delusioncorner

[delusioncorner]

Knock at the Window

(Spider-Man x Reader)(T)

Whilst studying for a big final exam, you hear a knock coming from your bedroom window...which is weird because you live on the 5th floor of an apartment building. Who on earth could that be?

(This is kind of long and maybe a bit shit but I wrote it because I lowkey miss school)

-

The words begin to blur for the seventh time since I've started the tedious- and albeit very stupid- task of pulling an all-nighter for the exam I have tomorrow morning at exactly 7:30 in the morning. Hard, heavy blinks start to plague my eyes and I thought very briefly that I was going to lose this battle that I was fighting with my sleep. I sigh and close my eyes tight, taking deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

When I open my eyes again I look towards the clock hanging on my wall and feel a sense of dread crawl up my spine. 3:45am. Another sigh escapes my lips and my heart begins to race. It's almost 4 in the morning, my exam- that my entire career depends on- is in 3 and a half hours, and I've barely read through half the notes I've taken in preparation for this goddamned test. My eyes start to well with tears and a sense of helplessness fills me rapidly. I've just been so busy the past couple of days with work, school, and my internship at Alchemex. Everything I do combines into one long event that starts at 6am and ends at about 9pm and the times I do have a small break I spend it with Peter. I know I should be focusing on my studies especially with the end of the year staring me right in the face and the promise of grad school welcoming me with its new and exciting embrace but I can't help it.

Peter Parker is in the Bio-Chemistry class I'm taking this semester- the class that I'm attempting to study for at the moment. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met and the depth in which he understands such complex theories will always astound me. I could have been studying with Peter and I honestly should have since he is quite the talented student but I can't focus on anything but him when he's around. It's quite the hopeless predicament I've found myself in. I'd like to think he shares the same feelings for me as I do him but every time I think something is about to happen between us he has to leave. It's happened too often for it to be a coincidence.

Today was a perfect example of that very thing happening. Peter and I were walking through the campus courtyard from our shared class, side-by-side, our hands brushing as we admired the cherry blossoms with their maroon-colored leaves. We talked aimlessly for what seemed like hours but were in reality only a few minutes before we reached the the grand fountain located in the middle of the school. We sat there and spoke, getting closer to one another as the minutes passed, until our hands overlapped. He said something that made me laugh and after I had settled our eyes locked and I felt my upper body leaning toward him like we were magnets, destined to connect. I looked at him through my lashes and tilted my head. I needed to feel his lips against mine. I needed us to feel one another. I needed him to need me just as much as I needed him. Just as our lips almost met...his phone went off and he was gone, running away frantically almost like he was awakened from a trance. I had no choice but to watch him leave.

I texted him before I started my slow descent into madness and I've still yet to receive a text back. I feel sick to my stomach. Recounting that memory combined with my sleep deprivation has turned my stomach in a way I hadn't been expecting. Standing, I carefully stretch and drink a bit of water because I am not about to throw up at- I glance over at the clock again- 4 in the morning.

Great. I managed to kill 15 minutes drooling over Peter. Could I get any more paths-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I still. Was it my door? It couldn't be. My roommates are all sleeping. Walking over to my door, I open it anyway. Greeted with nothing, I turn to retreat into my room and before I get the chance to close my door I hear another sound.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

The tapping transitioned into harder, heavier knocks. They sound frantic. I know it's not my door this time so I turn to my window. My curtain-shrouded, no-fire-escape-having, 5th-story window.

"Dude, there's literally no way that knocking is coming from my window right now."

A gruff, strained, and slightly muffled voice comes from right outside the window. "Please. Please open the window." It's a man. I hesitate briefly but decide that if someone is truly outside my window right now, then it must be someone...interesting and I've always been a curious person. I close my door and saunter towards my window. Dread is filling me once again but I punch it down. I'll just take a small peek and if it's like the Green Goblin or some other nefarious ne'er-do-weller then I'll simply accept my fate and die.

...Yeah. Yeah, that's what my options are. I either die or...some other second option. Hopefully, option number two is better than death. So, which will it be?'

I reach the window and slightly move the curtain to reveal Spider-Man. The Spider-Man. Even though I couldn't see his entire body I saw enough. I saw his bright red and blue suit. I saw one of his gloved hands and I saw a sliver of his other hand clutching his side. His back was against the wall of my building, almost as if he were glued to it. Spider-Man is a good man. He helps the city and he totally fought some giant dude dressed as a rhinoceros last week who threatened to do something dastardly to the town so I think I would be okay if I let him in. Plus, it seems like he's injured and I'm not a monster. I glance at the clock once more- it reads 4:10- before I rip open my window.

As quickly as I open the window, Spider-Man is through it, and closing the window behind him with just as much speed, then he slunks against my wall in a boneless heap. His breaths are heavy and small helpless whines escape his mask-shrouded lips. I tell him that I'll be back and swiftly leave my room, closing the door behind me, and running down the hallway to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. When I return, Spider-Man is away from the window and slumped over in my desk chair.

"Thanks for letting me in. Also sorry for getting blood on your rug maybe? I don't know actually, I didn't really pay attention." He's rambling. He's distracting himself from the pain, I can tell. He continues, "You really just went right to work, didn't you? No 'Hi' or 'Woah! Spider-Man? What a silly thing that's happening right now,' you just up and got a...first aid kit? Thanks but I'm okay. It's just a flesh wound."

"You're bleeding a lot. One could even use the word profusely. I don't know what kind of weird business you have going on but I can just...I don't know? Stitch you up? My mom was a nurse and she taught me a few basics on how to fix up small wounds." I open the first aid kit as I babble on. The room is beginning to smell like iron and I feel lightheaded. He begrudgingly agrees after I beg him to let me help and I thank him. He lets me gently lift the top of his suit and I get to it. I feel sick and as he hisses in pain as the needle digs into his skin, I can't help but also feel sorry for the pain I'm causing him.

He goes on to comfort me as I finish stitching him. He keeps up a nice banter with me, making jokes and asking me other questions about my hobbies, and soon enough I'm tying up the last stitch and taping a bandage over the wound. I take a deep breath and ask him if he's hurt anywhere else. He says no but I still do a quick check. I cannot be responsible for the demise of New York's favorite web-slinger all because I was reckless. I didn't realize it but I said that part out loud. He started to laugh. His low laugh turned into a loud booming fit of hysterics and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips.

He seems so familiar but I can't pinpoint it. I'm so comfortable with this man that I've just met. I blame it on the fact that he's a well-known vigilante who helps others but the whole time we were talking, I couldn't help but compare him to Peter. Their mannerisms and humor are so similar that it seems like they could be the same people but that's such a far-fetched theory that I swept it from my mind as quickly as it entered.

More minutes passed and I accepted the fact that I'd probably fail this test. Maybe, if I play my cards right, I could convince my professor to let me take it again? Say I developed nasty stomach flu or maybe I'll say my mother is in the hospital. He doesn't know she's dead so no harm no foul. Spider-Man and I discuss everything from star signs to the best delis in the area. Our tones get softer and I feel a wave of calm wash over me for the first time in 3 days. A yawn escapes my lips and I accept defeat. I'll email my professor when I wake up. Hopefully, he's understanding.

Spider-Man also seems to have reached his limits. He stands and stretches his arms over his head, groaning obnoxiously in the same way Peter does. Spider-Man thanks me for my help and for the conversation but mentions how he has something to do soon and should probably leave. I don't want him to leave. I find myself wanting to keep him. A courage that I am unfamiliar with strikes my body and suddenly I'm reaching for his mask. I rest my hands on his cheeks as a silent question. Can I? He nods slowly and suddenly there I am, in the middle of my bedroom at who-knows-when, peeling the bottom part of his mask up, stopping just below his nose. I sway forward and all at once, we're kissing.

It's brief, almost as if it was a thank you. A thank you to him for helping me relax in my state of study-induced panic and maybe a thank you from him for helping him? For showing him kindness? Whatever the thanks was for didn't matter, so long as I felt it. When we parted, he pulled his mask down and walked towards the window, opening it, and preparing to disappear into the night. I spoke up one last time.

" Why did you come to my window? Seems pretty random, no?"

He simply looks over his shoulder and says, "Because I knew you'd open the window." And just like that he's gone and I'm left to ponder.

He knew I'd open the window?

[delusioncorner]

Gasp, Imposter!

Nightwing x Reader (T)

[Y/n] is a newer Bludhaven-based vigilante who has been steadily gaining the trust of a certain blue and black bird-themed masked hero. after he goes MIA for a week, he returns looking....slightly different.

-

I sit atop a building, listening to my completely-normal-totally-not-altered radio for any reported crime. It's weird resorting back to this odd secretive and secluded way of patroling but ever since Nightwing up and disappeared last Monday, I have no choice. He was slowly becoming my patrolling partner as much as he swore up and down that he "didn't want me around" and how I was "such a nuisance seriously go bother someone else" but he's a real softy under that dumb spandex exterior. He even gave me a special in-ear a couple of weeks ago just so he could talk to me, even if we were only several blocks away, checking in to make sure I was fairing well and even calling me if he needed help. He's gone though. Where? I don't know but god, hopefully he's okay.

A crackling through the radio snaps me out of my Nightwing-centered trance. I turn it up a little so I can hear the voices better.

...I have reports of a 211 on Red Line South. Backup requested immediately.

The dispatcher sounds a little worried. Maybe a bit too worried for a supposed robbery in progress. Jumping to my feet, I decided that the edge in her voice is enough of a reason for me to go check that out. I shake the nerves off for what feels like the 80th time that week and remind myself that this is not my first rodeo and it will not be the last. I do some stretching, sharing away any nerves. Welcoming that familiar light buzz that fills me every time I know I'm gonna kick some ass and help someone in this shitty town. I take a final deep breath. And I jump. Grappling from building to building. Flying and dipping through the air. As I soar through the sky I can't help but let out a cry of excitement and anticipation. I love this part of my night.

It's when I'm about halfway to Red Line that I see him. Nightwing, just a few buildings over running and jumping in the same direction as me. Does he see me? Does he know I've been worried sick about him for days? Unable to sleep because I had no idea what had happened to him? I go to yell his name but he plummets into an alley before my mouth gets a chance to form the "n". Landing on a fire escape, I wonder if I should go find him and tell him how sick I've been. How I've missed his stupid voice.

"Put the weapon away now!" A loud booming voice shouts, shaking me to my core. He sounds rough and gritty and one would think he was the criminal in question with a dangerous voice like that. Looking down I see Nightwing with his escrima sticks wielded and realize that I was once again a victim to my own thought and while I was pining over him he managed to sprint 2 blocks over to where I am now. I make a move to jump down but that's when I notice something really interesting. He's grown at least like 4 inches? Right? I mean he is looming over that robber- who, upon further examination, did in fact shoot that cop that was on the scene- but the robber couldn't be any taller than me....

I stay at my place on the fire escape and watch as this Nightwing skillfully disarms the menace while causing minimal damage to the man whose name is Doug because of course, returns the bag to the woman who was cowering around the corner, and checks on and stays with the cop lying on the side of the alley until his backup finally shows up 45 minutes later. The whole time I'm watching this I'm taking mental notes. His mannerisms are much stiffer and strict, he's not making his signature quips, and he definitely didn't do some sort of dumb flip while he was fighting that man which he almost always seems to do. When the backup arrives I make my escape to the top of the building. I had nothing to do with that altercation- even though I siked myself up and prepared for the fight of a lifetime with Doug the burglar- so there's really no reason for me to deal with any sort of cops tonight. I sit on the roof thinking about all the differences I spotted while observing Nightwing tonight and I decide that there's 100% something going on with him. Maybe he's ill? No, that can't be it he would've just stayed home, no? Well then maybe he's decided to turn a newer, more serious leaf? Noooo I don't think that's it either he really loves sassily fighting crime. Maybe he's brainwashed? But then why would he still be actively saving people? Wouldn't the brainwashers want him to go underground or something? I really don't think they'd-

"Who are you and why were you watching me?" The man parading as Nightwing snarls. God damn you, brain. I turn around to look for him. I don't see him at first But I know he's up here somewhere. That's when I saw him. A figure in the shadow. Hes big. Bigger than Nightwing that's for sure. Even though he's standing several feet away you can tell that this man is built like a brick house.

"Who are you and why are you pretending to be Nightwing?"

He's silent. Then he says, "I asked you first."

"Yeah okay, that's really mature. I'm Vulpine. You're impersonating my friend and I want to know why. Now you," I tilt my head up to show him I'm not fucking around.

"I'm a friend of Nightwing's. He's going to be out of town for a while but he wanted me to come here and make sure the city is doing fine." The man says this in a curt tone that makes it clear that he isn't going to answer any more questions I ask.

Tsk.

"And you had to dress like him?" Even though I can't see his face I just know he's staring at me.

"I had to make sure I didn't raise any eyebrows." He is very rapidly getting tired of me already. It makes me giddy.

"Hate to break it to you, dude, but little 5-foot-8-biult-like-a-dancer Nightwing is now.... what are you like 6 feet tall? He's somehow grown 4 whole inches in the past week and he's magically built like a freight train? Yeah fucking right. It would've been better if you just showed up in whatever you wear normally. Something akin to a bat, mayhaps?"

"You can't just say 'mayhaps'-"

"I can."

"No. You can't. Listen, I don't know what you know but it's clearly too much. I will be having a discussion with Nightwing about this as soon as possible. If I find out you were lying for even a second, I will find you." He steps out of the shadow he is under to deliver that last line. He's dramatic. I like him.

"Yeah, alright. When you talk to him tell him I miss him. Okay?" I give "Nightwing" a lopsided smile and decide that maybe tonight is not a patrol night. I salute the man and turn, jumping from the roof and grappling away. As I swing toward my house I can only hope that Batman- because that was clearly Batman- relays my message to the real Nightwing.

-

My first fic on here omg! This was loosely based on the newest edition of the Nightwing comic where Bruce dresses up as Nightwing and watches over Bludhaven for him. I thought It would be funny to write because clearly Bruce is built very differently from Dick and I just think it would be SOOOO obvious to others that it wasn't their typical Nightwing. It's not technically a Nightwing/ Reader fic buuuutttttttt it's like implied maybe. Like if you squint there's a small bit of chemistry and a lot of pining. Maybe I'll make another part.