☆‧₊˚Cat N' Spider ⋆.˚[1.7.24]- e42!Miles x Reader 🕸˖°.TWs || Miles is lowkey a pottymouthhh
What makes a villain? Is it their frigid, pompous attitude tailored to mask that sentimental wound from past trauma? Or is it the narcissistic qualities that wash away the blood of the innocent from their fleeting, voided sense of memory? No matter the man or lady behind the mask, they all unite under one common umbrella- shielding themselves from the icy rainwater that forces them to heed the treacherous callback from the rain…
A desperate covet to be acknowledged…no…remembered.
Villains aren’t born; they’re created. There was no such thing as “good” or “bad”, there was survival, and there were morals. And when you were only thirteen, you became the victim of a team of scientists determined to create a “better” world for you and the Brooklyn, New York population. So emerged Plan 42-J, where a spider was sucked up from your world and engineered on another.
And when that spider found itself back in your world, guess whose teeth it found refuge in?
Little old you!
“Yeah…I’ll be there at like seven. You want somethin’ from the store?” Your boyfriend, Miles grunted, his scarred and sculpted shoulder blades facing the camera as he made himself look presentable in his bathroom mirror. “Uhhh, you don’t have to…Actually, wait, get me a pineapple Fanta and some chips,” you muttered, tugging on your pretty little red Converse with as much force as physically possible.
“Bet–...I might be a little late actually,” Miles sighed, turning around to face the camera and picking up his phone as he began to tap away at the miniature keyboard. Your face pulled into a deep frown, jet black brows furrowing as you pulled your face up from the invisible string connecting you and your shoelaces. “Miles, come on now…this is like the hundredth time you were late to shit we planned!” You grunted, rolling your eyes in slight sorrow and annoyance.
“I know, I know. I’ll try to wrap this shit up as fast as possible, I’m sorry mama” he sighed, running an exasperated hand across his face. “It’s just thirty minutes, ok?” He reassured, his gentle and wispy eyelashes batting softly as he toyed with the gifted gold-clad locket that nestled perfectly between his collarbones. You sighed, pressing the end-call button before falling backward on your couch, sinking into the comfy beige cotton and sighing deeply.
It wasn’t even 20 minutes before you were prompted to spring up from your couch, turning on the TV to monitor whatever was happening in Brooklyn today. Crime rates are dropping, cities are being rebuilt, and smiles are all around. A sense of gratitude washed over you– you weren’t too fond of being Spider-Girl ever since you found out about HQ, but it made ‘fixing’ your world much more satisfying.
But alas, good things don’t last forever. The news reporters' eyes widened as they cupped their ears with what looked like shock and fear, cutting themselves off mid-script to announce a new threat down Kings Plaza. “Oh hold on– give me just a second, Brent, but we’re just now receiving word that the infamous ‘Prowler’ has been spotted down at the abandoned Kings Plaza shopping outlet. Witnesses say he was seen breaking through the window of the old building, presumably chasing after a taller man.”
You groaned loudly, throwing two unfortunate pillows off the couch as you stomped back upstairs to throw on your crimson and white Spider-Suit. “Stupid fucking prowler…ruining my fuckin’ date night,” you grumbled, angrily pulling the mask over your face before calling out to your mom. “Hey, mom? I’m gonna make a store run before Miles gets here! I'm gonna grab ingredients for cookies!” You shouted, quickly opening and closing the door so it’d seem like you left the house.
You slipped out the back window, climbing your way up the fire escape before swinging through the night, wind cascading across your masked face, taking deep gulps of air through your nostrils. Your blood boiled like overboiled soup stock, salt and muck bubbling to the surface as you grumbled under your breath. That stupid fuck ass had a habit of somehow ruining your quality time with your boyfriend, postponing dates and meetups in a futile attempt to put away your irksome ‘nemesis.’
You’ve had a couple of encounters with the Prowler, with him being the most determined villain since the ‘Rise of Spider-Girl’. Of all the many villains you’d put away, he seemed the most persistent in riding his wave of crime to fruition. The air, filled with its normal hubbub, voices clamoring together as car engines blended to create the everyday atmosphere of Brooklyn.
You dipped down in between the abandoned subway, scanning the topography of the old station before hearing an uncomfortably loud–
BANG!
You got up on your feet, quickly scanning the areas as you attempted to squint through the thick veil of darkness that covered your eyes. The soft, meshy fabric of your red and white spider mask made everything increasingly more difficult as you attempted to analyze every small detail of your location. Blurry pipes, massive trash bags, debris, and a run-down train that had been claimed by rust and nature.
You walked down the wide tunnel, clicking on the flashlight that you had attached to your tactical belt a couple of months ago. You smiled to yourself, glad that one of the many trinkets you’d created since becoming Spider-Girl was proving to be useful. It was freezing, your jaw clenching as you lumbered forward, running your gloved fingertips across the rusty metal walls.
“Yo! Come on, man. I know you’re down here somewhere, and I don’t wanna be in this cold-ass tunnel!” You shouted, not even sure if you were actually talking to anyone else. “I mean, hero to…villain? Anti-Hero? I’m sure you’ve got people to get home to. And I’d hate to send your busted ass home to your wife and kids with new bruises,” You threatened, voice low and serious as you began to do another routine scan around your new surroundings.
“My wife is none of your business,” A stern and rather agitated voice spoke from the far distance, causing you to whip your head around and assume a battle stance. You sucked in a large breath of air, lungs expanding and burning with each passing second as you ran forward at half your usual speed. “And I’m not going home with shit. From you.” He enunciated, the static overlay coating his voice like molten lava and burnt sugar.
“Man, wrap this up! All of the other villains are putting their shit away, why can’t you! Have you ever considered a job?” You spat, stopping mere inches away from the source of the loathsome voice before squinting up at the Prowler. “You’re the most desperate bitch I’ve ever fought with, you know that? I’ve never felt the need to prove something this bad,” You spat, growing more and more agitated by the second.
“You funny as shit for real. Now If Ian have no human decency, I’d have been sent yo lil’ass to the hospital but ion put my hands on women cuz my daddy raised me betta’ than that. So we can do it like this– you can get the fuck out of my face and I can keep my hands to myself, or I can show all of Brooklyn how you nothin’ but a lil girl playing pretend in tight spandex,” He grunted, dropping down from the tall ceiling and hitting the ground with a sickeningly heavy thud.
His mask illuminated about 6 inches in front of him with bright purple, advancing towards you slowly as he invaded your personal space. You were sure that had he not worn his signature holographic mask, you would’ve felt his breath ghost the tip of your nose. He was so close you could lift a finger and make immediate contact with his chest.
“You piss me the fuck off.” You grunted, staring back at the monster in front of you as you let the thick, discomforting silence fill the lack of space between the two of you. He was menacing, it made you wanna get as far away from him as possible and go home to your kind, and loving boyfriend. But a job’s a job, no matter how intimidating the ‘client’.
“And you give me a fuckin’ headache. ¿Lo sabes, verdad?” He rasped, quickly landing a sharp blow straight to your gut as he sent you flying backward almost one foot. It hurt like hell, your stomach suddenly felt tight and uncomfortably empty as you struggled to regain control over your breathing. “Mira, me estás haciendo sentir mal. You think I wanna hit you?” he muttered, slowly backing away from you before taking off in the opposite direction.
What a fucking dickhead.
You swallowed the bile that threatened to erupt from your gullet, regaining your footing and taking off after the arrogant man once more. You focused on your breathing, drawing long and stable breaths that you allowed to ease the pain that plagued your gut. The wind whistled around your ears as you charged forward, gentle howls and soft rustles caressing your ears with each step.
You followed the harsh neon purple lighting, giggling slightly at how obvious was when you actually got up close to the guy and were able to see his mask. Your footsteps echoed across the tunnel, the heavy thuds mingling with your dull pitter-pattering as you managed to catch up to the unknown man, tackling him from behind as you made a futile attempt to pin him to the ground. And for a second it felt as though he had relaxed into your hold, his usual tense and guarded posture faltering for only a fraction of a second before you felt a painful grip on your wrist.
You went flying forward, narrowly avoiding landing on your neck as you scrambled to land on your feet. Throughout this entire confrontation, your spider-sense seemed to fail you time and time again to warn you of your opponent's attacks, making it increasingly harder to dodge any sort of blow he would deliver. Your right cheek, neck, shoulders, and gut all ached with pain as you struggled to memorize his attack pattern.
He was unpredictable; switching his style of fighting with every new punch while you went through trial and error of pattern memorization. There were claw marks in your suit near your sides that revealed your skin as you finally found a solid fighting technique against the taller man. You finally found your perfect balance, landing disgustingly heavy blows to any part of him that you could reach.
He was lean. He may be built like a twig on the surface, but his entire body was fortified by nothing but pure muscle mass. He felt nearly hard to the touch as you threw your body weight into every strike. “You’re solid. You could put your…odd level of strength to much better use, c’monnnn,” you half-whined, groaning as you resorted to low blows and a style that consisted of legwork.
The white slits on his holographic mask narrowed, indicating his clear disgust as he jumped over your smaller form. “I have things to do. You’re in my way, little bug…” He spat, making a break for the surface as he ran onto the platform and seemingly glided up the stairs. Fuck, how annoying can someone get? He was faster than a bullet train and had incredible levels of stamina.
He was everything you needed in battle. Each time you found yourselves tangled in each other's path, there was an unexplainable tension that stuck each of you together with a bond stronger than any glue. Not to mention the way he managed to evade every single sense that spider had given you; almost like he wasn’t a threat.
You watched him dart up the block, getting ahead start on a taller building as he dug his claws into the sturdy brick. He climbed like a hungry panther chasing their next meal, starving for some sort of adrenaline as you followed closely behind him. The moon illuminated his figure in a ghostly white hue, highlighting the scratched metal of his suit components.
The frigid air left gentle kisses across your clothed limbs, provoking goosebumps as you pulled yourself up on the rough, concrete roof of some random building. You looked at the man, who rested an annoyed hand on his wounded shoulder as his mask mimicked an eye roll. “No quiero lastimarte. Pero, tengo una esposa en casa,” He grunted before quickly advancing towards you with pure anger.
Suddenly, as if they couldn't be late enough, that familiar tingle ran down your spine as you saw his next move in real-time before it happened. You grabbed his left wrist, which began to outstretch in your direction, and forced pressure onto his trigger point. He released a pained groan before you lunged forward, sending the two of you tumbling forward as something fell out of the collar of the neckline of his shirt.
The white eyes widened as a pretty little gold-clad heart locket dangled around his neck, spinning wildly before settling on his chest without so much as a sound. His eyes widened, kicking you off of him before tucking the locket back in his shirt with a relieved sigh and a silent prayer. “Weird. I gave that same locket to my boyfriend,” You muttered.
There was a low chuckle that sounded more annoyed rather than amused before he shuffled back to his feet and stood underneath the pale moonlight. “My wife gave this to me. Touch it, and i’ll fuckin’ kill you this time” he enunciated, a narrow squint to add insult to his words. “Anniversary gift. I hope you not trynna get personal, cuz I’m still gon whoop your ass”
The gears started turning in your brain as you stopped, your posture relaxing as your closed fist came to a rest on your upper left hip. “June 2nd?” You asked, eyes widening a fraction as you slowly backed away from…the boy? In front of you.
He stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and fear before nodding slowly. “Yeah…why?” He murmured as he walked towards you, quickly closing any distance between you that you worked so hard to make. “Mozz?” You asked, gentle curiosity laced in your tone for the first time that night.
Miles looked dumbfounded. His sudden aura of anger and nonchalance melted before your very eyes before quiet forced giggles erupted from his throat. Quiet giddy chuckles quickly became cries, babbles of “I'm sorry” quickly leaving his lips as he lowered himself to the ground and became consumed by regret. “Ma I’m so fucking sorry I would’ve never put my hands on you…” he whispered, shaky breaths leaving his lips as you quickly came to his aid.
“Wait nononono don’t cry!” you pleaded, checking your surroundings to make sure there weren't any cameras, helicopters, or paparazzi before pulling off your mask. “This doesn’t even hurt! It’s fine! C’mon don’t cry, get up,” You pleaded as you scooped up your weeping boyfriend off the floor. His mask collapsed as he leaned into your hold, wetting your suit with salty tears as he grasped at your hand.
“It’s not fine! Since when is me hurting you fine!” He gasped, “I never wanted to do this prowler shit! I only did it so Mamí wouldn’t have to worry about bills…” he confessed as you peppered gentle kisses to his face. You nodded as he came apart in your arms, feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces as he practically died upon hearing his nickname.
“Miles, I’m not mad! I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me. It’s my JOB to stop villains. It's YOUR job to…be a villain! I still don’t know what you do I’m sorry boo,” you confessed, giving his head gentle pats as he chuckled into your side. “I’m not no villain. I just do what people tell me,” he shrugged, pulling you down to the ‘ground’ with him.
“ ‘m sorry. You know that right? I’ll quit all of this prowler shit Ma I just never wanna hurt you again” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you impossibly closer to him.
“You miss a date again and I’m turning you in,” you joked in between kisses.
“Yeah Yeah my bad”
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