D-gteeths - Greatness Calling...

A Second Chance PT 1/10

Summary: After the loss of his daughter Miguel wants nothing to do with kids that is until he impulsively offers his pregnant neighbor a job at the Spider-Society.

Tags for this story: Grumpy x Sunshine, Double life, Secret Identity, Fluff, AGNST AGNST AGNST, Miguel x reader, Spiderman 2099 x reader 8.3k words

I really hope you guys like this one<3333

This takes place before the whole Miles situation, and instead of Miguel taking the place of his other self in a different universe when Gabriella was older in this story he took his place while his "wife" was in the last trimester. So he had the chance to see Gabriella grow.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

You slowly make your way inside your apartment complex carrying 4 plastic bags 2 in each hand filled with groceries. This is your second trip and with just your luck the elevator is out of order and you live on the 3rd floor which means that's 4 flights of stairs you have to walk up. It's 9 a.m. You just got off of work at 6 and took a nap in your car because the supermarket doesn't open till 7:30 and here you are on a hot morning in Nueva York breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth focusing all of your energy in making your way back into your apartment safe and sound. This is one of the parts you hate about bartending coming home so early in the morning after dealing with loud rude and obnoxious people all night. You love the rush and the adrenaline that comes with bartending. Memorizing drink orders, making the drinks, learning who's cheating on who. You love it you always had but now you're questioning your job as you steal a glance at your round belly that's peeking through your oversized shirt that's sticking to your skin. No one else knows it's there but you do.

Oh right, and you're 4 months pregnant.

It's just you and your baby, your ex he…. Well, let's not talk about him now, shall we? You just need to focus all of your energy on making your way back into the safety of your own apartment and these stairs aren't helping nor are the bags in your hands.

"One step at a time" You whisper as you reach the last flight of stairs.

"Can you move?" You jump startled at the deep voice coming from behind you. Immediately turning around you accidentally drop a bag and of course with your luck it was the bag that held your glass carton of milk. The contents spilled out all over the stairs and landed on the stranger's shoes. Your eyes widen in horror. You slowly drag your eyes from the bottom of their feet to their face. It's a fit middle-aged man with black hair that looks like it was gelled back but is now messy. He definitely has a few wrinkles on his face and you're pretty sure you just added another one. He's wearing a pair of black slacks that hug his thighs and a loose black top. 

"Shit you scared me, let me go get something to clean up" You begin to place your bags down but you hear a dissatisfied grunt from the man.

"Just move"

"But your shoes" The man says nothing as he takes a step up towards you and he stands there looking at you expectedly. You give him a confused look before realizing that he wants you to move. Or more so that you have to move since the staircase is so narrow.  You watch as he makes his way into the 3rd floor and it isn't until you hear a door opening and closing that you look away from the direction that he went in.

Bringing your attention back to the stairs you let out a groan of frustration all you wanted to do was put these groceries away and go to sleep. But no now you have to clean up this mess and you just lost a carton of milk that you spent almost $5 on. Fucking inflation.

Sighing you trudge your way up the last flight of stairs making your way back to your apartment to get stuff to clean up the mess. You hope that's the last time you see him. That encounter was embarrassing enough. 

But of course, it's not every day for the next two weeks you see him each morning as you come home from your shift. Each encounter always leaves you feeling embarrassed and leaves you feeling like he wants nothing to do with you. But by the 3rd day, you realize that the two of you are actually neighbors.

"I didn't know we were neighbors," You say as you both are unlocking your doors. When he doesn't say anything you decide to speak again. Maybe he didn't hear you.

"It's weird I only ever see you in the mornings I've never seen you anywhere else"

"Yeah let's keep it that way"  You turn around to face him but his door is already closing shut. Rude.

Day 8

Your feet hurt like hell. The bar was swarming with customers tonight which is typical on a Friday but still, you barely had any time to sit down and take a break. A break in which your feet needed desperately you chose the wrong day to wear sneakers.  Finally reaching back to your apartment building you smooth down your skirt as you walk through the lobby doors. You go to check your mail before you decide to lock in for the night…well morning.

While looking through each of your mails you accidentally drop one. Since there's no one behind you you bend over to pick it up, your skirt lifting up slowly revealing the ends of your ass and your underwear. Lifting back up you flatten out your skirt with one hand as you begin to close your mailbox. Turning to head to the stairs you nearly trip over your feet when you hear a voice behind you.

"Have some self-respect" You turn around to the sound of the voice and you see the middle-aged man who happens to be your neighbor standing a few behind you with a scowl on his face.

You immediately jumble over your words. "I'm sorry I didn't think anyone was behind me" You watch as he rolls his eyes and scoffs. "That shouldn't matter, you clearly have no respect for yourself if you walk around in a skirt that looks like it will fall apart with one breeze from the wind" You gape at his words and then you look down at your skirt. It's not like you chose to wear this skirt your boss asked you to wear it, plus it got you more tips.

Rolling your eyes you fold your arms over your chest. "This wasn't by choice it's my uniform for work"

"And somehow that makes it even worse. Listen I didn't come home to talk I came here to sleep so if you'll move out the way that'll be great"

You don't know how a person you barely even know could be so rude to you. You've barely even said anything to him. You walk over to the front of the staircase before turning around to face him. "No, I think you can wait I don't walk that slow"

He walks up to you and the minute he's in front of you you take a nervous step back. He's huge in every aspect. In height and width. He towers over you easily even though you’re 5'7. But you don't let that faze you. Sticking out your chin you stare up at him unmoving determined not to let him intimidate you.

"Move"

You lean forward lowering your voice. "No"  Turning around you begin to walk up the steps. Once your feet touch the 5th step you feel hands on both sides of your forearm lifting you up and putting you back on the lobby floor. Did he just…?

You stare up at him in disbelief but he's already walking up the second flight of stairs. "You're a jerk" You shout out after him as you begin your journey up the stairs.

Day 14

Once again you're coming back home around 7 am. It was surprisingly windy this morning and you can already feel the mess that the wind made of your curls. But you’re too lazy to put it into a bun or truthfully you just don't care. You really hope you don't run into your rude neighbor today, you're way too tired to deal with him. Plus you'll need all of the sleep you can get if you're going to make it to your summer class on time for 2 p.m. You're grateful that after you finish your 2 summer classes you'll finally be getting your bachelor's degree. You would've gotten it sooner if only your ex would've allowed it…. You had to sneak around to get the information you needed in order to apply for community college and you’ve spent all 4 years taking online classes. You're grateful for each day that you wake up and he's not there to yell or to put his hands on you. You thought that he was going to change you really did he promised you. But you guess there are just some promises that can't be kept. You knew you had to leave him when you were 1 month into your pregnancy and he hit you not once but twice in the same day.

You just finished checking your mailbox and you turn around ready to head upstairs when you walk straight into a brick wall…..or straight into a man who lives in the gym. You subtly rub your nose and look up immediately groaning when you see who it is.

 "Can you move out my way?" Folding your arms across your chest you stare at him expectantly waiting for him to move. But he doesn't move away instead he takes a step forward and you hastily take a step back. You begin to feel uneasy when he continues walking forward until your back hits the mailboxes.

"H-Hey listen I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you just-" The minute you see his right hand raise just above your head your body reacts on its own. You duck your head lifting your hands blocking your face from taking the blow. You wait for it to happen but it doesn't. It isn't until you hear the sound of keys rattling from above your head that you take the chance and peek through your arms. You watch as he stares at you with a confused look on his face, his eyes narrowing before he shows you your keys…?

"You left them in your mailbox"

Slowly you lower your hands as you feel tears begin to fill your eyes. It's been 3 months and yet you still…."O-Oh I'm sorry I didn't know"

Hesitantly you take the keys from his hands and you watch as realization dawns on his face. He takes a step back before opening his mouth to speak. "Did you think….I would never"

Wiping your eyes you try to bring light to the situation by changing the topic. "I'll willingly let you go first this time" He takes another step back before you meet his eyes he opens his mouth to speak but you shake your head no turning your attention away from him.

"Just go…please" You don't watch as he leaves you’re too embarrassed to do so but you wait till you hear the sound of a door opening and closing before making your journey up the stairs.

•°~°•

It's early Saturday morning and you had to have a security guard walk you home. Working at a bar as a woman has its cons just like every other job. Men immediately think that you’re up for grabs or they can talk to you however they want. Two men made crude comments towards you the whole night. One of them even tried to touch you inappropriately. As a safety precaution, you begged a security guard to walk you home. You even offered to pay him. But thankfully he agreed to escort you home free of charge.

Instead of going into your apartment straight away, you decided to go up to the roof to catch the sunrise. Even though you just came out from outside you feel like you need a breath of fresh air. You just need a moment to let go. You're grateful that there are only 5 floors in your apartment because of course the elevator has yet to be fixed. You absentmindedly rub your belly which seems to be growing each day as you walk to the roof. You can't believe that you're already 5 months pregnant. In the app that you use to track the growth of your baby, it says that at 20 weeks they are the size of a banana. You’re really excited to know the gender of your baby. You can’t wait to hold them in your arms for the first time. You’re even more excited to paint and decorate the nursery. Finally reaching the door to the rooftop you say a silent prayer hoping that you’ll be alone before pushing open the door.

•°~°•

Fighting an anomaly and putting it back where it belongs no matter how many times he does it never gets easier. This particular anomaly did put up a fight and left him bruised way more than he likes to admit. Miguel does his last round of patrol of his neighborhood before landing on his rooftop. He hates that he has to come home. Or rather that he was forced to return to his place for at least 4 hours a day from Jess, Peter, Pavitr, Gwen, Hobi, and of course Lyla. He doesn’t know why he puts up with them. If he had the ability to do so they all would be fired maybe with the exception of Jess she isn’t too bad but she has her moments. They all decided that it was a good idea to riot against him. Their reasoning: 

“Running the Spider Society is taking over your life”

“When was the last time you took a shower your funk is spreading throughout Spider Society” 

“It’s getting hard to speak to you I can smell your breath from over here”

“You need a break”

And so on. At first, Miguel was able to ignore them but it all started to go downhill when they began to purposely mess up on missions. Even though their mistakes always got fixed it became annoying. So Miguel had no choice but to agree with them that he’d go home each day for at least 4 hours. He hated every moment that he wasn’t in his office. The fate of the multiverse is in his hands and they want him to sleep…? At first, he found ways around it he would just disappear from his office somewhere in Spider Society but they quickly found out and made it their business to see him out of HQ.

Each morning deep down inside Miguel felt his brain and body rejoicing the minute his brain knew that they were on the way to his apartment. It was hard some days he would just spend the 4 hours in his bed checking on stuff through his watch. Most days he didn't even make it to his bed he just stayed in his living room staring at the clock waiting for those hours to pass him by. 

There’s a large gash on his shoulder and a deep cut on his thigh that he's pretty sure he’ll need stitches for. He would've just fixed it up at the Society but it made no sense since he was due for his 4 hours of “break”. He thought he might as well go home and take care of it. Turning around to make his way out of the rooftop he stops as he sees the door opening.

It’s you.

He rolls his eyes at the sight of you. Here’s another reason why he loathes coming back to his apartment every day. He doesn’t know why the universe is doing this to him. Every day before making it to his apartment he runs into you like clockwork. It doesn’t matter if he takes the long way back or if he leaves an hour in advance he always runs into you. Each morning you look more tired than the last. You probably spend the night out partying. But every day..? It seems a little excessive but you seem young enough to partake in such activities. You’re weird but also very annoying you talk way too much and for someone your age you walk too slow.

Miguel knows his size is intimidating to most people and he knows that he isn’t particularly the best at conversing with people but the moment he saw you flinch it made him think is he really that scary? To those at Spider Society sure but when he’s a regular civilian no suit no nothing just him bare and exposed he's not…he can't be that scary right?  He would never hit you or any woman for the matter. He knew better and the one thing that he learned from his mother was to respect women.

Concealing himself in the shadows he takes a step back watching, waiting to see your next move. He watches as you walk closer and closer to the edge of the building. What are you doing? It looks like you have no plans of stopping and if you continue you’re going to fall off. 

Shit, you’re going to jump.

Miguel immediately makes his way over to you grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you away from the edge as far as he can.

"Don't do it, it's not worth it" He watches as you stare up at him with wide eyes. Your eyes dart up and down from head to toe.

"Spiderman?" He looks at you confusingly before he realizes you’re talking to him. Right, he has his suit on you don't know that he's under here. Remembering how you flinched last time he drops his hold and takes a step back but this time his back is towards the edge. So if you try to make a run for it you'll have to go through him.

"What are you doing here, what's going on?"

"You were going to jump"

"I was not" He narrows his eyes at you before you stand on your tippy toes peeking out over his shoulder. He moves into your line of vision.

"Don't think about it" You roll your eyes at him before tapping on his shoulder. "Come on big guy move you're going to make me miss it" You immediately step around him and begin walking towards the edge.

 Oh for fucks sake. 

He hovers over you subtly holding out a hand just in case. He watches as you try to sit down awkwardly. Why don't you just sit down normally? Thankfully you're not wearing a skirt this time so he won't get flashed by you. When you finally sit down you begin to scoot closer over the edge till your feet are dangling. You slowly put your arms behind you leaning back as you close your eyes taking a deep breath.

He's watching you confusingly as you look straight ahead. When he feels heat on the side of his face he slowly turns his face in that direction. The sun is rising, peeking up just above the horizon. When he hears you sigh he turns his attention back to you.

"I was just trying to catch the sunrise. I don't need to be on suicide watch I'm fine." He folds his arms across his chest trying to analyze you. His muscles bulged against his suit. He's not sure if he believes you or not. It isn't until he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder that he remembers his current state. When you finally look up at him your eyes gape at the sight of his wounds.

"My goodness you’re dripping blood all over the floor” You swing your legs over so that they no longer dangle off the edge and you form a squat position before rising to your full height.

You wave your hand beckoning him to follow you. "Come come I have a first aid kit" You walk a few steps but turn around when you realize he's not following you.

Miguel shakes his head no and stretches out a hand so you can continue walking. "Go on"

"No you're going to leave the minute I turn my back come on big guy let's go" You reach for his left hand and he slowly draws it back. Your eyes dart down to the big watch with the orange screen that's on his wrist.

You point to his watch. "Oh…I don't want that come on you're wasting time you're going to bleed out before you know it" Grabbing him by his right hand you pull him into the staircase. Miguel doesn't know why he's letting you do this. Maybe he's just too tired to protest. He watches as you drag him down the stairs you're not even half his size, what are you thinking? Surprisingly though you're not that slow when walking down the stairs. Once reaching on the 3rd floor he subtly glances at his door that's directly across from your's. So close yet so far away. He's going to regret this. He takes a deep breath as you pull him inside your apartment.

•°~°•

If you knew that you were going to start your morning on your knees for Spiderman you would've laughed and called yourself stupid. You sat him down on the loveseat couch in your almost bare living room. He looks so out of place it looks like he's been photoshopped in your apartment. You sit down on your knees carefully pulling your shirt away from your body so that it doesn't stick to your growing belly. You sit your first aid kit on the couch between his legs. Before starting you pull your curls into a very uneven puff on top of your head. You watch as he quickly turns away folding his arms across his chest. You're super positive you look like a hot ass mess right now but it's fine you have no one to impress.

You stare at the deep cut on the inside of his left thigh near his knee. You're grateful that it isn't high up on his thigh near his crotch otherwise things would've gotten awkward real fast.

"You're going to have to take off the suit so I can properly disinfect it"  You expect him to take off his suit but instead the parts of the suit where his cuts are disengage creating an opening so the skin around it is free.

"Oh, that's very convenient" You begin to get out the stuff that you're going to need to disinfect his wound. You lean forward placing a gentle hand on his knee to support yourself.

"This is going to sting" You slowly press the cotton ball dipped in alcohol on the wound. You pause for a second expecting him to flinch or to grimace but you get nothing. The only thing you feel is his body tensing up. Taking that as a sign to continue you try to figure out what to say. How does one start a conversation with Spiderman?

"What Spiderman are you?" You take a glance at him before returning your attention back to his wound.

“2099”

“Oh so you’re this universe’s Spiderman…that’s cool. Sorry, I don't keep up with the news. I felt like I should've known that '' After you finished cleaning his wound you stared at it for a little bit realizing that it’s going to need to be stitched up.

“You’re going to need stitches, is that alright with you?” You watch as he finally turns to look at you, unfolding his arms and resting them on the back of the couch.“You know how to do stitches?” You slowly nod your head. Getting the needle and thread ready.

“How?”

“I had to do it a lot…are you ready? A distraction may help lessen the pain or….well distract you from it”

 “Uh, so how was your day?” You begin to thread the needle through his skin hopefully this will lessen the pain. You steal a quick glance at him thinking that he’s paying you no mind but you find him looking directly at you well you’re assuming that he is since you can’t see his eyes. You begin to scan him tracing the red lines of his suit with your eyes. From down his arms leading to the red spider in the middle of his chest. He’s incredibly huge. The width of his shoulders looks like a foot long or maybe it just looks bigger because you’re on your knees? One headlock from him and you'd be dead instantly. It isn’t until the lines on his face circling his eyes narrow that you realize he is in fact looking at you. Shit, he caught you staring. Feeling embarrassed and your skin heating up you turn your attention back to the very important task at hand.

“I’m sorry I thought you weren’t paying attention since you didn’t answer me”

“Did you get this from a villain or were you-”

“You talk a lot” You feel your heart sink at his words. You were just trying to engage in conversation to distract him from the pain but you guess you’re doing too much. He’s Spiderman after all he probably does this all the time so it’s not a big deal to him.

“Oh…you’re right I’m sorry let me hurry up and do this for you so you can go back to doing what you do best” You give him a small smile shutting your mouth too scared to say anything that will embarrass yourself even further. Once you're finished with the stitches you take a small scissors to cut the hanging thread. 

You then get what you need to disinfect the wound on his shoulder. Realizing that you're going to need to get closer to him in order to clean the wound you sit up on your knees leaning forward to get a closer look but almost immediately he draws his head back. Oh, maybe you should've warned him.

"Sorry I just need to get a closer look at your shoulder, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable" He stares at you for a moment before turning his head to the side away from you to presumably give you more room. 

Putting the finishing touches on his wound you seal it with gauze and you lean back resting on your knees again. Pleased with your work you sigh contentedly happy to be finished. You fight back a yawn and glance at the clock. It's 8 am and you've been up since 2 pm yesterday. You pat his knee twice signaling that you're finished.

"All done" You rest your hands on the couch bracing yourself as you stand up grabbing your first aid and heading over to the kitchen counter.

Walking over to the fridge the sounds of your bare feet hitting against the tiles echoes throughout the room. "Sorry, I don't have much to offer you but would you like something to drink? I have milk and water?" You turn around to face him expecting to find him where you left him on the couch only to find it empty with a dent in the middle where he sat. He left. You sigh, maybe you were doing too much. He's Spiderman for goodness sake. You shouldn't have expected him to take a break. He probably has a million and one things to worry about.

You glance around the room trying to figure out how he left it isn't until you feel a small gust of wind your eyes dart to the open window. Making your way over you close the window before turning off all the lights to get ready for bed.

"Come on baby Mommy's tired"

•°~°•

Two days have passed since you practically dragged Spider-Man into your home. You left for work last night finding a blue note on your window seal saying "Thank you" with the number 2099 at the end of it. He stopped by to give you a thank you note. You place the note on your kitchen counter since you have yet to get a coffee table. You've been using the extra money that you have to spend to buy things for the nursery and diapers for the baby. You didn't know how expensive diapers were until you had to buy them. You're waiting for your next ultrasound appointment to finally find the gender of your baby. You can't wait, you know that you'll be grateful for whatever gender you have. This is your baby and you'll love and cherish them no matter what but secretly you're hoping you'll have a baby girl. You just can't wait to have a mini-you running around.

You just got off from work and you're parking your car a few blocks away from the supermarket because you know how hard it is to get parking over there. You’re way past overdue for a grocery run and luckily you got paid today so you can finally satisfy your cravings. Weirdly you've been craving cream cheese and pickles. It's a weird combination for sure but that's all that you can think about while you are at work. You sigh as you make your way to the supermarket. You have an uneasy feeling in your stomach and no it's not the baby you just feel worried. The voice in your head is telling you to hold off on getting groceries but your intense cravings are saying otherwise. Grabbing a shopping cart you head immediately to the milk and cheese aisle.

You stand in front of the cream cheese section with strawberry cream cheese in one hand and regular low-fat cream cheese in the other. You've been standing here for 2 minutes trying to figure out which one to get. Half your mind is telling you to get both and the other half is telling you to rip them both open and take a taste.

"Pregnancy cravings?" You turn around to the sound of the voice coming from behind you. It's a small elderly woman with her own shopping cart. You glance down at your stomach and realize that it's poking through your white buttoned-down shirt. Although your stomach isn't that big yet it's finally noticeable that a bump is there. Or maybe it’s because you aren’t wearing an oversized shirt this time around. But just 2 days ago it wasn't like this at all, it wasn't this big. You swear your stomach grew overnight. Well, it was only a matter of time before you could no longer hide it.

You slowly nod and give her a small smile patting your belly affectionately. "Yeah I don't know I've just been craving cream cheese and pickles lately" 

The elderly lady smiles pushing her shopping cart forward. "When I was pregnant with my 3rd I wanted to eat nothing but cheese and pretzels" You tilt your head at her words that don't sound bad at all you eat cheese and pretzels all the time.

You let out a small laugh. "That's something I eat on a regular" The lady shakes her head "I'm lactose intolerant and at the time I haven't eaten a slice of cheese in years"

"Oh," She laughs at your reaction before walking a little further ahead.

"Cherish them when they are small. I think that's one of the best stages when they can't speak" You laugh at her words as you rub small circles on your belly. "I'll keep that in mind" You bid your farewell to the old woman and finally decide on getting both cream cheeses. Placing them down into the shopping cart you walk away in search of where the pickles are located.

While walking your feet slowly come to a stop when you feel the ground beginning to shake. Pausing for a second it isn't until things on the shelves all around begin falling off and the shakes become more violent that fear begins to settle deep within your bones. Earthquakes in Nueva York are unheard of. You begin to slowly back away clutching your stomach as the sounds of panic fill the air. What's going on? You turn around making your way to find cover when all of a sudden a big boom fills the air causing your ears to ring. Turning your attention to the direction of the sound more than half of the wall on the right side of the supermarket is gone. Bits and pieces of the ceiling are falling along with it.

No no no this can't be happening.

You walk with hurried steps to the semi-secluded corner of the supermarket. You place a hand over your ear trying to cancel out the sounds of panic and one hand holding your stomach protectively. However you stop mid-way when you see another pregnant woman who seems to be further along in her pregnancy trying to help the elderly lady you were talking to moments ago. Glancing back and forth between them and the safe corner you begin to make your way over to the women.

•°~°•

"Lyla, what's the stats?" Miguel, Ben, Jess Peter, and a few other spiders from HQ are swinging their way to where the anomaly is currently wreaking havoc.

"An anomaly is currently attacking the supermarket downtown so far there aren't any casualties"

"And which dimension does he belong to?"

"Earth-616B" Miguel grunts in response as he lands in the parking lot of the supermarket. Half of the supermarket walls are gone and the ceiling is slowly crumbling. If they don't act soon a lot of casualties are going to happen. Miguel barks out orders for the rest of the group before doing his own thing. Miguel begins to gather up some of the civilians using his webs to get them out of the way and to safety.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone walking further into the building where the ceiling is unsteady and small chunks of it are landing on the floor. What is wrong with them? Do they have a death wish?

"HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAN GET OUT" Miguel yells at them while he's swinging in the air knocking some of the debris out of the way while some spiders deal with the anomaly. When he realizes that they aren't stopping he angrily scoffs to himself as he begins to run towards them. The closer he gets he realizes that it's a woman who looks oddly familiar.

Of course, it's you.

You said that you don't need to be on suicide watch but now he's thinking otherwise. The closer he gets to you he sees that you have one hand clutching your stomach while helping a pregnant woman help an elderly lady. His eyes dart from the women to you he can't carry all 3. He takes a moment on who he's going to get first and he decides on you. He doesn't need another death on his conscience…..

While running he darts the falling debris using his webs to break them in half. The minute he reaches you he quickly guides the pregnant and the elderly woman to a secluded spot using his webs to give them a temporary shield. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Ben running towards him. Miguel points to the woman he’s hidden in a corner and Ben nods immediately. He then dashes over to you picking you up bridal style.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you purposely run into-" A large rock begins hurtling straight at the two of you. With little to no time to react Miguel turns his back to take the blow. He grunts on impact stumbling a bit as your high-pitched scream causes his ear to ring he then continues his journey out of the fallen supermarket.

“Why would you purposefully run further into a collapsing building? Do you have a death wish?”

“I-I was trying to help-” 

“Help yourself before helping others” Miguel continues to navigate his way out of the building, careful not to trip over anything. Finally making it out he places you down where the police cars and ambulances are located. He watches as you clumsily try to steady yourself holding onto his forearm for support.

Once you're steady he removes your hand from his arm getting ready to jump back into action. "If you're hurt the ambulance is right-" You let out a sharp gasp as you put both hands on your stomach and you feel a sharp pain in your abdomen.

"Oh no….I think….I think-"

"Listen I don't have time for this if you're hurt, the ambulance is right there they'll help you" Miguel rolls his eyes as he glances back to where the chaos is currently happening. He doesn't have time to babysit the longer the anomaly is here the harder it's going to be to put them back.

"No no no c-can you check for me I think something's wrong with the baby" You begin to feel your eyes fill with tears the moment you feel another sharp pain in your stomach.

"What baby are you talking about? Listen I need to go" Miguel takes a step back to observe you from head to toe. Trying to find any signs of injury. His eyes stop on your stomach that you're cradling. He finally takes notice of how big it is…

Fuck… you're pregnant?

"Spider-Man please can you check I think something's wrong….it hurts" The minute your eyes meet his breath hitches in his throat. He gets flashbacks of when his late "wife" expressed her discomfort with the baby that she was carrying. He lets out a deep sigh as he decides on what to do.

"Lyla scan her to see if anything is wrong" Lyla appears in front of him and gives him a salute. Turning around to face you she fazes in and out to get closer to you.

"Hey, pretty lady can you stand straight for me pretty please" He watches as you wipe your eyes before standing straight with one hand under your stomach. Lyla scans you from head to toe twice before going closer to you.

"You're baby is fine their right under your ribcage so that's why your feeling some pain. Your vitals are normal for someone who was just saved from a collapsing building but you need to take it easy maybe lie down for a bit"

"So they're okay?"

"They're okay" Lyla turns to Miguel and gives him a look. "Maybe you should take her-"

"You're dismissed"

"Thank you so so much I really appreciate it I-" Miguel cuts you off raising his right hand to stop you.

"I have to go….go over to the EMTs to double-check things" He watches as you nod before he runs off going back to help the others. Amidst the chaos he goes to deal with the anomaly subtly glancing over his shoulder to make sure you followed his orders.

•°~°•

It's been 5 hours since you’ve been discharged from the hospital the doctors said it was fine for you to leave. To say you were scared would be an understatement. If anything happened to your baby…..Sighing you place a gentle hand on your stomach blinking rapidly to keep your tears from falling. Crying won’t do you or your baby girl any good. Since you were already at the hospital it only made sense that you'd have your ultrasound appointment early and you found out you are having a baby girl. You cried the moment you heard the news you’ll do whatever it takes to give your baby girl the childhood you never had. A childhood filled with love and support from everyone around her. 

Forcing yourself out of your thoughts you walk over to your kitchen to get yourself something to drink. Since this grocery run was a complete disaster you’ll have to do it again tomorrow. Pouring yourself a glass of water you stare straight ahead at the clock. In about 45 minutes you’ll have to get ready for work. Since you came home you have done nothing but focus on making sure you stayed calm. For your sake and the baby’s. You’ve played calming music, cleared your thoughts, and done self-care you did it all. You know the little hologram told you to rest but you need the money. Since it’s a Monday night the bar shouldn’t be that packed. Maybe you’ll take a day off on Friday so you’ll have a long weekend. You quickly wash and put away your glass cup before making your way into your bedroom to get ready.

•°~°•

You should've known that it was going to be packed tonight. It’s a full house not a free chair in sight. You're convinced that the bar has turned into a club. People are dancing 3 fights have already broken out and you are only 4 hours into your shift and you unfortunately have 5 more to go. Your curls are pulled back into a low ponytail as you feel sweat dripping down the nape of your neck down your back. You're wearing a simple black top with a low v-neck paired with a black pleated skirt. Thankfully your top is loose so your bump isn’t visible plus 

An hour later your feet are aching and you’re really hungry. You need to take a break maybe sit down for a few have a drink of water or something.  You stare at the clock sighing as you read the time. It’s 2 am and you won't get off till six you won't make it that long. Grabbing a rag to wipe your hands you call for another bartender to take over while you take a break.

•°~°•

Miguel doesn’t know how he allowed them to talk him into this. After a long day of doing his job instead of being at HQ Ben and a few of the spiders that were working on the supermarket mission dragged him to a bar. Out of all the places they could’ve dragged him to they chose a bar…..He’s not really a fan of loud and crowded places he never has been. He doesn’t even know why they invited him he has nothing to add to the conversation. Staring at his drink menu he reluctantly looks over the options as he decides on what to get. It isn’t until he hears a few low whistles that he peeks over his menu. His eyes almost bug out his head when he sees you. 

What the hell are you doing here?

No matter how hard he tries he can’t seem to shake you off. It’s like everywhere he goes you’re there. His eyes follow your movements as you make your way to the customers. He watches as you move exceptionally fast taking orders while making drinks. You should not be working as a bartender as a pregnant woman. What in the world are you thinking? When he got back to HQ after dealing with the anomaly he asked Lyla to pull up any information she got from you when she scanned you for injuries. Not because he was curious only and only because he wanted to know who he was living next to. He found out your age, the school you attended, and the schools you attended before that. However, the most surprising information of all was that you’re married. You’ve been married for 5 years now. It’s weird because he’s never noticed a ring on your finger even now there’s still nothing he couldn’t even find out anything about your fiance. No name, no pictures, nothing. Even when he was brought inside your place against his will there were no signs of a man living with you. In fact, your place almost looked bare with only one 2 seater couch in the living room, and from the look of it, there was no TV either. 

But what kind of man would allow his pregnant wife to work as a bartender? Anyone should know that you shouldn’t be on your feet for long. Well…. you're another man's responsibility another man's problem so that has nothing to do with him. He is pulled out of his thoughts when he sees you making your way over to him. Turning his attention back to the menu he doesn't even bother to respond when you ask him for his choice of drink. 

When you don't hear him answer you move on to the next person which happens to be Ben.

“And what can I get you”

“You're too pretty to be working as a bartender” Miguel rolls his eyes at his comment. You tilt your head at the man before opening your mouth to speak.

“Sir what can I get you” 

“A Long Island iced tea” Miguel watches as you immediately begin making his drink.

“What are you doing after this pretty, are you going straight home?” 

“Yes I am….and here's your Long Island iced tea”

“Say you got a man to go back to?”

“No” You make your way past the guy to take another drink order.

“A boyfriend, husband?”

“No and double no”

“Great so you're-”

“Ben enough” You're eyes snap to meet the face of the voice and you wait patiently as they lower the drink menu. He stares Ben down in order to “tell” him to stand down. It isn't until Ben sighs and mumbles “Yes Dad” under his breath that Miguel turns his attention back to you. He stares at you for a moment before telling you his drink order.

“Whiskey” You give him a quick nod before you move to make his order. When you hand him his drink you don't bother looking at him. Miguel has to turn all his attention to the dark liquid in his glass if he doesn't he'll accidentally end up staring at you the whole time.

•°~°•

You feel a hole burning in the back of your neck. Why would someone ever stare at you like that? His gaze never wavers you feel his eyes on you as you move around the bar, take orders slide glasses down the bar, and as you ignore some men's advances. His glares make you uncomfortable you hate working when you know someone is actively judging you. Truthfully you almost dropped your glass in hand when he lowered the menu. The last time you saw him was when you accidentally thought he was going to hit you in the lobby. To say you are embarrassed would be an understatement and plus he's been rude to you since the very beginning. He's just weird….or more so you can't get a read on him.

It's now the end of your shift and you're currently wiping the bar down and washing the last of the glasses to get it ready for the next bartender. But yet he's still here you walk over to him to tell him that the bar will be closed for the next 5 hours when he slaps down a $50 dollar bill. You close up the register and walk in the back to get your bag. 

When you walk back out you let out a sigh of relief when you realize he's no longer at the bar. You walk outside and begin to walk home thankfully it's only a few blocks away. You could use your car but you only use it when you have to get groceries. You want to stay active with your baby. As you walk home you hear heavy footsteps behind you it's 6 in the morning and the sun isn't up yet however you can see the sky beginning to take a lighter shade.

Once reaching the end of a sidewalk waiting for your light you subtly turn around to see if there's anyone behind you and you immediately lock eyes with your neighbor. Too embarrassed you turn straight ahead you thought he left already. He can't be following you because he's most likely coming back home like you are. Sighing you focus all your attention on walking back home. Now that you think about it you're really hungry you could kill for a toasted bagel with cream cheese right now maybe add some bacon and pickles and- 

Oh, she's moving.

You pause briefly to rest a hand on your stomach. Maybe she knew that you were thinking about food.

You lower your voice whispering to your stomach. “Did you know I was thinking about food?” A few seconds later you feel her move again followed by a small kick. You laugh to yourself as you continue your journey home.

Finally making it back home you're digging in your mailbox when you notice that your neighbor is standing a few feet behind you by the lobby doors. Is he waiting for you to go upstairs? He's making you feel uneasy. Before your brain can formulate something to say to him you're already facing him and you open your mouth to speak.

“You're making me feel uncomfortable”

………..

Oh God, why in the world would you say that?

“Sorry, I-”

“I’m waiting for you to move from the mailbox” You watch as he folds his arms across his chest while sending the same glare that he was giving you earlier.

You take a nervous step back. Dammit, you shouldn't have said anything. “O-Oh I'm sorry I didn't know-”

“Of course, you didn't know…I'm keeping my distance since you thought I was going to put my hands on you the other day”

“Oh right listen about that I didn't mean to it was just a reflex and I-” He puts up a hand to prevent you from going any further.

“You don't need to explain anything to me…can you move your taking up space and I have things to do” You watch as he points to your stomach and you immediately put a hand over it. Taking up space? You're not even that big yet….Eager to get out of there you immediately close your mailbox making sure to grab your keys as you start your journey upstairs wishing him a goodnight. Is it too early to say you hate your neighbor?

•°~°•

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He’s just a baby. Hi baby :)

(eyes are a bit disproportionate, but otherwise I’m pretty proud of him :)

ok reverse the TROPE !!!!!! sugar-mommy!f!reader x retired!simon <333 (18+)

he got discharged on a medical injury. his knee flares up now, phantom pains that shoot up his leg and pinch his spine. he feels like a failure--a lieutenant in his prime, and now he has to acclimate to civilian life and grit his teeth instead of drown the voices in his head out with gunfire.

he's been deployed as much as he could be just to stay away from this kind of place. so he didn't have to get on a train, or take the tube. so he didn't have to think about looking over his shoulder in the shops or learn how to pay a wifi bill. he hates going to the doctor's office, and he hates learning how to properly open his bank account, just to learn that there's nearly nothing in it.

the numbers just dwindle before his very eyes. the rent is too high, even in his shitty studio. when did cable cost that much? why can't he go to the pub for just a few pounds anymore? where is the compensation for giving more than a decade of his life in service of his country just to have to wait in fucking lines to get his medication and argue over the phone about where all his fucking money went.

maybe he never had any. maybe it's all lost somewhere. he'd ask his former captain, but he's halfway across the world, and over his dead body would he hold a hand out and ask for charity when he's 36 years old.

"don't get that one."

simon turns his head, a snarl caught in his throat. there's a pretty thing standing beside him, also staring at the array of ramen packages in focus. you take the orange package out of his hand and put it back on the shelf before reaching for a different package. it's got japanese characters on it, so he can't read the label, but you smile up at him.

"this one is way better. good price for it, too."

"'s more expensive."

"yeah, but you get eight packets in this one. that one only gives you five."

at the till, you notice him subtly counting the notes in his wallet. you pretend not to notice, rocking back and forth on your heels, but just as he picks up his bag to leave, you speak up.

"you wanna get a drink? on me."

and fuck, he could use a bourbon. on the first one, he thought your presence was pleasantly tolerable. by the fourth, he's staring down your shirt, dark eyes mapping out what the curves of your breasts might look like in the palm of his big hand. by the sixth, you're pressed up against a sticky bathroom wall and holding on for dear life as he pounds into you from behind, knickers in his back pocket, manicured nails digging slits into his tattooed forearm.

you sink those claws in that night; and you do not let go.

the third night you ask him out, he sees your flat for the first time. in a nice building downtown, doorman holding the door open for you. the elevator ride is long enough for him to see the tops of buildings, and when you step inside your flat, he swallows hard when he realizes you are way out of his league.

gorgeous leather seats and couch. large tv with surround sound. a french kitchen with a gas stove. your flat is filled with knickknacks and candles, low yellow lights and wonderful collections of art and little glass vases and sculptures. your home is filled with warmth, and you don't belong with him.

just as he thinks about backing out of the place, you turn and grip the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. you touch your nose to his over his mask, smiling, and you push the door closed behind him and press him up against it.

"so, which room do you wanna christen first? i thought we could start in the kitchen."

you're a woman that knows what she wants, he'll give you that; and he doesn't have it in him to say no.

the sun wakes him up in the morning. he doesn't remember falling asleep--he doesn't like to make staying over a habit. when he sits up on his elbows, he takes a deep breath, realizing his back hurts a lot less. the mattress of your bed is wonderful, much more supportive than the flat mess he has on the floor in his own place, and he blinks himself awake when you come out of the bathroom.

you're freshly dressed, makeup on, and you're putting on your jewelry when you see him. you smile at him, coming towards the bed, and you bend down to kiss where his mouth would be under the mask.

"good morning, simon. sleep well?"

"mmm..."

you take that as a yes, cupping his jaw, and you kiss him over his mask again before going to get some shoes from your closet. he doesn't comment on the fact that when you open it, he realizes the closet there is only for shoes...

"you hungry, baby? want some breakfast?"

"i--oh..." simon lays back down when his back tweaks, and you reach for him when you see him fall back in the mirror. you smooth a hand down the side of his body, frowning.

"why don't you stay in bed? i'll have my assistant bring you something."

"no, tha's--"

"i'm not asking, simon, i'm telling you," you coo. you pick up one of his hands and trace one of his scars with your finger. you have long, almond-shaped nails. there's pretty chrome nail art over the wine red color you wear, and he focuses on it as you kiss his knuckles gently. "will you wait for me to come home?"

"where y'goin'?"

"gotta work, honey," you wink down at him. "and i want you to be here when i get back."

"tha' so?"

"mhm," you smile. "right here. in my bed--" you lift the covers a little and peek, giggling as you put it back down after getting a glimpse at his cock resting against his lower stomach. "just like this, simon."

he doesn't remember if he ever goes back to his flat. he thinks he went one more time, to grab a few bottles of his medication, but the tick in his knee hadn't been so bad with the great physical therapy you started paying for and the warm massages you gave him every night.

and his back--your bed always contours perfectly against the muscles of his back, and he finds himself sleeping a full seven hours every single night.

not to mention his new work outs. simon hadn't been to the gym much since coming home, but he knows he must be burning hundreds of calories with you. you test his limits. as soon as you're home, you jump on him, and the stress relief your pussy brings him is just what he needs to get the edge off. you're a fiend, especially after a rough day, and the way you bounce on his cock in every room of your flat keeps him up at night sometimes with the most glorious wet dreams.

you're up late that night. you're curled up on the couch in one of simon's shirts and a glass of red wine, and there's a mountain of papers around you that you're focusing on reading. you have a huge presentation tomorrow, and everything needs to be perfect. simon comes into the living room, shirtless, and you smile when you see him standing there. he's wearing the new sweats you got him, but you can't focus on that too much when you're staring at his pudgy, toned stomach and his nice pecs. you bite your lip, taking a long sip of your wine, and simon hikes up his mask to take a bite out of his bowl of ice cream.

"gonna be up late tonight?" he asks, and you nod. "want me to sit with ya?" you nod again, lifting up your legs, and when he takes a seat next to you, you drape them across his lap. you lean over to give his scarred cheek a kiss, and when you turn back to your paperwork, a thought comes across your mind.

"we should get married," you say softly, circling a note over something. simon keeps eating, as if what you said doesn't phase him.

"why's tha', love?"

"tax benefits."

"mmm..." simon drops one of his hands and thumbs against your ankle. the flat is warm. his stomach is full. his body hurts less, and his heart aches with something nice. "olright then."

you smile.

"good. cause i already bought the ring."

"The only dangerous minority is the rich"

Pasteups in NYC

Amen.

messing around with simon's face again...

Part 1

3.5k, cw: ghosts a pervert and stalker, readers husband is a piece of work, brief mentions of sex, explicit, not proofread

Simon Riley wasn’t one for the romantics, he was a simple man. Wake up early in the morning just as he would on base, complete his training regimen, take a quick shower, and rot away in his one bedroom one bathroom apartment until he's recalled for a mission. A mundane life for the soldier who dealt with life-or-death circumstances just as many times as he’s brewed himself a cup of tea.

But even Simon had things to look forward to. After enduring the monotonous routine of his week he’d practically sprint to the butcher's shop, not for love of the finer cuts of meat one could find, but to see his bird. 

Still the fittest thing he had ever seen, your relationship evolved from standing with your back turned to his debauched stares to you actually saying hello to him. Slowly hello turned to little conversations. By conversations, it mainly consisted of you prattling on about one thing or another while Simon grunted out a short “yeah?” or “hm.” Sometimes he felt bad that his pretty little thing who always had endless things to say spoke to him, someone who was pretty much a brick wall in conversation.

But, ah well. He couldn’t think of you banging on the headboard while he fucked you and fully pay attention to what was said in his defense.

At times he didn’t know whether to scold or praise your ability to dole out kindness to even a cold bastard like him. A stranger was what he was, and you still managed to speak to him as if he were any other man you’d meet on the street.

He didn’t deserve it, he knew that. Not with the things he has done to others. Things that would send your pretty little head toppling off your shoulders if you knew. Not with the way he prowled behind as you shakily made your way up the slippery sidewalk, plastic bag with groceries in hand.

He didn’t deserve it, but he was sure as hell certain your fuckwit of a husband definitely didn’t deserve it. That prick left you walking alone and cold the whole way home, letting you know minutes before he was supposed to pick you up from the butcher’s shop. 

That pathetic guy didn’t want to take care of his wife? Didn’t want to pay attention to his girl? Well fine, he didn’t need to. Simon would. 

As if it physically pained him to watch you have to lift a finger, he sped up his pace and loudly cleared his throat from behind.

Whirling around in fright, your tensed shoulder immediately relax upon meeting Simon’s eyes. Your body shivered from the winds, yet you beamed at him with the warmth of the fuckin’ sun. 

“Simon! What are you doing here?” You chirped out in greeting, clasping your hands together as the bag dangled from your fingers. You waited for him to stalk up to you, broody as ever. 

His pretty little songbird, who tweets out her hellos even when the frigid weather demands a more mellow tone.

In his usual unsettling manner, he stops right in front of you. “I live up this way.” He lied. 

“Really?! I’ve never seen you coming up this way.” He was so close. He had to crane his neck downwards to look at your face, cheeks and nose probably frozen from the biting wind. Your brows furrowed in what he assumed to be suspicion, and he truly wondered for the first time if you actually had a semblance of survival instinct after all.

Raising a brow, he points to a random building in the distance. He picked something far enough away from your own home to quell any unease.You lived in that reddish-brown building about two blocks away. Though you’ve never told him that.

“Just righ’ up there. Usually don’t go this way, but the other route is closed off.”

Your furrowed brows quickly correct themselves at his words and you assume your resting expression, one much softer. “Well… we might as well head up together then!” You laughed in joy and Simon felt his cock twitch for similar reasons. It seems the concept of “stranger danger” wasn’t drilled into your head hard enough during your formative years. 

He’d never dream of doing something to hurt your cheery demeanor, but he couldn’t say the same for others. People can be nasty and, if you survived this long without that bubble being burst, he’d be more than happy to tear apart the prick who’d try. Pricks like your husband.

Wasn’t it a soldier's duty to protect the peace? Something like that anyways. 

He noticed the way your poor fingers stiffly held on to the bag, the weight harder to carry because of the chill in the air. His hands itched to help.

You quirked your head to the side due to his lack of anything to say and Simon merely jutted his head towards what you carried, “Give it ‘ere.” Your mouth opens to protest, but Simon doesn’t give you the opportunity as he easily plucks the bag from your hands. “Come on,” He began to walk again while ignoring his bird’s shrill whistles of objection to his help “You’ll catch a cold out ‘ere if we don get’cha inside soon.”

Catching up to his long strides, you approach from the right and sigh. You’re inclined to tell him it’s really not necessary, but the heat that bloomed in your chest as a result of his breathy chuckle interrupted you.

You didn’t even need to ask him to help... he just did. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes wondered about his large frame, and he was huge. You had to admit the first time you had spoken to Simon you were a bit rattled when you stuck your hand out to shake his. It was maddening the way he never made a sound, the way his steps quietly padded along the floor when he went up to the counter at the butcher’s shop to pay. 

Occasionally you felt your skin prickle everytime he stood behind you. Whenever you gathered the courage to take a peek you would be met with the sight of him tapping away at his phone without a care, hood of his jacket concealing most of his face. 

Though you could’ve sworn his phone was upside down once?

Cars whizzed past and you shook away those thoughts. Simon happens to be a quiet type, nothing to judge him for. 

“... Thank you. You know, you’re a real nice guy.” Shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket, Simon slows his steps just enough to move behind you. “Simon?” You turn your head side-to-side in confusion as he nudges his way to your other side.

“Wha’?” He huffed while putting himself between you and the road. 

Odd.

The two of you got closer to the building and in a practiced stop you both pause at the entrance. About to speak again, you’re cut off by the loud ring of your phone. Looking down you see your husband's photo pop up on the screen. With a sigh, you hold up a finger to your companion and answer.

“Hey hun, is something wrong? You said you had a meeting?” You could hear the exhale of annoyance which escaped him before he responded.

“I’m working late tonight. I can’t make it for dinner. Make sure to leave me a plate before you go to bed though.” Of course. He was always late nowadays. One project or another he would say before rolling to face away when you asked him about his day before bed. 

You were his wife! You’d make time for him no matter what, and normally you wouldn’t want to be a bother, but the way tears threatened to bead your waterline in frustration caused your voice to harden a fraction.

“Again? Really? They’re working you a bit hard, don’t you thi-” 

“I have work. I’ll talk to you later.” 

You blink owlishly at Simon who looks back in silence. You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Slowly, you pull your phone away from your ear both saddened by your husband's cold words but also the humiliation of your new friend witnessing the way you were clearly hung up on by your own spouse.

You wanted to turn heel and retreat into the privacy of your apartment. Cook up a meal which will grow cold on the counter and curl into your bed while incessantly tracking the minutes until you hear the door open.

Simon’s eyes narrowed as if he wanted to burn a hole through your phone, and he waited for you to gather yourself.

“I- um,” letting out an awkward chortle, you scratch the back of your neck. “Looks like I'm alone for dinner tonight.” You managed a disingenuous smile. Simon didn’t seem like the type to be able to pick up on subtle social cues like that, you doubt he’d think anything of your words.

“Well I better get back inside… it's freezing out here. Thanks for your help with my bags I-I just have to get started on cooking right now, so.” You reached for your groceries and saw the strange look in his eyes soften a bit. As you pivot towards the entrance, you hear a gruff call.

“ ‘m pretty hungry righ now.”

…How could you be such an idiot! He carries your bags for you, probably chilled to the point of numbness, and you don’t even invite him in for something to eat. Not even a hot drink. All because of your own selfish discomfort?!

“Oh gosh, that was rude of me. Simon, you wanna come in? I have enough to whip you up a plate if you’d like. A ‘cuppa’ as well. Is that what you say?” You asked.

Simon was a kind man. He was intimidating, but surely it was okay to let him into your personal space. After all, the only person who would object to his presence was currently holed up at his office.

“Brought it up for a reason. That’d be great, love.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart pattered in your rib cage at the endearing pet name. Kind words from a kind man. That’s all. You willed your heart to slow with images of your husband, to whom you had the utmost respect for.

The two of you made your way up to the spacious apartment. You bent over to unlace your shoes and take off your coat. It doesn’t go unnoticed how it took Simon a moment to follow suit. When he stood to his full height, a gentle warmth swelled within you when met with the sight of his broad build in the now seemingly small walls of your home. He looked as though he crowded the room more than any of the furniture.

You felt a bit hazy when you moved to the kitchen. You shouted back to Simon who stood put at the door, “Feel free to make yourself comfortable! Go ahead and sit down anywhere.”

Like a flower, you needed your fix of sunlight. You had lots of windows in your apartment to let the natural light in, a giant one looking into your living room. Simon would see you watching your silly shows, tapping away at your laptop while snuggled under a blanket in this very spot. Soon he’d show you the value of privacy, closing the blinds, locking everything before bed. 

There were shady people in the world. Those who’d feed off of your sweet carelessness like it was the best thing to touch their depraved mouths. That wasn’t fair to his bird. 

“ ‘m gonna go to the loo.” and before you even had the chance to give him directions, you watched the Brit make his way to the restroom unprompted.

It wasn’t fair, but he would make it fair. He would keep those bastards far away from you, guard your blissful paradise. Keep you ignorant.

So what if his methods were unconventional? So what if he’s followed you home dozens of times. It was to keep you safe. So what if he spent any free time he had watching you through the windows from the building across yours. 

Closing the door behind him, his lips quirked up at the sight of your things strewn about. Makeup, hair products, lotions taking up all the space on your side of the sink. In the mirror, his eyes caught on the laundry hamper sat in the corner. He had been here once before.

So what if he has come into your apartment during the late hours just to catch a whiff of your scent. Just to pull the blanket you had knocked off, deep asleep, while on the couch waiting for your prick husband. You needed someone. He could do good by you, or at least try his hardest to.

With practiced ease, he turns to open the hamper. Hands grabbing with the eagerness of unwrapping a present only to be met with a sorry sight.

“For fuck sakes”  He whispered.

You and your cleaning. The damn thing had been emptied out of all things with your lovely fragrance, tossed in the wash. With the quick roll of his eyes, he quietly puts the lid back on to the stupid thing.

He had been much luckier last time. After taking it upon himself to sneak in and close a window you left wide open, he had the urge to explore around. Fast forward to when he arrived at his treasure chest (the laundry basket) he was rewarded for his considerate act. He had nabbed a dirty pair of panties with sheer ecstacy. 

In the natural progression of things, his cock had hardened with urgency. He had stroked himself eagerly to the thought of your soft, snoozing breaths. A bead of pre-cum already poised to roll down his shaft. You drove him mad, only a few walls separating the two of you. He could walk over to you now, shove your legs apart and sink himself into paradise, in pure euphoria. He continued to jerk himself to the edge of his peak. He had taken in the sight of everything from your loofah to your robe to the pink toothbrush unobtrusively in the corner.

A shiver went down his spine as he looked at the very same toothbrush at present. He wondered how many times you had unassumingly used it since that night.

Images of his desperation flooding back, a hint of something akin to guilt. He had squeezed your panties to his face as if he was trying to suffocate himself, impatiently grabbing for anything else that could connect him to you when he felt himself begin to strain under the stimulation. He had grunted when your scent filled his nostrils, unlike how his balls emptied themselves, his release spurting all over your toothbrush.

When he came back to his senses, he had turned the coated thing over and over in his hand. You’d be none the wiser if he just… washed it off, right? No harm in something you wouldn’t know about. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than lightly run it under the tap.

“Simon! Food is ready!” You shouted. Breaking from his stupor, he steps out of the restroom and moves back to the counter overlooking the kitchen. You gave him that sweet grin while setting the food in front of him.

“Looks delicious, love. Thanks.”

You sat on the seat beside him with a plate of your own. You both tensed at the proximity for the same reason. Taking your first few bites, you look at Simon who blissfully closes his eyes and groans with satisfaction.

That warm feeling begins to simmer in your belly wrongfully so. You turn back to chew before breaking the silence. “I’m glad! It’s been a while since i’ve sat down and ate with someone… it’s a lot different to watch someone actually enjoy something you put effort into.” He didn’t miss the wistful expression you wore. He wanted to fix it, he never wanted to see that pretty mouth fighting stay curved upwards.

Whether it be unknowingly or not, you brushed your knee against and for a moment you both paused in that position. The touch was light but it felt as though Simon’s body was overloaded with only you. Your touch, your eyes, your everything.

It took himself a second to recompose himself, but when he realized your body stayed put; his heart just about soared. Taking another forkful of food, he casually glanced at you and nudged his knee unmistakably to yours. The sound of your cutlery clanging onto the plate gives him a degree of satisfaction.

You simply kept looking down to your plate, whatever was in front of you, anything except his intense stare. Simon was a stranger. Simon was unsettling. Simon was in your home. Simon was so strong, so large he could manhandle you in ways your husband could never.

Your husband. Your life partner who you’ve remained loyal to for years. This was so wrong. You should be leaping out of your chair and separating yourself by 3 meters at least in protest.

So how come you allowed his hand to grip your thigh? You frowned, yet surrendered to his fingers which tilted your face towards him. You didn’t know Simon, but you’d be dense to miss the dark glint in his eyes as he takes in your hesitancy.

How the tables have turned. It was always you who initiated interaction with the morose giant, but as he held you firm in his clutches, you could only sit in wait for his next move. 

Testing your reaction, he slowly brought his face closer to yours. Braving his gaze, you could only recognize want. He pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw as you tilted your chin upwards. You weren’t sure whether it was to avoid his lips or grant him better access to your neck.

“No no no come back to me. Come back.” He urged you carding his other hand through your hair, tugging you back. He had to see his bird's face, commit her to memory. Would her expression be like what he imagined? Better?

With a shaky raise of your arm, you caress his face with uncertainty. He needed to fuck you. The most depraved, wicked parts of his mind demanded it. His blood went straight down south at your gentle touch. He needed you to feel him, to feel all of him. 

He would protect you from all the perversions those other tossers had to offer, with only one thing in return. To corrupt you from the inside with his own special brand filth. His fingers tightened ever so slightly in your hair.

“I wanna fuck you,” he leaned closer to your ear and nipped it “and I have a feeling my pretty bird wants the same thing, yeah?”

Simon’s words sent a jolt to your brain to sink further into the daze. Your lips parted and you turned to him with round eyes hiding the temptation swirling behind them. Your eyes wildly roved across his face, searching

He carried your things, he called you pretty, he ate your food, he talked to you, he wanted you, he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to want to fuck him, you want to fuck him, you want to fuck him, you want to fuck him-

His impatience got the better of him when he pulled you into a frantic kiss. His lips were warm and the feeling of his hands holding you secure and upright only added fuel to the fire. How would they hold you when he took you to your bed? Would he be so kind?

Had Simon known your phone would ring loudly moments before finally getting what he wanted, he would have broken it with his own bare hands.

Your eyes cracked open to only be met with the sight of your husband’s contact photo and all at once your guilt hurtled at you. Sensing you pulling away, Simon couldn’t help but try and keep you to him for even a moment longer. He knew it was over when you pushed at his chest to break the connection.

“I’m- oh my gosh. I… i’m a horrible person! Shit! Shit!” You spiraled as you hurriedly got up from your seat and backed away from Simon as if his touch had burned you.

“Hey, hey it’s okay-” He attempted to console you, but was sharply interrupted with a tone he had yet to hear from you.

“No, no! You need to leave. Get out, please!” You screeched in shame. As Simon once again tried to approach closer to placate you, you only put a hand up with a hard look. “Leave. We shouldn’t have done that, it was a total betrayal of trust!” 

“Okay. Okay. Don’t worry, ‘m gone.” His arms went up in surrender as he mirrored your own backward movements.

Your mind really went blank as you took deep breaths to calm yourself, Simon’s heavy footfalls receding and eventually fading from earshot entirely.

While you focused on calming yourself from your “mistaken” judgement, Simon could only think of one thing. 

If his bird couldn’t be happy because that fuckin’ asshole was still in the picture, he’d have to weed out the problem from the root.

He was a dead man walking.

Puff, Puff, Pash (Part 1)

Eddie Munson x f!Reader | SFW | 3.4K

In which the domino effect of a lost lighter leads the reader to realise she has feelings for Eddie.

Content: drug use (marijuana), two idiots dancing around the fact that they’re head over heels for each other, Eddie can’t keep his hands to himself

A/n: If this fic gets reaches 20 comments & 20 reblogs I’ll post the smutty part 2!

Jason Carver is many things: rude, condescending, hot-headed. But if there’s one thing he knows how to do well, it’s scout fun locations to get fucked up in.

Abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of town, convention halls after hours, and even once, the entertainers’ tent when the circus was performing in Hawkins. You still had no idea how he’d managed to convince them to facilitate a party for a bunch of rowdy teens.

You hadn’t attended many, despite the invitation often being extended (perks of being a cheerleader, you guessed), because the promise of an incredible night didn’t seem worth the worry of how you’d be getting home. That was, until you met Eddie.

“You still sure this is a good idea?” He asked for the third time as you rounded up the path, toward an old, broken radio tower. The music was already thumping, the soundwaves travelling across the field up through your ankles.

In response, you linked your arm through his, giving his bicep a playful pinch. “Nope. But it’s a fun one.”

Keep reading

Life is way easier if you just use a character creator 😭❗️

This is my arcane oc, they’re unnamed and have no lore yet but I love them :) My art is getting better!!!

I will be heard bro 💀

content - cussing , slightly dirty thoughts,

I had a thinky thought about my husband. Because I love my husband.

Single!Black!Mother!Reader x Neighbor!Jason Todd. Ugh.

Jason who lives across the hall, who you suspect is Red Hood. You never call him out on it, or even ask—you just know. And he knows that you know. Lots of people know. But the people of Crime Alley care too much 'bout him to acknowledge it. He did good by them, so they did good by him in return.

Because you know what he's capable of, and because you've seen him care about his community before, you trust him with your life.

And your kid's.

You don't explain to him that you need him to play babysitter, you just knock on the door across from yours with your kid at your side and your keys in your palm.

You're all dolled up 'cause you'd gotten this interview for this job that was perfect for you. That would pay better, and you need to make the best possible impression—kinks perfectly gelled, cheeks blushed, lashes curled, lips all glossy.

You don't notice how his eyes take in the way the grey slacks you wore hug your hips a bit too tight. Or how his eyes get caught on the soft swell of your tits straining against what's meant to be (but failing to be) a loose fitting Red blouse.

You look phenomenal in his color. He thinks, for the briefest of moments, that you did it on purpose.

You look good enough to eat. And when you part those beautifully full, glossy lips—he feels set up. Like you knew he couldn't possibly dream of ever denying you.

"Please."

Fuckin' hell, you say that word so god damn pretty. You're so god damn mother fuckin' pretty. He always thought you had the biggest, prettiest eyes. Wide and dark, like a doe. He wonders, crudely, what they'd look like rolled into the back of your head.

So Jason huffs, and opens the door wider—unlike you, he doesn't miss cues. He sees how you relax, how you smile slightly, how your eyes catch on his face. If he didn't know better he'd think you liked him as much as he liked you.

He watches as you kiss your kid's cheek (envy burns in his stomach that he has to douse) and say he'll take care of them while momma goes to her interview. He loathes when you leave. Wants to tell you to come back, that he'll take care of you. That you didn't have to worry 'cause he was makin' money and he'd happily pay your rent, baby, all you had to do was say the fuckin' word.

He doesn't close the door until he's finished watchin' you walk down the hall. God, those fuckin' slacks, he loves watchin' you walk away.

Your child pouts as he situates them on his couch. He has to flip a little to find qubo, where Jacob Two-Two is in the middle of repeating a sentence.

"I want my momma.."

The kid whines.

He sighs.

"She 'bouta come back. Momma's just gotta go out for a minute, kid."

He swallows down what he really wanted to say. Swallows down a groan, because he's in the presence of a child and he wouldn't dream of exposing a kid to his inner thoughts.

'Christ, kid, I want your fuckin' momma too.'

CW: 18+ MDNI, mech!ghost x pilot!reader, scifi, noncon/dubcon elements, guided masturbation, tempature play, voyeurism - 1.6K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Another long night in the cockpit.

You could only grin and bear it at this point. Reaching compatibility with your assigned vessel was slowly eating away at your psyche- and worst of all, you couldn’t even leave; not when your prospected affinity levels with the infamous machine had been deemed unprecedented, and certainly not when you knew what happened to deserters.

Conscription was non-negotiable these days; the large colony you had grown up in now ravaged by some otherworldly force and desperately bleeding out resources in response, be it weaponry, rations, or bodies.

The faction had been gifted the GH-05t Mech as an act of goodwill, but ask any official and you’d be informed that the powerful, unused machine would serve better as scrap parts- the real kicker being that they were no longer equipped with the resources or the manpower to dismantle the damned thing. 

GH-05t was a battle vessel; had been lauded as a ground-breaker and a boundary-pusher with the integration of an intelligent battle protocol system, all trained posthumously off the stored memories of some long-dead pilot, surely without his consent- Simon, they had named it in an attempt to make it more user friendly and assistant-like in nature.

Hubris. The system failed to run, turning the fully-functional mech into a glorified mountainous paperweight due to all of the instrumental functions being locked behind unresponsive intelligence. You speculated that the machine had passed hands to save face- to keep the public hopeful despite the system refusing to wake up.

-Wake up. You groaned, slapping lightly at your face.

You hated it here, longing for lazy days on the bleak outer walls, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas and rustling long grass as you waited for your father to get back from the drillsite. Your parents had been so proud when officials showed up at your dilapidated front porch, neat suits, shining eyes, and big smiles blissfully ignoring the very same surroundings they had left to rot;  all while you reeled internally- shaken by the worst news you had received in your life. It was a death sentence. 

It had been years since that day, and you were absolutely sure you had only been given a position like this because of some made-up numbers all while they tried to remind you that you were special, somehow different from your peers.

All damned to the same fate in your eyes.

“-load of shit.” you hissed, rubbing at the uncomfortable neuro-valve hooked into the back of your flight suit. Frustrated, you kicked at the mechanical console snug against your leg, the low rumbling whirr of the machine staying the same in response- apathetic to your misdirected rage. 

A moment passed before you finally leaned back in your seat with a grimace.

You still weren’t used to the flight suits in the mech pilot regs. You almost missed the starchy cargo pants that were worn throughout training- both had been unbearably stiff, but at least the latter hadn’t been so form-fitting.It always freaked you out a bit; the pilot suits were more akin to sleek exodermis, responsive and shock absorbent- It felt wrong to have something so foreign covering your entire body; unnatural. 

Your hips squirmed in the seat, friction suddenly becoming apparent the more you thought about it. The low tone of your monitored vitals raised gradually with the fuzzy heat beginning to shamefully pool in your gut; making you all too glad these late night bonding-sessions were done in an all but abandoned mech bay- your observed progress dwindling along with your prospects as time went on without result. 

Grinding into the seat, you swallowed back the thick saliva coating your mouth, teeth catching on your dry bottom lip as you held back a low, audible shudder; eyes fluttering shut. 

The bulky panel separating your legs became all too appealing as you acknowledged the press of it at your sealed cunt, nudging your apex into the blunt peak while your gloved hands curled around the padding of the built-in armrests.

Then, there was a pulse at your core. 

Eyes snapping open, you became all too aware that the sensation hadn’t come from your body. Straightening up in your seat you were met with a dull blinking text on the panel that had never been there before- 

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: LOADING’

You were rooted in place as you witnessed the glowing, digital bar slowly fill.

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: ONLINE’

You scrambled to pull at the neuro-valve connecting your suit to the mech, only for the small port’s flight locks to engage; a stark hiss emitting from the cockpit door’s airlock.

“Disengage locks.” you commanded, completely lost on what was happening. 

There was a low, fractured robotic groan directly in your comms “-Fuck…” the voice was deep, aggressively masculine and breathy in your ear- the sound holding more human emotion than you were prepared to rationalize. “Where am I?”

“-Disengage locks.” you repeated firmly. 

“What the fuck is this?” he snarled, apparently coming to as he barked out questions, disoriented. “-Who are you- why are you in m’head- Fuck, why can’t I see?” 

Your suit was flexing and constricting, going haywire in the confusion. “C-calm down!” you stuttered, a pendulum in your head swinging between gripping dread and the low, heady heat of unmet needs. “Just-Just let me see if I can fix this.” 

Panting shakily, you swiped at the flight panel’s screen- spotting something containing the words ‘optical’ and ‘sensors’, you tapped frantically.

There was an audible wince deep in your ear, then a growling hum met with silence.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“-You’re a memory bank- not a person.” you asserted, clarification necessary when it came to a massive mobile death machine.”c-can you lay off the suit, please?”

A pulsing wave passed the length of your suit as he listened to your embarrassed response over the comms, the sound of his voice bouncing around in your head. “Fuck, bet tha’ feels nice, yeah?”

A whine bubbled at your lips before you could stop it. “I- You’re not l-listening, Simon.” 

There was a long silence following your plea- air electric and tense.

“Tha’ name- How do you know it?”

“N-not the point!” you argued, only to be met with a full body squeeze- a threat. “-It’s the name of the o-operating system! P-please!”

He relented, your chest heaving as your muscles released tension.

“Well, if you know me...”

The screen flashed with a notice. 

‘[Main Cockpit Camera Feed - Status: Active]’

Followed by another

‘[Manual Override - Feed Transmission Blocked]’

“-Keep things between us, yeah?” 

Your head swivelled around to look for a camera, landing on a lackadaisical red blink coming from right above the reinforced windshield.

“You're a sight, aren’t you?" listening closely, you could hear the audible scroll of the lens focusing.

You frowned. “Let me out-”

You gasped as a cold heat focused at your core, reminding you that your suit’s temperature regulating measures were completely under his control. “-No need for fuss, we were just getting t’know each other.”

“Th…” you paused, panting softly. “-This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s not to get, Love?” there was a pause as your seat adjusted forward, bumping your cunt into the console. “Give us a show, yeah?”

You whimpered in response, pressure unbearable.

“Look at you.” he snarled, the deep sound goading your rocking hips onward. “Fuck- Wish I could taste you…”

There was a small noise from the screen that had your heavy lids pulling upwards- database bringing up the low-res file of a soldier. 

“-Look at the man doing this to you, love.” 

Your lips parted, eyebrows drawing downwards in confusion as you looked at the attached image; a masked man with voids for pupils staring back at you.

“Y-You’re not-” you gasped as a concentrated cold rushed your breast, nipples pearling up uncomfortably at the sensation- the friction of your undergarments and the newly dropping temperatures sending your head soaring as your hips worked at grinding into the blunt metal.”-not r-real.”

“-I am.” His voice was a sharp, humorous growl that threatened you to challenge his word, followed by a single deep laugh. “Eyes up- on me, love.”

Your head bobbed as you glanced lazily at the file, unable to make any sense of the written data- not that it mattered anyway.

“Think you can finish for me?”

The suit pulsed rhythmically as you practically humped your seat with eyes screwed shut, the humiliation of your current position itching at something unfamiliar deep in your abdomen. With flushed cheeks, you chased the bubbling pot that made a home in your gut; willing it to boil over.

 “Look at me.” he ordered. “Need you to look at me.” 

Glancing at the screen in a haze, the exomuscles of your suit flexed in response.

“No- Up.”

your head shot towards the camera, holding contact with the whirring lens as the overstimulation finally became too much- pussy fluttering in euphoria with elbows bracing you, hips pathetically grinding out the high. 

Struggling to catch your breath, you slumped back into the chair- gears adjusting your seat back into a comfortable position.

“Good.” the voice in your ear barked, before lowering incrementally. “-Good…”

The screen lit up with a notice that compatibility requirements had been met- although it didn't mean much to you in your state; chest heaving slowly while you tried to make sense of what happened. 

“Gonna’ let you out- but this has got to stay our secret, yeah?” 

You swallowed, eyelids tugging open as your suit tensed in warning.

“How copy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good,” he paused. “-don't need anyone but you poking around up here.”