Summary: The rest of your life had already been chosen for you; marry the richest man in all of New York and become the perfect wife by his side. But when you meet a masked stranger one night at the circus, you find yourself making irrational decisions. And you're not sure you can stop.
AU Spider-Man, where, instead of a superhero, he's an act at a circus. Set somewhere in the 1930s (not at all historically accurate, truly just for aesthetic purposes).
Warnings: None at the moment.
Notes: I fear that whenever a new Spider-Man film is on the horizon, I awaken from my slumber and get the itch to write. And in doing so, I came across this story I wrote four years ago (!!!) and never published. And because I didn't want it to rot alone, I fixed it up a bit and decided to share. Going to be probably be in 3-4 parts depending, as I wrote the story halfway but never finished, so we'll see how my present self wants to wrap it up.
You didn’t want to go out that night.
You had much preferred to stay at home and read your current novel of choice, but your fiancé, Harry, had insisted you accompany him to the circus performance across town.
“Come on, sweetheart. You know the people will talk if they don’t see you by my side. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Harry says, crystal blue eyes so heavy on your back, you can feel them.
Your relationship with Harry was strictly business. One created for societal appearances and financial security.
You didn’t quite detest it, however, because despite your affinity for fantasy books featuring great romances, you knew the difference between reality and fiction; True love didn’t exist. And Harry Osborn wasn’t a bad man. He bought you extravagant gifts, never treated you with disrespect, and he was a man of wealth and many prospects. He was the sole heir of the Osborn family business, one that remained successful to this day, and after the passing of his father, Harry became the richest man in all of New York.
You were born from money as well, of course; however, your riches had run dry thanks to a business misfortune that led your father to relinquish his role in the family.
Permanently.
You were now the only one who could guarantee any form of security for you and your mother, and with the help of your good friend, Gwendolyn Stacy, a well-liked member of high society, you were introduced to Harry Osborn.
The first meeting wasn’t anything of romance either. After a walk in the Stacy estate gardens, he admitted why he was so interested in you.
“There’s a deep sadness in you. It’s in your eyes and the way you carry yourself.”
You nearly pause mid-step but keep your composure, an apology ready to be uttered. A sad girl would not make a desirable wife, you can almost hear your mother hiss.
As if he can tell your concern, he chuckled. “I like it. It's of comfort to me,” he reveals, an odd twinkle in his eyes.
You stare at him, expression unmoving, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest.
It was an internal conflict that ended quite quickly when you realized that there was no point in dwelling on it at all; all that mattered was for Harry to want you, whether it be genuine or for more... peculiar reasons. As long as he asked for your hand, you were guaranteed a secure future, and that’s all you cared about. Plus, you admired his honesty, because honesty was one of the many qualities of a good man.
And Harry was a good man.
You didn’t mind that your marriage would be loveless or void of passion. In fact, it was easier that way. You could remain living in your own little world, just how you liked it. He even promised to let you read at all hours of the day as long as you allowed him to do what he liked most as well—Go out drinking with colleagues, smoke tobacco in the parlor room, casually entertain pretty women. Not anything too far, but just enough to be fun for him.
It was the deal you two had that made him beyond susceptible to marrying you. And in marrying you, he would take care of you. A good man takes care of his wife.
And Harry was a good man.
“You've become a very valuable asset, sweetheart,” he had told you after your walk, blue eyes squinting as he smirked, his left eye hidden behind his dark hair.
You can imagine all the women who would absolutely die to have the Harry Osborn look at them like that. You were very lucky. There might have been no sweetness in the way he spoke to you, but there was also no aggression, like how your father would speak to your mother whenever she would come into his view. Throughout the walk, he honestly made you feel like you were a pet of some sort. Or another business deal.
But you knew there were worse ways to feel. So when Gwen headed over to you once he left, asking giddily about how it went, you said, “He’s quite the gentleman. I think he plans to propose next week.”
Her big blue eyes widen. “And?” she questions.
You linger on her expression, noticing the excitement she can barely contain. Her hands fidget anxiously as she waits for your response, and you find it comical how she looks more giddy about your possible proposal than you are.
“I’m saying yes,” you confess, and Gwen immediately jumps up, taking you into a hug. “Oh my goodness, this is amazing! You’re getting engaged!” she squeals.
You try not to overthink your lack of excitement in comparison to her. You don’t dwell on how you feel nothing at all. Instead, you plan in your head what you’ll be wearing to the planned proposal and if you can make do with what you already have in your closet.
The proposal, as planned, arrives the following week. Harry invites you and half the city to a party at his luxurious estate, and after light appetizers and a champagne toast, he gets down on one knee and asks you the question you practiced answering in the mirror for days leading up to it.
“Yes, of course,” you say simply, a smile plastered on your face.
Everyone around you erupts into cheers. Bottles pop, men clap each other on the back, women squeal with excitement, and you can hear your mother and Gwen sobbing happily. The sounds are loud, the celebration grandiose, yet it all fades into silence. The world slows around you, each movement unfolding in a blur as your vision softens. You almost fell numb to the ring being slid up your finger.
It's gaudy and not even close to something you would have picked out, with a diamond so obnoxious, you're sure the money could have been spent feeding half the city. Harry stands up and snakes an arm around your waist, smiling as cameras pop up from the crowd, flashes blinding you completely as he pulls you closer to him.
“Take it in. As the future Mrs. Osborn, the world is your fucking oyster,” he whispers in your ear with a low chuckle, the kind that makes it clear he expects this level of admiration because everyone else exists a level beneath him. You ignore the sick feeling in your stomach and continue to smile.
The next day, that same smile is plastered on the front page of the Daily Bugle.
You spent the next few weeks leading up to the wedding playing the part of 'perfect fiancé'. Attending social events with Harry, standing by him in support during public appearances, and most importantly, agreeing to whatever he requests. So, when Harry asks to go to the circus, you say yes despite not wanting to, because that would make him happy. And you knew that the key to a successful marriage was a happy husband.
Anything else you craved, the books you spent hours devouring could give you.
—————————————————
The big red-and-white tent is an eyesore. There are strings of lights hung all around it, and crowds were walking in with a giddiness you couldn’t imagine exhibiting, but it was enjoyable to observe. Harry is chatting with his friend, Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson, while his girlfriend, Elizabeth Allan, is clad by your side.
“Oooh, you’re so lucky. I overheard Flash talking with Harry, and he said that he’s planning on having your ceremony at the Met! Is that true?! Oh, you’re going to have the most romantic wedding the city has ever seen. You have to let me be your maid of honor; I could absolutely plan the best…”
You don’t remember anything else about the conversation because, like most times, you zone out and just watch the world around you: the kids running gleefully into the tent, couples holding hands and giggling, the man on a unicycle greeting people in.
You’re grounded back to reality, though, when you reach your seats on a row of bleachers, and Harry tugs you into the seat next to him.
“I’m really hoping they have those freaks in the show. You know, like the bearded lady and the guy with lobster claws for hands,” Flash gushes obnoxiously, waving his hand over at a vendor walking his way.
Harry chuckles, passing the vendor a bill once he approaches, grabbing a box of popcorn and a bag of peanuts.
“You’re a freak yourself, Thompson, if you’re into those weirdos.”
He passes the box of popcorn to you, and you take it, despite not wanting any, because you know Harry just intends for you to hold it for him.
Suddenly, the lights dim and a single spotlight appears in the middle of the ring. A voice booms throughout the walls of the tent, and you can feel the nervous energy radiating off of everyone inside of it, anticipating the spectacle that’s to come.
“Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to the greatest show on earth!” A strong, boisterous voice announces, and the audience goes wild in applause and cheers.
The energy is like this throughout the entire show: constant whooping and hollering at the clowns and lions, and stuntmen shooting out of cannons. It was all a sight to be seen, and even you were completely entranced.
The lights dim once more as the previous act makes its way out of the center of the ring, and the announcer once again begins to speak.
“And now, prepare to be completely astounded by our most amazing act yet. Ladies and gentlemen, I advise you to keep your eyes wide open, for you will not want to miss what will surely be the first time you have ever seen such a spectacle. Behold, a man and a spider combined as one!”
The audience cheers, Flash near you stomping his feet on the metal below you as he whoops and hollers.
Your brows furrow, mind going through all the possibilities of this being possible. Was he a man with extra limbs? Extra eyes on his face? Capable of shooting webbing out of his-
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Amazing Spider-Man!”
A spotlight focuses on the top of the tent’s ceiling, and the whole crowd collectively gasps when they realize there’s someone there. The Amazing Spider-Man is clad in a blue and red suit with his hands and legs sticking to the top of the tent, causing a riot as he begins to crawl all around it.
“No fucking way!” Flash shouts in disbelief, and Harry laughs, reaching over to slap him on the shoulder.
“There’s your freak, Thompson,” he says, but you try your best to ignore them as you’re completely captivated by this ‘Amazing Spider-Man’.
Suddenly, Spider-Man stretches one of his hands out and shoots what looks like a web, attaching it to the other side of the ceiling.
The audience goes crazy, and your eyes widen in astonishment as Spider-Man jumps and swings down at the crowd.
He does this for a bit, doing flips and spins as he shoots web after web, swinging and diving down at the audience. Finally, he lands at the center of the ring, and the audience all stands up, including you, to give him a standing ovation.
He bows, waving his hand before
And that’s all you could think about as the show carried on: The Amazing Spider-Man who defied logic and did the impossible. It made your heart race, hands vibrating with excitement. You don’t understand why you’re feeling this way, never having been like this before, but when the show ends, a thrill stirs inside of you. Which is why, as you trail behind the group as everyone exits, your eyes immediately scan the crowd for the red and blue suit.
And as if the universe was curious about what the plot would entail if you did, you spot Spider-Man walking towards another tent in the distance. You don’t know what comes over you, certainly not logic, as you had a feeling that left your body as soon as he performed, but you quietly escape the group to pursue him.
You quickly enter the tent, back against the fabric as you close your eyes and let out a deep breath you were keeping in. Once you open them, you take in your surroundings. There was a humble bed, a rack with men’s apparel, and a small dresser that had seen better days. On top of the dresser, there were photo frames, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing one. The picture was that of an older woman with gray hair and kind eyes. You wondered who she was to this mysterious Spider-Man.
“Uh… can I help you?” a voice booms from above, and your head immediately snaps up with a jump.
There he was, Spider-Man hanging upside down from atop the ceiling.
You gasp as he lowers himself towards you, big white eyes staring straight into yours. Up close, you can see the details of his suit: the black web details artfully crafted throughout it, the spider emblem displayed in the middle. Your heart races with a mix of fear and excitement. The Amazing Spider-Man was right in front of you, staring you down, yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to look away.
At this, you fiddle with your hands, cheeks warming up at the realization that you, in fact, had no solid reason for approaching him.
“No, umm…a-actually, I just wanted to say that I very much enjoyed the show. Especially your act,” you state, and you're sure he can tell how flustered you are.
But even if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, even with the mask covering his face, you can tell he seems taken aback.
“Oh. Uhh…thanks. You know, I never had someone enjoy the show so much that they follow me home, but I'm flattered,” he says, and with a yank of his wrist, the web attached to the roof breaks off, and he flips to a standing, upright position.
Standing in front of you, you feel your breath hitch in your throat, realizing how tall and intimidating he seems. You try to keep your composure.
“I’m sorry. I know that was very forward of me to do. I just…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me,” you say, realization washing over you.
You just followed a strange man into his ‘room’. What is going on with you???
“I sincerely apologize. I…I’ll just….”
“Why did you?” he asks, eyes remaining on you, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. “Follow me, I mean. Did you want to see if I had spider eyes or extra limbs I'm hiding? Curious as to how much of a freak I am?” There’s something in his tone that throws you off. A mix of amusement and bitterness.
You shake your head, fully embarrassed. “N-no. I…I just really liked your act. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I just wanted….” You pause, realizing you had no genuine idea what you intended to happen. For the first time ever, you just did something for no reason at all other than that you just wanted to.
“I don’t know why I did it. I just…did,” you admit, and he studies you in silence.
Just when you’re about to let out another apology and excuse yourself out of his tent, he suddenly steps closer to you, causing you to flinch lightly at his rapid movement. He doesn’t utter a word or a sound, his face hovering above yours as he stands just inches away from you. You feel your heart beating fast against your chest, and you're worried he can hear it too.
His masked face tilts slightly, as if he’s drinking you in fully. You should be afraid, you know it, but instead you feel…exhilarated. You hold your breath, waiting for whatever he says next.
“You sound like you make very rational decisions,” he finally says, catching you off guard, and you surprise yourself with a breathless laugh.
“Believe it or not, I normally do. I think the show just messed with my head,” you admit, and you feel a warmth in your chest when you hear him reciprocate the laughter.
“Yeah, this place can do that to you. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Miss…?” he says, and outstretches his hand towards you.
You stare at it for a moment before slipping your hand hesitantly into his, allowing him to give it a shake, and it’s something in his skin touching yours, despite it being completely covered by his suit, that sends shivers down your spine.
You reveal your name to him, which he repeats, and you feel a slight flutter in your chest at hearing his voice say it. He releases your hand from his grip, and you finally avert your eyes from his, knowing you probably look flushed.
“Are you here with your family or…?”
You look back up at him, not expecting him to ask anything like that.
“Umm..I’m actually here with some friends. And, uh… my fiancé,” you admit, and you think you see his body stiffen.
“Fiancé, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised. A pretty girl like you? Makes sense you’d be spoken for,” he says, and you feel your face heat up.
What you’re feeling at this moment, this bashfulness and warmth that sends shockwaves throughout your entire body, is like nothing you’ve ever felt. It’s foreign, and it makes you nervous, but it also excites you.
This man excites you.
So you have to be pardoned when you make a complete fool of yourself and say:
“I don’t love him, though,” you confess before you even have a chance to realize what you’re saying.
You immediately wish that the ground would swallow you whole, especially when you can almost feel him being completely thrown off.
“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That was completely inappropriate. My apologies, I will be going now…”
“You don’t?” he questions, and despite not being able to see his eyes, you once again can feel something coming off of them. Amusement? Curiosity?
You process his question as your mouth opens and closes in a failed attempt to form coherent words.
“I…”
The way he’s seemingly sizing you up now makes you want to run away.
Oh, what a stupid fool you’ve made of yourself.
Spider-Man shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I was just not expecting that response, but I also know it’s not right of me to ask. We can just forget it happened and start over. Hi, I’m Spider-Man,” he states and lifts his hand to you once again.
You stare at his hand for a moment, slightly hesitant, before a small smile forms on your lips.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully, taking his hand once again.
“I take it this is your first time seeing our show?” he asks, and you nod.
“It’s my first time seeing anything like this, actually. And I have to say, it’s the most thrilling I’ve ever felt,” you confess honestly.
He chuckles softly, finally stepping away from you to stand a comfortable distance. “Really? Wow, then I’m honored. Although trust me when I tell you that, despite what the boss says, we’re far from the greatest show on earth.”
You giggle at this, surprising yourself with the sound. You can’t remember the last time you ‘giggled’. You didn’t even think you still could.
Suddenly, he pulls his wrist out, and with a thwip, a web shoots out and sticks to the wall of the tent behind him. You gasp as he swings towards it, staring up at him in awe as he lands, hands and feet sticking to it perfectly.
“See, that’s incredible! How do you do that?” you ask, and you feel a giant giddy smile take over your face.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I got bit by a spider not too long ago, and then I started being able to do things like this,” he confesses as he begins to crawl up towards the ceiling and then back down the wall behind you.
You turn around, eyes fully glued to his every movement. “Amazing,” you say breathlessly, as he lands on his two feet in front of you once again.
“That’s my name; don’t wear it out,” he jokes, and you laugh.
He’s funny.
“Are you busy right now?” he asks suddenly.
Your mouth forms a small ‘o’, suddenly remembering the group you came with. You turn around and slightly lift the fabric of the tent up so you can peep outside. Your eyes search the crowd, and you immediately spot Harry scanning the groups of people who are still exiting the tent.
“Right. Your fiancé, huh?”
You look back at him, an apologetic expression on your face.
“Yes. I…thank you for such an amazing show. Really, I think this will be the highlight of my life. I wish you much success, Spider-Man,” you say with a small smile, mustering up the gratitude you feel towards him.
But what you don’t know is that your eyes clearly betray the smile on your face, a sadness he notes immediately.
You turn around, and just as you’re about to exit the tent, you feel him gently pull your arm to turn towards him.
“Please don’t feel any pressure to accept, but we’re actually going to be here all week. We have a contract to put on the show every night. And since you really enjoyed yourself, I think you should come back tomorrow so I can give you a tour. You know, meet everyone, find out some behind-the-scenes magic. Maybe even let you pet the elephants,” he suggests, and your eyes light up in excitement.
“R-really?” you ask in awe, and he nods, responding with a simple “Absolutely.”
The sad look in your eyes immediately shifts to excitement, and it stirs butterflies in his chest. Despite having just met you, the light in your eyes and smile felt intoxicating. He wanted to drink it up as much as he could.
So when you say yes to meeting him tomorrow, he’s ecstatic and promises to give you the best time of your life. You say your goodbyes, and he watches you run off to your fiancé, who looks less than pleased at you having disappeared.
He notices the way you shrink in place, and in his head, he replays your conversation and the sudden mention of not loving your fiancé. It was strange and disturbing, and anyone else would think it too forward, but he understood that you must have been feeling exasperated enough to have confessed that to a stranger like him.
Yet, something about you felt familiar. Like he knew you from beyond this moment. Like this was meant to happen, and he had been waiting for you to stumble into his tent all this time.
He finally rips the mask off his face and sighs heavily, flopping onto his bed as he faces the top of the tent.
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