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urgonnaneedabiggership · 1 year

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Host of a Ghost

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.

Word count: 4.1K

Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3

PART II

“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.

It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.

“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice.

By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.

From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.

Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.

You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.

It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.

“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.

“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”

“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”

“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.

“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.

“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back.

“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”

So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.

It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.

She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.

However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”

You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.

“Your reflexes need polishing,”

“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.

“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”

“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”

“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”

“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”

You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.

That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.

Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.

Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.

He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.

He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.

Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.

“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”

You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing. Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.

It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.

The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.

“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”

“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.

However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.

You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.

“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”

“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.

“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.

When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.

“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.

“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”

“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.

“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.

“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”

That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?

“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.

“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”

“I said I would think about it, and I have.”

He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.

“And?”

“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”

That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.

“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”

Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.

“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”

He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.

“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”

“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.

“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.

He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…

“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”

“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.

“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.

“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.

While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.

Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.

And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.

When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.

“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?

With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.

“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.

“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”

The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.

“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.

And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.

“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”

Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.

“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”

“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”

“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”

“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”

With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.

Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.

“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.

“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.

“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.

Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.

“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?

With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.

Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.

“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”

Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.

Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.

“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.

“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”

This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.

“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”

“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.

“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.

“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”

Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.

“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”

“Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”

After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.

“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”

“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.

God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.

Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.

“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”

You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

Text

Helping you with homework.

Moon system x reader. - Headcanons.

Steven.

God bless Steven Grant's heart.

Although you didn't enjoy asking for help with things like this, you knew your boyfriend was the right person for your history assignment.

Unfortunately, remembering dates was your kryptonite.

"I'll explain it to you, okay?" He put on his glasses, and you sighed.

How were you supposed to concentrate when he looked like that?

You watched him go to his room and return with at least six different books in his arms.

And you pushed your chair so close that your shoulders touched.

It started well; you were understanding the timeline from prehistory to the Middle Ages.

However, you didn't take into account that once Steven started talking about his hyperfixations, he didn't stop.

By the second hour, you weren't sure if you were still retaining anything, so you did what your instinct dictated.

You hugged his arm, the one he wasn't using to underline sentences in his book, and your cheek rested against his shoulder.

Steven's heart raced, as it always did when you touched him spontaneously.

"Am I boring you already, love?" He kissed your hair, and shortly after, you felt the weight of his cheek against your head.

"Never," you simply said as the letters began to dance in front of your eyes.

The truth was that his voice relaxed you. Steven had a tendency to speak quickly, his accent resonating in your ears and warming you to your core, but when things got intimate, his voice seemed deeper.

He spoke slowly to make sure you didn't get lost in his words.

You yawned, and he noticed but didn't say anything. In fact, he kept talking.

And talking.

Until your eyelids grew heavy.

"And with that, we conclude the topic of feudalism." You had fallen asleep about 10 minutes ago, hugging Steven's arm and feeling his slow breath against your body.

He chuckled, a sound you didn't even register.

Steven didn't feel bad about it; he knew school was taking its toll on you, and that day you hadn't taken your usual daily nap.

He knew better than anyone that you needed rest.

And because he had once read that people feel sleepy when they're comfortable with someone.

He didn't mind having to continue your assignment by himself, doing everything possible not to move you from his shoulder.

And taking breaks now and then to place a hand on your forehead to keep you from falling forward when you nodded off.

The next day, you woke up in your bed, and Steven had already gone to work.

Under a note with a happy face drawn on it were the seven pages of your handwritten essay.

You ended the day with the highest grade in your group, several congratulations, and many embarrassed smiles that screamed, "I didn't even lift the pen off the desk all night."

Marc.

"I beg you." "No."

"Marc?" "No."

"Please?" "I said no."

You had been following him around the house for about 5 hours. Usually, you had no trouble completing your responsibilities from start to finish, but on days like today, you didn't even have the energy to turn on your laptop.

And Marc, of course, had already decided that there was no way he would help you with something like this.

In his school days, he didn't even do his own homework.

"Please, please, please." "I said no."

After begging for the 46th time, you finally gave up. The rest of the day passed just as boringly until dinner when you took the last sip of coffee from your cup.

"I'm not going to do it." After a week of constant sleep deprivation, you decided that you could afford to sleep for 8 hours just this once.

Marc looked at you in silence for a few seconds before nodding his head.

"Then let's go to sleep."

You obeyed, and you both went hand in hand to bed. Like every night, you felt him press you against his body with both arms.

The exhaustion in your body made you give in in less than 10 minutes.

But Marc couldn't sleep.

At 12:27 in the morning, he quietly got out of bed.

And at 01:53, you woke up. The fear of not feeling your daily companion almost made you cry like a little kid.

You got up to look for him, and it wasn't difficult at all. The light from your laptop illuminated the entire dining room.

And the sound of the keys echoed through the house.

"Marc?" "No," he replied again. Admitting such gestures was not his strong suit.

Still, he pushed the chair back to give you space, and you dragged your feet to sit on his lap.

You sat sideways, your head resting on his shoulder as the warmth of his body relaxed you from head to toe.

He kept typing.

You don't know how long you slept there, but a while later, you felt him carry you to bed.

And just a few hours later, your alarm went off, with Marc's arms crushing you against his chest, and your laptop patiently waiting in the dining room.

Jake.

Spanish was never your strong suit.

And you knew very well that Jake was the one who could help you, but once you asked him, you knew he wouldn't stop bothering you.

He, on the other hand, was an expert in both things: speaking fluent Spanish and teasing you.

"Jake?" "Yes, honey?" "Can I ask you something?"

And as you suspected, he didn't leave you alone all day.

"Could you pour me a glass of water?" "¿Perdón? No te escuché." (Sorry? I didn't hear you.)

You looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"¿Y bien?" (Well?)

"Un… vaso de… agua." (A glass of water.) "¿Por qué?" (Why?) "Por favor." (Please.)

You rolled your eyes for the 17th time that day.

And he kissed you for the 23rd time.

"¿Amor?" You looked up from your phone. "¿Cómo se llama esto?" (What's this called?) You watched him point to his fork.

You were 12 seconds away from murdering him with your own hands.

"Tú puedes." (You can do it.) He sounded like the host of a children's program. "Te…"

"Te…" You stared at him, waiting for more clues. "Neeee." "Dor."

Kiss number 27.

You won't deny that you didn't hit him multiple times and gave him full-body shoves since you needed all your strength to at least get him to move.

And he mocked you every time.

"I hate you." "No-oh. Intenta de nuevo." (Try again.) "¡Te odio!"

At least this time he made you laugh.

It turns out that all day you didn't get around to doing the study session you had planned for the day.

And you probably learned more than if you had done it.

Still, you cursed when you felt your boyfriend's hands on your shoulders as he approached you from behind.

You looked up, and he leaned down to your height, with that mischievous smile that seemed permanently etched on his face.

"What?" "Te amo." (I love you.)

You blushed.

"Te amo." you said back as you received a chaste kiss on your lips.

You had lost count.

"Eres el amor de mi vida." (You're the love of my life.) Another kiss. "Espero algún día encontrar las palabras para hacerte saber cuanto te amo." (I hope to someday find the words to let you know how much I love you.)

You stopped paying attention once his lips started brushing against yours as he spoke.

"Te amo." he repeated, placing another kiss on your lips.

And when you thought the day was over, he didn't miss the opportunity to test your patience once more.

"Goodnight, babe." "No te entendí." (I didn't understand you.)

In the darkness, you heard the thump you gave his chest.

"Buenas noches." You kissed his shoulder.

And yes, the next day, you let him enjoy his multiple "I told you so" moments when you passed the exam.

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breeistired · 2 months

Text

Rafe with autistic reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, innocent reader

Tropes: kookxpogue, sunshinexgrumpy

Summary: Reader is autistic.

Bree rants: Hi! So, I am only mildly autistic, so if I get any of this wrong I am deeply sorry. ALSO, if you're reading this, please help me work tumblr, I don't know how to make a taglist or boarders. Thank you- Also my askbox is always opened, so ask me random questions, I am always bored. Before I forget, I AM ADDING THIS TO ALL POSTS, AND IF I FORGET IT @brokenwingsgalore WILL PUT IT IN THE COMMENTS. IF YOU DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ IT!!! AND, if you want this to be a full oneshot, please tell me in the comments. I love you and enjoy reading!

(HOW DO I MAKE BOARDERS.)

Rafe! Who found you at his house in his party crying because everything was too loud.

Rafe! Who was about to yell at you but once he looked down, he felt soft and mushy.

Rafe! Who would continue to stare at you while you cry, not knowing what to do.

Rafe! Who finally speaks up and asks you if you need something. You shake your head no and he does not take that lightly. Instead grabbing you some water and sitting beside you.

Rafe! Who eventually finds out its because of how loud everything was and takes you up to his room. Topper whistles thinking Rafes getting lucky. Rafe tells him to shut up and you sit on his bed.

Rafe! Who would calm you down by dimming the lights and covering your ears. He thought this was childish but you seemed to have been calming down.

Rafe! Who would let go of your ears and ask you if you're okay.

Rafe! Who slowly finds out you suffer autism and your friend had brought you here to, "let loose." He would fight the urge to punch whoever that friend was.

Rafe! Who would yell at anybody who even talked near his room so you wouldn't have to panic anymore.

Rafe! Who would spend all night with you, letting you rant about your current hyperfixation just so you didn't have to pay attention to the loud party beneath you two.

Rafe! Who smiles at your little giggles and hand gestures. He hated when people would talk to him, but with you, everything you said sounded so luring. Even though you were talking about sharks.

Rafe! Who would drive you home and get your number.

Rafe! Who becomes obsessed with you after a week of getting to know you. Doing research on autism just so he could help you out like you helped him that night you met, he would've been fucking some girl he didn't like or smoke weed all night. Instead he found you.

Rafe! Who would ask you to be his girlfriend after two weeks.

Rafe! Who buys you anything you hyperfixate on. Legos? He's buying every set and listening you talk about the lego sets. Sharks? He'd buy you a mountain of plushies. Anything your autism liked for a few months or weeks, he would buy.

Rafe! Who never forced you to come to crowded places with. And if you do, he brings noise cancelling headphones or something for you to fidget with.

Rafe! Who practically almost murders anybody who says your too weird or something about your mental health.

Rafe! Who makes sure you eat all your meals, even if its krafts mac and cheese for the 5th time today.

Rafe! Who lets you sleep with him but gets annoyed when you have to put one of your shark plushies between you two. Though he would never tell you he was annoyed.

Rafe! Who ends up telling Barry random facts about the new movie you're obsessed with because that's all you talk about.

Rafe! Who loves you to death despite everything. He loves you and your hyperfixations. (maybe not the shark plushies though)

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stxrvel · 5 months

Text

i don't wanna live forever (5)

summary: the time had come to destroy HYDRA and collect for all that had been taken from them...

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: descriptions of: blood, wounds, fights and weapons. probably gonna wake a lot of sadness since the begining. mentiones of suicide thoughts. heartbreak. stubborn characters. mentions of character deaths (canon). remember i'm not that good at writing action scenes and that English is not my first language!

note: hi guys! i didn't rest today at work. instead, i wrote 6k words for my actual hyperfixation and i'm actually exhausted. sometimes i write first in spanish and then in english, when my head is not up for the double translate, and leave the conversion to future me. this is future me talking and i hate myself for that. but i'm kind of proud how this one came out, so i hope you guys like it the same! feedback and reactions are always appreciated! see u guys next time <3

part 1

It was already getting dark when the small cellar you were in with your friends filled with applause and singing, a joy bouncing off the walls as you walked in Steve's direction with a grin from ear to ear. Your blond friend watched the small cake Peggy had gotten him that afternoon head towards him between your hands, setting it down on an upturned wooden barrel, a little damp, that they would use as a table.

Peggy and Bucky were off to the side, their faces matching your excitement as Steve reached down and shook his head.

“I don't even want to imagine how you got that cake in,” was the first thing Steve said when the happy birthday song ended, shooting you a grateful look. His eyes sparkled like you hadn't seen in many days and you felt Peggy's squeeze on your forearm as she came over to form a little circle just like Bucky.

“Trust me, you don't want to know,” Peggy shook her head, her smile matching the blond's.

You watched Steve split a piece of the cake with a spoon you had no idea where Peggy had gotten it from, your friend bursting out laughing when Steve raised his head and she smeared white cream all over his nose. At that moment you felt Bucky's body heat behind you, all your senses turning on at once.

“No candle, but you can make a wish before you take the first bite.”

Steve shared a look with his friend, still with that twinkle in his eye and the most relaxed expression he'd had in days. He was still wearing his uniform, having caught him by surprise to bring him into the warehouse after a long day of planning strategies for the next mission against HYDRA. You and Peggy had been thinking for several days about doing something, and being that it was rather difficult to throw a small party in the camp you were in, you decided to opt for something a little more ordinary and familiar. You couldn't say, however, that Steve didn't like it, not when you saw him smiling at everyone so openly, shoulders down and spreading laughter to everyone around him.

With the spoon halfway to his mouth, Steve closed his eyes and made a wish.

You smiled indulgently, watching two of your friends share a small moment as Steve took some more cake to give Peggy. With your hands behind your back, you suddenly felt Bucky's left hand make its way through your fingers, intertwining your hands very carefully.

“How's the taste?”

Steve shook his head nodding at your words, his brow furrowing in pleasure as he enjoyed the large bites he was taking of the cake. At that moment, all you could think about was how much you would sacrifice to stay in that bubble forever, even without knowing what was coming next.

“Are you okay?”

You heard his footsteps before you saw him, his body leaning against the second to last step where you had sat and turned away from the others. The routine you had had to get used to over the past few months, after believing you were going to change the world, had become a constant burden that was hard to shake off. Still, you took and cherished moments like those when you could go out and sit and just watch the vast sky stretching for miles. The stars shone so brightly there, in the middle of the forest, that they seemed like little beacons seeking to guide you to a better future; perhaps to a future that you did deserve. Steve also sometimes accompanied you in silence, having learned that he couldn't always argue with you about the meaning of life and the purpose for which you two had to carry out the unjust orders of superiors. You once saw one of his drawings, a woman sitting at the top of a flight of stairs and a starry night giving her a message of hope. Maybe he saw it the same way too after a while.

“Yeah,” you replied to Bucky with a tight-lipped little smile.

Bucky didn't know much about you now. As the weeks went by you realized it was true what he had once told you, when the America's couple shows and his platoon's stay coincided for the first time in months. You had changed a lot since the serum injection. And, well, who wouldn't, after all? That's why when you were together after so long he spent time very close to you, very aware of you, checking with his excellent senses that nothing was out of place. That you were okay.

You didn't know if he had believed you, by the way his face remained expressionless, barely a slight twitch of his eyebrows, but he didn't repeat the question.

“Do you think there's anything else for us, besides this?”

Bucky turned his gaze to look at the sky and you watched his profile, the curve of his eyelashes and his half-opened lips. Situations like that had become commonplace, too. Since you no longer spent so much time together and you had changed so much because somehow you had to adapt to the harsh reality against which you had crashed, Bucky constantly wondered many things about life that ended up being his own fears materialized in existential crises. For him his world was shaking. Since you told him that you had been invited to the Super Soldier project with Steve, everything had become uncertainty for him. Uncertainty about his life, about your life, about the life you wanted to have together, uncertainty about the future, uncertainty about life.

You had the conception that Bucky could never fully adapt to the abrupt change that meant his two best friends were involved in a private experiment that gave them heightened senses and more strength and speed than an average human. Now he seemed to looked at himself like the mere mortal who walked shoulder to shoulder with two gods. He seemed to feel that death would knock faster at his door and it drove him mad.

“Yeah, I don't think this is it,” you shook your head in assent, watching out of the corner of your eye as Bucky rested his forearms on his knees and leaned forward a bit. His hands interlocked and parted, his fingertips met and parted, his fists opened and closed.

“But you'll outlive me,” Bucky looked down, his blue eyes glittering focused on yours under the moonlight. You could barely hear movement in the back of the hold where Peggy and Steve were still talking. Your heart flipped at the vulnerability you saw through his eyes, lately more common than you'd like. You didn't like not being able to quell those thoughts that dominated his head; the insecurities and fears that made him doubt so many things in the middle of the night.

“We'd live the same amount of time,” you assured him shaking your head, your own mind refusing to accept that Bucky's fears could take more power over him. Whatever you could do to calm him, you would do, always.

“You have the serum. You and Steve will live for many more years. Hell, maybe you'll even be immortals,” Bucky tried to smile, but a grimace settled on his face and made his words bitter. He was subtly trying to untwist his shoulders, barely moving to your side trying not to show too much that he was kind of nervous.

“Why are you telling me that now?” you shifted on the wooden step, moving a little closer towards him. Bucky tensed visibly, not because of the closeness, but because he knew the moment was coming when you would stop following his lead and start asking him what was really plaguing his mind. For some reason, Bucky couldn't approach those topics of conversation naturally, letting his mind and words wander a bit before daring to take his fears by the horns.

“I don't know… I guess. It's a truth I have to accept,” he confessed, his voice so fragile and soft that had it not been for the extreme hearing the serum had granted you, you surely wouldn't have understood him. You felt your heart crumple and moved your hand from your lap to cradle his hands that he still could not let still.

“But it is a truth that is still a long way from being fulfilled.”

“And first we have to get through the war,” Bucky turned his hands to lace them with yours, his fingers intertwining with yours and giving them a squeeze.

“We will. I have no doubt about it. In fact, I have a plan to persuade Phillips,” you smiled at him trying to lighten the weight on his shoulders a bit.

Little surprised, Bucky let out a laugh, his free shoulders shaking in sync with his chest. A beautiful smile spread across his face, and you would've enjoyed it except you could still notice his tired eyes and the dark traces beneath them. It seemed that the moonlight intensified the reality of his emotions.

“You always have a plan for everything.”

“What can I say? I'm an optimist,” you lifted your shoulders, leaning against Bucky's side. His head dropped to rest on the crown of your head, his breathing synchronizing with yours for a moment.

“Between the two of us, you definitely are,” he murmured, taking a deep breath, enjoying the moment for several seconds. “Sorry for… coming to bring up those topics of conversation.”

“No, it's okay. I like to listen. And you tend to do that sometimes,” you shook your head over his shoulder trying to dispel the topic, Bucky's hands tightening around yours.

“What?”

“You suddenly talk about things you don't want to tell me too much about and then put a little light-hearted attitude on it so it doesn't sound so serious.”

Bucky lifted his head, causing you to move in time to meet his surprised expression as well. His lips were trying to twitch into a smile, but he didn't seem to know if he wanted to laugh or frown.

“Do I really do it that often?”

“A little, yes.”

“Ah, I'm pretty bad at dissembling I guess,” Bucky looked up, finally succumbing to the smile. The gesture satisfied you enough to delve into the emotion with him, taking a moment to further enjoy that scenario you could no longer be a part of lately; to enjoy those everyday moments where you could feel love materially spark around you, as if it was a novel written solely to satisfy human romantic desires and whims.

You shook your head, returning to the subject.

“But you don't have to worry about my supposed immortality. I know we'll live the same,” you assured him once more, your arms wrapping around his right arm and squeezing it securely, hugging him, trying to send him some of the confidence you felt inside.

“How are you so sure?”

The truth was, you weren't, but you couldn't let him know that, much less let him know that you didn't expect his life expectancy to be as extensive as yours was now either. But how were you going to tell him that? He must've been martyred enough by his own thoughts during every moment of the day when they drowned him, and it wasn't as if you expected too much of a life after him either. You could have immortality served on a silver platter, but what would be the point if you had to spend it on your own? Bucky was thinking about not wanting to leave you alone, and you were thinking about the impossibility of finding a reason to live after him.

“Because I know I don't want to live forever if I'm not with you.”

Bucky stopped his light, ghost-like caresses on your fingers. He turned his face to look at you, his nostalgic expression disappearing in a matter of seconds. His blue eyes looked contrite, as if there was a storm inside them. You had never hesitated in your answer, no matter when he had asked. And yet you seemed to have taken him by surprise; it seemed that such a thing would never have crossed his mind even by accident.

“Y/N…”

“I'd be living in vain. Stolen time,” you shook your head, averting your gaze from the depths of his, an unknown kind of longing or fear furrowing across his features that you couldn't bear to see a second longer. You were there at that moment and you would see each other again later, why did you have to think about it too much?

Bucky sighed. Only when you felt his body relax against your side did you know he understood that it would do no good for him to try to antagonize you.

“Still, you deserve a life like this. After all you've been through,” his voice was barely a whisper that tore through the silent chill that surrounded you, but the implication of his words furrowed against your chest like a dagger. You shook your head before the memories could reach you.

“We all deserve it, especially in this world consumed by the greed of power and hatred.”

You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye, his hands wrapping around one of your hands, the one closest to his side and bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. His eyes were fixed on your profile, you could feel it, but you were afraid to turn to look at him and allow your emotions to come out. You were too sweet to succumb to strong feelings when you were with Bucky.

“Hey!” was Steve's voice, like a beacon in the middle of the ocean, making you both turn at the same time. “Peggy's just leaving.”

“Want a ride, Barnes?”

“Ah, it would be my pleasure, Agent Carter.”

Peggy moved, after saying goodbye to Steve and you, and walked in the direction of the huge forest that stretched into the distance where she had parked her car. Or Howard's car, you couldn't quite make out through the darkness.

“See you later, Miss I-don't-want-to-live-forever,” Bucky approached you with a half smile, having said goodbye to Steve, meeting him halfway to melt you in his arms. The tension in your shoulders eased considerably, a sigh making its way into your chest.

“Take care, Bucky,” you squeezed his waist, because you weren't tall enough to reach his shoulders in a hug, and he squeezed you back in response.

“Sure thing. I got to see my girl again, after all.”

You laughed between the hollow of his neck and shoulder, feeling your cheeks burn. Bucky broke away just barely to look at you with his own huge grin.

“Don't overdo it, Barnes.”

“Come on!” Peggy insisted, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

You broke away from Bucky, trying to push him to get into the car with his affianced friend, but he had other plans. In the midst of your struggle to push him away, he grabbed one of your wrists, using very little force to pull you close to his chest, his lips crashing against yours in a fleeting action, but not at all rough, barely a brush. Before you knew what happened he had already pulled away from you.

“When I get back, we have a lot to talk about.”

He never came back. He left in the next couple of days for the mission on the train and all you got back was a shattered Steve, his face dirty and sticky from all the tears he'd shed, his pleading eyes crystallizing on you the moment he had to tell you that Bucky had died. You could still remember how his voice cracked as he begged your forgiveness, repeating it over and over as if it would ease the burden he felt on his shoulders, the guilt for not being able to get him in time. You never blamed Steve for what happened, but it seemed like he did for a long time.

Reliving those memories was always a constant martyrdom. After Bucky's funeral you didn't think you could move on, but carrying all his pain in a sack of rocks, Steve assured you that they would avenge the reason Bucky had died. HYDRA. So you did and were able to carry on for a while until Steve was also declared KIA.

Peggy and Howard were a great help when you realized that you couldn't die on your own, because you healed faster than normal and could spend more time than humanly possible underwater. To say that you didn't try to leave the earthly world would be a lie, but your friends tried to help you in every way they could until you had to leave the United States. When you thought you would have to spend years hiding in Europe, Howard told you that wasn't necessary. Just staying under the radar and out of the feds' jurisdiction would be fine and he would take care of it. And one day, after spending a week in the apartment you were renting without getting out of bed for almost any reason, a knock on the door startled you.

“Correspondence,” rang through the silence of the apartment.

You only got up because you knew the mailman was wrong. You had given your address to absolutely no one and there was no way any person knew of your existence in that country. You thought you took pity on the man, when he handed you the letter and it did indeed have your name on it.

It was an acceptance letter from some university. Apparently you had enrolled to study mathematics.

You had a suspicion of what was going on, but something in your chest asked you to ignore it. The letter asked for an interview before classes started in exactly three days, and after that interview you received a letter from Peggy.

When Howard died you knew you couldn't go back to Europe. Largely because you had to find out who his killer was, but also because you wanted to watch over Peggy's life as you couldn't do for your other three friends. You were often terrified for your friend's life, especially having the job she had and dealing with all those powerful people who wouldn't hesitate for the blink of an eye to order her death.

Steve was right. You stayed with Peggy to investigate Howard's death. But you also stayed because she was the only thing you had left and you had to take care of her; you had to preserve her, to do everything you could to prevent another tragic and unnecessary death. You would've sacrificed anything in life just to allow Peggy to have the life she deserved. And so you did. You cared for her for many years, you were so attentive to her that her children called you aunt and then her grandchildren called you grandma; you were at all her family gatherings, giving gifts to her children at Christmas and celebrating each new year as you watched time pass through her eyes. Every January 1st you saw it as a win, a whole year in which so much sacrifice had been worth it.

Now… well, now everything was a bit more complicated.

Natasha had left the abandoned dam first after going over the plan one last time. You were supposed to go with Steve and Sam, even though Steve was reluctant to have you near the Winter Soldier again, as if you didn't have the same strength and agility as he did. Of course, his fear was rooted in something completely different than that, something he and Natasha had discovered with Zola.

“HYDRA spent years searching for you to recreate the super-soldier serum after the war. If not for the excellent work Peggy and Howard did, they probably would've found you more easily.”

Now, having such a palpable possibility of destroying HYDRA, you didn't think there was the slightest chance that they were still thinking about it, although Natasha stressed that it seemed to be that the soldier had two different missions when he found them in the middle of the city, one of them being that he was to keep you alive. Zhivoy, you recalled bitterly. Alive.

Steve didn't want to risk finding something else waiting for them when they reached the helicarriers, something that might lead you away from him. And yes, you understood his concern because it was the same one you'd felt for years and was more latent recently since Steve returned. But you weren't going to stand by like a fucking statue while they did all the work. You would take it upon yourself to destroy HYDRA completely and deprive them of any chance they might have to get close to Steve, you or Bucky again. Whatever you had to do, you'd do it.

“He's not the same,” you had told Steve, as you walked to the Triskelion in the company of Sam and Maria.

“But he'll remember us,” Steve assured, his hand tightly gripping the strap with which he held the shield. Steve had been repeating that to himself all day, even in front of Sam. You couldn't believe you were the one trying to maintain an objective demeanor in that situation.

“Yeah, maybe at some point. But right now it's not him, Steve,” you turned to look at him, his face fixed on the expanse of water surrounding the large building he used to work for. “He's not the Bucky we knew.”

Steve looked back at you, pausing for a moment. You knew he was mindful of it, you knew Steve was aware of how dangerous he was now; that there was a good chance he really didn't remember them and you wanted to make sure that wouldn't cloud his judgment; that he would still fight for his life.

But the resolve in his eyes didn't convince you. His lack of response fanned a hollow in your chest, your hands breaking out in a cold sweat as you stared at the empty space he left in front of you.

Steve was willing to bring him back and you were afraid of losing him.

For some reason, you felt it had to be different.

You heard Steve's voice over the speakers, running so you could find the helicarriers exit before they took off. Steve and Sam were supposed to meet you halfway, but you were already halfway there, fighting off a few agents, and you still didn't hear them nearby. Your breath caught in your throat as one of the STRIKE agents grabbed you by the throat while another plunged an electric baton into your side, the sensation of volts coursing through your entire nervous system sending you into a momentary state of shock.

You dropped your hands to stop struggling with the agent behind you and grabbed the wrist holding the baton with an overly strong grip, snapping the bone in place and jerking your head to strike the face of the man behind you as his grip wobbled for a second. Both agents fell to the ground, two bones broken in less than a minute. You grabbed the baton before departing, hitting them both in the head barely using half your strength, knocking them unconscious instantly.

As you exited the Triskelion facility to meet the gap you would have to jump over to intercept the first helicarrier, you heard Steve and Sam's voices closer. Oh, right, you forgot to use the communicator.

“Where were you?” Steve exclaimed, running alongside Sam closer to the chasm.

“You've got blood on your neck,” Sam pointed out, before spreading his metal wings and flying off into the sky.

“Put on your communicator,” Steve asked you just before you both jumped at the same time, a feeling of emptiness planting itself in the pit of your stomach.

You landed with your legs bent and leaned forward for a spin before getting up and continuing to run alongside Steve. You rummaged in one of your pants pockets, praying that the small devices hadn't been shattered during the fights you had inside the Triskelion.

Only one was spared.

Steve barely sent you a reproachful glance, shaking his head, as you approached a horde of HYDRA agents. You barely finished putting the small communicator to your ear when the hail of bullets came in their direction. Steve grabbed your arm to pull you behind his shield until he managed to hide behind two large containers. The fight was immediate.

The group of agents split up and you jumped right in front of two of them, sliding on the ground to use the baton from below to disarm them. You knocked one of them out with the high volts of the baton and the other tried to stab you from behind, but you stopped his hand midway and flipped his arm over, a shriek of pain escaping him as his shoulder dislocated. The man fell to his knees and, lifting one leg, you half-turned to strike his face with your full tibia.

“Cap, I found the bad guys you were talking about,” you heard Sam's voice, noting that, although that communicator was working, the voice you perceived sounded distant.

“Are you okay?” you heard Steve, as he came closer and you stepped on the handle of the staff, lifting it in a single stroke so that it landed in your hand.

“Not dead yet.”

Steve nodded, though he knew Sam couldn't see him and gave you a questioning look.

“Works?” he pointed to your ear, starting to pace.

“A little bruised, but does the job.”

Your friend shook his head, starting to run inside the helicarrier.

“Cap?” you smirked.

“Don't start,” the blond spoke through his teeth, moving toward his target. “Report location.”

You nodded in his direction, heading for the first agents who appeared to obstruct his path, clearing Steve's way in the direction of the helicarrier hub.

When you were done with the agents and Steve was finally able to enter the control center, you turned your attention to the voices ringing through the communicator.

“Ah, shit,” was Sam's voice, and the next thing you heard was gunfire around the helicarrier next to it.

“Fine, but you're going with me. I don't want to let you out of my sight,” Steve had said a few hours before they left the dam, leaving no room for argument in his haughty voice.

“That's unnecessary, Steve. We'd waste too much time,” you shook your head, trying to match his stoic, stern expression.

“She's right,” Maria nodded in your direction. “There are three helicarriers and three of you.”

“No,” Steve began to rise, your eyes following the movement of his body and his blue eyes fixed on yours. “Fury delegated orders to me, and that's an order.”

You indulged Steve until you lost sight of him, understanding he had said that out of pent-up fear. You grabbed one of the weapons that had been left on the ground and passed the strap over your head. The third helicarrier was a considerable distance away at a jump. You had to pick up too much speed to even make it to the tip, but you weren't going to stand there waiting for Steve when you could be doing something more; something necessary.

So that's what you did. Steve still hadn't reported state when you started running from tip to tip, your steps getting bigger with every second until you reached the gap and picked up momentum at the tip. That was insane. You felt the emptiness in your stomach again and out of the corner of your eye you could see a couple of explosions occurring in the harbor where the helicarriers had departed from. You stretched your arms out, counting on having propelled your body far enough, fearing a deadly fall as the other edge began to look higher and higher.

“Y/N, status,” you heard Hill, your heart in your mouth.

Your mind went blank for a second, when in the midst of the adrenaline you almost didn't even feel the moment when your left hand gripped the edge of the helicarrier tightly, the aircraft moving a little farther with each passing second. You had jumped at just the right moment.

Breathing hard, you propelled yourself upward until you could plant your feet back on the runway floor and replied to Maria, “Waiting.”

Steve must've thought you were still on the helicarrier with him.

As you ran, Sam reported that he had intercepted the second helicarrier after Steve, barely recognizing their voices amidst the tussle you were having with the agents who had appeared before you could reach the control room door.

“Y/N, where are you?” the voice of Steve came over the comm, a few minutes after you took down the last agent, moving in the direction of the metal door. You felt heavily for the programming card you had taken from Steve when he had pulled you close to get behind his shield, as you heard him ask Sam if he could see you.

You were about to reach the door when the scenery abruptly changed, a body appearing out of nowhere colliding into your left side sending you crashing to the ground hard.

“Shit.”

“Y/N?”

You ignored Steve's voice, moving to push off the heavy body on top of yours. Amidst the struggle you crawled away across the floor, a hand clutching at your ankle before you could move any further.

You recognized him by the coldness that ran through your body at the contact. You could almost be sure it had burned you.

This time he wasn't wearing the mask, those blue eyes boring deep into your head, the angry expression very different from how you had seen him last time. Although you would've liked to stay longer just watching, after spending so many years suffering his death, you pulled the leg he had held captive and tried to hit him in the face, his metal arm moving faster neutralizing the hit.

At that moment you stood up arching your back, planting your feet hard and running towards the soldier before he could catch you off guard.

You tried to strike his face, but he nimbly dodged every blow, just as you dodged his. He let out a grunt of frustration as you sent him to the ground with a kick to the chest, pulling a weapon from his side that he didn't hesitate a second to point in your direction. Feeling the air caught in your throat, you moved quickly on the ground, trying to escape his bullets while managing to find a place to hide.

You heard his footsteps approaching, as you hid behind a container, stopping just on the other side, and you moved to the right side of the container when you knew he was going to jump out and surprise you from above.

His body froze for a second, which you took advantage of to jump over the dumpster and grab him from behind, the baton you had on your belt wrapped around his neck, cutting off his breathing. You tried to hold him tight as he tried to push away your grip with his metal arm, almost as strong as your push to keep him in place.

The soldier began to slow his movements, but if you hadn't been so torn between he's the Winter Soldier and he's Bucky, you would've noticed one of his hands move over his vest, grabbing the handle of a knife and burying it in your right leg hard, all the way in, causing you to gasp.

Clearly your grip wobbled, the soldier taking possession of your staff and turning around as he pulled the blade out of your leg to direct his foot towards your chest, pushing you back to the ground where you fell with a loud thud.

The wound was deep. You could feel and hear the blood pouring out of it, but you didn't just stand there as you saw him leap down from the container, raising his arms to parry his attack as he directed the knife towards your face. His face contorted and scrunched up in concentration was all you could focus on, remembering that you couldn't let him win, but you also couldn't hurt him like he wanted to hurt you. You had to be objective, yes, but the thought of hurting him once more was heartbreaking.

You struggled with his hand until he let go of the knife, using your strength and trying to ignore the sharp pain in your leg from the effort to push him to the ground beside you with your hand on his neck and your leg around his waist, lying on top of him with one leg on each side.

At that moment, as you tried to keep your arm over his neck and he tried to weaken you by hitting your sides, you heard Steve and Sam's voices again. A small panic ran through your body which was enough for the soldier to push your arm away, grabbing you by the neck with his metal arm and bringing a gun close to your face as he rose up, taking you with him, until he slammed you into a wall with great force.

You raised your hand between your bodies to move the tip of the gun, the shot falling a short distance above your head, your exorbitant eyes watching his furious expression. His metal hand closed tighter and tighter around your neck, your breath hitching, but you didn't relinquish your grip on the hand still holding the gun.

In the midst of the struggle, you brought your knee up to strike his crotch. The soldier jerked away, a whimper dying in his mouth as you moved toward him again, pushing his arm away as he pointed the gun at you again and the shot landed somewhere behind you again.

You hit him in the face with your own head, one of your hands holding his right arm with the gun and the other trying to keep his metal arm that held the knife dripping with your blood at bay. You hit him full in the nose again, but even though the blood was starting to drip down, the soldier didn't budge one bit.

“Go!” you shouted to Steve and Sam, the soldier averting his attention for a tiny moment before struggling against your grip again.

You had to break free somehow to get the card to Steve. Your body began to give way with the soldier's thrust, your boots sliding on the floor like it was marble. The soldier began to close his arms and you tried to match his strength, but the blood leaking from the wound in your leg was slowly weakening you. And it was a vibranium knife again.

Suddenly you noticed Steve running towards you, the fleeting glance costing you restraint, as the soldier raised your arms and turned you roughly, his back crashing against your chest and his metal hand burying in your chest the knife hard, moving it from side to side as he did that cold night in Siberia.

In the midst of the pain and weakness from the blood loss, you laid your head on his shoulder, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body.

“Bucky,” you whispered like a prayer, your strangled voice barely making its way out of your mouth and the soldier tensing behind you. The struggling stopped for a second.

Then his body heat disappeared. Steve must've reached and tackled the soldier without missing a beat.

“Hey, hey,” you heard Sam approaching you, kneeling beside you and taking your hand that wanted to pull the knife out of your chest. Right through the center, near the heart. That pain was no match for the disappointment that was tearing you apart inside. Maybe that time you could actually die. “Don't touch that.”

“Give the card to Steve…” you barely muttered breathlessly, one of your hands moving to pull the card out of one of your lower pants pockets. “Run.”

Sam hesitated for a few seconds, looking between your knife and the fight that was still picking up steam in the background, until he clicked his tongue and stood up.

“Don't take that knife out!”

You saw him run in the direction of Steve and the soldier, his metal wings rising in the midst of the struggle. Steve and Sam began to get the upper hand, and at some point, Steve took off in the direction of the helicarrier control center.

You dropped to the ground, watching helplessly as the soldier overpowered Sam, dislodging his wings with the force of his metal arm. The pain was too much, but Sam was completely helpless. No matter how much training he might've had, fighting the Winter Soldier was disproportionate.

So in a matter of seconds you stood up, grasping between gasps the handle of the knife and pulling it out of your chest without a second thought.

The electric current of pain that coursed through your body was unbearable, feeling as if the hollowness you constantly felt in your chest from emotions had suddenly materialized, a constant pang that coursed through you from head to toe at every microsecond, with every movement. Sam didn't even have time to react when you grabbed the soldier by the throat, burying the knife in his leg and trying to wave him off.

You could consider yourself well served if at that moment that was your death.

The soldier grabbed the arm around your neck and leaned forward, lifting you up and flipping you over onto your back, falling hard and painfully to the ground. You looked at the knife in his leg before looking at his face again. He had a couple of cuts, his expression still angry, but he seemed to hesitate as he pulled the knife out like it was nothing and watched you lying on the ground, completely at his mercy.

His hesitation brought unease to your chest.

“Bucky,” you called again, tears welling in your eyes.

The soldier only frowned, his anger momentarily fading until he seemed to remember something.

He turned to look at the control center. Before running off, he sent you another disgruntled look, just like that time on the road.

Whatever had happened after that, death or not, was extremely painful.

tag: @samodivaa @rubyxx16

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lazorbeanz · 2 months

Text

Late Night

Unbreakable Bond

Headcanons and indirect quotes :p #4

🔶 Tails: You ready for tomorrow’s history test?

Sonic: Yea

Tails: What ended in 1896?

Sonic: 1895

Tails: Yea you ready…

🔷 Tails: So, who did ya learn about today?

Sonic: Errr some guy called ‘Martha Luker King Jr.’

Tails: *tryna hold it together* u-uhm okay…and what did he do?

Sonic: *with all confidence* He died for our sins…

Tails: Wait no that’s- *wheeze*

🔶 Sonic singing along the Chorus of Speed Life (he doesn’t know French): 🎶“Something something speed life…SOMEBODY’S WATCHING MEEEEEE”🎶

🔷 Sonic and Tails have this challenge they do at karaoke nights where they attempt to sing a song that’s not in English, which really just ends up as a big laughing fest as they fail miserably. Sonic tries to make up for it by dancing to the music (cuz mind you, it’s catchy) but his legs turn into spaghetti from his fit, and faceplants onto the floor. Tails attempts to help him up but his knees do a funny and falls on top of him, leaving the brothers immobile and gasping for air.

🔶 Sonic: is the pink panther a lion?

Tails: say that again but slower

Sonic: I don’t get??

Tails: he’s the pink PANTHER

Sonic: okay?? But is he a lion?

Tails: 🤦..*grabs the landline phone* hello is this the brain replacement store-

🔷 The brothers have a war going on in their Snapchat stories, where they would steal awkward pics of each other…whether that’s Sonic eating a really messy chilidog or tails after an experiment gone horribly wrong, with the caption being like ‘look at this loser lol’ or something meme related…yes they turn each other into memes

🔶 Sonic would randomly decide to attach tails to a lead every now and then to see his reaction, which at first was pretty vicious, but now he’s just like “rlly bro? -_-” but either one would send Sonic in hysterics

🔷 Tails: hey Sonic, what word starts with “f” and ends with “u c k?”

Sonic: Fu- WAIT TAILS NO-

Tails: it’s firetruck! 😊 uhh sonic?

*cue sonic getting carted away in an ambulance…i think he stopped breathing*

🔶 Since Sonic doesn’t give a toss, tails would somewhat keep an eye out on his brother’s quill care (you could say Amy has talked to Tails about the matter) so after heaps of reasoning and the last resort - the cute fox eyes, Sonic reluctantly gives in to letting his younger brother brush his quills for the first time. It’d go down something like this…

Tails: one~

Sonic: ow-

Tails: two~

Sonic: OWWW…how many of these (brush strokes) do we have to do?!

Tails: like a thousand or something…thre-

Sonic: AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEE!!!!🦅🦅🦅

ANOTHER LIFE IN THE DREAMHOUSE REFERENCE IM SORRY IM SORRY-

🔷 Tails was so sleep deprived that he almost mistook liquid petroleum for coffee one morning (somehow)

🔶 Tails loves planes…in all forms…and THAT INCLUDES the one used to be fed…

Sonic: Tails, you are 8 years old, with an IQ of about 300…and you still want me to do…this?

Tails: b-but…aeroplaneee 🥺

Happy wholesome Wednesday!

Whilst you’re here, we have an Unbreakable Bond Discord server out for all you folks who love the brothers just as much as us! 💙💛 It’s a totally chill place where we can chat, share art or fics, and most importantly, hyperfixate over that hog and fox duo we love so much! (There’s even a place for boops!)

Created by @suzienightsky ✨ If you’re keen on joining, flick her a DM and she’ll give you an invite.

Sorry for the ad lmao

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sth #sonic #tails the fox #unbreakable bond #sonic headcanons #unbreakable bond headcanons #wstw #wsatw #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #indirect sonic quotes #indirect unbreakable bond quotes #sonic and tails

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marvel-ous-m · 8 months

Text

Writing Sucks

Written for @steddiemicrofic Challenge Prompt: Suck | WC: 480 | Rated: T | CW: none |

Author’s Note: inspired by me buying Dave Grohl’s autobiography today and then having writers block about the title of this microfic/writers block about this prompt in general 😅 hope you enjoy!

“Ugh. This sucks.”

Steve glanced over from his cellphone- away from the very amusing video that Robin sent him, a fan cast about his husband in the early 90’s- to look at Eddie in response to his frustrated outburst.

Eddie had been working on his autobiography for the last three months. What was once an ADHD-fueled hyperfixation had become a thorn in Eddie’s side, especially after he got a sternly-worded email from the government to not even allude to anything Upside Down related. Given that almost every Corroded Coffin song was inspired by what happened during Spring break of 1986, that the guys got their start because of Argyle, someone they would have never even known had Eddie not gotten roped into the mess that was the alternate dimension in Hawkins, and that Steve and Eddie only started getting to know each other, and subsequently started dating, because of the trauma-bond formed from the Upside Down, this requirement had put a substantial burden on Eddie’s creative process.

Eddie also, naïvely, promised the publisher that he would have the book finished for review by Halloween- which had now resulted in many mandatory late nights and forced writing, which were two things Eddie did not enjoy.

“What section are you working on, Teddy?”

Eddie let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I finished writing everything after Argyle got us hooked up with our producer in Cali. So… the middle and the end of the book are done, but I’m stuck in the beginning, like I have been for the last two months, after the asshole government decided to bring up the NDAs that shouldn’t even be enforceable because they were basically signed under duress-“

“Hey, Eds? Why don’t you read me what you have, baby.” Steve gently cut him off, having heard this very rant many, many times before.

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his eyes, then gave his computer a scorned look and began reading. “When I was twenty, I got mauled by a bear-“

“-Okay, yeah, that sucks.” Steve cut Eddie off with a giggle, but quieted once he saw the devastated look on his partner’s face. “Hey, it’s okay. You just need to write it like one of your songs, yeah? Make a bunch of metaphors, maybe tie in some Corroded song lyrics. Make it all artsy, people love you for that shit. Just be yourself.”

Eddie frowned for a long moment, his brows creasing in thought. Finally, he turned back to his computer with a large grin- the kind Steve always saw him get when he was writing the songs that would go on to become his greatest hits.

Steve watched his husband write with a smile on his face. They had come a long way over the last almost-forty years, and he found himself falling more and more in love every single day.

#my writing #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficoctober #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #married!steddie #established relationship!steddie #rockstar!eddie

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panandinpain0 · 10 months

Note

Could you write another Jasper Hale x ftm reader

Something angsty but it ends with fluff. For example: a bad dysphoria day?

YOU ARE DOING A REALLY GOOD JOB WITH YOUR STORIES!!!

Ruined

Honestly thank you so much for this <3

I've been really insecure about the quality of my writing lately so this makes me feel a lot better

Also, my current/longtime hyperfixation is showing (Star Wars)

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Jasper Hale x Trans!Male!Reader

---

God no, not today. Any day but today- (Y/N) could not be feeling like this on his one year anniversary with Jasper.

He knew Jasper wouldn't mind, he'd take good care of him until he was feeling better, or keep him company while he was feeling down. (Y/N) did the same for him if he was having a bad day or was feeling particularly insecure or guilty due to his past.

But Jasper had planned the most adorable picnic and (Y/N) knew he'd been spending a lot of time on his gift, but he wouldn't give away what it was. (Y/N) had made Jasper a quilt out of random materials, some bought from the fabric store and others being T-Shirts of their shared favorite band, or other things that meant a lot to them.

Everything had to be perfect, but as he brushed his teeth (Y/N) caught his reflection and knew it wasn't going to be.

Splashing his face with water, (Y/N) tried not to get visibly upset. Jasper could always tell how he was feeling, due to his powers, but also just from the way he looked. He tried to not be invasive with his powers, so he'd gotten good at being visually observant.

Taking in deep breaths, face dripping from the water, (Y/N) caught his reflection again.

And then he was crying.

Jasper was meant to be here any minute, and the second he got out of his car he would be able to hear the muffled sobs coming from the second floor bathroom- hell, maybe even sooner than that.

Not even a full minute had (Y/N) been crying before he heard gentle knocks on the bathroom door.

"(Y/N)? I let myself in, are you okay?" Jasper asked worriedly through the door. (Y/N) had given him a key to his house a couple of months ago- not that he needed one to get in, but as a symbol of his trust.

Sniffling and wiping under his eye, (Y/N) nodded, even if Jasper couldn't see him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." But his voice came out warbled, still thick with tears.

"Not to tell you how you feel, but you don't sound fine. Can I come in, so we can talk?"

(Y/N)'s breathing picked up again and he let out a quiet "yes"- so quiet that it wouldn't have been audible if not for Jasper's enhanced hearing.

Jasper crouched down in front of (Y/N)'s shaking form, hands coming to hold his upper arms gently.

"Hey, what's goin' on darlin'?" his accent came out thicker then it usually was, comforting (Y/N), who loved his accent.

"I fucked it up," (Y/N) cried to him, leaning forward to get closer to him. Jasper shifted to the wall next to (Y/N) and hugged him, running a soothing yet cold hand up and down his back.

"What did ya' fuck up?" he asked gently, rocking slowly to sooth the man next to him.

"Our anniversary. It was supposed to be perfect, but I-" he hiccupped- "I'm not feeling good about myself, and I-"

Jasper hummed comfortingly, still gently rocking from side to side.

"Honey, our anniversary isn't ruined, and definitely not by your doin'."

"But you planned all this stuff and our gifts-" (Y/N) stumbled out again, looking into Jasper's eyes with tears in his own.

"And all of that's grand, but any day with you is a perfect day, sweetheart. If our anniversary is spent right here on your bathroom floor while we work through how you're feeling, that's a perfect day in my eyes.

Don't get me wrong, I don't like seein' you upset." He wiped the tears from under (Y/N)'s eyes, that had slowly stopped flowing. "But if I get to hear you talk for hours I would never get tired of it." He cupped (Y/N)'s face.

(Y/N) let out a watery chuckle, his hands coming up to hold Jasper's wrists. "Are you sure? I was so excited for the picnic, but now I don't feel like leaving the house..."

"We have a lifetime to have a picnic, no use in forcing you to be uncomfortable when we could snuggle up in your bed and watch Star Wars?

As for the gifts, we don't have to be on a picnic to give them."

Jasper gently pulled (Y/N) up to stand, holding his hand as he led (Y/N) to his bed. A wrapped box sat on the blanket, seemingly tossed there in the panic to reassure his boyfriend.

"Open it." Jasper nodded to the package with his head.

Wiping some stray tears, (Y/N) sniffled and sat on the edge of the bed, unwrapping the box. Inside was a scrapbook.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as he looked up at Jasper, who took a seat next to him on the bed.

"Is this what I think it is?" (Y/N) whispered with teary eyes, pulling out the book and opening it to the first page.

"If you think it's a scrapbook then yes," Jasper teased, putting his chin on (Y/N)'s shoulder as they went through it together.

Each page was covered in pictures of the two. Kissing, holding hands, their first date. They laughed at the memories and goofy pictures of them with their friends and family.

It was perfect.

When they reached the end there was a small handwritten note from Jasper.

"One year down, and hopefully many more to go,

Love you my sweet boy,

Jas."

(Y/N) laughed bashfully and turned his head to meet Jasper's lips with a kiss. Jasper's hand came to hold the back of (Y/N)'s head while (Y/N)'s hand cupped his jaw.

As they parted, they smiled at each other.

"This is amazing, Jas. Thank you so much," (Y/N) thanked his boyfriend genuinely.

"Anything for you, darlin'."

"Oh, I've got my gift too!" (Y/N) jumped up, placing his new favorite book in its spot on his bookshelf. Turning to his desk he reached under it and pulled out the folded quilt, a bow wrapped around it.

"You didn't," Jasper mumbled in amazement as he stood up and reached for the blanket. Taking off the bow and unfolding it, he laid it out on the bed and looked at each little detail.

"Do you like it?" (Y/N) asked hesitantly, second guessing everything.

"Do I like it?" Jasper repeated incredulously. "I love it!" He turned and swept (Y/N) into a hug, arms around his shoulders. (Y/N) laughed with relief and wrapped his arms around his waist.

They spent the rest of the day wrapped in Jasper's new quilt, having a Star Wars marathon.

And no, the day wasn't perfect.

But it was beautiful.

---

Yeehaw

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #x he/him reader #x male!reader #twilight #twilight fandom #jasper hale #jasper hale x male!reader #jasper hale x reader #twilight x reader #twilight x male reader #twilight x male!reader #twilight masterlist #twilight fanfiction

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bougiebutchbinch · 5 months

Text

on a happier note

today my brain is buzzing with the idea of Ed getting incredibly hyperfixated on fishing and Izzy and Stede listening to him ramble for literal hours

Stede is sitting there with starry eyes, nodding along, doing his utmost to match Ed's enthusiasm! He's... a tiny bit tired of the topic, truth be told, but he loves how much Ed loves to talk! He can't keep all these facts about different flounder species straight in his head, but he adores how passionate Ed gets. Even if he's zoned out slightly, he's just enjoying the companionship and the vibes!

Izzy, in contrast, abruptly stands up and strides for the door because - fuck, it's been an hour. "Someone's gotta go run the ship. I'd better go make sure we don't run aground (again)."

Ed cuts off his spiel, eyes all sparkly and sad. He mumbles "Okay, mate. Sure, whatever," but it's sooooo obvious he wants Izzy to stay.

Izzy is kinda surprised - he figured Bonnet's eager nodding and encouragement was far more engaging to Ed than his quiet concentration. But there's no denying the hurt expression on Ed's face, and - fuck, Izzy's trying to do better.

They both are.

So, Izzy grumbles, rolls his eyes, and says "OKAY you can come with me and keep talking about your fucking fish. You too, Bonnet."

Ed leaps up, all boundless energy. Stede is quick to follow.

The result is Izzy stomping around the deck checking everyone's work while his captain's tumble after him like excitable puppies, Ed still explaining that he thinks the Sargasso Sea eels are actually the European ones, and they just swim a ridiculously long way to enjoy the clear blue water, because honestly, who wouldn't?

Although Izzy's obviously paying attention to his job and making sure shit's running smoothly, every so often he asks a really pertinent question that shows he's been absorbing literally everything Ed says and thinking critically about it, too. Ed lights up like... well, a lighthouse, and goes off on another spiel - while Stede smiles at both of them fondly and the crew giggles behind cupped hands~

By the end of the week, Ed's is sinking into the post-hyperfixation blues, where The Thing He Loved is no longer producing the same dopamine rush. But his boyfriends are there to pamper him and wrap him in blankets and make sure he knows that even when he's sad and gloomy, Izzy's gonna protect him and Stede's gonna give him affection (and even vice versa, in their own ways).

Izzy's head is now full of somewhat useless fish facts. He wouldn't have it any other way.

#steddyhands #izzy hands #gentlebeard #ed babygirl teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #ed teach #israel hands #dizzy izzy #ofmd stede #ofmd izzy #blackhannet

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liyawritesss · 1 year

Text

ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ [ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴍᴀɴ] ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Miles Morales [Spider-Man]

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: general thoughts and headcanons for everyone's favorite afro-latino spiderman!

Warnings: some cursing but overall no warnings. KEEP IT CUTE AND PG-16 CUZ THIS IS STILL NEPHEW WE TALKIN BOUT HERE!!!

A/N: went to see atsv and i’m absolutely floored by that movie…it’s definitely giving me new material to write abt and a new hyperfixation so buckle up yall cuz the next few posts are gonna be all spiderman related!!

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @venusdraco @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @lulu-network @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22

First off I wanna say this is my SON, and on everything i love i will throw hands over him, if anybody wanna try it prepare to be demolished cuz I will NOT spare you. This is a lil boy ion wanna see none of yall sniffin around him period. I will gladly held you find your mind if you wanna lose it today!!!

Okay, no that that spiel is over, we’ve got some headcanons to address about everyone's favorite afro-latino spiderman

He’s so precious. Idc if you know already I’m telling you again, he is the most precious thing in the world. He has a heart of gold and wears it on his sleeve, he’s always looking out for people and wants to see the best in everything and everyone. Which, while it is a good characteristic to have, can sometimes put him in tough situations, and sometimes it doesn’t end well.

He’s such a momma’s boy, but like the good momma’s boy where he adapts the things Rio teaches him and repays her by being a good filial son, even though he’s growing up and wanting to branch out. If he’s having emotional trouble, he’ll come to her to try and figure out how to express himself and understand how he’s feeling. On special occasions, or just when he notices her mood is off, Miles will conspire with his dad to do something small but special for his mom, like make breakfast or drop off flowers at her work. She’s always super appreciative of it too

Waking up for him is hell in the morning, because he is not a morning person at all. It’s worse if he went on patrol the night before (which, 9/10, he has) and he almost always sleeps through his alarm. He’s the type to have to have several alarms set to get up up, because otherwise he will sleep through the day

Similarly, Miles also finds it hard for him to sleep most nights. In the beginning of his career being Spiderman he would almost never go to sleep really. Even the trick of using nyquil or melatonin gummies didn’t work because his mind was always on one hundred, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Though as he meets friends he can confide in and grows older he learns how to manage that kind of stress, which makes it easier to sleep. Though the insomnia never truly leaves him unfortunately, and its something he has to take with him for the rest of his life

Despite his introverted self, and the fact that he tends to want to keep to himself more often than not, Miles is actually very easy to talk to and if given the time and patience, great at making friends. He’s awkward at first because he wants to measure his interactions based on the vibe of the person he’s talking to, but you will find a hardcore loyal and caring friend in Miles.

So emotionally aware that it almost hurts. He’ll be upset and know why he’s upset, but sometimes wishes he didn’t know because in some situations he may not think his emotions are valid. And because he’s such an intentional person and a hyper empath, everything he feels is multiplied by ten. So if you fuck him over, he’s probably more upset about it than you’ll ever be if you were upset at fucking him over, if that makes sense?

He’s a cuddle-bug and nothing will change my mind about it! He had hella teddy bears as a little boy and would get upset if Rio took them to be washed because he was afraid he wouldn’t see them again. For no reason in particular he’s slowly dissipated his teddy bear collection and now uses a very fluffy body pillow to hold on to as he sleeps. Sometimes if he’s sick or just very down in the dumps and Rio notices, she’ll climb into bed with him for a while and comfort him

A decent cook actually as well! He was always in the kitchen when his mom and his tia’s came over to cook so he knows how to throw down in the kitchen a lil bit. His favorite thing to make is tamales because while the process may be tedious, it allows him to unwind and clear his mind while focusing on the preparation of them.

Miles’ is the type that when he goes into the store he will always, without fail, buy a new notebook/sketchpad. He may not even need it, he may already have like ten new ones he has yet to break in, but he always likes to stay prepared for when his current one runs out. He also likes to alternate between them or dedicate certain notebooks to certain muses or drawing preferences

Will squeak out of surprise and say something in spanish if he’s startled or scared. And I’m talking like a girlish squeak and it's so cute but he’d be so embarrassed, cuz why did you have to sneak up on him like that? He was doing perfectly fine til you wanted to give him a heart attack.

On the topic of spanish, he isn’t that confident in it so he doesn’t really like to speak it if its not with his family, because he just knows he’s gonna fuck it up. So if he feels like there's pressure in a conversation where he knows he’s going to have to speak it at some point, he’ll try to back out before that happens

Miles gets so fascinated with things all the time. It happens mostly when he’s either strolling through the neighborhood or he’s on patrol. Definitely checks himself out in the glass of skyscrapers…then promptly remembers that there are people behind said glass that can see him and hurriedly swings off. And if a new pair of Jordans have been teased? Best believe he’s doing all the chores and buttering up his parents so that he can get them as soon as they drop

Speaking of Jordans; this boy is such a sneakerhead it’s insane. His dorm room AND his room at home are full of shoe boxes he has yet to style with some clothes. Keeps telling his parents “I’ma wear ‘em, I’ma wear ‘em!” but he never has the time to cuz he’s too preoccupied with being a good student and Spiderman to prioritize style over comfort (even tho he do still be fresh n clean)

He’s also the best bestie to have. Texts you tiktoks, checks in on you at seemingly always the right time. If you go to school together then you know you’re hanging out after classes. And if you need help in the sciences, Miles is the best tutor ever. And his family loves you, so birthdays, christmas and other holidays, if you’re not already celebrating with your folks, if you don’t fuck with them like that, or if you don’t have a real family, he’s inviting you over his place all the time so that you never have to feel alone.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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