Absolutely Love This If You Can Please Make More

Absolutely love this if you can please make more

Classmate

PART THREE

PART ONE; PART TWO; PART THREE (CURRENT)

Earth 42! Miles Morales x fem! reader

Synopsis! For the life of you , you couldn’t understand why Miles had it out to get you so bad. If it wasn’t for the mid-year seat change, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged your existence.

MASTERLIST

Genre: light fluff, enemies to lover like troupe, light bully! Miles

Warnings: mentions of violence, foul language, more creeps, that’s it <3

Word count: 3.5k

Authors comment: that’s a wrap folks! This one was super hard for me to write idky, hopefully it still is fitting to the story line! Enjoy <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

Things with Miles had been different since that night.

Never acknowledging what happened in his bedroom, you two went about the dinner and the past five weeks like nothing happened.

But the way he acted towards you had changed.

Miles became a vacillating wind, constantly switching his direction with the air. His teasing became nicer, more playful than before, he had also become more needy. One minute he was behind you in the crowded hallways discreetly pulling you close, his hands lightly gripping the front of your thighs; whispering how good your ass looked in your uniform, his lips ghosting your neck as he spoke.

The next he was ignoring you when he passed in the halls with his friends, giving you dirty looks if you got too close as he walked by.

It was exhausting having to pretend like his’ hot and cold game wasn’t affecting you.

Truthfully, Miles didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, it was you. On the other hand… It was you.

Regardless of the predicament in his brain, he found himself unable to get his mind off of you.

No matter what hand it was, no matter what time of day, no matter the situation or what he was he doing,

It was always you.

That was the problem. You had enveloped his brain and he despised you for it. He hated that even if he wanted to think of something other than you he couldn’t.

There were more important things to worry about than you. One of those things being the mission he was on right now.

Even as he was running the streets, avenging claws weighing heavy on his calloused hands, you were his main focus.

He was so damn tired of it.

However, he was more tired of not being able to see you when he wanted, to feel you when he wanted.

He hated pretending it didn’t affect him, like you didn’t affect him.

El te ansiaba. You and you only.

So that’s where he found himself after every mission, this one being no different. Scratching the itch, so to speak.

Another late night tapping on your dorm window, beckoning you out into the city’s darkness.

And just like every other night you groggily jeered at him to stop bringing his ass over this late. But you still come out wearing the hoodie he leant you a few weeks back after the dinner; when he was “forced” to walk you home by Rio, even though he planned to anyway. And your shivers “were working his last nerve” so he took his hoodie off and gave it to you, insisting you kept it when you reached the door to your family apartment because “your germs were all over it.”.

He knew good and well he wanted ‘your germs’ all over him.

It was a recurring cycle between the two of you. Throughout the days, depending on how Miles was feeling, you two would be locked in like you were together; or he would give you the coldest behavior.

But no matter how he acted, the nights always ended with him paying for your ice cream from the small shop around the corner that stayed open twenty four hours.

That was the thing, no matter how the day went, it always ended with you two together.

Y así es como él quería que fuera.

If looks could kill, the guy talking to you would’ve been six feet deep. Hell, Miles was ready to do it with his bare hands, no need for figurative language.

The only reason this guy had the balls to approach you was because Miles had chosen to ignore you all week.

Usually you two were seen together, or at least close enough in the halls to where no one dared to approach you. But he decided to “distance himself” from you in hopes to calm the flutters in his chest whenever he was near you, just seeing you would cause his heart to drop to his stomach.

He would brush you off in the classroom, keeping his usual playful banter with you to a minimum. He even went as far as to skip the regular late night meet ups you two had.

Clearly his plan didn’t work.

And now seeing this random guy talkin’ to you, he wish he never did it. I mean this guy was so bold, so cockily talking to you, to his girl.

He wasn’t gon’ have that.

You smiled out your fifth that’s crazy to the guy talking to you. He had yet to even tell you his name, assuming you already knew it. Very bold assumption.

You wanted nothing more than to get out of this conversation. Even with John gone in the hospital, guys still couldn’t catch the hint you wanted nothing to do with them.

“Aye ima keep it real witchu’” the guy paused staring deep into your soul, “ I was wondering if you live up to the rumors?” You blinked a few times. What was he on about? “Homie John was tellin’ me- before ole’ boy came outta nowhere and snuck him” You assumed “ole boy” was Miles, referring to when John nearly died because of him. “John was telling me you gave him a run for his money.” The boy winked. Now you were really confused. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh come on, you know what I’m talm’ bout” the guy insinuated seeing your confused face. He stepped closer, too close for comfort.

You wished Miles, even though he had been a jerk all week, was near you to prevent this douche from getting any closer. Things like this never happened with him around. “I mean you could show me somethin-”

“She good homeboy. ” As if on cue, Miles' stern voice interrupted the guy, wrapping a hand firmly around the small of waist as he stood behind you. His Versace cologne coursed strongly through your nostrils, his signature smell of warm citrusy teakwood permeating your brain. It had become a smell you could recognize anywhere.

“I believe she can speak for herself bro” the guy said, looking at Miles challengingly. Miles furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the guy like he had said the most ridiculous thing known to man. Because to Miles he had.

Miles nodded his head to the side using it to gesture further down the hallway, far from where you were. “Step.” Miles asserted, voice the most serious you had heard before. The guys scoffed and looked at you, “aye, you know where to find me.”. He winked again and kept walking, following Miles' rather aggressive instruction to leave.

You shook the look of disgust off you face as the guy walked away. Peering at Miles over your shoulder, you finally acknowledging his existence. “Oh so we speaking now?” You questioned sarcastically. You expected him to let go of you, but his hand remained planted firm on your waist.

“What class you got next mami? It’s Spanish right, with Señor Ramos?” He blatantly ignored your question, lightly moving you with the hand he had placed your waist forward, insinuating for you to walk. Scowling, you moved away from his grasp but walked as he nonverbally asked. “Okay first off- how do you know that? You stalkin’ me now?” He rolled his eyes at your rhetorical question. “And secondly, you can’t just come over here after going ghost n’ push up on me like this.” He kissed his teeth, “Chill ma it ain’t that deep.” You scoffed at his nonchalant response. “You know what-”, you cut yourself off, holding a hand up with no real intention. You walked away from him, feeling your irritation from his on and off behavior from the past month finally bubbling over.

Miles stood where you left him, dropping his shoulders with an annoyed sigh.

It finally reached the weeks end, Friday hitting Miles like a train. Unluckily for Miles, you refused to talk to him since your interaction Monday, going as far as to ignore him in the classroom. And not in the way he did to you, not just the usual brush off. It seemed like you were purposely acting as if he died or something; completely pretending he wasn’t there.

He would make fun of you, you would stay silent. He would tug at your hair to annoy you, silence. He would place his hand steadily on the inner of your upper thigh to get some, any kind of reaction from you, silence.

Miles was conflicted. The silent treatment felt a lot different being the one receiving it.

You were affecting him mentally. He had been on dozens of missions as the prowler, working through each of them like a pro. But it seemed like he had never used his equipment in his life on the mission he was on now, his mind being too flooded with thoughts of you to focus.

As he was running along the top of a building, he was suddenly yanked back from the cord attached to his hip. He stumbled back into his uncle's chest, looking back at him through his mask. Switching the mask up as Aaron pulled his own mask up over his face, Miles turned to his uncle confused.

“Aye man. You in or what?” Aaron said irritated. “What you mean unc, I’m right here.” Miles responded, immediately understanding what his uncle was implying. “Yea you might be here physically,” Aaron placed two fingers on Miles temple, roughly tapping them against his head. “But you ain’t here. You only as strong as your weakest link Miles, you know that. Stop playin around or you're out. Understand?” Huffing, Miles nodded.

He had to get it together.

Two o’clock in the morning and the Mission finally finished.

Jumping from building to building, Miles decided to stay out a little longer to clear his head.

He had to talk to you. You had become all he could think of, every day, every night.

It was exhausting to know he was the reason you refused to speak to him. He would do anything to talk to you. Hell, just to see you right now.

Looking down, he caught sight of a familiar figure. His eyes widened slightly, the universe seeming to answer his pleas.

It was a stupid idea. Thinking you could have gotten ice cream alone at 2:30 in the morning was never smart. But as much as you hated to admit, you missed Miles. You missed him so much that all sense of rationale had left. Curse your strong feelings and weak mind.

But you seemed to have forgotten the state of Brooklyn, it being no way shape or form safe. So someone watching you, even though a norm of creepy in New York, was still very unpleasant. You could feel their eyes blaring into your head, staring deeply into your soul without even having to look at your eyes. It was worse when you had no idea where or who they were.

You were terrified to say the least. Whoever was stalking you was good at their job, you had no sense of direction as to their location or what they wanted.

You turned your head around, trying to see if you noticed anyone behind you. As you turned your head foward, you were met with the sight of the prowler staring directly at you.

“OH MY-” you yelled, flailing your arms in fear causing you to drop the ice creams.

He used his claw-covered hand to cover your mouth, raising a finger over his screened face indicating for you to be quiet.

You furrowed your eyebrows but nodded, fear still present in your eyes. He took the claw off your mouth.

“Why you out this late?” The altered voice asked, being the first time you heard the voice behind the mask, even if it wasnt their true voice. You blinked, was this really what he wanted? “Uhm, not to be rude or nothin’” you paused, “but why do you need to know that?”

The man behind the mask smacked his lips looking down at you. “Just answer the question mujer.” The accent rolled of his tongue thick, clearly annoyed. Their response brought a sense of familiarity to you, reminding you of how Miles would get mad at you when you smart mouthed him. You took a moment to closely observe the prowler. Their hair was in two braids down the back of their head, the part visibly clean but frizz surrounded the woven hair from the night's movement. His Jordan’s were clean, surprisingly not creased too deeply even though it was the same pair from your last time you saw him. He stood over you, this time less frightening than the last encounter you had a few months ago.

“You gon’ speak or just keep staring at me?” You jolted lightly at the sound of the altered voice, snapping back to reality. “You know- I don’t see how that’s your business-” “I’m making it my business.” His voice was stern, yet not aggressive. It reminded you all too well of Miles. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tilted your head at the vigilante. It was clear they had no intention of hurting you, otherwise they would’ve already done it.

“Uhhh,” you bite your lip confused. It truly wasn’t the vigilantes business why you were out, but the thought of them becoming actually irritated wasn’t something you wanted to experience. “I was getting ice cream.” Miles looked at the two cones on the ground, seeing his favorite flavor and your favorite melting together, lightly smirking under his mask. “You need two for yourself?” “Well no.” “So who’s the other one for?”. You glared at the prowler, not realizing he could be so damn annoying.

“For my man. But ‘can’t eat em’ anymore cause the ice creams on the ground n’ I only brought a few dollars. I should make you buy me some new ones.” You said accusingly.

Miles took in what you called him, your man. He was lucky his masks didn’t hold expression, because the wide geeky smile under the screen would’ve easily given away it was him.

He was your man.

He hummed, trying his best to not sound any different than before. You nodded impatiently, just wanting to get home. Staring at the spilled ice cream, you huffed defeated. It was clear you just weren’t meant to see Miles; the dropped ice cream and your sudden lack of energy proof of your case.

The prowler sighed, drawing you out of thoughts, “You know there’s creeps out here lookin’ for chiquitas like you. You need to watch where you're going mami.”

You faltered, hearing his words. It was something Miles used to tell you often to tease you.

Before you could process the words, he vanished into the darkness.

Miles watched as you looked around aimlessly, trying to spot where he went. The nickname rolled off his tongue with ease from how much he called you it, a little too easy. From the way you looked at him, knew he almost messed up big time; forgetting you didn’t know he was the prowler.

Three taps were heard on your window.

Who was tapping at your window at 2:45 in the morning?

No other than Miles Gonzalo Morales.

Getting up, you feigned annoyance at the boy staring at you through your window, noting the two ice creams in his hand.

Opening the window, he wasted no time barging in past you. Rude. Sitting on your bed he offered you the cold sweet treat he bought for you. Snatching it from him, you stared at him expectantly.

“Why are you here Miles.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Even though you wanted to see him less than twenty minutes ago, he didn’t have to know that. So being the petty being you are, you decided to keep up the mad act; unaware of the fact he already knew your true feelings. “Damn I can’t stop by no more?” He asked playfully, man spreading on your bed. “You ain’t stopped by in a hot minute. might as well stop coming all together.” You say stoically, trying your best to remain irritated. He sighed, opening his mouth to say something only to shut it and look away.

He glanced up again as you sat down next to him on the soft mattress.

“Watchu been up to ma?” Miles turned his head to you, leaning back on his elbows with his ice cream in hand. You pursed your lips at him. Who walks half a mile at 2:45 in the morning just to ask such a basic question. “You could’ve texted that”. You quipped. Still gazing at you, he licked his lips, “Yea, I could’ve.”.

A silence fell over the two of you as you began to eat your ice creams.

Miles sighed, taking a break from the partially eaten cone in his hand. “Look mami-” he paused, a soft breath leaving his mouth. “I shouldn’t have gone ghost like that. lo siento.” Shock rose over your face. “Did the Miles Morales just apologize,” you joked, easing the uncomfortableness he had been feeling. “Cállate mujer” he smacked his lips, rolling his eyes.

“Lemme try your ice cream.” He pointed at your already half consumed cone. “You literally have one in your hand.” Furrowing your brows, you pulled the ice cream in your hand closer to your body. He bucked at you,“So?” snatching the ice cream out of your hand, he took a bite out of the waffle cone. You gaped at him, irritated by the fact he took a bite instead of just licking it. His eyes widened looking down at the cone,“Ouh- this pretty good ma.”. licking out of the half empty cone. “Can I have my cone back bro” he looked at you, a sudden glint of mischief washing over his eyes. He licked the ice cream; his tongue curling seductively pulling the ice cream up as he maintained eye contact with you. Your eyes widened at him, your cheeks heating from his inappropriate gesture. Seeing your reaction, a genuine laugh left his throat. “you a freak ma?” He asked cackling. You looked at him incredulously “Oh I’m the freak?” You said sarcastically, “and quiet down before my parents hear you” you said, snatching the cone back from him. He chuckled, licking the tiny amount of ice cream stuck on the side of his lip.

Checking his phone, Miles' eyes widened seeing it read 3:30 am. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed, now passing over from late in the night to early morning. Standing up, he walked towards the window. “Damn I gotta dip, I’ll catch you later.” He turned back to you, “N’ no more ghosting. Promise.” You walked toward the window, preparing to close it once he left. “Promise?”

“Promesa.” He said, exiting out the window. You turned away from the open breeze for a second, taking a moment to look back at your room to see if he left anything,

“Y/n.”

You turned your head quickly, looking him in the eye. He lightly grabbed your chin through the open frame, bringing your face ever so gently to his. His lips connect to yours, his gentle demeanor enough to make the anxieties of the night fade into mist. Closing your eyes, his hand met your neck softly pulling you closer. A soft gasp fell from your lips, him taking the initiative to deepen the kiss. His tongue quickly won dominance, exploring your mouth as it pleased.

Maybe you were meant to see him tonight.

He smirked into the kiss, a string of saliva keeping you together as he pulled away gazing at you.

“esperado tanto para hacer eso”

BONUS:

Miles sat on his uncle's couch cleaning his gear from the mission he came back from; an innocent lovestruck energy that had been there from the previous days still seeping from his presence. “So who’s the girl?” Aaron asked, a smirk on his face.

Miles looked at him feigning confusion “Ion know whatchu’ talkin’ bout unc.” Aaron pursed his face, smacking Miles on the back of his neck, “Boy you look like you got slapped by a rainbow-Jolly ass-Ian dumb. What's up wit it.” Miles winced from the sting, furrowing his eyebrows angrily as he smacked his lips offended, “Damn relax,” the small smile that met Miles his lips giving away he was far from annoyed. “Yea, I got a girl.”.

Aaron shook his head with a gentle smile, “I knew we was related, thought you had no game there for a hot min.” Miles swatted at his uncle mumbling about how he had more game than him. Aaron laughed,“You know ima’ have to meet her right? If I don’t like her, she’s out.” Miles rolled his eyes, “You gon like her, trust.”. Miles was more than confident Aaron would love you, the real issue being that Aaron might like you more than he liked his own nephew.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they kept cleaning. Aaron picked up the last of the materials and put them in their rightful place, looking at his nephew, “So, you serious ‘bout her?”

Miles peered up at his uncle, a sincere look washing over his eyes.

“me voy a casar con ella.”

©axeoverblade

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AEBEJEBEJDKDBKKV SO HOTTT

I am in love

kenmita

spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis:   you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there. 

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :) this lowkey feels like a part 1 oops

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process. 

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did. 

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh. 

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video. 

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face. 

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless. 

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief. 

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too. 

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus. 

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep. 

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am. 

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep. 

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused. 

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings. 

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready. 

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed. 

She never hissed. 

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle. 

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out. 

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately. 

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep. 

It was 4am. 

You could not help the gasp that escaped you. 

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense. 

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him. 

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again. 

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again. 

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony. 

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action. 

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was. 

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.” 

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at. 

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs. 

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.” 

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse. 

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.  

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door. 

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question. 

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong. 

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you. 

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments. 

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap. 

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said. 

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone. 

“Midoriya—” 

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door. 

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised. 

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.” 

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya. 

“What was that?”

“Promise.” 

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update. 

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room. 

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest. 

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door. 

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around. 

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back. 

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in. 

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear. 

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head. 

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing. 

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it. 

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring. 

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

masterlist

redrew my old 2019 art of the krsn 1st yr squad in their 3rd yr 🫶