awsumswuce !!

teamUSAsnowboardertasm!peter x teamCanadaFigureskaterF!Reader || WC: 3.15K

-when your olympic team goes into Cortina village without you, your teammate left a questionable crush, Peter Parker, in your head. when the power went out throughout the whole olympic village, guess who shows up at your dormstep?

tags : slight crack, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough,0 use of Y/N, major use of side characters (Hi Hattie!!), voluntary proximity, Team Canada being your second family, both you and peter are 18!, peter being the most awkward person oat, mentions of ex gf Gwen Stacy (at least shes not dead), winter version of summer olympic cardboard beds.

authors note !- hey party people! feels like its been forever (or 6 months) since i wrote on this blog. i missed it and it doesn't help that life's been a bitch for everybody recently. it took me wayyy too long to write this and im kinda happy with the final results. since winter is obviousy coming to an end, im excited to have more free time to write more! enjoy!!!

credits to @uzmacchiato for dividers!!

“Come on, you’re in Milan— this is the last place to be a homebody.”

Your teammate cooed, trying to shake you from your anchored stance. Your body had sat idle, refusal written through your facial expressions.

“And do what, Hattie? Watch you and a good portion of ‘Canada’s most prosperous winter athletes’ get shit-faced, and I have to drag a few, I don’t know,— 30 — back to the mobile homes? I refuse— no! I happily disapprove of my even stepping out of this room.” Your refusal was immediately met with a disapproving sigh, but your stance was clear.

18 in Milan? Watching a group of 30-some shameless Men and Women flirt with other athletes and listen to their perverted thoughts being publicized to anyone who dares to indulge? Absolutely not. You had just gotten off the plane, and the idea itself was overstimulating enough. A good tea and book would keep you afloat. But, as expected, your teammate was persistent.

“You are seriously out of your mind. Never mind us, this is also a chance to meet new faces, talk to new faces—hell— kiss new faces!” You hurtled a pillow at her as soon as the idea was sketched on her face.

“Haha. Mature,” your response was monotone, but the concept had made your heart flutter. Surely it’s just to get to your head, but unfortunately, it worked.

The sight of your gears turning gave a victorious reaction to your teammate, moving her to sit next to you. She snatched your phone, seemingly typing your password. You tried to act like it didn’t bother you; it was just her being stupid.

“Hattie, don’t search dumb shit on my phone. Go out, have fun, I’ll be—“Ah Ha!”— what?” You overlapped her shoulder, staring at the screen curiously, earning a snort from Hattie. There was the Roster of Team USA, 232 pictures littering the screen.  She had scrolled to the men's snowboarding section, a group of 49 on the screen.

“Where is he?” Hattie’s eyes scanned the screen till she pressed on the seemingly youngest athlete on the roster. Oh my…

“Violà. The youngest snowboarder on team USA. 18 year old professional snowboarder, Peter Parker.” The sight of him had made your past fluttering problem relocate to your stomach. Eye candy was the most respectful way to describe him. He had a nerdy charm, but it didn’t overpower his strong facial features. His eyes were coffee brown, and his hair was messy and lush but it fit him. Overall, he was gorgeous. You had stared at his picture till your eyes started stinging, but it felt worth it just to gaze at him.

“He..” She pointed at the screen, staring at you,

“He could be out tonight, and you’re giving it up for books?” she whined. But—what if?

What if he was strolling in Cortina, roaming and looking for someone, rather than something?

You looked at Hattie desperately and sighed, giving her a look.

“A guy like that..” You mumbled, carding your hair anxiously, “…has no chance of being single. Have fun, Hattie, get out of my head… and room.”

Hattie snorted and got up, wiping her pants. “I tried. Have fun by yourself.” She smiled and walked out. Leaving your minds’ defenses destroyed by the idea of what ifs. You found your head on your pillow, imagining the curves from the popcorn ceiling to be mountains. You mumbled curses about Hattie, hoping the worst for her hangover.

Ping!

You rocked your head towards the sudden sound of your phone going off, sitting up and recollecting your thoughts.

Hades: I’ll see if I spot him in the wild, babe. Wish me luck!

You tossed the phone, leaving it dangling at the end of your bed.

Much to Hattie’s surprise, you had found solace in your books, packing a few books to keep yourself entertained. Well, they were packed to keep you entertained.

Now their use is much more suited to be described as a distraction.

You flipped through pages, but you couldn’t find retention within the sentences. Rereading didn’t help either. This was the only book you had packed that didn’t have an overwhelming undertone of romance to it, but even it was too much.

But it seemed everything had been ‘too much.’

The stiffness of the chair,

The roughness from the Sherpa carpet,

The overwhelming warmth from the fireplace?

You knew you were in over your head.

You let out a defeated groan, placing the book down and closing your eyes, hoping your thoughts wouldn’t betray you and succumb to the ‘what ifs.’

knock..

knock…

….

knock..?

You could feel the hesitation through the door, but you still got up to answer. You lazily dragged your feet, guessing it was just a drunken teammate who miraculously found their way to you.

You heard soft mumbling from the other side of the door, your curiosity finally kicking in. You twist the door handle and open the door cautiously, open enough to get a good look at the unexpected visitor.

Peeping, you caught a glimpse…

oh..!

You immediately slammed the door, letting out a particularly high-strung screech. Surely your eyes are blurry from the jumbled words, but there is no way, no chance…

Immediately feeling guilt, you flung the door open, trying to pick up the pieces of resolve you still had left. He hadn’t moved from his spot, probably still in shock, but your eyes weren’t wrong.

Peter Parker was standing an arm's length away from you.

So much for going out.

The apologies spilled out as fast as they had come into your brain.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? I don’t know what got into me, that’s so embarrassing-“

“No, no- it’s fine your fine, it’s just uh- I’m uh—hi...”

His unparalleled kindness made you truly realize how deep into this you actually were.

Heat crawled up your face, and hoping your fluster wasn’t visible, you gave him a shaky smile, “hi..”

“I-I’m Parker- Peter. Peter Parker. I just uh- just wanted to see if your power was still on?” You paused for a second, confused at the question. Why wouldn’t it be working? That’s when you decided to take a closer glance at him. Check if he might’ve been drunk, of course.

His hair was dripping wet, and he still had water running down his face. He must’ve been cold.

“Uhm- no? I mean mine is working just fine, I don’t—“VRRRR..!”—“ both you and Peter draw your attention to the back of the room, where suddenly in that same instance, everything has shut off.  Heat, water, lights. Gone.

“Shit.”

You and Peter glanced at each other before he put on a what you personally perceived as a guilty smile.

“I must be bad luck, huh?”

You smiled politely even though you didn’t want to say it out loud. “It’s fine, my fireplace is still working. Come in, you look cold.”

He let out a relieved sigh as you stepped to the side, letting him in.

He’s much prettier up close.

His movements were hesitant, and he looked almost scared. You flickered a soft smile on your face, settling into how awkward this whole situation is.

“Sit anywhere, I don’t bite.” He chuckled, finally meeting your eyes with a goofy smile.

“Thank God, I have enough of that back home.” Though his joke had fallen terribly short, you still gave him a small giggle, hoping humoring him would spark a conversation instead of a chain of unbearable silence.

“You don’t have to laugh, that wasn’t funny.”

“At least you’re self-aware?” His smile had gotten noticeably larger, making that tingly feeling reappear from earlier in the night.

The silence had lasted momentarily, both of you never truly making real eye contact. You cautiously sized him up, taking careful notes of his features. As you go up his head, you remember how soaking wet his hair is. Has he been standing here drenched in water the whole time?

“Oh my gosh. Has your hair always been that wet?!” You made haste to your room, grabbing a clean towel. He had stayed in place, looking around like a lost puppy.

“I must’ve forgotten when I came out of the shower, I didn’t even—“head down,”— realize..” he reluctantly followed your orders, keeping his head still as you aggressively ran the towel through his hair.

“My bad,” he muttered under his breath.

“What are you sorry for? Just making sure my pristine guest doesn’t catch a cold.” You both giggled, letting the moment sink into a quiet moment of intimacy…

..intimacy between two strangers.

You jolt back immediately, Peter flinching at your reaction. “What?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just— are you comfortable with me doing that? We don’t really-“

“I just stood here and let you do it for about a minute. I’d hope I’m comfortable with you.” He retorted.

“Yeah, but we just don’t…know each other-Like that?” You pulled on the hems of your shirt, heat settling onto your face.

Peter paused for a moment, letting your troubles float in the air for a few seconds. He then sat on the floor closest to the fireplace, dragged a blanket down with him, and patted the open area right next to him. “Well then, let’s get to know each other. Don’t want my pristine host to feel uncomfortable,” a smile —almost wimpy at that— broke through, and you settled next to him, the tension slowly breaking into something you couldn’t quite place yet...

It wasn’t as awkward as you thought.

That is— letting your VERY fresh crush stay in your dorm while the power was still out.

You had learned a lot about Peter in a short time, actually. You had especially learned that TMI was foreign to his knowledge.

He was the goofy type. The type who talks with his hands. Your type.

Currently, you both lie on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, covered in the warm shared blanket, talking about whatever has come to both of your minds.

“How do you have time to train if you’re constantly in school, though? Like I devote all my energy to skating, you’re crazy.”

Peter laughed easily at the comment, taking a second to think.

“My aunt, she gave me the option to switch to homeschool, but I felt like I would miss out on important stuff.”

“…like?”

He paused for a second, turning his head to look at you. A sickly sweet smile kicked onto both of your faces as you both maintained eye contact.

“What?” You breathed out a laugh.

“Nothing, it’s just I-well, I wouldn’t really miss out on shit.” He laughed, and you followed suit.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I- I mean, I had okay friends? And I had  rigorous coursework, but I can live without that….maybe Gwen? That’s about it.”

Gwen…

“Gwen?” You sat up a little, getting leverage from your elbows. The blanket had fallen successfully to your hips. “Girlfriend?”

He didn’t make eye contact; his mouth had only opened slightly before he formed a word. “Uh huh...yeah.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension from earlier wrangling its way back into your conscious part of your brain. “Ah.”

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, wiping his face for no apparent reason. “She was…a lot,” his use of past tense caught your attention, but you weren’t gonna do anything without confirmation. “She was just amazing. She was so down-to-earth and humble about everything; it felt like a safe space.” He talked about this girl as if he owed her his life, and deep down, you felt you couldn’t measure up to that.

The idea of having someone having to rely and depend on you for such a long period of time made you feel weird, alienating at that. You hadn’t realized you even zoned out until you heard “but-“, your attention refocusing back to him.

“I couldn’t love her…not how she wanted me to. She was... amazing, yeah, but we were... how do I say it...” he snapped, hoping it would spark a wave of recollection in his brain.

“..on different wave lengths..?” You offered, but were met with silence.

“..on different wavelength…yeah.. I was just too busy for her. She needed more from me, and I couldn’t love her properly. It was just ‘eat, snowboard, study, repeat,’ and I didn’t have room for her in there. And don’t get me wrong, I still loved her, but she needed somebody who could keep up with her. I just- couldn’t.” He sighed, his palms now fully covering his face. “I….just told my whole love life to a girl I just met who probably couldn't care less.” He let out a breathy laugh, but you, for the first time tonight, didn’t return the favor.

It was an awkward silence, partially because this conversation made your head spin with ideas, and partially because you, in some ways, completely get him.

“I get it.” You said, your eyes never breaking contact with the ceiling. “I’m sorry. She seemed amazing.”

“Yeah, but I just want her to be happy...” he sighed. Your teeth gnawed on the bottom of your lips, and your mouth moved faster than you could process the words:

“But don’t you as well? Deserve to be happy, I mean.” It was a second of silence, but it felt more drawn out. He had sat up, mirroring you at this point, listening.

“Well, you shouldn’t let your passions dictate your relationships. You sound a little sappy if I may add,” You both chuckled quietly at the comment. “You’re kind, very smart, and overly trusting from what I can tell, don’t cancel yourself out just because you have one too many things on your plate.”

It was quiet for a second, and his lack of response did scare you, but alas, you kept going.

“We’re in Milan, Parker. Some of the best athletes have flown out to be here. A lot of them are in the same boat as you. Spent half of their career playing hockey, snowboarding—“figure skating...”—figure skating! Anyone could be out there tonight, and you’re just gonna give it up? For stupid snowboarding? No way, Peter..go out and find someone. I promise it’ll be worth it…”

“Well, I don’t think I have to go far.” He mumbled, and after a distinct pause, a laugh came as a natural response from both of you. You nudged him softly on the side, but you couldn’t hide the excitement written on your face.

“Flirting with the girl that you not only just spent an hour talking about your ex with, but you also only met her...—“6 hours ago-“— 6 hours ago, is a risky move, Parker.” You cooed, unconsciously drifting closer to his body warmth. He laughed, completely on his side at this point, one hand slithering across your waist to consciously pull you closer.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he rasped softly, “how can I make it up to you?” The reflection of the fireplace onto his glasses perfectly paired with his brown, doe eyes.

What a tease.

You thought playfully, rubbing your chin to try to formulate an answer.

“You could….stay with me tonight, watch the sunrise over the mountains tomorrow morning?” He bit his lip, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you sure…? Anything more, I don’t know- closer, less cold, needs more… face-to-face contact?” You giggled childishly at his last comment.

“Just say you want to kiss me, Parker.”

…..

“I want to kiss you, Parker.”

He mimicked, but it fell short as your foreheads had pressed together already, his grasp around your waist had curled tighter. You slowly took his glasses off, and your hands cupped his face, fingers shaking slightly on his heated cheeks. It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asked one last time, “We can take this slow...rain check this and go for a coffee in the morning?”

“I think 6 hours is slow enough. Can we get this show going?” You snickered, helping Peter close that pesky gap.

At first, your teeth knocked together, both of you stopping to laugh, then again, which led to a chain of sloppy, heavy kisses.

The surreal sensation was hitting hard, a combination of his freshly washed hair still dripping hesitantly onto your forehead, the fireplace screaming unceasingly, and the faint taste of probably his dinner still on his lips. It was overstimulating in the best place possible, your whole body becoming sensitive to even his simplest touch.

You had shifted yourself to his lap, effectively straddling him, somehow not breaking lip contact. You hear him let out a strong sigh as you both pull away to catch a quick breath. You were trying to read his face; you knew that much. You pushed his hair back to get a full view of his features, leaving a new sense of giddiness to settle in your stomach.

He left a dizzying kiss on your forehead, the hot air blowing once he lifted as he was trying to catch his breath. “So-“

“Uh huh.” Your breath hitched with a lazy smile kicking to your face. You felt his hands climb up your sides, but you feel his soft shaking.

“You’re shaking, Parker.”

“So are you.”

..

"…. Can we do that again? my- my eyes were closed. I didn’t get the full experience."

"Oh my god." You snorted, softly pulling his nape back to get a better perspective. “You’re so stupid.”

“And you’re still kissing me so-“

You brushed his lips softly, Peter pulling you closer for a more proper kiss. It was slower than before, as all the adrenaline had almost fizzed out, but it was still just as meaningful.

“I hope she’s not sleeping, I brought her back some—oh??” You practically pushed Peter off of you, his whole body slamming to the ground.

“Fuck!” He groaned in pain. You both looked over at the doorway to see Hattie and a few of your (very drunk) teammates filling up your doorway. Embarrassing felt too light a word to describe how you felt. You removed yourself from his lap, which induced a whine from him, and stood up, walking frantically towards them.

In a team fashion, everyone had the same star-struck look on their face. especially the ring leader. Hattie let out a screech before wrapping her arms around you and surprisingly lifting you in the air, giggling like a toddler. Her words were so incoherent, but you had a hunch about their meaning.

You looked back at Peter, who was now swarmed by the rest of your team, their words slurring and poking him like he was a never-before-seen artifact.

Your eyes softened as you both made eye contact. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed towards him, earning you a childlike grin and a sincere “It’s okay.”

tasm!Peter x f!reader || WC: 1.9k

-when your schedule engulfs you, leaving you sleepless, you rely on your roommate mate to wake you up, but in your half asleep state, you did the stupidest thing ever...

-cw: the stupidest fic ever omg, mostly just fluff, a little bit of hurt peter, slightest like barely mentioning of sex.

(if its scientifically inaccurate no its not idc.)

“But you can’t lie,” Peter repositioned himself. “You can’t be mad because you do like me.”

As you stumbled into your apartment, drowsy and uncoordinated, you dragged yourself to the couch, immediately soaking in its formed comfort. You let your bag slide off your shoulder, and wrapped your hands around the pillow that your head rested on. This was your first feel of comfort since 6AM, and you were not going to waste it.

“You seriously need to drop your morning shifts,” The voice echoed through the apartment, the owner coming into view soon after.

“Mmm hi petey..” You mumbled, curling up into the couch as you felt the presence of someone kneeling infront of you. You groaned as Peter pulled on your ear playfully, causing you to open an eye.

“You look really…bad..” Peter took a pause to sip his coffee, rubbing your ear with that stupid wholesome smile plastered on his face. “Like, ‘Mom of 8 homeschooling all of them while her husband is out in town’ bad.” He wasn’t wrong, and you knew it. Your schedule was tight. Cafe opener at 6:30 , classes, 10 minute lunch, classes again, server at 6 till 11, study, sleep, repeat. But you couldn’t stop, it wasn’t practical nor convenient for you whatsoever.

“Are you the husband in said scenario?” You giggled ,Peter twisting your ear lightheartedly. You were grateful for him, in ways you couldn’t really put into words. He grounded you, closing you laptop whenever he could see your eyes get heavy, leaving food out for you so you don’t have to buy any after work, occasionally swinging by if he was done with patrol and walking home with you. It’s a pleasure to have him, but, you wish you had him. Peter was a sight for even the sorest eyes. From the way his smile always seems so welcoming, to the late night talks you share while helping clean his post-fight bruises. You loved that boy, you just didn’t know if that boy loved you..

“You patrolling tonight?” You asked, fixing a loose piece on his head that bothered you.

“Yeah I’m dipping at 5:00. Need me to wake you up?” he moved his head so you didn’t have to reach that far. you smiled tiredly, almost shedding a tear at his caring nature.

“Yes you beautiful piece of hunk..yes.” you cupped Peters face before he playfully leaned in, causing you to push his face back into a giggling fit. “Let me sleep you weirdo.” You teased, turning around and getting comfortable, letting yourself lull into sleep.

“Helloooo” a soft voice had tickled your ear but you ignored it, still deep in sleep, you were shaken slightly, your body stirring slightly. You reached up slowly to grab support on the top of the couch, instead being met with a familiar latex feel. You smiled warmly, but still had exhaustion written all over your face. The 1ish hour nap wasn’t enough, but you had to make do. You hadn’t opened your eyes yet, but you kept a tight grasp onto Peters hand, leaning on it for both support and comfort. You had felt him help you up my saying things your mid-REM brain wasn’t picking up, your only responses being furrowed eye brows and lazy hums. You knew you to get ready, so you left a soft kiss of Peter’s cheek (which felt bumpier than usual),you felt Peter tense almost immensely, leaving you to giggle at his reaction.

“I gotta get ready, thanks again Petey… be safe mkay?” You muttered tiredly, only getting a response of what sounded like rambling. You stopped in the bathroom and splashed cold water in your face from the sink, slowly waking up. You stepped into the shower, washing off what was left of your exhaust temporarily, but even through the water you could hear Peter pacing through the walls. “you okay Peter?” You yelled, earning a stuttering response in the process. It was weird, it’s not like you hadn’t kissed him on the cheek before.

You stepped out and dried off, still confused by his tone change. Maybe he was self conscious, his skin did feel bumpy, you thought to yourself, letting your hair fall from the shower cap. But honestly? It was very soft for it to be so textured. You had sat down at your vanity, putting dots of moisturizer and primer onto your face. but- it did taste like coffee… you popped open your concealer, putting it over your dug out eye-bags. His skin tasted like coffee..

You took a pause, trying to think of how that would be possible..

.

..

…

Oh fuck. Your eyes widened at the realization that you, in your grogginess, kissed Peter on the lips, completely missing his cheek. You instantly got up, immediately opening your door only to be met with an open window and flowly curtains.

It wasn’t off to say that you were a mess during work. Your mind was running wild and it showed through your body language. You had told your coworkers (who definitely weren’t praying for this day to come), and ended up getting more advice then you had asked for.

“What do I even say?” You chirped, breaking the silence between your other coworker, as you were both on break. “Like- I’m sorry I was running off of 1 hour of sleep I can’t tell the difference between a cheek and lips.”

“Have you seen the way Peter looks at you? Yeah dude, when you get home just call out you’re gonna be crazy sore tom-“ you threw an empty cup at your coworkers head, face flushed and full of embarrassment. You groaned angrily as your coworker giggled. “Just talk to him babe,” She resumed “If in a distant reality he actually doesn’t like you, tell him the truth, it’ll be awkward for a week or two, but then you’ll be fine okay?” You finally looked at her, your teeth dug into your skin. You nodded and took a grounding breath. 

“Okay.”

Your apartment seemed extra loud today, as when you opened your door, it creaked extra loudly, the floorboards were reacting in ways you didn’t appreciate at this certain moment, and you accidentally bumped in your side table. Rattling everything that sat on it. You took a deep breath, walking towards the kitchen, grabbing a water and finding yourself on the fire escape, curled up and waiting for Peter. You usually came home before him, so you waited silently for the time to arrive.

Your body started to show the signs of fatigue, as it was about 11:40pm at this point. You groaned to get up, you’d just have to talk to him in the morning. As you stepped in, you walked back into the kitchen, propping yourself onto the kitchen counter, grabbing yourself a mug for your night time tea. That’s when you heard the sudden crash by the fire escape. You peaked your head out, your breath caught when you saw the reason for the sound. Peter stood there, looking a little disoriented, but looking straight at you.

“Peter-“ you gasped, trying to get down but somehow Peter was already half way to you. He was limping slightly, he looked hurt and weak, but somehow he was walking faster than he would’ve if he was healthy. “Peter I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“ you started, feeling a sudden urge of guilt for some reason. Peter immediately shut that up as he sloppily tore his mask off, and firmly locked his lips onto yours. They were different from earlier— bruised and chapped— but still it still felt just as warm. You didn’t hesitate you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to your skin. You could feel the sweat transfer from his forehead to yours, but the sickeningly warm kiss canceled all of the responses to your environment. He had such an unrestrained grip on your waist, but the sting felt so rewarding. 

After what felt like forever, you had both pulled away, your breaths deep and uncoordinated. You slightly pushed down the collar of his suit, leaning your head to the side to leave pecks on his neck. He let out a content sigh, brushing through your hair. “have I ever told you that you suck? I got my ass beaten just cuz I couldn’t stop thinking about you..” he mumbled, causing your attention to go back on to his face, then scanning his body.. Up close, he looked worse. His face was badly bruised, marks all over his face, you couldn’t even imagine how the rest of his body looked. You wrapped your hands around his neck, he put his head on to your shoulders comfortingly.

“You do look pretty bad” your responded with a snort, “Is this night gonna be a self regeneration type of bruises, or a 'you need me to baby you to trick you that they'll regenerate faster' typa night...” You muttered, running a hand through his matted, sweaty hair.

“The latter.” You groaned as Peter let out a soft giggle. It was silent for a while, letting everything soak. 

“You know-“ you started to admit, “I didn’t mean to kiss your earlier.” Peter looked up, and smiled wider.

“oh..I could’ve sworn you were a serial sleep kisser.” Peter snorted and you pushed his shoulder playfully.

“Asshole.”

“Well drunk actions are sober thoughts.”

“I don’t drink?”

“Drunk off of melatonin.” You rolled your eyes at his playfully actions, earning yourself a kiss on the cheek. “But you can’t lie,” Peter repositioned himself. “You can’t be mad because you do like me.”

“A lot yes.” You added, rubbing circles on his neck.

“Sooo, it’s fine.” He smiled leaning into another kiss.

Clark Kent x fSpiderman!reader || WC: 3.2K! 😯

- When your 3 AM patrol leaves you in shambles, the comfort from your best friend picks you up, leaving both of you wanting more ☆

-cw: fluff but some angst, reader gets their shit rocked badly, descriptive details about injuries (blood, burn marks, glass shards, broken ribs), an electro cross-over cuz why not, when your duo is chill but your both vigilantes, use of Y/N once, VERY corny ship name, everyone seems to ship you two together, Clark is a star wars fan, Fucking up a sandwhich turned romantic?, slow burn(?), playful Clark!

a/n: can you tell im a marvel baby? this was fun to write, its not the best but i hope you can enjoy!

Earth-04181938. Or home, whichever one you want to call it.

Let’s start this story one last time. I promise I won’t tell it again.

My name is y/n l/n, and I was bitten by a radioactive spider that phased through a nearby rock while I was taking pictures of a radioactive spill into our water systems by Lexcorp when I was an intern at the Daily Planet. And for the past five years, I have been the one and only Arachne.

The Daily Planet had been specifically buzzing with life that evening. The Bullpen smelt like freshly printed paper, it seemed everyone was on track to finish their deadlines, and the city— oh the beautiful city, had been completely silent, meaning you had time to fully edit and reconstruct the pictures Clark oh so needed for Superman and Lois required for Arachne (which looked better then Superman’s by a long shot, but your weren’t telling that to Clark.)

Clark was weird; he had joined the Daily Planet about the same time Superman made his first big break in Metropolis, but you didn’t think much of it. There could be no way that Superman, heroic, selfless, and an all-American alien, was the same as the Kansas sweetheart that was Clark Kent. Clark was an amazing person, but not Superman amazing. He lit up the room with just his smile, always seemed interested in what anyone said, even when he had 0 idea of the topic, and had such perfect dimples that could hypnotize you in almost an instant. All those things made him your perfect crush. But you felt bad. You were so incredulously down for Clark, but if hypothetically you two had become something more, you didn’t know if you could give up the little schoolgirl crush Arachne had on Superman. 

She deserved something, you know, she swung around all day dealing with petty criminals and cats in trees (with the occasional bone-breaking fights), she deserved at least one (non-fighting, she obviously won all her fights) win. Arachne loved chatting with superman, wether it be post-fight damage control, or the hundreds of “friendly” coffee dates you two had went on, accidentally starting a fan-base called “Superchne” (pronounced Super-Knee.) filled with people who swore the both of you were dating, and as much as you wanted it, you could never put superman in that position. Maybe in another universe…

“How’s Superman looking?” A voice boomed behind you, causing an unmistakable smile to spread across your face. He leaned on your desk, his head finding comfort on your scalp, a gesture he had done many times before, causing you to giggle. You switched tabs from Arachne to Superman, earning a satisfied whistle from Clark. It was one of your best ones yet. The sun seemed to be shining directly in his face, making him look nothing less than a Greek god. The lens had caused a little rainbow over his head, and the best part? It was almost as if he was posing for you, a grin so homey and his chest popped out so confidently, oh yeah. You were satisfied, Clark was satisfied, Perry would definitely be satisfied, and you were set. 

“Jeez.. those look amazing..” Jimmy stated, and Lois soon joined the huddle.

“If those are Superman’s, imagine the ones you got for me of Arachne.” You smiled at Lois, flipping back to the tab with Arachne on it. You had multiple breath-taking shots (all taken by the beautiful drone you had managed to set up). Lois giggled excitedly and gave you a high five ecstatically.

“How do you even- do that?” Jimmy asked, shocked, but VERY curious.

“Superman’s, I take hand Pictures of, but Arachne, due to her inability to ever stay still, I have a drone that takes candid pictures every .3 seconds that practically follows her around. She’s fine with it, so.” You explained your tone steadily as you scrolled through the array of pictures, stopping at the last one, which was a picture of you and Superman. You kneeled, taking care of a few excited kids, while Superman stood in the back, watching you with a look you couldn’t quite describe. You felt Clark’s breath hitch softly on your scalp, while Jimmy and Lois simultaneously exclaimed “aweee”, causing you and Clark to turn your heads, Clark detaching his chin from your scalp, and your eyebrows furrowing.

“Do you see the way he looks at her?” Lois cooed teasingly.

“I think it’s a look of respect, nothing more.” Clark rebutted

“Okay, no, that’s definitely a look of adoration,” Jimmy reassured.

“No- I think he just- likes the way she works.” You stutter slightly, earning you weird looks from Lois and Jimmy, but one of appreciation from Clark.

“Oh boo, you both are party poopers, you guys aren’t team Superchne?” Jimmy quipped, earning two dragged-on laughs from both you and Clark. “Whattttttttt!” You laughed awkwardly, “I mean, it could be platonic-“

“And who knows it could make Arachne super uncomfortable-“ Clark added on.

“And maybe Superman-“ you followed.

“Well, maybe not Superman,” Clark stated at the same time you stated “probably not Arachne though…” earning both of you flustered looks. Lois and Jimmy just watched, amused looks, grinning at the stupid interaction. 

“Do you 4 get any work done?” Perry’s voice startled all of you, but Jimmy immediately recovered, having a light bulb go off. “Perry, look at these two.” Jimmy turned your screen to Perry’s sight. “What do you see?” Perry took a pause, everyone anticipating his next words.

“You would have to be a complete and utter imbecile to think those two aren’t in love.” Jimmy and Lois cheered as you and Clark groaned. “I switched teams last year when that picture leaked of them sitting together in a Firehouse Subs after getting their asses kicked for 2 hours, and they were both scarfing down their sandwiches while Arachne was rubbing her foot against his leg? Yeah, they’re endgame.” Jimmy reassured himself, proud of himself.

“I wouldn’t they they got their asses kicked…” you mumbled..

“Scarfing seems over the top…” Clark murmured. You both had your brains turned fuzzy and flustered, for reasons only your own person knew. Today couldn’t be any worse, though, right?

Well, you were right, ‘today’, April 17th, wasn’t any worse, but 3 AM on April 18th should’ve been considered due to its ridiculous irony. One second, you’re on night duty, stopping petty criminals, then exactly 3 hours and 43 minutes later, you’re being smashed into a light pole by Electro at 225 mph, breaking a few ribs on impact. Great, more injuries to your now double-sided list of injuries you had gotten in the past hours. You had agreed with Superman that Electro was your designated Villain, but Golly, did you need him right now?

“Jeez, Sparky- you’re usually not this passionate about bending me-“ you quipped, before dodging a car and swinging it back to electro. But in what had seemed to be an instant, he had gotten hold of your webs, and suddenly you felt yourself being what it must’ve been, being cooked inside out. You fell once again, but this time into a car, leaving bruises and a dented roof. Your muscles moved jaggedly, trying to make aggressive motions, but failing miserably, making you jolt and flinch like crazy. You were in and out of consciousness, your suit felt (and smelt) burnt up, and everything looked hazy, but you had to get up. You stumbled, rolling off the car. You had to use your web slinger to find a safe area to take a quick breather, even if the slinger was malfunctioning. Your judgment was cloudy, yes, but you had one mission, and that was to swing into safety. Even through jolts, you had swung far into the air, before you felt a tingle shoot through your body, causing you to lose control and phase through someone’s nearby window, knocking over a few tables and hitting your side into a couch, then your head on a wall.

You had coiled up, taking shaky breaths and twitching involuntarily while letting out groans of pain and dismay. You urgently pulled your mask up and greedily sucked air into your system, but it only made you sting more. After a little, you had sat up against the wall. You were dazed, but you had to examine your body, which looked worse the better your eyes focused. Your suit, in its black and red glory, was ripped and burnt everywhere. The places where it was ripped, your skin showed gnarly gashes, some still oozing bubbly blood, others were turning colors. You hadn’t even noticed the big shard in your side until now, pulling it out in a painful manner that you should’ve known better than to do. Where you had burn marks, though, the flesh was cooked, smelling pungent and crisped. Lastly, you noticed the swelling that had occurred in your chest, the result of broken ribs. You let out a devastated moan, knowing that in the end, you still had work in 5 hours. You prayed your regeneration would cut the B.S. and do what it needed to do. Groaning at the thought, you heard a familiar staticky, but taunting voice coming from outside, making your skin crawl.

‘The itty-bitsy spider came up the water spout..” Electro teased, “Down came the rain, and washed the spider out-“ you groaned stumbling up your head pounding as you spider-senses went off, but it was different, it wasn’t electro causing your senses to go haywire, you suddenly snapped your head to the near light source, seeing a 6’4, 225 pound wide-eyed man stand in the door way, toothbrush in mouth, obviously getting ready for bed. 

Your shoulders relaxed— oh, this was just Clark’s apartment— you thought— happy to see him.

….

oh.

Oh. shit.

Your shoulders immediately tensed up as you wiped the blood from your face to pull what remained of your mask back over your face. He tried to approach you, but you quickly whipped away, phasing through his window, going back outside. 

You felt sick. If you died in this fight right now, you’d be very unhappy ending it with Clark like that. You were fucked, but that was the least of your problems. You had to finish this fight; it had woken up too many people and put too Many in danger. “Hey, Sparky!” You yelled, getting Electro’s attention, putting both of your fists in a fighting stance,readying for his next attack.

The fight ended at 5 AM. You (barely) came out the victor, being able to tame electro, minimizing civilian damage, but maximizing your own damage. Your body was shutting down fast. You needed somewhere to pass out in, where you could take a quick nap to rejuvenate, but alas, through the cheers and screams of your glory, a large gust of wind came from above you, and you suddenly felt soft, not forced hand wrap around your body. Your senses were at an all-time high, so you flinched and turned to fight, only to be reassured by Superman. 

“Took you long enough,” you tried to joke, only for it to come out as a whimper. your body shutting down right before your own eyes.

“Shh shh hey it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re fine. You did great.” You were shaking so bad in his grasp, if your mind wasn’t practically in another dimension, you’d be embarrassed, but your brain was scattered, and your body was in so much pain it felt practically numb. Superman bent over and whispered comfortingly into your ear, “You can rest.” Your breath had become sharper, trying to balance. “I’ll call out for you; work can wait till later. Perry’s just gonna have to extend your deadline hmm?” In your delirious state, you took a shaky sigh of relief, laying your head on his shoulder, your vision shutting off almost immediately, leaving your unconscious body in his warm grasp.

The soft wave of sun through the windows and the unmistakable smell of pancakes had managed to lull you out of a peaceful sleep in a more than comfortable bed. You shivered slightly, grabbing more of the comforter to cover yourself in. You nuzzled your head into the edge of the blanket, trying to recall the events that led you to be in this half-drowsy state.

Patrol..electro….bad fight… Clark-

Oh Clark.

You slowly sat up, wincing from the still self-regenerating wounds, wanting to immediately call Clark to apologize and explain yourself, when you realized something was off.

This isn’t your apartment.

You looked down at your body, seeing that you were wrapped in bandages too tight to have been done by you, and on top of that, you were being greeted with a VERY oversized tee that had Queen Padme Amidala plastered in the middle, a shirt you had bought Clark last month as a birthday gift. what the-

“Usually when a friend needs to sleep over-“ a voice chimed in, causing your spider senses to flare— “they would use the door to enter, and not fling themselves through my living room.” Clark’s tone was teasing. He stood in the doorway way leaned against the frame, wearing a shirt that did miracles for his biceps, His glasses halfway on his nose, his hair tousled in a way only someone who just woke up could rock, carrying a plate of pancakes with eggs and bacon accompanying them. You didn’t know what to say, how to start, or how to stop the flush in your cheeks as he walked over with the food, making the situation feel 10x more domestic.

“Clark i-“ you tried to respond, earning a finger to Clark’s lips, with a brighter smile someone should be wearing, having just figured out their best friend is a vigilante.

“Eat first, the last time you’ve eaten was 2 days ago. Your body needs the food to regenerate faster, no?” he said, crouching down next to you, laying his head over his crossed arms on top of the bed. All you could do was stare at him, before graciously nodding, accepting the fork, and almost immediately scarfing down the pancakes, displaying how hungry you were. He smiled as he watched you eat, grazing his fingers against your knee. “How are your ribs? I saw that you had big chunks floating around, and I didn't know if they still hurt as much.”

You scoffed. “You saw them? Jeez, Kent, I didn't know you had a portable X-ray in your house.” You laughed, earning a grin from Clark.

“Well, I guess when you put it like that,” Clark replied, pulling off his glasses— “I could be considered a walking X-ray.” You stared at him for a second, trying to figure out what he meant, before you realized how disgustingly similar he looked to Superman without his glasses.

Oh

You stared at Clark, letting out a breathy laugh. “I- uhm- wow.” You stammered, your brain not forming fully coherent thoughts. Superman— I mean Clark— chuckled, his grin widening ever so slightly.

“Am I allowed to say that’s the same reaction I had last night when you crashed in here?” Clark cooed, making your face flush.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry- I’m so sorry about last night, that wasn’t how I wanted to tell you- I hope I didn’t get any blood anywhere, that was so inconsiderate of me-“ you rambled on, stopping at the hearty laugh Clark had responded with, making your face flush even more.

“You were flung into my apartment involuntarily, and you’re apologizing? Yeah- no doubt you’re Arachnid. I’m mad I didn’t notice before.” He gave you a warm smile before standing up. “Scooch. The floor’s uncomfortable.” You complied almost instantly, letting out a soft groan as you moved over on the bed. He gave you a slightly sympathetic look, joining you in bed. He made sure you were still comfortable. You both sat in silence, not knowing what to say next. I mean, you, Arachnid, and him, Superman? There was a lot to unpack.

“So- have you told anyone yet?” Clark asked, trying to break the silence. You shook your head no, not knowing who to tell. “You?” 

Clark smiled, taking a deep breath. “Well, my parents, the ‘Justice gang’, Lois-“ he took a pause, and you interjected, “You told Lois before you told me?” You scoffed in disbelief. Clark gave you a shrug.

“Lois figured out through sheer luck, like 3 years ago. Plus, I didn’t know how you’d react.” His tone quieted at the last part. “But can’t I make that same argument for you?” 

You sighed, nodding. You knew that if Clark ever distanced himself from you, you wouldn’t know what to do.. “I just- didn’t want to lose you, Clark.” He looked at you, leaning over and leaving a peck on your forehead. “You won’t. And you wouldn’t have. I would’ve understood. Superman or not.” You smiled, letting yourself melt under his touch. 

“In the office, when we were looking at the pictures…did you mean it? When you said you wouldn’t mind- if we…” You merged your hands together, giving Clark an unexpected cough, clearing his throat.

“Well, I mean- I didn’t know because I don’t want to make it uncomfortable-“ he stammered, making you smile.

“‘Cause I don’t mind.” You said blatantly. You had waited for this moment for years now, and you weren’t gonna waste what could’ve been your only chance. Clark’s eyes widen, locking you. You had turned your body at this point, fully facing Clark. You felt bad, he looked overly flustered, but deep down, you knew how hot that made him. You crawled in front of him, going into the space between his legs, putting your hand over his. His breath hitched, but he immediately adapted, wrapping his hands delicately around your waist. You fixed the loose strand on his face, lowering your hand to cup his cheek. “..do you?”

“Do I….what?” His voice was husky as he took a sharp breath, drawing circles in your waist. 

“Mind? Do you mind?” You craved his approval, that verification that proved the years of lingering touches, elongated eye contact, and syrupy sweet talk weren’t in vain. He paused, before breaking into a small grin, shaking his head no, leaning forward cautiously, and you let him.

You closed the gap instantly, your lips making the bare minimum of contact, but the signals seemed to go off crazy in both of your heads, causing both of you to crash into each other, prompting both of your eyes to flutter closed. Clark lifts you up, putting you in a straddling position, your hands moving to the back of his head. You let him take the lead, his hunger seeming to outmatch yours..

-

When both of your adrenaline levels seemed to die off. Both of your breaths were heavy as Clark left lazy pecks scattered through your whole face.

“Jeez, Kansas..” you breathed, “Does this mean we’re automatically team supernche now?” You mumbled, earning a hearty laugh from Clark.

“I guess so.” He cooed, leaving a soft peck on your lips that seemed to make everything feel better. And everything was better. Everyone you wanted to know, knew, and you were able to appease both yourself and Arachne, making that morning one you could’ve never forgotten..