was in a band when he was in highschool. And they were not NEARLY as good as they thought they were. Three Arm Sally didn't go anywhere for good reason

I also think he was a running back in highschool, but that's not what we're talking about right now

I think Chris would make you mix tapes to show he cares. And once mix tapes died, he started making you playlist. He's not the most in touch with his emotions, this is part of how he understands them

I think while he used to genuinely be a really good guitar player- he's since fallen out of practice. He's not as good as he once was, but he'll still strum a little to try and calm himself down on particularly rough nights. 60% of the time it works 100% of the time

He has genuinely the worst caffeine addiction you've ever seen. It's damn near tragic dude. We're at the point where it might be better for his health for him to just pick up a coke habit. He's on his 4th monster and it's 9 am

That being said, he and his bed are currently not on speaking terms. Sleep? He doesn't know that bitch. This is how he avoids The Horrors™️

Chris is more of a cat guy than a dog guy and I'm tired of pretending like he's not. He appreciates how independent cats can be

I think Chris started smoking when he turned 16, but stopped around 2004 when he started hitting the gym seriously. He needed the lung capacity. That being said- he lit up a cigarette the moment the credits rolled after RE5. He picked that habit right back up

He will never ever say this out loud, but he loves to be held and to cuddle. Intimacy/emotional vulnerability (or, at least the safety to be emotionally vulnerable) is incredibly important to him with a long term partner. He's got a lot of soft parts still healing, he's gotta know you're going to take care of him if he takes off the armor protecting them

It's also incredibly important to him that any SO he has gets along with Claire. You don't have to be best friends or anything, but she's his only family- so she has to approve. Thankfully, Claire thinks you're a delight

Dispite what the memes may tell you, Chris has NO DESIRE to continue the Redfield bloodline. He can't bring himself to bring a child into a world so dark and unforgiving. And like, beyond that he's like- 67% sure that whatever gunk is going on in his head isn't just from trauma, and he's not risking passing that on to his offspring

LEON S KENNEDY:

He's a recovering Emo Kid before emo kids were even a thing. MCR is one of his favorite bands. He sings the line "Fuck Like A Kennedy!" With his entire chest when he's singing Na Na Na

Movie buff! His favorite movie is Fight Club, purely for the critique of how society conditions men to believe violence is the only way to show masculinity, and for the gay allegory. It is NOT because he wants to be Tyler Durden. Please, you have to understand, he knows the optics of liking this movie, but he's not like that he swears, PLEASE-

I think he's bisexual. Now, we all basically agree on that. But I also think he's incredibly suave and charismatic completely on accident. It all falls apart when he actually tries to flirt. Doesn't matter the gender, he's going to fumble the bag 70 percent of the time, and the other 30 are people who are there inspite of how awkward he is

He needs something to do with his hands, especially in important meetings. He's a chronic doodler as a result. You remember those girls in middle school who drew hyper realistic eyes instead of taking notes in their notebooks? He was one of them

My man is so, so jumpy. And by jumpy, I mean punchy. Make yourself known before you get too close. You have been warned

He struggles with communicating and emotions like the others, yes. But after the events of Vendetta he realized he was at rock bottom, and finally took Hunnigans advice and got some therapy. So, he's much more open and willing to talk about his feelings to try and figure them out. He ain't the best at it but by God he's trying

He's a bottle blonde. Argue with the wall about it, I know im right. You can reliably track his mental health by the state of his roots

I think he kept in contact with Ashley after the events of RE4. I think she slowly got over her crush on him, realizing that was probably more the suspension bridge effect than genuine attraction. And as such, they developed a sibling like bond that's very important to him

Leon is the most oblivious dude at the function. People have flirted with him just for him to completely miss it until hours later more times than he can count. Once at the club, a woman casually dropped to him that she was a sub. He asked her what subject she taught.

As such, he doesn't have much experience with long term relationships. At least not healthy ones. He's awkward, and he has more than a few red flags, but again- refer to point 6, he's in therapy babes. He's working on it- bear with him

Carlos Oliveira:

He likes to act like he's a "big scary manly man" but dude is a total softie. He's a walking teddy bear dude

He's the type of guy to randomly buy you flowers because they "reminded him of you." He's a romantic by nature

Now, he Can be charming and smooth. It's his natural state actually. He Chooses to be cheesy and lame. It's a way of life for him. He's doing this for pure love of the game

It's incredibly important to him that you can protect yourself. It's why he bought you this gun. And you can bet your ass he's going to show you how to use it

I know a gamer boy when I see one. We can smell our own. I think it's his favorite hobby. His favorite thing when he comes home is to sit you on his lap and have you guys play games together. Couch co-op, his beloved

I think he was raised Catholic. Again, we can smell our own. That being said, he definitely doesn't consider himself to be of the faith anymore. Though, he does still catch himself crossing himself from time to time

His guilty pleasure is Anime. That's right, you heard me, Carlos Oliveira is a huge fukin nerd! His toxic trait is being a "Goku bodies every fight" truther. God help him

He's had big dogs all his life, his home just doesn't feel like his home without one. Don't worry though reader, he's also incredibly talented when it comes to training them. They're not going to maul you unless he tells them too

The man absolutely "hates" reality TV. Hates it sooo much. He's just standing in the living room for no reason. No, it's not to watch the TV! Can a man not stand in his own livingroom?!...But uhh, anyways, so what's going on with Clara and her man?

His love language is of course quality time. He just wants to be near you. It doesn't matter if your quietly reading a book while he plays a game, as long as you're in the room with him, he’s happy

Well, uhhh anyways. All that being said, if you liked these, requests are open!!