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oldmannapping · 2 months

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Mama - a Red Hood fanfic

Directly inspired by this post by @webshood

Excerpt:

You don’t jack a car in Crime Alley. And you definitely don’t jack a car in Crime Alley that almost certainly has a child in it.

The “Welcome To Gotham: 10 Things You Need To Know” pamphlets that Harley Quinn earnestly distributed to newcomers to the Gotham underworld were very clear about Red Hood’s list of Dos and Don’t.

Among the top Don’ts were:

Crime in Crime Alley

Crimes against women in Crime Alley

Crimes against children in Crime Alley

Mama

It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been so goddam cute.

Felicia Aidia, barely a year old. Couldn’t quite walk yet, but she could stand unassisted for five seconds of startled jubilance before her own shock at the situation would send her flopping back on her adorable diapered butt. Huge almond eyes that were nearly black, wispy black hair and full pink cheeks, she looked altogether too cherubic to be real.

Felicia had been strapped safely in a booster seat, poking at the condensation on the window of the rideshare car she was in with her babysitter, when they were carjacked by an idiot with either a death wish or less situational awareness than a stoned beetle.

There was no other excuse for why this man jacked a She-Share, one of the brightly-marked cars in a fleet that was famous for being Gotham’s first rideshare company to boast child seats in every one of their vehicles at no extra cost.

They were famously affordable and primarily utilised by single parents in low-income areas such as Crime Alley.

You don’t jack a car in Crime Alley. And you definitely don’t jack a car in Crime Alley that almost certainly has a child in it.

Among the top Don’ts were:

Crime in Crime Alley

Crimes against women in Crime Alley

Crimes against children in Crime Alley

The car thief had shoved the driver and Felicia’s babysitter out of the vehicle but utterly failed to notice the giant car seat and the appropriately-sized child occupying it.

A city-wide Amber Alert was out within minutes, which honestly was pretty good considering it happened in Crime Alley and Gotham police liked to pretend that area was just a mysterious Bermuda Triangle kinda place where people just mysteriously went missing, who can say why, oh well, what can you do.

The police were fast but Red Hood was faster.

The vigilante was leaping across rooftops with the speed of a panther. One police helicopter pilot completely forgot their assignment and started following him instead of the stolen car. People livestreamed blurry videos of the car careening around corners that hadn’t yet been blocked off, panning up to catch a glimpse of red metal and brown leather streaking across the sky in pursuit.

The end was anticlimactic. Hood crashed onto the roof of the car from the awning of a deli like a feral beast and punched straight through the driver’s side window. He knocked the driver out and wrested control of the vehicle until it skidded to a stop a few blocks away from the official police cordon.

Before any officers got there, Hood had hogtied the unconscious car thief and carefully extracted Felicia from her carseat.

She let out a small, uncertain wail at the sight and sound of cheering locals, crowding close to film and too boisterous with relief to realise they were scaring a baby.

Felicia pouted. It had been loud, and then fast, and then unfamiliar, and then loud again, and suddenly she was outside, and she was supposed to be napping, and she didn’t know any of these people.

Wait, yes she did. The man cradling her protectively with one arm and holding the other out to the crowd, telling them to, “Back off, back off, give her some space,”, she’d seen him before. She didn’t know how but he was familiar. His big red face (no eyes, very strange, no mouth too! How did he suck his thumb?) wasn’t scary. He was the man on the wall painting! The big wall near the playground had a picture of him painted on it. The playground was safe, and he reminded her of the playground. He was holding her protectively and he was all nice and warm.

Felicia didn’t know many words. But she did know the word she used for the person who felt safest.

“Mama!” she said loudly, clinging to the red man’s arm. “Mama!”

“It’s okay, kiddo,” he said in a very soothing voice for someone without a mouth, “We’ll get your mom.”

A police officer arrived and tried to take Felicia away. She did not appreciate it.

“Mama!” she cried louder, torn between frustration and fear. No one ever listened to her! She reached for the red man. “MAMA!”

Well. Like we said. She was so goddam cute. All eyes were on her fat little face, her adorable, freshly-rescued, chubby little hands reaching out to Red Hood. Everyone was filming her on their phones.

And she called the Red Hood “Mama”, in a perfectly clear, tiny, adorable little baby voice.

Of course it went viral.

For a while, it was a fun in-joke between Gothamites. People playing vigilante bingo to see who they’d spot each night would jokingly ask each other if they’d seen “Mama” down by the docks. Goons blustered amongst themselves that “Mama” didn’t scare them, as they kept their heads down and prayed he didn’t notice them. One bold news website captioned a picture as “Red Hood/Mama” in a story about Felicia’s rescue, while the commenters lost their minds either rofl skull skull skull dying laughing or warning the editors that they should be careful in case the trigger-happy vigilante didn’t have a sense of humour.

Closer to Hood’s home though, the reception was different. And, to him, wholly unexpected.

It started with Felix, the 16-year-old who’d been a sex worker until Hood cleaned up the under-18 scene in the Alley, and who now helped shuttle street kids to the lowkey safehouses Hood and his team had set up. Felix was a good middleman the kids trusted to take them somewhere with food, water, electricity, and no one called CPS. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a good compromise until Hood could clean the stink out of the city’s social services.

Felix was smoking on a stack of crates one night, chatting to a couple of his friends, when Hood strolled over.

“Hola, Mama,” Felix greeted casually, taking a drag of his cigarette as his friends choked.

Hood just sighed. “Not you too.” With a weary exhale, he got to business. “I got those extra blankets you needed for the safehouse on Cedar. They’re at the Warehouse B if you want to run them over tonight. Sheila knows you’re coming, she’ll sort you out.”

And so, with Felix not dead and two witnesses with big mouths to tell the tale, word spread. It was open season on Red Hood’s new nickname.

“Hey, mama!” called the girls on the corner as Hood checked to make sure none of the johns had gotten too rough.

“Mama’s here!” crowed the gays and theys across the block as he dropped off condoms and hot soup.

“It’s mama!” announced the receptionist at the shelter when Red Hood stopped by to do an inventory check.

Everywhere he went.

Whatever. It would pass. People’s attention spans were shot to shit, and the loudest viral jokes always burnt out the fastest. At least, Hood was pretty sure. He wasn’t really online much but it was impossible to exist in the world without hearing a few meme references, and they always seemed to die out fast. When was the last time anyone talked about Baby Shark? Or that kid who said “corn” weird? This would blow over.

Granted, it was taking a bit longer than Hood initially expected.

When Dick gleefully changed his name in the Family Chat, Jason ignored it. He never replied to that thing anyway.

When Red Robin said, “Mama, you’re clear,” in perfectly neutral tones during an otherwise routine surveillance operation, and several comm lines immediately muted themselves, Jason ignored it.

When Damian’s new black kitten, with huge blue eyes and a white streak on the forehead, was named Mama, Jason started to get annoyed. Even DAMIAN?

When Roy answered his call with, “Mama, I missed you!” followed by thirty seconds of unhinged cackling, Jason hung up the phone and didn’t speak to Roy for three days.

When Cass used the ASL sign for Mom to relay information to him during a mission brief, his shoulders dropped.

When Alfred gave him an exquisite pink cupcake on the second Sunday of May, Jason thanked him, left the room, walked into the nearest bathroom, carefully put the cupcake on the bench, and screamed into a towel for six minutes.

When Duke finished a story about growing up in the Narrows with, “Mama knows what I’m talking about, right?”, Jason was defeated.

Fine. They win. Everyone wins.

He worked so hard on a legacy. He dug out of his own GRAVE. He clawed himself back from insanity and anger and reclaimed himself, reclaimed Red Hood, reclaimed his home. He carved a new space for himself, not quite a vigilante, not quite a villain. He made his own rules. He built an empire.

And now, he’s FUCKING Mama.

Life isn’t fair. Sometimes the Joker kills you and you sever heads and butcher bad guys and build up a reputation and then one goddam adorable child says two goddam syllables and you’re fucking MAMA for the rest of your goddam life.

Fuck it. He’s going home. He’s too tired for this shit.

#batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #batfamily #roy harper #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #harley quinn #batman fanfiction #crime alley #crack fic

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xmalereader · 10 months

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Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors Note: Took some inspiration from Felicia Hardy and Selene Kyle, let’s be honest Selene is my mother and will let her whip me whenever she wants 😌, so why not make this shot full of sass and perhaps some slight sexual tension? Also all Spanish words are correct, I am fluent in Spanish and Latino myself!

Summary: Every universe had a black cat, weather it ends in a good or bad outcome every Spider-Man had at least experienced being around a black cat. Miguel had his own variant back at his universe, but his story with black cat is interesting.

Warnings: ATSV Slight Spoilers! Some angst, mentions of time travel, breaking and entering, kissing, language, Miguel is tired, mentions of past divorce, mentions of Gabrielle, timeline, loop holes, miles wants to be adopted, reader is trying to bring hell, reader is protective of Miles, breaking the rules, toxic Miguel, Toxic reader, a negative plus a negative is a positive.

Word count: 4.1K

— || Part Two || Part Three ||

—

Noir didn’t know why he enjoyed watching the kid mess up, but it brought some joy into his daily task. Here he is standing on the edge of a roof top, staring down at the city’s number one hero trying to get himself untangled from his own webs. Both he and the little spider in red and black were chasing each other throughout the entire city, nearing midnight he was caught by the cities hero stealing a very valuable gem that was worth thousands, good enough for Noir to steal. How could he not? Now, after hours of chasing here he stands, head tilted in disappointment as he watches the little spider trying to escape his own webs after a malfunction in his own creation.

“Now this goes—wait, no…”

Noir tilts his head back, signing deeply to himself as he tucks the gems into his pocket before jumping down from the building and landing in front of the kid. He was a thief, not some cruel person who’s going to leave this poor kid stuck. “Kid—“

“I got it! I got it! Just have to—AH!”

The kid only get himself tangled into the web even more, causing the thief to roll his eyes, using his own claws to cut thought the webbing like it was nothing. The little spider looks around in surprise and smiles under his mask. “Hey, that worked!”

“Indeed it did.” Noir mocks him back, rolling his eyes from underneath his goggles.

“Now, I’m turning you in—!”

Noir holds his hand up to cut the kid off, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “Kid, we’ve done this too many times. We all know that you’ll never be able to get me so just let it go and go after someone who is actually causing harm.” He give the kid a pointed look before using his grappling hook to get back to the roof top and continue his way back home. Only for the kid to follow after him, he expects himself to get into a fight with the kid again, knowing that he would win the fight and end things quickly.

“Wait! Look, I get that what you’re doing isn’t entirely dangerous nor are you harming anyone but, why do it? Why steal when you can just get a job?”

Noir’s eyes widen and bursts out laughing, shaking his head as the kid stares back confused. “Get a job? Kid, I did have a job but, no matter where I worked it was never enough to survive. Not everyone has an easy life and if you have to take some risks then take it. You can try and stop me all you want, kid. But, it won’t make things better.”

The kid stays silent, taking in his words as Noir brushed past him and makes his way towards the other side of the roof.

“Wait!”

Noir sighs, hand on his hip and looks over his shoulder to see the kid standing his distance. “I’ll stop coming after you.”

That causes him to raise a brow, confused and surprised by the kids sudden words, before he could ask why the kid speaks up. “If you teach me how to fight.”

Of course.

That’s how the two have been getting along after a year of teaching the kid how to defend himself, he was new to the whole hero thing and Noir was the only one who was able to teach him a thing or two. It was rare for him to connect with people who weren’t trying to kill him or let alone take him to prison for stealing something valuable of theirs.

Currently both of the two are sitting on top of a clock tower, the kid eating some pizza while Noir sips his morning coffee, watching the sunrise after spending all night training the kid on how to land his punches. “Isn’t it too early for you to be eating that stuff?” He mumbled out, getting the kids attention who turns to him with a stuffed mouth full of pizza.

“…no?”

Noir chuckles at the kid. “Don’t come to me if you start getting heartburn.” He mumbled around his coffee cup before taking another sip, focusing on the view ahead. The two spend most mornings like this, eating ‘breakfast’ together and enjoying each others company. The kid had stopped trying to get him arrested and each time Noir was caught stealing he always made it out without an issue.

He’s known the kid for a year now and he’s grown onto him. The last time he was around someone he cared about he ended up losing everything and always pushed people away from getting too close, but the kid always found his way back into his life. Noir breaths softly, glancing at the kid who had just finished his box of pizza and closed the lid while whipping the grease from his fingers onto his suit, causing the older man to grimace at his manners.

“All done, so what’s the training today?” The kids voice is full of enthusiasm which causes Noir to chuckle. “No more training.” He sets his coffee cup to the side and stands from sitting on the edge of the clock tower, towering over the kid who tilts his head back, staring at his second mentor. “You’re ready to do things on your own and I am done here.”

“Wait what?” The kid tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean your done here? Are you leaving?”

Noir placed a gentle hand on the kids shoulder. “You’ll do fine on your own, I taught you nearly everything I know. I’m clearly not needed anymore and I have business to attend somewhere else.” Noir was reaching a deadline with his stay here with the kid and had to move onto his next task, wanting to avoid bringing the kid anymore trouble that he’s already dealing with alone in this city.

The little spider before him doesn’t know how to react to this situation, clearly not happy with the outcome but knowing that he can’t do anything about it. “Will you be back?” He asks.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Noir shrugs his shoulders, sighing deeply to himself. “I don’t know…” He really didn’t, one moment he’s here and the next he’s gone. That was his plan and always has been.

Noir can see how bummed out the kid is and can’t help but, pull the kid into a gentle hug. “I’m ever around I’ll make sure to meet you. Perhaps during one of our usual chases.” He gets the kid to chuckle at his humor before the two pull apart. He’s staring at the kid with a sad smile, with a clawed index finger he bops the kid on the nose or where he thinks his nose is at due to him wearing the mask.

“Take care of yourself kid.”

“I’m not a kid…”

Noir chuckled. “You’ll always be a kid.” He picks up his empty coffee cup, making his way over to the ledge of the clock tower, facing his back towards the kid before looking over his shoulder to give the kid one last advice. “Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do, remember that.”

With that he jumps off the tower, leaving the kid on his own to continue on his own path.

Noir already planned to leave this place and couldn’t delay it any longer before he finds him. Upon arriving to his apartment, he slips through the window undetected from the neighbors and slips off his tinted goggles along with his gloves, letting out a deep exhale as he looks around the semi empty apartment that he was only planning to use for a short period of time.

He toss the gloves to the side and keeps the rest of his uniform on as he works around the apartment, collecting certain things to take with him while the other stuff he stuffed inside a trash bag, clearly not needing that stuff any longer and tossing it out the window, where it landed down below and into the dumpster.

Once the apartment is fully empty he reaches inside the bag he was planning on taking with him, unzipping the front pocket and pulling out a silver bracelet. He stares at the blank screen, knowing that once he turns it on he will be traced, only giving him a few minutes to plan his escape. He zips up his bag and slips on his goggles again along with his gloves, slipping the bracelet over his wrist and with his index finger he taps on the blank screen, watching it turn on, activating.

“Five minutes.” He whispers to himself as he quickly types in Earth-42502, watching as a portal opens before him.

Adjusting his goggles, he takes a step forward only to freeze in place when another portal opens behind him. “The hell?” He looks over his shoulder, eyes widening under the goggles as a flash of red and blue zips towards him. He doesn’t have time to think as a hand wraps around his throat, knocking him back into the other earth.

The two are free falling through the air, grunting as his hand finds the others wrist and glares. He’s quick to use his strength, kicking him off as they continue to fall. “That was faster than usual.” He calls out, getting the other spiders attention who glared under his mask.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive to Earth-42502, portal opening onto the roof top of Oscorp Tower. Noir lands gracefully, but is quick to jump out of the way when the other spider lands where he once stood.

“Here I thought I’d never find you.”

Noir remembers that voice too well, remembering the days that the two would wake up next to each other.

“Seems like your desperate to find me.” Noir speaks up, taking cautious steps back as his eyes follow Miguels large figure. The man showed off his talons, taking dangerous steps forward as if stalking his prey.

“Let me guess, you were waiting until I activated this little guy, huh?” He raised his left arm to show off the bracelet he wore. The same bracelet that once belonged to Miguel and that he was able to snatch from during the time he was running away from Miguel. “Lyla’s not good at tracking.” He adds with a grin on his face.

“At least she found you before you can even open a portal to this earth. An earth that you don’t belong too.” Miguels voice is full of irritation, tired of having to chance Noir from different universes each time he disappeared off the radar.

“I know where I belong.”

Noirs voice drops down to a serious one, glaring under his own goggles as he takes steps back, slowly stepping on top of the ledge. “I’m not going back to that place, not after what you did.” He spits out.

“I was only trying to fix things.” Miguel sneers.

“By destroying a universe for our daughter? A daughter that wasn’t ours.”

“She was!”

“She belonged to another version of us and not us.” He points between himself and Miguel. The two have been chasing each other since day one, Miguels cannon affected him badly, causing him to lose his own child. Miguel had tried to find ways to fix it by going to other universe in hopes of getting their lives back together again only to mess things up badly and to cause a whole universe to be destroy. Their constant arguing grew worse as the days went on the two couldn’t be in a room together without trying to tear each other apart, leading to a divorce between the two. Well, a divorce wasn't really an option due to their universe being gone and instead was considered a break up between the two without having to sign he paper work.

In the public’s eye they were seen as married still. For them, they were separated.

Noir didn’t start stealing until after he stole Miguel’s bracelet, finding a way to stop Lyla from tracking him down and using it to escape from the man he loved. Giving himself a new life, stealing from every universe and only causing trouble for Miguel due to the constant anamolies being placed in the wrong universe, only giving the man extra work on getting it fixed.

You could say that it was Noirs way of showing revenge for all of the times Miguel blamed him for trying. Earning himself a reputation and treating it like a game.

“Y/n—“

“I don’t have time for you, right now.” Y/n hissed out, turning around and jumping off the building, getting Miguel to panic all of sudden and run after him, jumping off and diving down to wrap his arm around Y/n’s waist and using his talons to grip onto the side of the building also using his webs to hold on.

“What—?”

“I’m not letting you go that easy.” Said Miguel, grinning under his mask as Y/n’s eyes widen at the realization.”Don’t you dare!” Y/n uses his own claws in a threatening way only for Miguel to ignore his threatens, getting Lyla to open a portal back to their earth and quickly dropping his (ex) husband down the portal. Only for Y/n to land inside Miguels little anomaly prison as one of his traps is set around him, caging him inside a tight space as he tried to use his claws to claws his way through.

It wasn’t until Miguel drops down in front of him. The two could easily be face to face if it wasn’t for the barrier stopping them. “You’ll stay here until everything is fixed and then you can scream and yell all you want.” Said Miguel a hand on his own hip as his mask dissolves away, showing his real face to Y/n who frowned. “You can keep me here all you want, but I will always find a way out.” He was testing him.

This wouldn’t be the first time that he was trapped under Miguels watch, he’s escaped plenty of times before and he will do it again.

Miguel chuckled deeply. “Oh, mi amor. This time it’s different, because I’m going to make sure that I have a close eye on you twenty-four seven.” He looks over his shoulder to nod at one of the spiders from his society who turns around to type away on their computer. All of sudden Y/n is transformed to Miguels lab, appearing in the room in a flash as he yelps in surprise.

“Jesus…” He breaths out in surprise a hand over his beating heart as he falls back onto his bottom. “A heads up would have been nice.”

“Stop being annoying and be quiet.” Said Miguel, circling him like prey and focusing back on his work. Y/n grins, reaching up to push his goggles up and over his head. “Listen, cabeza de mierda. You brought me here in order to keep an eye on me, but never did you say that I couldn’t annoy you.”

“I—“

“So, I won’t stop talking your ass off until you let me go.”

Miguel stares down at his husband, knowing the man well enough to know that he was keeping that promise. The taller spider sighs in annoyance, already regretting his choice as Y/n grins at him and leans back against his elbows and crossing his leg over the other, lying down as he groans out loudly.

“Who would have thought, the two of us together again. After a year? Damn, it’s already been a year, I remember you slamming into a wall when chasing me through Earth-6574. God, the anger in your eyes was so satisfying!”

Miguel tried to focus on his work, ignoring the mans words as he continues on, rambling on about anything that will annoy Miguel until the man gives in.

The conversation went for hours, with Y/n changing positions every few minutes, one minute he’s lying down and the next he’s sitting. Another time he’s doing a handstand in the small space he’s trapped in or using his claws to try and penetrate the force field around him only to fail. He didn’t stop until he suddenly grew bored, lips sealed as Miguel finally takes in the peaceful silence, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“There it is.”

Miguel snaps his head towards Y/n, already knowing his plan.

“Enjoyed your five seconds of peace and quiet? Because, I was just getting started.”

Miguel wants to shout, opening his mouth to throw back an insult only for him to be disturbed by the sound of people entering his lab, getting his attention. Y/n also looks over to the group of teens approaching them, one specific teen getting the thief’s attention as he narrows his eyes, focusing on the curly hair and dark skin until his eyes widen in realization.

“Miles?”

Even though he’s only known the kid for a year and had trained him on the side, he knew who the kid was under the mask, but never said anything. Not wanting to freak the kid out. Whenever the kid wasn’t hiding behind the mask, Y/n would keep a close eye on the kid, making sure that he was focusing on school and attending his family diners and parties, somehow feeling responsible for the kids disappearance each time he skipped classes or lunch only to meet up with enthusiasm, excited to learn something new from the thief that the teen befriend somehow.

It didn’t take long for the platform to lower, reaching the ground and getting the teens attention. Before Miles could introduce himself or hand Miguel the empanada that he had in hand. The kids eyes fall onto Y/n, narrowing his eyes a bit. “Noir?”

This gets everyone’s attention, including Miguel who snaps his head in Y/n’s direction with a knowing glare that he knew too well.

“Hey kiddo!” Noir waves at Miles with a wide grin on his face, side eyeing Miguel as he feels his burning glare. Miles doesn’t think twice to quickly rush over and jump onto the platform, worry in his eyes as he ignores Miguel’s surprised look along with Gwen’s panicked looked and Hobie’s grin. The teenager was too focused on Noir to care about what the others were thinking about his actions, his palms against the force field that separated the two as he tries to find a way to get him out. “Why are you here? How are you here?” Miles began to ask as Y/n looked at Miles with a fond look and faint smile.

“Easy kid, I’m alright.” He tries to reassure the kid.

“Get him out.” Miles blurts out, turning to Miguel with a frown on his face. The sudden demand shocks the others, but not Y/n who can only smirk over Miles shoulder and towards Miguel who frowned deeply. “I’d listen to the kid.” He whispers, loud enough for his ex to hear.

Miguel grunts in disapproval and had no choice but to do as told as gets red of the red field around him, finally setting him free as Y/n stands from his spot, stretching his arms in the air like a cat and getting caught by surprise when Miles hugs the other man. “Whoa! Easy kid, I’m alright.” He reassured him, giving his back a soft pat.

His actions don’t go unnoticed as Miguel watched the two interact with each other, clearly reading the signs that Y/n had claimed this kid as his own, treating him with care and respect, knowing that if he comes between the two, Y/n wouldn’t hesitate to fight back like a feral cat. It’s happened before and it won’t stop him from doing it again.

“You said you had to leave.” Miles speaks up, getting Y/n attention who sighs deeply. “About that…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and giving Miles an awkward smile.

“Noir isn’t from your universe, he belongs in mine. He was caught breaking the rules and had no choice but to bring him here. He’s a slippery one and likes to get away, so letting him out of his cage wasn’t a good idea.” Said Miguel, getting an eye roll from Y/n and placing his hand on his hip. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve gotten away from it many times and you didn’t seem to mind.” Y/n said back, making his way around the platform and taking in Miguels work.

He takes notice of the videos and pictures of them both together along with this their daughter, causing a small sad sigh to escape his lips knowing that Miguel hasn’t gotten over the death of their daughter. Y/n was the only one who was able to move on from everything but Miguel, he couldn’t blame him. Everyone coped different with death and took their own pace in recovery. With a clawed finger he turns the pictures off, glancing over to Miguel who was watching him this whole time with a sorrowful look on his face.

Y/n quickly turns away, refusing to look at the man he once loved.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Gwen points between Y/n and Miguel, approaching the duo that stood before her, getting Y/n to smirk widely. “Actually were married.” He quotes out, getting a surprise look from both Gwen and Miles. “Divorced.” Miguel added, hands on his hips as Y/n pouts at his words.

“Divorced? Really, you two would look cool together.” Said Miles. “Adopt me?”

Y/n breaks out in laughter, throwing his head back as he laughs at Miles words. He jumps offer the platform and takes miles into his arms, pulling the kid close to him and squeezing him tight. “How did my ward become so adorable? If I could adopt you then I would!”

“Wait, your ward?” Miguel asks, clearly not likening this.

“Yep!”

“He’s taught me a thing or two.” Said Miles and with a proud smile on this face he extends his hand, opening his palm to show Noir the hard-drive that he stole from Miguel, getting a very proud Y/n to hug him again. “My child is learning!” He cheers in excitement while Miguel growls. “No, no, I refuse to let you take in a spider. You are enough trouble, let alone having a kid do it too?”

“If it wasn’t for me the kid wouldn’t have gotten better on his skills. I taught him how to defend himself and perhaps get away with a thing or two…” Even though Miles was suppose to be his universe hero and protector, he couldn’t help but, teach the kid a thing or two when it comes towards breaking and entering. Teaching Miles how to sneak back inside his room or dorm without being noticed and to pick on locks in case of emergencies.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself in disappointment. “No puedo mas, no puedo mas.”

Y/n rolled his eyes. “So dramatic.” He mumbled as he listens to Miguel ramble on while Miles is being saluted by Hobie, admiring the kids new skills form a very well known thief in many universes.

“Did you know that he stole this guitar for me?” Said Hobie, pointing over his shoulder where his guitar was strapped over his shoulder. “Mad genius.”

Miles laughs. “I don’t like stealing, but Noir once helped me with getting my mom a present for Mother’s Day. He stole a necklace for me, nothing too expensive but also nice.” Said the teen. Clearly he was nervous and ashamed for it when he first got handed the jewel from the known thief only for the anxiety and worry to fade away when he say how happy his mother was about the gift.

His father questioned him and all Miles told his dad was that he worked hard for it.

Noir smiles at the two before looking over to Miguel who stared with disappointment, but Y/n didn’t seem to care one bit wanting the teen to enjoy his life and he wouldn't mind breaking a few rules in order to give the kid what he wanted. Even if it meant bumping into his husband ever once an awhile.

#male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel O’Hara x male reader #reader #Spider-Man #AU #black cat reader #marvel shot #marvel x male reader #ATMV spoilers #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #black cat series #BlackCat tag

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k-slla · 4 months

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The Best Kind of Stress Relief

A/N: @cevansbaby-dove It's really a quick in-n-out (😅) and I remember you mentioning that you wouldn't mind being choked by Jensen so *cough cough* here you go! 🤗 Hope you'll like it! 😈🤍

All mistakes are mine!

Warnings: 18+ONLY, language, unprotected PinV, choking, using tie as gag, rough sex, creampie (I am so bad with the warnings- A whole lot of smut that's what this is, so MDNI)

WC: ~1.5k

My Masterlist

You were standing outside of Felicia’s trailer, talking to her after the shooting had wrapped for the day while you waited for Jensen.

“I know it will get better, but lately it's just so hard for me to focus on working. I’ve tried meditating, relaxing baths, everything!” You shrugged defeatedly. “We even went camping last weekend.” You added, referring to yourself and Jensen.

Amusing grin appeared on her face. “You clearly did something wrong there if even that wasn’t relaxing for you.”

You laughed and shoved her playfully. “Stop! We really were just camping, you know?”

She lifted her hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. What I am saying though, is that you should’ve spent that weekend doing something else. Like doing him for example.”

You saw Jensen approaching you two with a serious face, killing the light mood you and Felicia had.

“Y/N, can we talk for a second?”

You started to worry. “Sure, babe.”

You got confused when he started to pull you back towards the set. “What’s up? Where are we going? Aren’t they closing it down already?”

His eyes sparkled mischievously when he looked back at you over his shoulder and grinned widely. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

You followed him through the maze of different rooms, until you finally arrived at the set of Bunker’s library, and Jensen pushed you to sit down in one of the chairs at the table. You eyed his moves curiously and tried to figure out his plans when he walked to the shelf and pulled one of Dean’s ties, he had worn earlier that day, out from between the books. “What are you doing?”

He ignored your question, threw the tie onto the table and pulled you up from the chair. You were now completely pinned between him and the table. “Oh, babe, what-!” Jensen cupped your cheek and kissed you, deepening it gradually until you were completely breathless.

“Sweetheart, work has been hard lately for you, hasn't it?” he whispered and pulled away from your lips. You nodded without a word, trying to catch your breath. His gaze shifted hungrily between your eyes and lips, as he brushed his thumb softly over your bottom lip.

“And you know that I can't let you take all that work stress home with you, right? It's just not healthy for you.” Jensen turned you around, so you were backed against his chest and you couldn't hold back a gasp at his sudden moves. He pushed aside your hair, revealing your neck and peppered kisses from under your ear along your shoulder.

“So what should I do about it? Fuck it out of you?” His voice was quiet and laced with desire, and you could already feel his erection pressing into your thighs. Deep moan escaped from the back of your throat, when he cupped one of your breasts.

Suddenly it dawned on you, what he had just said. “Wait, what? Right now? What if someone walks in here?” Jensen started to play with the hem of your shirt, teasingly sliding his fingers up your skin underneath it. With one hand flat on your stomach, the other one turned your chin towards him before he kissed you cravingly. “It's definitely risky, but isn't that part of the fun?”

His tongue slipped by your lips, claiming your mouth wholly. Only some desperate groans escaped you when he continued his attack on your mouth.

Without breaking your kiss, his hand moved down to open the zipper of your pants. “But we don't have to do anything, if you don't want to, just say stop, Y/N.” He added, knowing very well, that you won't say no when his fingers had already slipped into your underwear, where you were all wet and ready for him. You pulled away from his kiss and gasped too loudly. “No, Jensen! Don't you dare to..” he clasped one hand onto your mouth to shut you up. “Damnit, baby, you gotta keep your voice down a little bit or I’ll have to stop.” He growled into your ear and pulled away his hand to start pushing down your jeans and underwear. “You don't want me to do that, do you, sweetheart?” he asked when he moved up again and raised one of your freed legs onto the table to have better access to your pussy.

“No, please, Jay, I want you to-” he gave you a quick kiss. “I know, just a second.” He left you there standing for a second to get himself out of his pants. He spat into his hand to lube up his cock, even though you were drenched already. He came to stand behind you again and you could feel his erection sliding between your folds, but instead of pushing inside you, he took the tie from the table and folded it up. “Open up.” He brought it up to your lips. “So you wouldn't scream too loudly.” He added with a grin. You took the tie between your teeth, biting down on it hard when Jensen suddenly pushed himself in. “Mmm..mmhh.” He didn't even give you a chance to get used to him, but started pounding hard into you. You tried to keep yourself steady on the ground, but with one leg it was quite a challenge, and the table under you was too wide to hold on from the edges so you jolted forward with each of his moves.

As he continued pistoning into you, holding you in place with one hand on your shoulder, the other one closed around your throat, squeezing and pulling a deep guttural moan out of you. “Mnhmmck!” Jensen took it as a cry, and stopped moving and quickly released his hand from your neck. “Too much?” He asked, pulling the gag from you. “No…please I want…it harder.” You breathed heavily. He shoved the tie back and buried himself back into you. “Fuck, Y/N, you are just perfect, but we have to be quick now. Don't want them to start looking for us, do we?”

You shook your head. “Mmkh...mm…mmhms.” No words came out through the gag you had, but Jensen understood you perfectly and so your windpipe was closed off again. Your eyes closed in ecstasy, and you reached overhead behind you to find his hair to lock your fingers into.

The edges of your vision began to go white quickly from the air being cut off and Jensen's moves started to falter, letting you know he was near cumming. “Mm..fuck, Y/N, I'm almost close…but I want you to cum first, understand, baby?” He panted into your ear between his thrusts. “I want to feel you cumming all over my cock. I want you to remember this, when we're coming back to work tomorrow with Jared and Felicia and sit at this table. Just remember how I filled you up..”

You tried to moan, but even that wasn't possible with your throat closed off by his large hand, so you just tightened your grip in his hair, making Jensen groan as a result. He saw you were close to your climax and moved his hand from your neck to your mouth, knowing that with the first gasp of air you were going to fall off the edge.

You inhaled loudly through your nose and wanted to scream, but on top of the gag, his hand was also muffling all your cries, as he fucked you roughly through your orgasm. “Let it all out, baby..let it go..” he whispered into your ear, still moving fast in you, chasing after his own release.

Your whimpers started to die down as you were coming off your high. After a few last quick moves, Jensen pushed deep inside you, his cock throbbing hard as his cum covered your walls. “Fuck!” He leaned over you and searched for support from the table. Finally you pulled the tie out of your mouth. “Baby, that was so fucking perfect..” you whispered breathlessly. “But we gotta go now.”

Both of you got quickly dressed and searched for your way out, without being caught. You tried to composure yourself, not to seem suspicious, but you knew your flushed cheeks and breathlessness was not easy to hide.

“Where were you two? We've been waiting for ages!” Jared started to complain as soon as he saw you two approaching the car.

“You were not! Y/N and I just had to have a quick chat.” Jared threw a quick look at you as you and Jensen climbed into the backseat. “Yeah, right! And that couldn't wait until you get home, where you two live together? Alone? Not a single pair of eyes around?” Jared started teasing and Jensen wasn't having any of it.

“Shut up! Clif, let's just go.”

Jared looked over his shoulder to the backseat. “I don't know, Y/N, it looks like you two need to have another talk at home.” To this remark even Jensen bursted out laughing. “Oh, we will, don't you worry about that.” He chuckled and winked at you.

Taglist: @jackles010378 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94 @il0vebeingdelulu

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen x female!reader smut #jensen x female!reader #x you #jensen x y/n #jensen ross ackles #smut

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thatdogmagic · 1 year

Text

Remember this smug as hell post?

Well, keep it in mind.

I'm going to give some people here the benefit of the doubt and go into this post with the assumption that they genuinely don't know how fucking awful the Tumblr """"porn filters"""" are for images deemed - or reported by users as - 'NSFW.'

This is a rehash of everything I wrote out before, but it's going over all of it in one big post, because this issue with community labels moves well beyond debates over what is and isn't NSFW. There are doublestandards within doublestandards, and no way at all for artists and creators to know for sure if their post is going to get blacklisted.

We're not merely talking about the fact that these filters exist. We're talking about the fact that they are wildly inconsistent, and that reported images aren't seen initially by a person so much as an extremely stupid algorithm. That's why there's the option to say 'this ruling was made in error.'

There are literally no set guidelines for what qualifies as NSFW, and what doesn't, when it comes to nudity, and to what characters those guidelines actually apply. Staff rulings do not match up to one another. They legitimately do not make sense. You cannot divine how a ruling is going to end up, and it is infuriating that staff is jerking us around like this when the platform very clearly wanted artists like us back.

Not only that, they were, yes: that fucking smug about it. In case you forgot, that 'cheater' picture is talking about people who fled the NSFW ban specifically.

Examples follow:

Both of these images were caught by the filters, and then appealed. The first one was (visibly, as you can see) downgraded to Everyone, in spite of the character showing more secondary sex characteristics than the first (breast, visible nipple).

Similarly, a male character showing a pube fluff was left alone, even in spite of being cited in my appeal on the second image.

Last, there is, as noted, this readily available image of Felicia, that you can find by searching 'darkstalkers Felicia' on the search bar. Did people forget that she's bottomless, and those aren't panties?

Using fluff to cover junk is an age-old trick for characters like this. And it clearly isn't a problem with the male character.

Further, you can go through just about any archive and see a ton of images that were not subject to community labels, many of which are much more racy, and much more legitimately "NSFW."

So, yes, beyond the disgust of Tumblr staff treating any body like mine as filthy and inherently sexual in nature, this is also about a system that is arbitrary, penalizes artists for no good reason, and has deeply opaque standards. You never know when a piece of yours is going to run afoul of a bot, or what a staff ruling will ultimately be, or why the ruling is there in the first place.

And that's bullshit. If you think it's anything other than bullshit, you're being a contrarian ass. Especially since a forced label absolutely WILL kill your visibility, where compared to implementing the label yourself. It is punitive, it is punishing, and I will say again: it is completely unnecessary to jerk us around like this when the platform very clearly wanted us back.

And now that we are, we're back to being treated like garbage, constantly having to guess what the rules actually mean, how they apply, and to which sorts of bodies they apply, all while watching our viewcounts on contested posts eat ten kinds of shit.

tl;dr, do not talk to me about 'following rules' when the rules are so ill-defined as to be quite literally useless, to me, and to every other artist on this website.

#tumblr #community labels #content filters #artists on tumblr

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reidslovely · 7 months

Text

Love of Mine

Heeeey @hollandweather remember that request you sent me forever ago?? ii went with the mob!peter version ii hope you're good with that :)

Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Lots of fighting and yelling, happyish ending, angsty. Let me know if I missed anything cause I'm sure I did.

Kind of a sequel but not really to this

Pretty please read and reblog!! thanks friend

Freshly painted black nails contrasted against the soft cream color of the armchair cushion as she dug her nails into the fabric. Standing in the dimly lit office waiting for him to notice her, she stood like a haunting figure in front of him, simply waiting for an acknowledgment.

“Peter.” Her words came out soft, yet stern. Swallowing the angry lump in her throat as his eyebrows raised, and his chest fell.

“Yes baby?”

He spoke simply, not even lifting his head to acknowledge her. He was engrossed in whatever he was looking at some paper with a mugshot attached. Ever since the shootout that killed him Peter had been different. He came back different. Angerier, more cruel. Never to her, just others. She hadn’t been sure what happened, maybe it had given him time to reflect. Time to be angry at the cards he was dealt in life.

“Do you not..?” She fumbled over her words in her upset.

“It feels like you don’t care about..us anymore Peter.” There was a sad honesty in her voice. She wished she had been making it up, that it was all in her head. Peter threw himself into his work the moment he got better. He’d leave several times for days on end; not a single call to let her know he was okay or when he’d be home. It was unlike him.

He furrowed his brows, looking at her finally. “Of course I care, baby.”

Again, there's the distance in his voice. It feels rehearsed, almost like he’d been practicing this delivery for the months he’s been back. There were times where he didn’t seem himself, he was quick to anger and quick to jump. He and Harry having nearly had several physical altercations since being back. Felicia having gone ghost on them after she and Peter had it out over an action plan. His wife was feeling his anger, and it was nesting in her. She could try to nurse him back to his mentality before, she could settle his arguments with friends and colleagues. However, she could only handle him neglecting her for so long.

“Do you know what today is?” She began to wander around the office. Their wedding picture is sitting snugly on the bookcase in a gold frame. Both are much younger in the photo having gotten married straight out of high school.

“October 19th..wh- Oh, oh baby.”

For a moment her Peter was there, the realization washed over the room. She knew he felt like an idiot rethinking the day. She’d made his favorite breakfast, they showered together, and she’d even gone shopping and excitedly showed him everything she had gotten. She was now dressed in a purple slip dress she’d bought today.

He forgot their anniversary.

Peter stood up from his desk rushing to her. She felt exposed under his touch, pulling her face away as he grabbed her jaw in his calloused hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry baby.”

“It��s whatever Peter.” She backed away, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just wanted to know that you still cared and…well, I got my answer.” Angrily she stormed out of his office, slamming the door shut behind her. A photo of them falling off his decor table in the show of aggression, the frame bursting into dozens tiny pieces.

Peter followed behind her, his feet slamming against the hardwood of the stairs. “I don’t care! Is that what you’re saying right now?”

“That's what I said.” She yells back trying to slam their bedroom door in his face. Peter grabbed it, pushing it open. He stared at her in shock, standing there with his arms at his side. His wife glaring back at him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You don’t care about me or us anymore. All you care about is killing those people who hurt you. All you care about is work, what’s being moved in and what's being taken out.” She started pointing a finger at him. “This is the last fucking straw Peter. I’m fucking tired. I can’t keep fixing the things you fuck up because you are so blinded by rage. You are so fucking selfish. You forgot my birthday, and our wedding anniversary. Harry doesn’t even want to see you any fucking more because you are not yourself. I want Peter back not whatever fucking stranger crawled into your body while you were dying. I want my husband because you are not him, he was a good husband.”

Both her and Peter stared at one another. She knew she shouldn’t have said it.

Her anger echoed in the room, she expected him to fight back. She wanted him to fight back, yell, scream, let her know that he in some way cared. Instead he turned and looked at himself in the mirror and then down at his socked feet.

“So me proving I care about you, about Harry. About anything other than myself would mean I’d stop taking down the people who hurt me. I’d stop going after Li or Fisk’s guys who got together and planned to kill not only me but everything I cared about including you?”

He stared at her like she had five heads. Not knowing how to respond she rubbed her hands down her face. He was putting words in her mouth.

“Cool, cool yeah. I’ll stop, fuck I’ll step down from being the head of this organization. We can totally live a normal life not constantly looking over our shoulders.``

“You’re being mean, you’re putting words in my fucking mouth.” She warns. Peter takes a deep breath shaking his head as he looks down, something he did to keep himself from crying.

“I went to that warehouse to protect all of you. Do you understand that? Because if I didn’t go to them, they were gonna come to us. Now, I am cleaning up a mess I made that has put you all at risk. I’m..” Peter’s hands shook at his side, before coming up to rub his face aggressively. He dropped down to the floor sitting his back against the wall.

“I’m sorry I’m a bad husband, I haven’t been a good husband since that night and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you here, I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry that I put you in any danger by coming back. But as a good husband and as a good friend or boss I have to kill them.” He whispered to her, as she joined him on the floor.

“You have every right to be mad at me. I’m mad at myself. And this isn’t me guilt tripping you, this is me telling you that you’re right I haven’t been a good husband and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot your birthday and our anniversary and that I’ve been a total piece of shit.”

“I didn’t mean it. I just, I knew it would hurt your feelings and I wanted you to hurt like I did.”

Peter kissed her head, his hand cradling her cheek bringing her to his chest. She let out a soft sigh burying her head in his neck. “I just got caught up in keeping everyone safe that I forgot what I was protecting. I am so sorry for hurting you and doing anything that made you feel like I didn’t love you” He whispered in her hair, rubbing small circles on her back.

“I know. And I know I’ll forgive you for it, but can we start by at least having an anniversary night? It’s all I want, just you and me, no work or anything.”

“I’ll give you an anniversary week, how's that?” Peter bargains. “Make up for the missed birthday. We can go anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?” She smiles up at her husband, who gives her a loving look before kissing her cheek.

“Anywhere.” He confirms holding her closer. “I love you.” He assures her, pulling her legs over his thigh rocking her.

“I love you too.”

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #andrew garfield #tasm peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #peter parker x reader #mob peter parker x reader #mob!peter parker

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summerdiphylleia · 5 months

Text

The next right thing

Chapter 2: The Quarter Quell Announcement

Summary: The 74th Hunger Games were over, and Felicia ought to have anticipated how often she'd find herself pondering over what could've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

***********

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Felicia forced her eyes shut, waiting for the bangs that announced the death of the tributes to go off, but they never did. She flinched when the voice of a man echoed through the room instead.

“Stop!”

If Seneca Crane had been a smarter man, he would’ve kept quiet.

“Stop!” She heard the gamemaker shout once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.”

Felicia went still, as images of the District 12 tributes –victors, she corrected herself– embracing each other glided through the screen. She knew she ought to feel happy about it, surely all of the Capitol was celebrating, but Felicia couldn’t bring herself to share such joy. She was happy the tributes –victors– were alive, but she’d seen something more in their actions than simply two young people in love that could not survive without each other. She’d seen defiance. And she was sure her husband had seen it too. A daunting frown claimed her face, and her hands were closed into fists so tight she could barely feel her nails attempting to dig into the skin of her palms. Katniss Everdeen had defied the Capitol, and the Capitol had allowed it. Worse, it had rewarded it.

The television had gone black by the time she jumped from her seat, and started hurrying through the manor’s empty hallways. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lan was following her path. He moved like a cat, barely making any sound, but the man had been like a shadow to her for the most of twenty years, and took his job of protecting her very seriously. He was a tall man, surprisingly fit for someone who was around her age. More often than not a calculating scowl claimed his features; and she took pride in knowing that his rare smiles were reserved for her. She didn’t like thinking about what she’d do without him.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Felicia.” He warned her, taking up a vigilant stance just outside the room. It had been nothing but a whisper, but she had understood. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, her apprehension mirrored in his gaze, and she nodded, before moving forward.

Felicia walked into the sunroom, and found her husband tending to the roses. He was standing with his back towards her, but she could already tell he was livid. He stood rigid in his feet, as his arms worked stiffly against the flowers, occasionally cutting them with more force that was necessary.

She approached him, keeping a steady, dull pace. “Coriolanus?” She asked, calmly.

The President didn’t move at the sound of her voice, as if he had been expecting her already. He kept on trimming the roses, and a heavy silence filled the air between the two. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked, voice trembling just the slightest. He turned around, slightly taken aback by her question. It wasn’t usual at all for her to acknowledge such things, and he didn’t like it when she stepped out of his comfort zone. It wasn’t her place to question his actions. He let confusion show on his face for just a few seconds, before his lips split into a smile.

“Well, he had a very simple choice to make. I’m just going to present him with another very simple choice.” He shrugged, as he drew nearer her, while cleaning the pruning scissors on a cloth.

Felicia gulped, and shifted uncomfortably in her place. “And her?” She wondered if she was crossing a line by making such a question, a dangerous line. She’d always been so sure such a thing would never exist when it came to her, as she’d always spoken somewhat freely around her husband, but the look on the President’s face made her think otherwise.

She insisted that the Games were barbaric and maintained her stance on that. In return, he insisted that they were necessary and maintained his stance on that. It had always been like that. But never had someone from the districts dare to defy him in the way Katniss Everdeen just had. Or at least they hadn’t done so in front of the cameras, showcasing their actions to the whole of Panem.

“As long as she understands that what she’s done, she’s done for love, she should be no problem.” He said, throwing the scissors into a cushion. “You must be happy with how everything turned out.” He muttered, as he lifted his hand to gently stroke her cheek.

“I am,” she sighed, frozen by his touch, “two children get to live.”

“Hm, darling,” he chuckled, leaving a kiss on her temple, “you can be so naive sometimes.”

***********

The Games were left behind and the air started to cool, as Felicia eased into her usual routine once again. She wrote letters, attended charity events and couture fittings, helped Theodore with his Academy homework, bought unnecessary decoration for the mansion, visited her children at the hospital; hosted hollow, vacuous parties for Panem’s high society.

With the cold, her already aching arthritis got worse, and she was instructed by her medics to use a walking staff, to help her ease her sore ankles. But it only helped in making her feel impossibly old.

“Everyone’s going to make fun of me!” Felicia complained one night, in front of her family. She stood barefoot against the velvety rug, switching the cane from one hand to the other, playfully showing it off. Her two older children had come to the manor for a casual dinner earlier, and the five of them had moved onto the sitting room to enjoy some tea. Night had fallen terribly cold outside, but the interiors of the manor were warm and cosy, as it had been instructed that every fireplace within shall be lighted.

“You’re Panem’s First Lady,” Arabella laughed, “no one is going to make fun of you.” She remarked, as she sat next to Coriolanus on the sofa, with a cup of warm tea in her hand. Max and Arabella had been spending so much more time in the manor lately, and Felicia was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. Whether their newfound fondness for being with her stemmed from a sense of responsibility as she aged or a simple desire to visit her, she didn’t know. She chose to believe the latter.

“But surely everyone will think of me as an old bat,” she whined in a silly fashion, as Max walked towards her.

“I promise no one will think that”, he reassured her, while resting a gentle arm around her shoulders.

“Hm, I might.” Coriolanus sneered from his place on the couch, holding back a smile.

Felicia gasped, and theatrically put a hand against her chest, pretending to be utterly offended at his comment. Arabella grabbed a cushion and playfully hit him with it, “no you won’t!” She warned his father, as the two boys kept on cackling.

“Best thing about this staff, mom,” Theo explained, taking the walking stick from her hands, weighing it in his hands,“is that if anyone dares making such comments, you get to do this!” He dashed against his father, and repeatedly patted on him with it, acting as if he were hitting him.

The boy’s action managed to break Coriolanus’ stoic facade, and his laughter started to echo through the room alongside the rest of his family’s.

Scenes like that one repeated themselves in the months that followed, as snow stubbornly settled into the city, and life in the Capitol finally appeared to be returning back to normal. But Felicia heard the reports —information not meant for her ears, but the manor could be an awfully small place to keep such volatile secrets. Rebellions were happening all over the country; no amount of peacekeepers were enough to keep the insurrection in District 8 at bay, and District 11 was at the brink of following their lead.

Coriolanus refused to share such things with her, limiting his conversations with her to trivial matters, which had started to put a veil between the two. He kept on retreating into himself, and she noticed he was being more paranoid than ever; cameras had made their way into every room in the manor, their bedroom included. And, although she had no way of proving it, she was sure she’d also heard the distinct sound of jabberjays’ echoes around the gardens. Felicia couldn’t help but worry once again about having spoken out of turn after the Games.

She was settling into bed one night, later than usual, about to read for a while, when her husband walked into the room, coat still on, snowflakes only just melting into the fur. She hadn’t seen him in three days. It wasn’t usual of him to disappear like that.

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, and got out of bed as quickly as her wrists allowed her, to help him get out of his heavy clothes. She took his coat and scarf, and left them on the sofa right outside the crystal doors to their bedroom.

“Where were you?” She asked, out of breath, as she wrapped her hands around her chest. The manor wasn’t cold, but a chill had somehow still managed to run through her spine. He reached down towards her, and kissed her with a closed mouth. “You should go back to bed, dearest, it’s already late.” He gently pushed her aside, and strided towards the bed.

“But where were you, really?” She repeated herself, following his motion.

“District 12.” He uttered, pulling the bedding over. And by the way he said those words, Felicia knew she wasn’t allowed to ask any questions. She just nodded, pursing her lips, and let him embrace her, as she closed her eyes.

***********

Felicia wished for but one thing: to go to bed. Her feet hurt, her face felt too tight, and she was bored out of her mind. Yet, as the First Lady, her role at such events had but one purpose: to introduce people, excuse the President’s absence, and, most importantly, look radiant. At least she had managed the latter, or rather, her stylists had.

On that morning, a whole assembly of them had barged into her room to prepare her for the evening party. They had bathed her, coloured her hair, applied makeup to her face, and dressed her. Her stylist had chosen a metallic purple dress with an asymmetrical cut, paired with a golden undergown that stood out on her chest and highlighted her legs. Matching heels and shimmering makeup completed the look. Her hair was styled in a loose chignon adorned with golden accessories Tigris had once given her as a present. She knew her picture would be plastered all over the newspapers as the best–dressed of the evening.

“Ms. Cardew, may I have a dance with you?” Felicia heard a man’s voice behind her, as she sipped on what must’ve been her fifth glass of wine that night, but she paid no mind to it, it wasn’t directed to her, or at least she thought so. The music was too loud and the lights were too bright, her head had started to hurt and it was difficult to discern scenes on her whereabouts.

“Ms. Cardew?” She heard again, and seconds later she felt someone put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Felicia had but turned around that Lan was already on her side, discreetly putting himself between her and the stranger. She studied the man for a moment, and then exchanged subtle glances with the bodyguard. Lan left at once, and Felicia extended a hand towards the man in front of her.

Plutarch Heavensbee. A plump, middle–aged man, and frighteningly clever, maybe too much for his own sake.

“Ms. Cardew,” he repeated himself, leaving a polite kiss on her hand,“you look the epitome of grace in this sea of extravagance. I apologise for frightening you.”

“Mr. Heavensbee,” she smiled, “it’s me who should apologise; I didn’t realise you were speaking to me, I’m afraid it’s been years since I was last called by my maiden name.” Thirty eight years, to be precise.

He hummed in response. “Would you care to join me for a dance?” She really didn’t want to. The wine had started to make her feel light–headed, and her ankles were sore.

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Heavensbee.” She smiled, allowing him to take her a few steps down into the dancing floor. People moved around, making space for them, and the cameras that followed.

Felicia rested one hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her back, and they started to glide across the room, matching their steps with the music.

“I thought that you could do with some invigorating conversation.” He leaned towards her, to avoid the cameras and people around from hearing their conversation.

“Well you know what a rare thing that can be here in the Capitol.” She replied in a murmur, with a cheeky smile directed towards the cameras. “I hear you’re to be our new Gamemaker.”

“Ah, news travel fast in the Capitol,” he smirked, “yes, I’ve been appointed as the new Head Gamemaker.”

“A very prestigious position,” she smiled, as he made her twirl, “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

Plutarch nodded with a meekly gesture, turning the corners of his lips downwards. “Thank you, Felicia. It's a role that demands creativity and innovation, wouldn't you say?” He added, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed,” she agreed, as she relished in the small amount of bravery the alcohol had given her, and added “although I must admit, the… nature of such creativity often leaves me conflicted.”

The man simply stared at her, with an implacable expression on his face, making it difficult for Felicia to assert how he felt about her statement.

“The Games are a spectacle, Felicia, but the true spectacle often lies in the shadows. Oh? It's all a matter of perspective, really.” He stated, with an esoteric look on his face. She was about to comment on it, but he interrupted her. “I’ve recently met your two oldest children.”

“You have?” Felicia asked, slightly taken aback. “And why is that?”

“I had to spend a couple of days at the hospital a handful of weeks ago, nothing too serious luckily. Very bright children indeed. I can see they’ve inherited your intelligence—

“Oh Mr. Heavensbee,” Felicia chuckled, feigning modesty ,“you’re being too—

“And defiance.” He cut her off, voice barely audible, as he had leaned in towards her so much, his mouth brushed her cheek.

Felicia went still. “What…?” She began to ask, but they were interrupted.

“Plutarch Heavesbee!” The voice of a woman resounded in her ears, even above the music. She was accompanied by two other people. Felicia, who was still hesitating on how to feel about Plutarch’s statement, almost jumped at the sight of them.

“Katniss. Peeta.” The flashy woman clamoured. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker. Successor to Seneca Crane.”

“That’s a tough act to follow.” The young man commented, shaking Plutarch’s hand.

“Peeta!”

Plutarch just laughed, as he seemed to have found the comment amusing rather than somewhat unpleasant. “May I introduce you to Felicia Snow?” He said, pointing towards her.

“Mrs. Snow,” The woman said, with a modest curtsy, “you look radiant, as always.”

“Thank you, Euphemia, you look very lovely yourself. It’s a pleasure meeting you both.” Felicia added, nervously staring at the two teenagers, who returned a polite smile and shook her hand. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you, we are very happy about it.” Peeta answered, as a grin claimed all of his features. How intriguing. He genuinely seemed happy about it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, with a soft smile, “they show you all the time on the television, you’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Oh,” she giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth, in a flustered fashion, “well, my stylists are very good at their jobs. How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s excessive.” Katniss was quick to answer, her voice steady.

Felicia smiled graciously, acknowledging the tension between herself and Katniss. The dance floor seemed to tighten around them, as they got caught between the profligacy of the Capitol and the stark reality of the Games.

“The Capitol has its own way of celebrating, doesn’t it? But I agree, the extravagance can be a little overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming is an understatement.” The girl answered, bluntly, eyes staring into Felicia’s.

“What Katniss means,” Peeta was quick intervene, “well, it is a bit much, but make it any simpler and you might as well deprive the Capitol of all its fun, right?”

Katniss shot him a quick side–eye, and then forced a smile on her face, turning towards her once again. Felicia offered her a weak smile. She could tell the girl didn’t like her, and Felicia understood that. She privately boasted about not enjoying Games, commended herself on being –What, exactly? Morally superior to the rest?– and yet had never actively acted against them, except for complaining. Nothing but sanctimonious bluff. She was in no way better than the rest; no different than those gaudy, self–absorbed, fake individuals she so very bragged about not tolerating. I am no better than my husband.

Felicia realised that she wouldn’t be able to keep on feigning a smile in her face for that much longer, and studied the room around her. There were many other people lingering around them, waiting to talk to the victors, staring with jealousy at her. She briskly made her excuses, claiming she was expected to make some introductions, and left.

She tried walking in a straight line through the path she knew would eventually lead to her room, but such an action was proving difficult with the amounts of alcohol she had in her blood. Her movements were marked by an unsteady sway, and more than once, she stumbled over her own feet, struggling to maintain her balance.

Lan found her before she could make a spectacle of herself, discreetly grabbing her by the waist, and quickly guided her away from the party. He didn’t comment on her uncharacteristic drunkenness, and they settled instead for a calm stroll, thankful that the ear–splitting noises from the party were nothing but a muffled sound at that point.

Minutes into their walk she looked up towards him, and sullenly leaned into him. “They hate me you know,” she whispered, lips turning into a pout and eyes glossy, as he led her through the empty hallways of the manor, “Katniss and Peeta.”

But voicing such thoughts didn’t bring her any solace; she didn’t get to complain that her actions, or rather the lack of them, had had consequences. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop from falling into her cheeks.

“They don’t hate you.” Lan comforted her, eyes softening. She looked up towards him, locking her gaze on his. He had such a gentle stare; warm, soft watercolour eyes that reminded her of the sea. She wondered if he ever missed the ocean, if he ever missed his district. District 4. They weren’t strangers to the Games over there either. She wondered how much he’d suffered by her actions, surely he’d been affected by the Games at some point. No one could escape from that, her husband made sure of it.

“Yes they do,” she whimpered, lips quivering, clumsily wiping the tears on her face, “and they have every reason for doing so.”

***********

Winter weaved into spring, and the Capitol once again started buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Games. Games unlike any other, for that year marked the 75th Hunger Games, the most anticipated Quarter Quell. It turned the citizens crazy, which was the ultimate goal Felicia supposed, through the introduction of twists and challenges that made each iteration unforgettable. They served as a reminder of the Capitol’s control and a testament to its capacity for innovation in the pursuit of entertainment.

Felicia started to see Plutarch Heavensbee more often than not around the manor, holding private, clandestine discussions with her husband. The significance of these meetings left Coriolanus with scarce time for her, reducing their exchanges to the necessities, often focused on their children. He no longer slept in their shared bedroom, except when his personal needs dictated otherwise. Oddly enough, she always welcomed him. It felt good to be desired.

She was less than excited when Coriolanus announced she was expected at the presentation of the Quarter Quell, but as always she simply forced an amicable smile into her face and waded through the charade. Standing once again before the entirety of the Capitol, Felicia steeled herself for the announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.

“...and now on this,” her husband spoke to the microphone, standing in the atrium above the Avenue of the Tributes, “the 75th Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol.”

A most imperceptible frown appeared in Felicia’s forehead, puzzled by such remark. He wouldn’t.

“On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.” He declared, as his lips turned into a very subtle smile. Gasps born from indignation erupted from the crowds, and for the first time in all her years as the First Lady, Felicia's façade crumbled. Her eyes widened, and she brusquely turned her head towards the President. Though her lack of composure lasted but a moment, she knew he would have noticed. “Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or situation…” She could hear Coriolanus still talking, but it felt as if he were speaking from a distant, muffled place.

She fled to her bedroom as promptly as she was allowed, hunted by the screams of Cato under the mutts.

***********

“This is your doing, and the consequences shall rest upon your shoulders.”

No, she kept on shaking her head, as tears fell on her cheeks, none of this would've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

***********

I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it

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jedijesi · 5 months

Text

Caught in the Cats Web Chapter 13

Miguel O'Hara x Felicia Hardy! Reader

Previous Chapter 🕸️ Series Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, Injuries

Word Count: 3.8K

Chapter Summary: Felicia and Miguel hide from assassins on her Earth and embrace a day of normalcy.

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

A/N: All art goes to the original artist! Enjoy some calm before the storm.

New York Earth-194

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room as Miguel and Felicia began to stir from their slumber. As they gradually awakened, their eyes met, and a gentle smile passed between them. The soft sheets clung to their bodies, offering a comforting embrace that made it difficult to leave the cozy haven of their bed.

Stretching lazily, Miguel’s hand gently caresses her cheek. He gently pulls her in to exchange a tender kiss, their lips moving in perfect synchrony.

“Buenos dias, sleepyhead,” Miguel whispered against her lips.

“Good morning, my handsome spider.” Felicia smiles, pulling back to hide her face in the warmth of his chest.

Feeling Miguel slightly shift to get up, Felicia used whatever strength she had in the early morning to stiffen her hand on his torso, keeping him from moving. Miguel let out a long exasperated sigh and smirked at her antics of trying to keep him close to her.

Miguel untucks his arm from underneath, now wrapping it around her shoulder so he can stroke her arms which lay haphazardly across his torso.

“Are you comfortable, Hermosa?” He asks, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Mmhmm very,” her voice was sleepy. A small smile plays on his lips as he admires the serenity that washes over her face. "I can feel you staring at me," Felicia whispers, her eyes still closed. Sensing her desire, Miguel reaches out and gently takes her hand in his, guiding it to his face. Her fingertips graze his cheek, and she can sense the contours of his features even with her eyes shut.

Savoring the intimate moment, Felicia brings her thumb up to his face, stroking his cheek, tracing the lines and curves that define his face. Slowly, Miguel guides her hand to his mouth, his lips tenderly brushing against each delicate curve and outline that adorns her hand and wrist.

“My big teddy bear,” she says with a grin, looking into his sparkling eyes.

Miguel gently pulled her arm to wrap around his neck, careful of her injured torso that followed suit. He then takes his hand to reach under her neck tilting her head up to meet his lips in a deep compassionate kiss. They break apart only for a second before Miguel mutters on her lips, “And you’re the only one who’s ever gonna see me like this.”

Felicia tucks herself into his chest, pulling the sheets up to cover half of her face.

“Mmm fine by me. I like this part of you.” Her voice muffled between his pecs.

“I can’t remember the last time I felt so-“

Felicia lifts her head from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

“So what?”

“So peaceful.”

Her expression then shifts to concern, “Miguel-”

“Felicia.”

“When was the last time you had a break?”

Miguel blinked, eyes darting around the ceiling trying to think of the last time he did have a break, or a day off for that matter. “When was the last time we had a date?”

Felicia frowns, “You still worked that day.” Miguel’s mind searches his memory for a minute, trying to pinpoint another day. “Exactly what I thought. I’m asking LYLA.”

“No do not- why are you calling-”

“Shush” Felicia places a finger on his lips, reaching around to press the button on her watch that rests on the nightstand.

Suddenly, LYLA’s form appears in the bedroom. “You are decent right?!” she quickly covers her eyes with her hands in fear.

Felicia rolls her eyes at the AI, “Yes! We are decent otherwise we wouldn't call you.”

“Oh, well ok!” She uncovers her eyes, immediately returning to her bright bubbly spirit. “What do ya need?” she happily beams.

“LYLA has Miguel ever had a day off or any kind of break from working?”

“HA ya right! No, I’ve never been around to see it. Jess has been harboring him for a long time to take a break from working. But he always comes back to work! And then- and I mean- I mean he always comes back to work with that grumpy I’m gonna kill someone today look on his face it scares a lot of people-”

“Thank you LYLA, as always,” Miguel grumbles out.

“LYLA please silence all notifications for Miguel unless it’s an emergency,” Felicia smirks, gazing into Miguel’s annoyed eyes.

“My pleasure boss!” She fades off with a wink.

Miguel sits upright, “Boss?! Since when did you become a boss to the AI I created?”

“Well… I am the most talented Spider-person the Spider Society has… plus I’m dating the boss.” She moves to sit up, feeling the sting of her healing wound. Slowly, she repositions herself so she now straddles his waist. “Listen, we need to keep you safe, and I need to heal. I don’t care how long it takes, but that means you are taking a break!” She huffs out.

Miguel sighs a short “fine”, causing Felicia to let out a small cheer and clap her hands enthusiastically.

“What do you want to do, handsome? Anything you want!”

He rubs her legs in thought and says in a low voice, “There are a few things that I’ve been thinking of doing.” He leans forward, his lips hovering over hers, with a giant smirk plastered on his face.

“Not that.” She lightly pecks him on the lips then brings her hand up to stroke his messy hair.

“You feeling up for a walk?” Miguel inquires, massaging her hips.

Felicia tilts her head, mentally assessing her wound. “A slow one, maybe. Why?”

“How do you feel about showing me around a bit?”

She arches his brow at her idea, “Show you New York? It’s New York, haven't you seen like a thousand?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “I’ve fought in countless New Yorks, but I’ve never… experienced it.”

“Ok then, I’ll show you around.” She says with a soft smile.

“Now can I have my kiss, Hermosa?”

Felicia chuckles and nods, “Yes you may,” placing her lips onto his. He reciprocates hungrily, running a hand up her thigh, and gently squeezing her bottom. After a few moments, they reluctantly untangled themselves from the sheets, their bodies intertwined until the very last moment.

Miguel helped Felicia stand from the bed before they made their way to the kitchen, hand in hand. “What do you wanna eat this morning, eggs?” Felicia asked as she looked around the fridge, grabbing some cheese and butter, as well as some fresh fruit.

“Aye! Mí vida!” Miguel scolds, ushering the woman away from the fridge and to the stool on the island. “You are not allowed to cook! Rest.” He says, placing a kiss on her forehead before returning to the refrigerator.

Felicia's eyes followed Miguel affectionately as he gathered ingredients and set up a fresh pot of coffee. The care and attention he put into each step resonated with her, a stark contrast to the hustle of her life. The last time someone took care of her like this was when her father was alive, more than fifteen years ago. Her body filled with the warmth of nostalgia, remembering the way her father would make her just about anything she wanted for breakfast.

As the eggs sizzled in the pan, the aroma of coffee filled the air, creating a comforting atmosphere in the kitchen. The two of them engaged in playful banter, their laughter intertwining to form a delightful symphony that momentarily drowned out the chaotic noise of the world outside. In those precious moments, the simple act of sharing a meal became a sanctuary, a refuge from the complexities of their superhero lives.

With breakfast now ready, Miguel gracefully carried their plates to the sunlit dining table. Gently, he lifted Felicia, placing her in her seat. Taking his place across from her, their eyes met. They embraced the rare moment, enjoying the peace and normalcy. The sun streaming through the window painted a gentle glow on the scene, making their shared breakfast feel like a timeless moment suspended amid their bustling lives.

“When’s the last time you cut your hair?” Felicia asked, her lips curling in a smile as she a forkfull of eggs into her mouth.

Miguel stared at his plate, taking a moment to process the question. “Not sure. Why do you ask?”

“Can I cut it for you sometime?”

“...Sure? Do you not like my hair or something?”

Felicia abruptly dropped her fork onto her empty plate and leaned forward, “Are you kidding I love your hair, it’s one of my favorite things about you! I’m just offering to cut it for you when it gets too long for you, that's all. Gives me a chance to play with your hair.”

“Is that so…” Miguel stared at Felicia with a beaming smile. “What else do you like about me chica linda?” He hums.

“Ohh well let’s seeeee.” She sing-songed to tease him.

Felicia smirked, savoring the last bite of her meal before elegantly rising from her chair. She carried her empty plate to the sink. The clink of plates and the sound of running water sounded as Miguel observed her with a teasing smirk, waiting for her to come up with a witty response.

“I like your butt, it’s very firm.” She nods. “Oh, I like your wide shoulders and your facial features, aaanndd-”

“Aaaannnd what else?” He says, rising from her seat and stalking up behind her, pressing his chest against her back, barricading her against the sink. He lowers his head to place small kisses along her neck.

“Aannndd you’re an incredible leader.”

He immediately pulls away from her neck, body stiff in shock as he looks down at the top of her head, dumbfounded. “There is nothing else that you like about me?”

Felicia dumbly shakes her head, as if she’s lost for words. She turns around to face him, an innocent smile on her face. As soon as she looks up at his face, she immediately breaks character and starts laughing, covering her mouth as she lets out a snort. Miguel stands in front of her, hands on his hips as his face turns red in frustration.

“Awww poor baby, I’m sorry I am.” Felicia settles down her laughing by wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing herself tightly against him. His stance is unwavering, shoulders stuck in place as he ignores her pleading stares.

After a moment she smirks against his chest, before reaching a hand down to gently run over the bulge in his boxers. “I’m sorry, baby, I’ll say it, I’ll say it.” She reaches up on her tiptoes, pressing kisses on his cheek and neck, before whispering, against his lips, ‘Baby, I love your giant fucking cock.”

Miguel’s facade breaks down as he shakes his head and leans in for a kiss. He pulls her into him, pressing his hands on the small of her back as he whispers in her ear a sarcastic “Thanks”

Felicia finally settles down, removing her arms from around his waist, and begins to exit the kitchen, still maintaining eye contact with Miguel as she leaves. “I’m gonna go take a shower before we leave.” She says with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Felicia turned the corner and headed towards the bathroom, where Miguel followed closely behind. He knew she could shower by herself, but that protective side of him couldn’t help but worry. The sound of running water filled the bathroom as she stepped into the shower, her body enveloped by the warm drops of water sliding down her body.

She wipes the droplets of water from her eyes, and she turns to find a very naked Miguel outside of the shower door. “Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, please do.” She purrs.

Miguel stepped into the shower, the warmth of the water cascading down his body as he carefully began to remove the bandages that concealed the aftermath of the attack. The shower echoed with the soft hiss of pain as her stab wound met the warmth of the water.

Felicia, resilient yet vulnerable, couldn't stifle the discomfort, and Miguel couldn't help but whisper a series of apologies, each word heavy with remorse. His eyes reflected a mix of concern and guilt as he navigated the delicate process, his touch gentle yet cautious.

Underneath the gentle spray, they washed away the remnants of sleep, their hands moving languidly over each other's skin. The water cascaded down their bodies, washing away any lingering tension, leaving only a deep intimacy and connection.

As the steam filled the bathroom, their lips met in a tender kiss, their bodies pressed close together. In the shower's embrace, Miguel and Felicia found solace and passion, the water serving as a conduit for their shared desires. Their movements were slow and deliberate, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, a symphony of lust and pleasure, whispering promises to keep each other safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dressed for the winter weather of New York, Miguel and Felicia strolled hand in hand through the halls of her building until they reached the elegant lobby. The opulent architecture of the lobby captivated Miguel's eyes, and he couldn't help but appreciate the grandeur surrounding them.

"Good morning, Miss Hardy," a uniformed man greeted with a respectful nod.

"Good morning, Tom," Felicia replied, returning the nod.

"Good morning, Miss Hardy," A receptionist, chimed in.

"Good morning, Silvia," Felicia greeted with a friendly smile.

The pattern repeated as they encountered more staff members, surprising Miguel.

"Good morning, Miss Hardy."

"Good morning, Jun."

"Good morning, Miss Hardy."

"Good morning, Zara."

Miguel observed the genuine warmth and respect with which the hotel staff greeted Felicia. It was evident that she held a special place in their hearts, and the atmosphere around her reflected a blend of familiarity and mutual admiration.

“Wow,” Miguel said as they made their way to the large doors. “Do you know everyone that works here?”

“Mmhmm,” She hums with a nod. “I’ve lived here most my life.”

The doormen opened the grand doors, ushering the couple into the bustling chaos of New York City. Miguel's arm instinctively tightened protectively around Felicia as he guided her down the steps to the busy sidewalk. Once they reached the bustling street, Miguel turned to look at Felicia's building.

His eyes widened in recognition. "Holy shit, you live in The Plaza?!"

"Yeah," she replied nonchalantly. "I thought you knew that."

"I was too nervous about our date to study the building," he shrugged. "How many paintings and jewels have you stolen to afford a penthouse in the Plaza?"

Felicia smiled, her gaze shifting upward to the grand architecture of the hotel. "It's my daddy's," she revealed.

Miguel's eyes widened in surprise. Felicia had never mentioned her family before. "Go on," he urged, eager to learn more about her and the world she came from.

Her gaze shifted looking up at the glistening buildings before closing her eyes, allowing the memories to flood back, taking her to a time when life was simpler.

17 Years Ago…

The little white-haired girl sat in the window bed, the soft glow of the adjacent building lights casting a cool ambiance in her room. Moonlight danced on her shimmering hair as she played with the strands, creating a mesmerizing dance of silver.

A distant symphony of sirens echoed through the night, harmonizing with the hum of the city. Each wail was a lullaby, a comforting melody that accompanied her moments of solitude.

Suddenly, a silhouette, as dark as the night itself, swung past her window. The little girl's eyes widened in delight, the anticipation written on her face. In an instant, she abandoned her perch, the cool floor beneath her feet forgotten as she raced down the hall, guided by the echoes of excitement.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed with unbridled joy, as the figure crawled into the window. She threw herself into the waiting arms of her father, giving his neck a big squeeze.

“Felicia, what are you doing up?” Walter Hardy playfully scolded, trying to maintain an air of sternness, but his eyes betrayed the warmth of a father's love. Felicia, however, was undeterred by his attempts at seriousness, focused only on the promise of surprises concealed in the bag he carried.

“What did you bring me?” she persisted, her curiosity and excitement gleaming in her eyes as her small hand reached for the bag.

Walter, her father, continued the charade, his arm playfully evading her grasp. “Ah, ah, ah!” he chided, his tone a mixture of mock severity and amusement. “What makes you think I brought you anything, huh?”

Felicia responded with a mischievous smirk, sensing the playful dance between father and daughter that was about to unfold. "Cause I know you love me," she teased, her words laced with playful confidence.

Walter rolled his eyes as he ran his fingers over the black and white streaks of his hair, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Spoiled, daddy's girl," he said with a chuckle, as he unholstered his weapons.

Felicia batted her eyes, her legs swinging in anticipation. "So… Do you love me?"

"How could I not?" Walter smiled with the warmth of a father's love as he presented the all-white Coach backpack to the little girl.

Felicia's cheer echoed with delight as she cradled the elegant backpack in her hands. "It's beautiful, thank you, Daddy!" she exclaimed, her joy radiating from her as she leaped into his waiting arms.

"You better get better grades with that backpack," Walter teased.

Felicia smiled, her affectionate gaze meeting her father's as she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, the bristles of his salt-and-pepper beard brushing against her lips. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered.

Today…

“You must have been close with your dad,” Miguel says as he ups her back.

“He was my best friend.” Felicia smiles at the memory as the two stroll down the bustling street. “Granted, I didn’t have any friends growing up.” She shrugs as he leans down, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The city's vibrant energy surrounded them, as skyscrapers reached towards the heavens and the sounds of honking taxis and chattering pedestrians filled the air. The cool winter breeze swept through the streets, sending a chill through them.

Felicia glanced up at Miguel, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, Mr. Smooth Talker, what’d you wanna do?"

Miguel grinned, playfully squeezing her hand. "Well, my enchanting partner in crime, I thought we just walked? And maybe go somewhere I heard about that I think you have on your Earth.” He looks her up and down with his eyes. “How does that sound?"

"Sounds like the perfect day to me.” Felicia's cheeks were warm, a playful glimmer in her eyes.

They continued their stroll, the city's rhythm guiding their steps, helping Felicia’s body to acclimate back to normal. They passed street performers, their music filling the air, and colorful vendors selling their creations on the sidewalks. The sights and sounds of New York painted a vibrant backdrop to their conversation. As they turned a corner, a street artist caught Felicia’s attention, creating an intricate mural on a brick wall. She paused, marveling at the artist's skill, her and Miguel’s fingers entwined.

Miguel's gaze lingered on Felicia, his voice filled with admiration. "You like that?”

Felicia still awestruck at the artist’s creation, only nodded her head in reply. Miguel chuckled at her response, before pulling her by the hand to continue down the street.

“Where are we going?” Felicia stumbled, being dragged by Miguel’s hand through the swarms of people.

“You’ll see.” he smiles.

When they approach a corner Miguel quickly spins around to stand directly in front of Felicia, blocking her line sight.

“Whatcha doin’ Migs?”

“Close your eyes, and don’t open until I tell you.”

“Okayyy,” Felicia reluctantly accepted whatever plan Miguel had conjured up, covering her eyes with both her hands.

Miguel guided Felicia through the entrance, his hand gently resting on the small of her back. As they stepped inside, a grand atrium unfolded before them, adorned with soaring ceilings and elegant marble columns. The building itself boasted an architectural marvel—an intricate combination of sleek glass panels and steel beams, allowing natural light to cascade into the space and illuminate the artworks within.

Felicia could sense the air of sophistication that permeated the atmosphere. The soft echoes of hushed conversations mingled with the faint melody of classical music playing in the background. The museum was a sanctuary of creativity, a haven for the masterpieces of renowned artists from around the world.

Miguel watched Felicia closely, a smile playing on his lips as he observed her eyes widening behind her closed lids. He knew she had a deep appreciation for art, and he couldn't wait to witness her reaction when they finally reached their destination.

"Okay, open them now," Miguel whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

Felicia slowly unveiled her eyes, her gaze sweeping across the gallery ahead. She found herself standing in front of a breathtaking painting, its vibrant colors and meticulous brushstrokes capturing her attention. She gasped, her hand instinctively reaching out to touch the invisible emotions that seemed to emanate from the canvas.

"Migs, this... this is incredible," she stammered, her voice betraying her awe. "How did you know I would love this?"

Miguel grinned, his eyes fixed on Felicia's enraptured expression. "I've been paying attention, Felicia. Plus not to mention you used to steal this stuff for a living. But mostly I just wanted to see the look on your face when you see it all in one big place.”

Felicia steps away from Miguel for a split second, admiring her surroundings and the numerous rooms and hallways that possessed a different treasure.

He tentatively asked, “Are you happy?”

She quickly whips her head to look at him before saying, “Of course I’m happy, I have the best boyfriend in the world.

As they continued their journey through the museum, Miguel reveled in each moment, watching Felicia's fascination with the art that adorned the walls. He cherished the way her eyes sparkled, the way her fingers traced the contours of sculptures and the way her laughter resonated within the sacred halls of creativity.

After a few hours, they finished the tour of the museum, before exiting. They resumed their walk, the city providing a backdrop to their playful banter. They shared stories and jokes, even the occasional spider gossip, their voices intertwining like the streets they walked upon.

As they reached Central Park, Miguel pulled Felicia into his arms, spinning her around in a joyful dance. Their laughter echoed through the trees, blending with the sounds of nature.

Miguel looked into Felicia's eyes, a tender smile gracing his lips. “Thank you for today, Hermosa.”

Felicia's eyes sparkled, her voice filled with affection. “You’re welcome Migs, you deserve it.” You make every moment an adventure."

Hand in hand, they continued their exploration of the city, their laughter, and flirty remarks carried on the wind. In that moment, New York City became their playground, a canvas on which their love story unfolded, one flirty remark at a time.

Chapter 14

A/N: I know it's been a week already, but now that Thanksgiving is over we are back to our regularly scheduled fics!

Taglist: @leahnicole1219 @oscarissac2099 @www-interludeshadow-com

#jedi jesi #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #stclairesplace #miguel ohara x female reader #miguel x reader #felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #spider-man x black cat #spider man x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spider man 2099 x reader #spider man x felicia hardy #miguel ohara smut #spider man 2099 #spider-man x reader

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thebisexualdogdad · 11 months

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Could you do a black cat x male reader? Like black cat sees someone flirting with him and gets jealous but they aren’t together yet so she brushes it off

Combining with the request: Felicia Hardy x gn! Reader? Where we catch her stealing a jewel or something

Danielle Rose Russell used as a fancast

Felicia Hardy x GN!Reader (masc leaning but no pronouns used)

Felicia Hardy always got what she wanted and what she wanted from you was your family's priceless jewels.

She knew this was going to be a long con, spending the better part of a year playing dress up pretending to be one of Manhattan's most coveted socialites while slowly getting closer and closer to her prize.

She clawed her way into your inner circle, joining you at exclusive wine tastings and days out on your yacht.

Everything was going to plan although somewhere along the way she ended up falling for you.

You weren't like the pretentious pricks she was used to, when you spoke to her you genuinely listened to what she had to say and you never once made any attempts at unwanted advances onto her.

Was she starting to regret her scheme?

She showed up to a party at your mansion in an extravagant black dress that had everyone's eyes on her, including yours.

"Felicia, so happy you made it," you smile, handing her a glass of wine, "and might I add you look absolutely beautiful."

Why did that give her butterflies in the pit of her stomach?

"Thank you Y/N, you look quite handsome tonight as well in that suit you're sporting," she replies quickly downing the glass of wine to calm her nerves.

"Bad day?" You chuckle.

"Something like that, how are you?" She says looking around for any server supplying alcohol.

"It's never a bad day when I'm with you," you state.

She was definitely going to need more wine.

The night goes on and while you would much rather be spending it with Felicia you do your due diligence talking with as many of your guests as you could.

Felicia is completely zoned out of her conversation with some creep stock broker terribly hitting on her with her attention solely on you… and the girl you're laughing with.

She thinks her name is Vanessa, she's seen her at some parties before, never spoken to her before she's noticed the way she looks at you.

This is a new feeling for her, is this what it feels like to be jealous?

Felicia huffs when you lean in close to whisper something in Vanessa's ear, the heist was now back on and in full swing.

She doesn't even bother exiting the conversation with the stock broker with some polite goodbye; she just walks away leaving him confused and his equally douchey friends laughing at him.

You see Felicia heading towards the set of stairs the guests are roped off from that lead up to the bedrooms and you excuse yourself from Vanessa to follow her.

Upstairs Felicia easily finds the safe behind a painting in your private study containing your family's jewels which she canvassed out multiple times on her previous visits to your residency.

She cracks the safe but is shocked to find nothing inside.

"Looking for something?"

Felicia turns around to see you standing in the doorway with a grin.

"Y/N I-" she starts.

"Am a world class thief? Yes I know," you say approaching her.

"How long have you known?" She asks.

"A while, I don't just let anyone into my inner circle, I do my research so I know exactly how all these rich assholes want to use me to make themselves richer," you explain.

"If you knew I wanted to steal from you, why did you let me in?"

"Because you're not like them Felicia, you're actually interesting and way smarter than any of those so called intellects down there. I put the jewels in a secure safety deposit box months ago, I've been waiting for the day I'd find you up here," you tell her.

"So you were playing the long con too I see," she says.

"And it was well worth the wait," you tease, getting closer to her, "did you finally snap because of Vanessa?"

Felicia gulps, your faces only inches from each other.

"She's just a family friend, we've known each other since we were three but I do enjoy knowing she made you jealous," you tease.

"This isn't how this was supposed to happen," Felicia mutters.

"Which part? The part where you steal my jewels or the part where I finally kiss you," you ask confidently which turns her on even more.

"Both."

You laugh and pin her to your desk, roughly kissing her.

She hops up onto your desk, wrapping her legs around your waist and pushing your suit jacket off of your shoulders.

You may have been busy exploring each other's bodies but Felicia was already thinking of a plan to find this safety deposit box you mentioned and you were already thinking of where to hide the jewels next.

This was a con the two of you were definitely in for the long run.

#marvel imagine #felicia hardy imagine #felicia hardy x reader #x gender neutral reader #fic

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noellie-writes217 · 4 months

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Proposition (Pt 1)

Pairing: mcu!spiderman x blackcat

Warnings: post nwh, lonely Peter Parker, alterations to canon comics, mature themes, violence, mentions of death, maybe smut? Minors dni

Summary: after infiltrating the avengers records, Felicia finds out Spider-Man’s identity after the memory wipe, and offers to help him in exchange for…

“Fucking hell!” Peter groans as he enters his apartment through the window. He crawls over to his freezer to get something to use as an ice pack. He sets it on the counter and shoots a web to turn on the light and pulls off his mask with a sigh. He flinches once he hears an unfamiliar voice. “You know you really should think about getting a better lock for your door… or at least a deadbolt. It was way too easy to get in here.”

The Intruder was a woman with white hair in all black. She had a mask on (which barely concealed anything— in Peter’s opinion at least).

“Who the hell are you?” As she stood up he shot a web at one hand to keep her where she sat but it ricocheted and got his hand on the fridge. “Struggling with your webs, Parker?” He clenched his jaw.

“Just the only person who really knows who you are… but don’t worry; I won’t tell.” She walked to him and slid one finger along his jawline.

“What do you want?” She spun around to grab the pack of frozen vegetables and wrapped it in a towel, afterwards turning to get a rag and running it under cold water. “How do you know where everything is?” Peter asked. She shrugs, “I’ve been here for a while, a few porn videos worth- not that I’ve been watching porn! That would be totally unladylike.” She starts to ramble, admittedly, Peter thinks it’s cute.

She shakes her head and gets back to what she was originally talking about, “That’s not why I came here— look, I know who you are. Peter Parker: attended Midtown High, orphaned and raised by his aunt May who recently passed— my condolences, by the way, she seemed amazing— you also are extremely intelligent, inventive, kinda nerdy, thinks of classic movies as old, mentored by Tony Stark, asked to join the Avengers at only 15– somehow Tony wasn’t charged with child endangerment— but refused the offer, you’re also the primary reason Tony Stark agreed to help the Avengers ‘unblip’ everyone, but most importantly: you are Spiderman.”

Peter’s mind spins, “how do you know that?” Strange casted the spell only a few months ago, but there’s no way she could have figured out his identity that quickly. “Does that really matter?” She tilts her chin. “Yes!”

Peter runs his had through his hair with a sigh, “Sorry… I just… How do you know who I am?”

She straightened out her hoodie, “I hacks into the Avengers secret files. And I’m not a bad guy…” she sighs.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Peter scoffs and puts the bag of frozen peas on his brow.

The girl hesitates, “Please Peter, I need your help.”

“You gotta funny way of showing it.”

“Desperate times.”

“Why are you so desperate?” Peter pulls a beer from his fridge. No, he’s 21, but the guy he got the fake ID from was perfectly willing to give him one in exchange for an autograph from Spider-Man for his kid.

“Aren’t you 18— never mind,” she starts, “I want you to put my dad in jail.” At that, Peter nearly spits out his beer.

“And why should I do that?” He asks as he sits at his table with the girl quickly following.

“Because he’s a criminal!” She pleads. “His name is Walter Hardy and he’s not a pleasant guy. He’s a burglar.”

Peter looks her up and down skeptically, “I suspect the apple doesn’t fall far?”

The girl groans, “Peter, please! I can’t keep living with him! If he makes me hack into one more security system I might die— or worse— I won’t be able to graduate!”

“How old are you?”

“I’m supposed to graduate high school this year, and I’ve been saving up for college but if he finds out he’ll take it from me! Please!”

Peter remembers that desperation to get to college, all the work it takes to save up— and he knows what it’s like for all the hard work to be worthless. So he’s thinking about it. “What did you say your name was?”

“Felicia.”

“Alright, Felicia Hardy. Why haven’t you called the police?”

She rolls her eyes, “The police have been after him for years— at least since my mom went back to Russia… or England— I’m not sure where she ran to, but that’s besides the point.” She tangents quite a bit, Peter notices.

“Your mom left?”

Felicia nods, “During the blip. I started learning to code and Dad got the bright idea to use my newfound skill to break into the Starks’. Mom said that was the last straw and left. But I guess she forgot about me or something…” It’s silent for a moment. “I was 15.”

This girl and Peter had led two very different lives. Hers was full of lies and red since she was young; and even though Peter was an orphan, before and after his parents death he always had someone there for him to help him out.

“Please just think about it. I’ll do anything.” She begs with her hands together.

Peter just takes another sip of beer. He still thinks beer is absolutely disgusting but he’s not gonna let his face show that.

“I can’t make you a new suit— one that doesn’t get ripped up so easily, o-or give you leads on over criminals— like scorpion! Or Jackel, or Rhino, or—”

“Or some other animal?”

“Peter, please.” She grabs her bag and pulls out a ripped piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it and some cash and puts them on the table. “Just think about it.” And with that, she gets up to leave.

“I’m not gonna do it for money!” Peter calls out as she opens the door

“It’s not for that, it’s for you to buy a deadbolt.” She winks before shutting the door behind her.

Peter goes to lock the door and uses his web shooter to seal it shut before grabbing his glasses, one of the few things that survived Goblin’s attacks.

“Edith?”

“Hello Peter. How can I help you today?” Edith asks.

“Give any information you have on Walter Hardy.”

#mcu!spiderman #tom holland #spiderman no way home #spiderman #spiderman nwh #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman x black cat #tasm spiderman #Peter Parker angst #enemies to lovers #tom holland angst #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction

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punkeropercyjackson · 6 days

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Transmasc4transfem Punkflower lore bits i got bouncing around

SO like i said in my first post on this blog about them,Mirasol was still jealous of Hobie but platonically because she was isolated in a new way due to her egg cracking by Gwen followed by her departion so she was really clingy to her when they reunited and was scared Gwen was going to forget about her in favor of Hobie so she instantly prepeared herself to hate him and acts snippy and rude to him in the beginning as a result,making him out to be way worse than he is in her head

Only for Hobie to not only end up being Gwen level important to her but for her to end up falling in love with him.Homegirl is so fucking embarrased and in denial and i can't blame her,i'd fucking kms if that happened to me

Hobie's mostly the same but his flirting is explicit here so amped up.However,there's a bit of context added on and it's that Hobie's the kinda person who fake flirts with his friends as a joke and they do the same so it takes him a hot sec to realize he's actually into Mirasol and the way it happens is that he tells her 'You and Gwendy didn't swing into Neverland,Tinkerbell' when she points out a flaw in Spider Society in a teasing way and she looks annoyed for a sec before smiling and saying 'Thanks for the info,Peter Pan' in a mix between snark and begrudging fondness that she'd subcounciously intended as flirting and bro got shy lmao

Rio approved of Hobie on sight,him and Margo having been at Jefferson's party because they came to pick up Gwen out of worry.'That Hobie boy is very sweet' 'Yeah,he is......Unfortunately' 'He's sweet looking too so maybe sometimes the cover DOES match the book' 'Uh,yeah,i guess' 'You guess you wanna check him out?Take him out?Keep him home forever?' 'MAMÍ'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

You guys know this theme of cover done with the main Spidey couples(there's also Petermj and Felicia x Venom versions)

Yeah,Punkflower has a scene where they recreate it completely unintentionally in-universe and the background is Miles' shade of pink with an extra edgy spiderweb behind them for Hobie

I have 2 versions of their first kiss

Wholesome edition:Hobie tries to do the Uncle Aaron 'Hey' move only to nearly fall over as soon as he gets the word out and Mirasol catches him with her webbing and kisses him while dipping him.There's a remix of 'Self Love' playing in the background and it swells when Hobie starts kissing back

Funny edition:Hobie's annoying Mirasol on purpose because he's a boyloser and she's so done with it by then and it's in the middle of a dire moment in the plot so she just.Lifts up her mask,cups Hobie's face and kisses him passionately and that leaves him shellshocked enough to shut up and she walks away while telling him that was her intention.Hobie snaps back to reality and runs after her while shouting about she needs to do it again and maybe forever because he'll never shut up and in the post credits scene she says 'Hey,Hobie,that wasn't a bad idea.I'd love to do forever with you'

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spider-man-199999 · 10 months

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Hey, how are you? could you write something with blackcat!reader? maybe they are in college and after a patrol peter manages to follow her and discovers that she lives in a frat next to his. Peter discovers her identity and is surprised that she went to school with him in midtown but doesn't remember him, just spiderman and the relationship they had before the spell.

(does that make sense? I don't know if it does, but whatever you want to do with it is completely fine✨️)

Oh boy, oh boy I love Blackcat x Spider-man as a couple. Me and Felicia are equally obsessed with Spider-man.

Thank you for the request! I really appreciate it and I hope I do well! University is kicking my ass right now.

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!blackcatReader; Post nwh

word count: 3 k

warnings: It's cringe on purpose; drinking

Peter hated the state his life was in. He knew things were better the way they are now, for his safety, for everyone's. But it didn't mean he hated it any less. All his closest friends were at MIT and didn't even remember him. Not as Peter Parker at least. So, he decided it would be best not to go there after all. The idea of trying to get close to them again was giving him a headache. He desperately wanted to do it but he had to stop himself because it was better off this way. That was what he believed, at least.

If people could remember who he was, they would have been very surprised that he ended up being a frat guy in college. He didn't expect to become one either. After all, he thought these things were lame, propaganda from dumb movies or dream-sellings from romance novels. But Peter Parker was a frat guy. There was something about brotherhood that gave him some sense of security and comfort now that a new leaf was turned. It reminded him of the time he spent with the Avengers, in a way. He liked not feeling alone. The months he spent at college made him feel normal to some extent. He actually enjoyed this period of confusion, he could finally relax for a bit and feel normal. Go to a few parties, do his homework. It was nice, but so goddamn boring.

His life seemed so fucked-up, so different. He hadn't been on patrol for months, the thought of Spider-man was just too overwhelming. Plus, he needed to recover from everything he went through both emotionally and physically. He wanted to put the mask on again but whenever he did, he got vivid flashbacks - almost losing MJ, May dying. It would all come back to him, cold sweat running down his back, tears in his eyes. He just couldn't handle being Spider-man. But when he saw Black Cat running around in the streets close to his campus one night, everything changed.

All of the memories from patrols with the girl in a black suit hit him like a train. She never knew who was behind the mask. And somehow Peter felt like she saw who he really was anyway. The urge to put the costume on was strong now, plus he had added some new upgrades he needed to try out anyway. So, on the most ordinary wednesday night, Peter put on the spider suit again, and jumped out of the window of his bedroom to go on patrol.

He was swinging around the city and it felt like a walk in the park. It seemed like he had forgotten how freeing it could be. Despite all of the negative feelings linked to the red and black suit, he found comfort in it now. The memories were still there, in his mind, and the people he loved were there too. He owed that much to them, to keep their legacy alive, even if they're gone now. With time, he was sure he could heal. Time was all he needed.

Suddenly, his spider-sense tingled, making his head shoot to his left. He was swinging by some old brick buildings around his campus when Black Cat practically tackled him into a wall, wrapping both her arms and legs around his torso. He turned his back to take the hit for both of them, wrapping one arm around her waist for support. Sidey used the other hand to continue swinging both of them around the city.

"SPIDER!" she said, hugging him tightly. "Mi amor, I hate you, where have you been?"

"Looking for trouble, as usual." he said with a laugh. Peter actually enjoyed her warm embrace for once.

He never had anything against the girl, her excessive flirting and implications that she was in love with him could get a bit out of hand sometimes, but he found it charming. Plus, before he was dating someone else and he couldn't really pay her the attention she craved from him. He actually missed that more than he had previously realised.

"You still have a girlfriend?" She asked, her head rested on his collarbone for a while.

Peter landed both of them on a rooftop, letting her step on her own as her limbs untangled from his torso. She placed her hands on her hips, foot tapping on the ground while she waited for his answer.

"Actually, no. I don't."

Her eyes sparkled with his words, throwing herself at him again. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Oh, Spider! I'm so happy! And sorry, obviously, why did you two end it?"

Peter usually would reject the affection she offered, but now he needed it more than anything. She was the closest thing to a friend he had left. They finally let go and he still wasn't talking. She tought the break-up was probably still fresh.

"Okay, Spider. Patrols haven't been the same without you, I missed you." she told him, her hand resting against his cheek.

Oh how she wanted to kiss him, like usual. He used to jump and run whenever she touched him, in fear that it would somehow affect his relationship with MJ. But now he didn't. He let her touch his face, smiling softly behind the mask. Even if everything was fucked up, even if everything was different for him now, she just wasn't. She was the only thing that remained like a token from his past life. The Black Cat was the only thing he had left.

---

By the end of their patrol both of them felt really beat up. Fighting crime was not an easy job, especially when your opponents were skilled. No major super-villains were threatening New York right now, but there still were bad guys to fight.

Spider-man and Black Cat were sitting on the edge of a rooftop, swinging their legs as they took a moment to breathe. Cat had a few scratches here and there and Spider-man was probably bruised under the mask as well.

"Spider, this was so much better with you here!" She exclaimed.

The wind blew her hair gently to the side while she looked down on New York. Peter turned his head to look at her, her face showered in the sparkling city lights. He thought about how pretty she actually was, but he never had the chance to notice that before. Maybe it really was the comfort that she gave him that was making his heart beat faster while he stared at the scene. She looked like a Van Gogh painting - vibrant, breathtaking, gently touched by the warm light.

"Yeah." He replied, making her look at him in return.

"You were totally falling in love with me right now, weren't you?" she said with a giggle.

"What? No, no, no, no." he shook his hands in defence, denying her accusation.

She stood up, looking somewhere ahead of her.

"I would love to stay and let you fall deeper in love with me, but I have to run, early morning tomorrow." And with that she left.

Peter lay down on the rooftop for a little while, overthinking her words. Was he actually falling in love with her? Maybe... He didn't want to jump to conclusions, he didn't want to make her a rebound after MJ either. It was starting to mess with him, just as he found some serenity. It was like he couldn't have a single moment of peace in this costume. After a good 15 minutes, Peter decided it was time to swing back to the house, just like Black Cat, he had classes early in the morning.

He had almost reached his place when a familiar figure caught his attention. He stopped, sticking to a wall just to make sure. It was Black Cat, and she was on campus. His campus. Well this was getting a bit too interesting to pass up. He crawled and jumped around the buildings to follow her, stopping when she did. He climbed up a wall to a house next to where the cat stopped, peeking just enough to see clearly what was going on. The Black Cat took her mask off, placing it in a gym bag that was hidden next to the back door. His mouth flew open when he realized he finally knew who she was. Not only was she someone on campus, living a sorority right next to his frat house, but he also knew her personally. Peter hid behind the wall completely, trying to process the information. It was you, the girl that he went to high school with, the girl that took AP history with him. It took him a few seconds, but when he looked again, you were already gone. A room in the house light up soon after, and he started feeling guilty for what he did. He would have hated it if someone did this to him.

"Good going, Spyder-man!" he cussed at himself, finally going home for the night.

He tried not to make things awkward with you for the next few weeks, but oh gosh was he terrible at that. The two of you were never close, the fact that you came from the same school never really meant anything to the either of you. But now that Peter knew your secret identity, it meant everything to him. It felt like he had found a long lost friend in you. He tried to get closer, talk to you more whenever he saw you, even invite you to the latest frat party. If he knew one thing about Black Cat, she loved having fun. And what better occasion to have fun than an actual frat party, at a frat house.

Of course, you agreed. What was one night away from the crime scenes? You deserved that, plus, Spider-man got you covered, right? Nothing could really go wrong, you literally needed seconds to get into the suit and go if you had to. You did find Peter Parker's new attitude towards you a bit peculiar, but it was cute nonetheless. You were only really interested in Spider-man, but you loved attention no matter who was giving it. Outside of the costume, you still had this care-free, very self-assured personality but a little toned down. It wasn't always easy to be the one to fight the battles for yourself all of the time. And you had to do it, every single day. Maybe there was a reason why you liked Spider-man so much, you two felt like a team, like it wasn't just you alone against the world for a change.

----

The time of the party came quicker than you thought. Your "sisters" were already pulling you by the hand out of your room. In true Black Cat spirit, you just had to wear a tight black dress with a slit on the side. And a choker around your neck. It was only normal to make heads turn when you walked in the frat house. Your sorority wasn't one that liked partying all of the time, but when you did party, things just got crazy.

"Y/N!" you heard, turning your head to see an unfamiliar boy.

He shoved a cup in your hand.

"Peter is in the backyard, wanted me to take you to him when you got here."

"Yeah, cute, but that's not gonna happen." You winked at the boy and walked off to mingle somewhere else.

You actually really wanted to dance with your girls tonight. And you did just that, a full cup in your hand the whole time. At some point you couldn't really remember how much you drank, there were some shots involved. You were having so much fun, even dancing on top of a table. A hand grabbed your arm suddenly making you look, it was the guy from earlier tonight, you got off the table with a jump so you could talk. You were obviously annoyed by his interruption, crossing your arms in front of your chest. He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Look, I'm so sorry to bother you, but it's been 2 hours and Peter was asking me about you-"

"I don't care." you interrupted him, turning around with the intention of leaving him there. He placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"Please, I've been lying to him for two hours, I'll be in so much trouble."

You looked at him over your shoulder, gently removing it with your hand.

"If Parker wants to see me so bad, he should come get me." You winked at him and left.

Dancing on top of tables didn't seem so fun now, and your head was feeling pretty light from all of the alcohol. You overheard some girls from your house mention a pool and you immediately walked over to them, placing your arms on the shoulders of each one of them, standing between them.

"Did I hear pool?" the three of you giggled after the question.

----

Your dress was wet, along with your hair and pretty much everything else on your body. Yes, the three of you really did jump in the pool, which caused a chain reaction of other people jumping in as well. Soon the party had drunk, wet people, running around everywhere. Cats rarely liked water and you were no exception. You didn't mind it as much as long as you weren't in the costume. So, after swimming for a little bit you got out, squeezing out some water from the hem of your dress when you felt something cover your shoulders. You turned around, your eyes meeting Peter's, who had placed a towel on you and smiled. You squinted your eyes at him, letting go of the dress and standing up straight to look at him.

"It's cold." he said

"Yeah, thanks?"

It was so sweet of him to be so considerate, it made you feel very weird things, but maybe it was the alcohol. Peter put his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously.

"So..." he started "How's it going?"

"Are you usually this awkward or...?"

''Yeah, kinda"

"So it's not my stunning beauty, just you?"

"No, well I mean, your beauty does make it a lot worse for me, but no."

You laughed, drying your hair off with the towel.

"If I didn't know any better, I would assume you were crushing on me." you said, giving him back his towel.

"No, what? What gave you that impression?"

"Doesn't matter, I'm in love with someone else."

"Wait, who?" he asked, trying to act confused.

You turned your back to him, trying to hide the blush you had on.

"Well, I don't really... know yet." you said, already taking off so you could hide from him.

-----

It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you were in love with someone you didn't really know. It's not like you didn't know Spider-man, you just didn't know who the person behind the mask was. But truthfully, you never felt a need to do that. You were content with the teammate you had, the person who was there to watch your back. You were in love with the person who would put himself in harm's way to save others, the person who always seemed to know what to say. He was so brave and dedicated to his mission, his heart was pure. Sure, you used to be curious about his identity in the beginning but with time it just stopped mattering. There was something bigger, something greater about your love for him because of this.

And you couldn't help but feel conflicted when you started feeling the same things towards Peter Parker. He definitely wasn't the first guy to express an interest in you, or be consistent with said interest but there was something about him that just made you feel warm inside. Maybe it was his nerdiness and how smart he was, or it was the way he would smile whenever he saw you. How he would try so hard to find something to talk about with you and how he would research any topic you would mention. He was so overly-sweet and protective that it brought out a soft side of you, one you didn't really know you had before that.

So, meeting Spider-man and Peter was becoming increasingly difficult for you. It got to the point where you would avoid Spider-man on patrol so you could spare yourself some emotional damage. It didn't take him long to figure you out though.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on finally?" Spider-man asked you one night after probably the worst patrol the two of you ever had. You were so distracted the whole time that the two of you took quite the beating. His costume was torn and so was yours, wounds and bruises everywhere.

"I really don't know." you said, pressing your back against a brick wall in the alleyway the two of you hid. You slid down the wall, sitting on the ground and hugging your knees.

Spider-man sat down next to you, pressing his head to the wall and looking up at the metal fire-escape that the two of you were sitting under.

"Something from your personal life?"

"Well, I'm not so sure."

"How can you not be sure?"

"You know I have this undying love for you, right."

He laughed, turning his head to look at you.

"I know."

"Well, I might have it for someone else too."

"Someone else?"

"Yeah, he's... well he's not as great as you are, not even close, but he has this nerdy charm about him."

You turned to him, cupping his cheek with your hands while you looked at the mask. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss where his lips were supposed to be.

"You're still my greatest, biggest love, Spider."

He looked at you for a while, his hand hesitantly pulling his mask up enough to uncover his lips before he pulled you in for a real kiss. It was a sweet, warm kiss, your lips moving together while your hands were holding onto each other. It was a kiss that the two of you had anticipated to share for so long, dreaming and imagining how it would go. And it went even better.

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spidervee · 1 year

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for the darling anon who requested some protective tasm!peter, here’s a lil something for you. there’s another, bigger, spicier, something in the works as well. but for now… 🌻 18+ only -> fem!reader; alcohol; touchy dudes at bars; idiots in love; Peter is a dumbass but we love him

i. “For fucks sake,” you sigh, settling back into the booth beside Peter, the four tequila shots you’re carrying dangerously close to spilling over the rims of their respective glasses. Peter raises an eyebrow at you, as do Miles and Felicia, all of them curious as to what has you looking a little flustered.

You ignore Peter and Miles, instead turning to complain to Felicia—a commiseration of sorts because you’ve seen the way men look at her and talk to her and touch her like she’s something for sale. She’s good at handling it, with grace and a biting tongue that you wish you had for moments when you’re in the same situation.

Your friend scowls up at the bar, her perfectly manicured nails rapping out a vicious beat on the damp wooden table. “Which one?”

“What’s going on?” Peter and Miles are tired of being left out of the conversation and Felicia just turns her flat gaze onto them and rolls her eyes as if they’re both idiots. Peter catches on first and something like anger flits across his face as he moves to stand.

“Who was it? What did he say? Did he tou—?”

“Whoa, calm down, Romeo,” Felicia mutters across the table and Miles, whose been looking back and forth between the three of you, finally gets it and cracks his knuckles.

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, not liking how the shots you fought your way to the bar to procure have been forgotten in favour of harsh glares towards the crowd still gathered up there.

“It’s not!” Peter protests, still frozen in place from where he’d begun to stand up. You pat his thigh under the table and he settles back into his seat. “It’s not fine,” he reiterates, taking the tequila shot that Felicia slides across to him. “No one gets to talk to my best friend like that.”

You catch the way Miles cringes at Peter’s choice of words. Your crush on him is an open-secret that everyone except Peter seems in on. With a sympathetic smile, Felicia passed you the final shot. You take it and toss it back, hoping it will erase the memory of the last three minutes.

With your eyes squeezed shut at the burning sensation of the liquor, you don’t notice the way she tilts her head oh so subtly in the direction of the bar, one sparkling nail pointed to indicate guilt.

ii. Peter cuts out early, complaining of a headache and you try your best to hide your frown when he musses up your hair by way of saying goodbye. Felicia watches him skeptically as he walks out of the bar, your eyes following his long and confident strides until he’s out of sight.

“You need to tell him you’re in love with him,” Miles mutters in your ear. You show him a choice finger on each hand before deciding that you want to dance.

Felicia declines to join the two of you and when you look back to your table two songs later, she’s disappeared.

Something in your stomach lurches.

iii. Outside, in the crisp October air, you feel a little less out of sorts. Miles lent you his jacket but stayed inside to chat up the pretty girl who’d cut in to your dancing. You’re not mad—though you are perhaps a little envious of the girl’s confidence. Would Peter have stayed if you’d asked him to dance? Would he have looked at you with wide, adoring eyes and placed his hands firmly on your hips?

You have no time to think about it as a clatter from the next alley over nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Maybe it’s the tequila that’s softened your self-preservation instinct, but you slip around the corner, calling out a meek excuse me as you do, you know, lest the mugger you’re probably interrupting thinks you have bad manners.

What you see is so much worse than anything you expected.

Felicia is standing there, her hair a little disheveled and her black tank top slightly askew. And Peter. Peter’s half-hidden from the streetlight behind a dumpster but you can tell he’s got no shirt on.

“Oh.”

They both look at you in wide-eyed horror, an expression you’re sure that matches your own. Peter says something—it might be your name, but you don’t hear it over the pounding of your blood in your ears. You don’t want to, but you run, your heels clacking on the pavement.

And in your haste, you don’t see the unconscious figure of the man whose hand had found your ass at the bar less than an hour ago.

iv. When you wake up, everything hurts. Your legs, your stomach, your head, your heart.

And none of it is made better by the pounding on your apartment door. You can hear Peter outside, calling your name.

Slowly, you drag yourself out of bed and toward the front entryway.

“That you, Bug? You okay? It’s P—”

“I’m not home, go away.” There’s no venom in your voice, despite how betrayed you feel. Not that you’ve got any right—Peter wasn’t yours.

A key turning in the lock makes you cross your arms over your chest and stare daggers as Peter enters your apartment.

“I didn’t invite you in,” you snip, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about your tiny sleep shorts and the way your legs look in them.

Peter scoffs. “Good thing I’m not a vampire, then.” A beat of silence passes, then Peter’s boyish grin disappears as his mouth turns down at the corners and his eyes cloud over. “I don’t know what you saw last night…”

“Don’t do this, Peter,” you sigh, retreating into your apartment, not sure where else you might run to.

“No, but, it’s important,” he insists, following you, the smell of cinnamon that always lingers on him already invading your senses. “That guy at the bar had no right to put his hands on you and I saw red, Bug, and I couldn’t help it. I should have told you sooner, but it complicates things and then I saw him leave and I knew I had to…”

Your head is swimming and you’re certain it’s not the hangover. “Peter,” you say slowly, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He blinks at you, his honey-brown eyes surveying you carefully. “Last night,” he replies, equally as slow, “In the alley.”

“Yeah, where you and Felicia were fooling around? What about it? What does that have to do with—?”

“Wait, what?” Peter laughs—a full on belly laugh and it almost makes you want to cry. But when he notices you’re not laughing along, Peter quiets and pulls you into a hug. “Listen Ladybug,” he says, voice suddenly solemn, “Felicia and I weren’t…fooling around. I, uh, I beat the crap out of that dude who touched you. See?” He pauses and holds out his hand in front of your face, fading red marks on his knuckles that are indicative of violence. “She was just…helping me clean up. There’s…oh fuck, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me and Felicia but I promise you, there’s nothing there. I’m spoken for.”

You stare at him as he speaks, wanting to pull out of his hug but not wanting to lose the comfort of his embrace.

“You beat someone up for me?”

Peter chuckles at the wide-eyed innocence with which you ask your question. “Yeah, and I’d do it again. Like I said, no one gets to touch you like that. Not without your permission.”

Your mouth is suddenly very dry and you’re hyper aware of the fact that you haven’t yet brushed your teeth. But Peter is so close to you and there’s something about him that’s practically humming.

“It’s you, by the way,” he continues, “I’m spoken for because of you.”

“Oh.” Your face cracks into a smile and Peter runs a thumb along your cheek, tracing the way your face shifts and lightens with this new expression.

“Now, so I don’t have to kick my own ass—can I please, please kiss you, Bug?”

#tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker imagine

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amageish · 6 months

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People seemed to like my post chronicling the queer history of Felicia Hardy, so I'm going to do something similar to that... Let's chat about the queer history of Marvel's unwitting power couple, Ellie Phimister and her girlfriend Yuki Ohara.

Let's dive in!

Content Warning: This summary will include discussion of anti-mutant hate crimes and genocide, as that is part of Ellie's comic book story.

Like a lot of queer X-Men stories, this one begins with queercoding in the 80s.

While Jim Shooter famously prohibited any queer storytelling in Marvel Comics during his tenure as Editor-in-Chief of the company and, on top of that, the Comics Code Authority also banned it, Chris Claremont, the architect of the X-Men as we know them today, never really followed those rules - and neither did his editors, artists, and co-writers. There are so many queer-coded relationships throughout his runs on the X-Men and the modern X-Men stories are still playing catch-up to this day, canonizing the intentions of him and his collaborators one character at a time. Mystique and Destiny are probably his most famous pairing nowadays, as that is canon now, but he also wrote the Juggernaut as being with Black Tom Cassidy, Kate Pryde as being bisexual for most women she encounters in her life, and, the topic for today, Storm being in a romantic relationship with the Japanese assassin Yukio.

Yukio is, to put it mildly, a risk-taker. She runs through life with seemingly no self-preservation instincts whatsoever and, for some reason, always gets by nonetheless. She and Storm have a fling while Storm is in Japan (Uncanny X-Men 172-173) and this leads directly into Storm's famous punk era, which certainly does recontextualize some of the vibes of her having suddenly gotten a mohawk and a taste for leather.

Their later reunion in Uncanny X-Men 311-313 is extra funny to me - both because of the narration textually referring to them as "more then friends" and because of Yukio justifying her daredevil attitude by suggesting it would have been "politically incorrect" of the villain to have attacked them in public.

These two "kindred spirits" hang out for a bit, but Yukio is ultimately a Wolverine character and not a larger X-Men team member, so they naturally split off as time goes on. Their last appearance together was during the 2014 Death of Wolverine event - though their affair was mentioned by an angry Kitty during the Storm flashback mini earlier this year.

That said, Yukio is obviously a Sapphic and I guess when the team behind the movie Deadpool 2 decided to give their version of Negasonic Teenage Warhead a girlfriend, they looked at the list of queer-coded characters and decided she was the right one for them...

Now, as for Ellie...

Eloise Phimister AKA Negasonic Teenage Warhead debuted in Grant Morrison's New X-Men, but her name was not said on-panel until after she was already dead. She was one of Emma Frost's students, a gothic woman with telepathic powers that foretold the death of her and her classmates at Genosha... and yet she died nonetheless.

This is a very tragic character. She has a silly name, but that is part of the heartbreak of this moment. Ellie is a child who died as a result of a genocidal desire to kill all mutants. Her silly name emphasizes her youth... which makes it REALLY tonally dissonant when it played for comedy from here-on-out.

She was briefly brought back by the camp gay villain Selene when she revived horrific versions of many deceased mutants as part of X-Force... and then she was revived for real with a new design fter the release of the first Deadpool movie. She maintains her precognitive abilities and future-sight here, but otherwise... Well, she's now a comedy character in a Deadpool book. She also can warp reality now, partially as an explanation for why she looks/acts different then her first appearances.

She paled around with Deadpool for a bit, but didn't do anything explicitly queer in the comics until 2022 (good god) where she kissed an unnamed woman, causing Wolverine to wonder if she'll one day lead a X-Men team that is exclusively made up of her multiple girlfriends. This comment is also a subtle not to the implied status quo of the Krakoa era, where Wolverine himself has two partners - dating both Jean Grey and Scott Summers.

This is a funny moment, though I do wonder why it took so long for her to be queer in the comics - Marvel comic books are generally the most queer media Marvel puts out, so I do wonder if it was something specifically about her being a Deadpool character that caused people to hesitate to greenlight queer stories about her.

Finally, in 2023, Ellie got her first solo series in the form of an Infinity Comic.

This series uses the increasingly-popular approach of having "fate" be a stand-in for "the concept of being a loyal adaptation in a multimedia landscape," as she is fated to kiss a girl named Yuki Ohara or else the fabric of reality as we know it will be destroyed.

While Deadpool is only in it for a bit, it is a very meta narrative, with a lot of commentary on the way that female characters are written in comics in general and female reality-warpers specifically, with Ellie having a lot of anxiety about the risk of her becoming like Jean Grey or Scarlet Witch - not helped by the TVA chasing her down and declaring her a threat. However, in the end, she meets her girlfriend-to-be and pauses time itself to get know her properly before having their universe-saving kiss. Good for them!

Since then, she has appeared exactly once - in a Pride issue fashion show - but I imagine she and her girlfriend Yuki are just in a little reality-warp bubble, hidden away as Fall of X finishes up.

Synergy is a dirty word in the comics landscape, but I personally like Ellie and her romance with Yuki - and I'm very relieved that they introduced a new, younger Yuki O. based on the movie for her to date instead of just retconning the established Yukio into becoming Eloise's girlfriend... Storm doesn't deserve to have her girl stolen away like that!

Also, Yuki has a giant mech and electricity powers. Maybe a little cliche for a Japanese character's powerset, but it is badass...

I hope we see more comic book stuff with these two eventually... There is potential there that is as of yet untapped - especially as they are probably two of Marvel's most notable queers by virtue of being in wildly popular movies, even if their comic queerness is a relatively modern thing.

#negasonic teenage warhead #negasonic x yukio #yukio #yuki ohara #storm #storm x yukio

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