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messylustt · 10 months

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can i pls request a small fic where reader is from earth 1218 and miguel has to hide at thier house for a bit to get away? cos he dosent wanna be in a universe where he exsists, you he randomly chooses your house? doesn't have to be exactly like that but 1218 reader pls 🙏🙏

i love this. makes me feel like it could happen to me jwjidkskkkwks (i’m delusional ik. it’s okay) — also I feel like this needs a part two…

╰┈➤ ꒰ 💿 ┊bon bons ꒱

thunderstorm — miguel o’hara + reader ( spiderverse ) : miguel finds his way into your home, your universe. 1816, where no superheroes exist.

contents : kinda suggestive. suspense?? wc 3.0k. check out my spiderverse m.list

you didn’t have much planned for the day. nothing of importance. all that was required of you was to make sure you didn’t leave your sheets out on the clothes horse before the rain came.

apparently a thunderstorm. though the weather information usually stated extremes. no harm in being careful, you guess.

so, when the day got later you ventured outside, lifting on your tiptoes to remove the pegs. throwing the sheets in a basket you felt a very light drop hit your hair. looking up to the sky you could see the grey clouds slowly covering the already setting sun.

with one arm hooked around the basket, you locked the door and made your way down to the basement—to place the pegs back in their designated smaller basket. as you do, you try multiple times in flicking the switch, until it finally turns on.

you jump down the last step, throwing the pegs and moving to retrace your steps when the lights flicker off. “really…?” you quietly mutter to yourself, squinting your eyes against the darkness as you slowly tried for the steep stairs.

with only a slight misstep you reach the light switch again. flicking up down, up down, up down. and…the powers out.

luckily the sun was still barely visible when you walked back through your hallway, letting you see where you were going. you had planned to check the tv for weather news or maybe your phone. but both annoyingly won’t work. you guess that’s indication enough that the storm is almost here.

and surely so, the wind begins to howl as you stare out the window, checking that they are locked tight, as you fiddle with a lighter and a box of candles.

and just as you set up the last candle in your kitchen a noise stops your hands movements. looking to your left—down the hallway—you squint. it’s probably the storm. because the rain had begun to sound like hail on your roof.

and then just as you go for food in the fridge you hear that same noise. you can’t really make out what type of noise it is, just that it’s loud enough to run right through your entire home. you finally step out of your kitchen, walking down the hallway.

you begin to slightly smile to yourself. because this all feels too much like that horror movie you watched the other day. you stop at your front door, looking out through the key hole, and checking the lock as you slide the chain.

the house shook, as you gaze around, before your eyes widen. “shit—“ you mutter, quickly racing up your stairs to reach the bathroom. you had left the window open to help with the condensation.

and just as you began to make your way back down the steps something dark walks across your hallway. you freeze. what was that? you didn’t want to know, now your mind whirring, as you stay midway from taking the next step.

it was just…a shadow…of a tree…yeah. for some reason that got your body moving again, you don’t really know why, because a shadow that dark isn’t just some reflection.

you swiftly peek your head round the corner of your hallway, eyeing your dimly lit house. could an animal have gotten in? usually in a storm animals look for shelter. that’s why when you went upstairs to your bathroom you saw a friendly spider by your sink.

now in the kitchen you sigh, seeing no animal or anything similar. you open the fridge, scanning for food. but that’s when you hear a creak.

whipping around, your breathing caught, your gaze stops on a slowly turning figure. you’re frozen, the fridge light probably displaying your expression rather well. and then you catch this…thing’s face. at first he looked like a man.

until you saw his red, almost glowing eyes, and fangs that glinted in the dim candle light. now you’ve found your voice, while simultaneously finding food, as all you can think to do is hurl it at the figure.

“what are—how—huh??!” you’re now skirting past the kitchen island as the man-thing watches you. your hand finds a salt shaker and as you aim to throw it at his head, his hand swiftly flies up, catching it far too fluidly.

you’re breathing heavy as your eyes now physically hurt from staying so wide. he inspects the salt shaker, before placing it on the kitchen island. he has claws…

“am i going insane…?” you whisper to yourself. because that’s what crazy people do right? whisper to themselves. “yeah…you’re not…real.”

you actually look back to him. your statement a…statement, but you guess part of you was wanting some sort of confirmation.

he tilts his head, eyeing you. “it’s like you’ve never seen a spider-person before.” he finally speaks.

you blink, still pressed against the kitchen counter as if that will serve you some form of protection. in your mind it does. “what?”

he flexes his claws, as you now notice a mask in his grasp. “…are you a robber?” mask equaled robber, in your mind.

he raises a brow, looking throughly unimpressed. He has ventured a fraction closer, now more in the light, and now more visible to you. you’re slightly taken aback. because even though it looks as though he does have red eyes and fangs. he doesn’t look…horrid.

“is that really what i look like?” he asks, as you now notice his wet hair, curling around his face and a certain suit that you swear you’ve seen before.

“no.” you say slowly. “you look like a…vampire.” you could actually laugh if you weren’t so terrified. “are those contacts?”

yes, you’re still in disbelief, and denial. The man narrows his eyes, then glances out the window. you watch him carefully, your hand moving to grab something behind you.

“don’t throw that.” he holds up his hand, still looking out the window.

you stop midway from grabbing an orange as you continue to stare. “what are doing in my house?” you finally ask the essential question. whatever he is he’s still broken in.

then your brows furrow, because you didn’t hear glass smashing…you don’t think. “how even did you get in? i swear i locked everything…”

he looks back to you. “i have my ways.”

“that’s…descriptive.” you mutter more so to yourself. “are you…like a cosplayer or something?” because you swear you’ve seen his suit before.

he eyes you. “what universe is this?”

“universe?” you blink a shit tonne of times. because what?

he seems to be thinking as he gazes around, before some sort of realisation hits him. “1218.”

“12 what?” you’re utterly confused, as you scrunch your nose, pressing your fingers to your temples. Your brain was starting to hurt. but then he was moving closer.

you hold your hand out, suddenly becoming more alert. “don’t—“ you say firmly, but then his head is swiftly turning in the direction of your front door. and then he’s right in front of you making you jump, your eyeballs threatening to fall out. “what—“

“shh.” he says, placing his hand over your mouth, as his body pushes you further against the counter and into the corner—where your cupboard creates a blindspot.

you go to at least try and say something, your heart beating on overdrive, but then you hear gruff voices and a loud noise that resembled the breaking of wood, and smashing of glass. you go real quiet after that, trying to see past this large man.

miguel can feel your body still. obviously still tense, but you aren’t shoving him off you. he keeps his hand over your mouth, his breath now hitting your eyelashes.

you stay still. because this man in front of you didn’t have a weapon—from what you know—and his heaving chest and darting eyes are showing you he doesn’t like your new visitors either. then you make eye contact, and you hate to say that you aren’t repulsed by his blood red eyes.

miguel slowly removes his hands, making a ‘silence’ motion with his finger, to which you gulp and close your mouth. miguel can hear the approaching footsteps, and the crunch of glass under their feet.

then his breath is by your ear. “is there somewhere we can hide?” his words tickle your neck, making you shiver.

“uh…there’s…” you try and think. because where the hell can you hide?

“take your time.” he whisper-comments. but you ignore his sarcasm as you meet his gaze, hearing the further approaching men. “the attic.”

miguel tilts his head to the side, silently asking you to show him. but you hesitate. alone. in the attic. with this…stranger. miguel seems to catch onto your swaying mind, as he leans back closer to your ear. “i’m not gonna hurt you, if that’s what your worried about. i have no use for that.”

no use for that? but you can’t dwell because the urgency is back in his voice. “but these guys will. so, if you don’t want a bullet in your head. move.”

and you do. because a bullet in the head doesn’t sound nice. and again—this guy didn’t a weapon. you shift past him, him having moved slightly out of the way.

you lead him—as silently as possible—down the hallway, which is now littered with glass, and your front door is busted open, letting the howling wind prickle your skin.

you turn left and then right, coming to a stop as you reach the long stick you use to hook around the retractable stairs. but miguel doesn’t want to waste time, as he takes the stick from you, while simultaneously hooking his claw around the metal loop and tugging.

you stare at him, seeming to realise just how tall he is. the stairs are soon down as you hear voices, much much closer. miguel grabs your shirt, yanking you towards him as he a practically lifts you onto the first few steps. you hold down your yelp, because right now that would cause a disaster.

scrabbling up you try to keep your feet light, as miguel moves, hot on your heels. then he’s pulling the stairs up in the nick of time, and it all seems to make you sweat, as you pull at your t-shirt, fanning yourself.

miguel stands, having slid the lock, part of his suit getting caught up with cobwebs.

“okay, what the fuck is going on?” you whisper-hiss, making miguel turn to you.

“it’s nothing personal.” he says, walking past you, to look out the small, circular window.

“thank god. but that really doesn’t explain anything.” you say, a mix of fear and adrenaline leading you to anger. “who are you? and who are they? at least answer me that.”

miguel looks back at you, sighing, as he takes in your flustered state. “maybe i should have left you down there.”

“is your name that top secret?” you keep fanning yourself as you scrunch your eyes together, trying to wrap your head around everything that had just happened.

“miguel.” he finally says, making you open your eyes.

“what?”

“my name…” he says, slightly stepping closer. “is miguel.”

“ah…” you say, but then your brows furrow. “is it real?”

miguel looks at you, pausing a moment. “my…name? you’re asking if my name is real?” he’s in slight disbelief, as his expression displays what looks to be distaste.

“well, i would have assumed you’d say some…hero name. you look like you jumped out of a comic book.” okay…you may be saying too much. but your mind is fried and you desperately needed answers. of any kind at this point.

“that’s flattering.” he states dryly.

“no seriously. why are you dressed like that?” you ask, eyeing him. you hated the fact that he didn’t look…bad.

“right…i keep forgetting you don’t a have a spider-person here.”

“what? like spider-man?” you force a chuckle. “yeah, you must be some sort of cosplayer.”

“whatever that is, i’m not. just…” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “how about let’s not talk?”

“no, no, i need answers.” you stepped closer. “if not about you, then about them.” you point to the floor.

miguel licks his teeth—or more accurately his fangs, making your gaze get caught up in the action as you gulp.

“all you need to know is that they’re bad men who like to kill.” miguel edged closer to you. “if you stay out of their way you might survive.” and then he’s brushing past you, crouching by the trap door as he pays close attention to the noises below.

your gaze follows him, as you move to crouch down beside him. miguel looks slightly up, watching you try to listen. miguel tilts his head in observation, as you visibly strain to catch any words.

“you can’t hear them.” he states bluntly. you look up. “then why did you look so intent as if you could hear them?” you ask, narrowing your eyes on him.

“because i can.” he simply answers, catching the intruders’ words again.

“wait…check that.” one of the guys are saying. “don’t most boring houses have those things called attics?”

miguel is then quick, because the little bolt locking you guys in isn’t gonna hold if they try to come up here. he grabs your arm, pulling you to stand, as you slightly jolt at the fast movement. all you had heard was muffled voices.

miguel pulls you closer as he scans the room, stopping on a nook that even he barely noticed, along with a mattress that he could slide over as coverage. before you could say a word, miguel’s hand has moved to your shirt, making it easier to move you with him.

“what’s going on—“

“shut up.” miguel whisper-hisses by your ear, pushing you towards the nook, as you both crouch down. miguel then webs the mattress tight against the wall, making it inhumanly possible to move it if you didn’t have the type of strength miguel had.

your eyes widen as you see the fading orange strings shoot out of his wrist, before he’s pulling you back to him. but with the harsh, unexpected pull, your foot slips.

miguel reacts quick, because if you fell, the thud would alert them of your hideout—“them” having now bashed through the trap door. your breathing hitches, as miguel moves, your head almost hitting the floor.

now you rest against the dirty ground, breathing erratic as miguel hovers over you, breathing equally as hard. his hand is holding the back of your head, as the other cages by your hip.

and you can’t move, because they’re already walking up into the attic. you sew your mouth shut, as you do your eyes, the slight scrunch of your features getting noticed by miguel. whose face is millimetres away, his breath tickling your heated skin.

“why am i even helping you…” he mutters so quietly you almost don’t catch it.

“i’d like to know that too.” you whisper just as quietly back. you slightly crack your eyes open, meeting his gaze. you press your lips together, at the close proximity. miguel’s eyes narrow. “don’t talk.”

“you talked first.” you reply, slightly lifting your head to his ear before placing your head back down. “and you can move your hand—“ because it was still placed under your head, but then miguel’s finger—or claw—was pressing firm against your lips, shushing you.

the footsteps were near, and you actually hold your breath. miguel slightly pushes down on your stomach, forcing you to breathe, as the warm air hits his finger—still pressed against your lip. then his breathe is by your ear. “it’d be a wasted effort if I didn’t keep you alive longer.”

your heart is beating in your chest, his practically right up against yours. and he doesn’t leave his spot by your neck, as his breathing tickles the hairs there. “mi…miguel.” you carefully whisper, and his hold on the back of your head tightens, his claws sinking into your hair.

“didn’t i say to be quiet?”

“then stop talking.” you mutter back. and miguel could actually laugh at you. because what position are you in to use that harsh tone. he grabs your cheeks with his hand that was placed by your hip, resulting in him being practically on top of you, making you tense.

he squeezes your cheeks so that your mouth was forced to open. “stop. talking.” he said slowly. and now you physically couldn’t with his claws pressed to your cheeks.

but then the footsteps grew very very close. right by the mattress. and both you and miguel turn your head. you then glance down because you felt a breeze across your ankle. your foot was in an easy view and you want to curse. because was that really going to be your undoing?

miguel notices your body’s movement and your almost frightened gaze. looking down, miguel clenched his jaw. his hand moved down your body, wrapping around your thigh, as he very slowly widened your legs.

your look is of harsh question when miguel meets your gaze. but he doesn’t stop, pulling your foot out of few, by spreading your leg to the side, resulting in him practically laying between them.

you rest your head back, clenching your jaw as you ignore anything and everything. then miguel is pulling your chin back to face him, as he listens to the men’s steps. “anything else I need to fix for you?” he whispers so quietly in your ear. you want to hit him, because this position makes you feels far too vulnerable.

but you can’t say a thing. you know you can’t. not until the men leave. you slightly shift, your hip bone pressed into the wood. miguel’s hand flies to grab your thigh again, holding you still. tou couldn’t do that. god, you really couldn’t do that.

he keeps his hand on your thigh now, spreading it even wider, making your breathing hitch as you force your lips to press together till it hurts.

how the hell did you go from organising your washing to being under a large man…vampire…thing, where you could feel everything? that’s an answer you’d love to know right about now.

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 years

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pls pls pls some karen page fluff i am begging 🙏

Thank you so much for this request! I've just started writing, and I felt so disheartened with the lack of engagement. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I really hope you like it.

Kisses and Cupcakes

Contains; Hints at smut, super fluff.

606 Words

You bake cupcakes for Franky Jr's birthday.

It was 10:00 AM on a Saturday, you and Karen had volunteered to bake for Frankie Jr's birthday party. Chocolate cupcakes with a chocolate filling and chocolate icing.

"Do you have everything?" Karen was helping you unpack all the supplies, she paused to look over everything on the table.

"You mean all the chocolate in the store?"

You giggled. "I remember that age, it's only fair that Frankie also gets to enjoy a world-ending sugar crash after spending the whole day stuffing his face with sweets."

"Frank and Maria are not going to be impressed that we're filling his request to the letter" Karen sounded amused more than worried."

"Then we'll do all the cleaning, there won't be a trace of chocolate anywhere."

"You want us to clean up after a whole group of ten years olds, and Billy!!!"

Poor Billy, for someone so put together, he went mad at birthday parties. You shudder at the memory of all the black paint on the floor after Lisa's space party. It took one stray flick and then it was on, paint was flying and sooner or later everyone was paralysed with laughter. It was a good memory.

"Don't forget the leave the butter out, I'm not spending ten minutes trying to soften it with a spoon."

You feigned a glare. "That was one time, it's not my fault New York is freezing half the year."

You had lasted till the cupcakes were in the oven when it started. Karen lifted a frosting coated finger to your lips with a sly smile on her face.

"Here" as you leaned in to try it, she swiped it over your nose.

You tried to act offended but you couldn't suppress the laughter long enough.

"Why are you so mean to me?" you were looking for a suitable payback when your eyes landed on the bowl of fudge.

She saw what was in your eye line and positioned herself to dash away from you.

"You really want to play it that was gorgeous?"

"Yep!" she took off, not really trying to get away but egging you on.

Fudge in hand, you chased after her, catching up to her as you rounded the corner. Reaching out, you managed to smear it on her cheek.

She let out a happy little shout and bent over in a fit of giggles, you couldn't help yourself from joining her but somewhere in the back of your mind you realised it was now your turn to be covered in something.

"Bleep beep", it snaped out both out of your fun.

"Cupcakes are done" You was struggling to get the words out over your giggles.

"This isn't done" she cocked her head at you in a mock threat.

You walked into the kitchen together and then handed Karen the oven mitts. The tray was placed on the benchtop, and a calm came over the room.

You were now standing very close, your noses almost touching.

"You know how much I love you right?'

Karen didn't respond right away, instead, she leaned in and gave a kitten lick to the tip of your nose.

"Of course I do, that doesn't change the fact that I will be paying you back for this" she gestured to her fudge covered cheek.

"What do you say once this is all done we take some of the leftover icing and continue this elsewhere?" The air had changed, the cupcakes were the last things on your mind right now.

"Yes please" Karen shook her head, you were always so willing to accept everything she suggested.

"Oh y/n, I love you too"

Thank you again for this request, I'm very appreciative of the motivation it's given me.

#karen page #daredevil #the punisher #billy russo #frank castle #maria castle #lisa castle #Frankie jr #karen page x reader #karen page imagine #karen page fanfic #punisher fluff

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