The Spot X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Ohnn ;-;!

I want to do things to him

I don't draw hin as oily and fucked up as he should be and I'm sorry

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY

Forbidden experimenting!

(This is based on a fanfic in AO3 called “in my mouth” btw pls go check it out, its mind boggling)

Ugh just watched the movie and this man had me giggling and twirling my hair

your undivided attention

im so normal about this cringefail, wet paperbag man haha :)) Idk what this is i just had to let it out, but i hope you find some joy in it <;3 warnings: the spot/johnathon ohnn being incredibly pathetic

He thinks about it hard. How he had failed so badly.

Okay, so he’s failed in a lot of things, he had failed that morning in stealing some cash from an old lady.

But this time, he’s thinking specifically about how he failed with you. At getting your attention.

He tried everything.

He left fresh donuts on your desk (without a single note or name), he stared at you from across the room (never actually spoke to you and tried to act indifferent every single time you looked even remotely his way).

He even sent that information you requested once for the science article you were writing and added a smiling face at the end of his email. God thats pathetic. 

To be fair, getting noticed in a megacorporation such as Alchemax was highly unlikely. 

Not when you’re getting hit in the head with a bagel by Spiderman though. 

The memory sinks in again, each time more painful than the last. How embarrassing. 

He remembers your stifling giggles and how they burned in his head for days after. Of course thats the one time he managed to get your attention. 

The sound of your laugh is so vivid and mocking, yet its somehow addicting to him. He keeps coming back to it, for some reason? 

Oh, that cant be good. 

He thinks about it so hard, it swallows him whole. 

No really, it does. A hole opens up from under him and he’s being engulfed by the black void of it. 

There I go again. He thinks, not really surprised or alarmed at this point. 

He lands face down, ass up in your apartment.

Not that he realizes at first. 

Not until he picks up a framed picture from the coffee table and sees the image of you smiling with your friends. Oh shit. 

He’s filled with dread almost immediately, he never dared to speak to you back when he was "normal"/before the incident and now he’s inside your living space without your consent. 

He tumbles back in panic and drops a few books, accidentally opens up a hole on the ground while trying to salvage them only for them to land on his head, one by one with a hard thump. 

Ow. Fuck. Ow. Guess I deserve that. Ow.

“Are you kidding me?!!!“ He exclaims in outrage at the other accidental hole that stays put on the ceiling, not really bothering with being silent anymore. 

But when he hears your steps the panic rises up again. Oh my god, they're gonna scream bloody murder. He thinks. They're gonna scream and run like a crazy person. 

Or worse. They'll laugh. 

Again. 

Just like everyone else did. 

In a matter of seconds you stand before him and he holds his hands up in defense and starts speaking on impulse like he always does. 

“Okay so, weirdest thing just happened. Dont freak out-“ 

And you gasp, a hand to your chest. Mouth hanging open but no sound coming out. 

“Please dont freak out. See i have these holes. And somehow my holes guided me to you. I’m still figuring out how-“ 

And then the sound of his name feels as if it rips the sound barrier to him. It almost sounds foreign at this point.

“Johnathon” You say it, with a tint of excitement. 

Wait, what?

“Huh? You know who I am?” He asks, dumbfounded. A blank expression on his face (figuratively and literally). 

And there it is again, in its full volume. Your giggles. 

But this time, they burn in a different kind of way. The quality of them so impish he swears it might turn his whole body a bright red. 

“Of course i do, silly” You say, sweet and a maybe even a bit mischevious. 

And he doesn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before. The large mounted board on the wall of your make-shift office he currently stands in. 

Dozens of blurry pictures of him, post-it notes, connecting dots, scribbles and newspaper clippings all of sightings of him. 

He puts it all together in seconds, yet it only makes his nervous aura worsen. You were trying to figure out what happened to him,  you were investigating him. Writing about him.

When he turns to face you again he finds a knowing smile and glimmering eyes staring back at him.

Oh.

He’s had your undivided attention for a while. 

Can I have both please 🥺🙏🏻

001. atsv headcanons ! ★ jonathon ohnn & miguel o’hara both falling for the reader…

⁀➷ srcs... masterlist . rules . intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ for the sake of this scenario, miguel and johnathon are working for alchemax in the same universe at the same time. miguel is a geneticist and johnathon is a physicist. you, my dear reader, are the cute receptionist!🥺

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; au; miguel o'hara; spider-man 2099; johnathon ohnn; the spot; love triangle; jealousy; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> jealousy, slightly implied age gap, cursing

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> woo my first post yay!! anyways requests are open for johnathon ohnn, miguel o'hara, and hobie brown if y'all are interested <3 my masterlist n rules are still a wip so stay tuned for that!

both men love their work but it still stresses the hell out of them. they’d enter and leave work exhausted. but then you started working at alchemax. you - with your bright smile and glittering eyes. most of the scientists and associates were drawn to you, but miguel and johnathon were on a whole nother level.

johnathon definitely fell first. it was daunting when someone he found attractive was being so sweet to him. jonathon’s usually too stuck in his own little world to care about such frivolities, so you were something special.  

★ he’s been late so many times because he’d chat with you for too long at your desk. at first he stumbled on his words with you, struggling to maintain eye contact while simultaneously trying not to stare too hard. now you’re one of the few people he feels comforting rambling to, because he knows you’re listening ★ johnathon loves it when you’d call him “doctor,” despite him insisting on his first name. sensing that air of respect from you makes him feel good about himself. ★ he takes great pride in making you laugh and smile with every chance he gets. this physicist has a vast arsenal of cheesy jokes, bad puns, and cute pick-up lines.  ★ he visits you throughout the day whenever he can, and tries to muster up the courage to have lunch with you. you’re young and gorgeous and out of his league but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. and then miguel o'hara came back from his business trip.

miguel didn’t care for the last receptionist. she was rude and lazy and got his name wrong. so it was a pleasant surprise when he was greeted by you instead. 

★ at first, your peppiness was too much for him, especially in the morning. he’d brush off your attempts at conversation and only mumble back to you when needed. such is the way of the resident grump at alchemax. but eventually, you wormed your way into his heart by remembering how he likes his coffee and staying up to help him on late nights in the lab. ★ miguel had to admit, you were a joy to have around. …and very very nice to look at. miguel's had a few serious relationships in the past, but they never ended well. since then he’s only indulged in one-night stands and temporary hook-ups. but he refused to look at you so fleetingly.  ★ miguel started bringing you expensive bouquets of flowers for your desk, along with sweet little notes. he’s obsessed with the scent of your vanilla perfume. he wants to be your hero, there to open every door, pull out every chair, and drive away any creep. for him, creeps include johnathon.

johnathon wasn’t concerned when he’d see other scientists and workers flirt with you. he wholeheartedly believed you two had a special connection that couldn’t be replicated. but seeing miguel turn you into a blushing stuttering mess proved him wrong. there was competition closer than he thought, and if he didn’t act quickly, he’d lose you for good.

★ johnathon felt deeply insecure in comparison to miguel. dr. o’hara’s movie star face & dreamy hair made him feel like crap.  ★ miguel clearly had way more experience in dating, always flirting with you so smoothly. johnathon on the other hand, is pretty sure he’s stuck in the friendzone with you. so he decided to experiment with bolder methods of winning your heart. ★ jonathon’s been more direct, showering you with compliments and buying you lunch whenever he could. he made it abundantly clear that he was single and that he liked you very much. you were his favorite person at alchemax, and for good reason.

miguel honestly thinks johnathon’s annoying as fuck. once john accidentally spilled hot coffee onto miguel on a very bad day, and he’s been bitter ever since. in the past johnathon would be friendly, but miguel would brush him off. who the hell is this lanky ass nerd and why is he hovering over him in HIS lab? 

★ now he’s wondering why the geek is messing with his love now. it pisses him off, not just because johnathon knows he feels the same about you, but how john makes you happier than he’s ever seen you be. miguel’s flirty, and funny in his own, stubborn way, but he lacked johnathon’s endearing dorky nature that had you hooked. ★ miguel is soooo grumpy lmao ★ really johnny is such a silly sweet guy while miguel, mr. give everything 1000% over here is fighting for his life. it took miguel a whole ass week to come up with a joke as good as johnathon’s that made you laugh your ass off. my guy is trying waaay too hard.

at first, miguel confronts johnathon kindly. he’s sympathetic and straight to the point - they both hold the same intentions towards you, but only one of them can win. he can tell that johnathon’s a good guy, with a big heart, so he’d understand… right?

★ “i’m in love with them, dr. ohnn. this isn’t just a silly crush. so either help me, or please refrain from getting in my way.” ★ “no, i’m good.” ★ “...you’re WHAT?”

war!!!!! miguel is a bitch to johnathon. dr. octavius has to give johnathon advice on how to win you over and how to fend off miguel. he’s gotten a lot better at brushing off miguel’s judgemental comments and acting unbothered by them.

although it’s not like johnathon isn’t cunty either. when he makes you laugh sometimes it’s because he’s making fun of miguel behind his back. he has a killer miguel impression that puts the original to shame.

★ “ugh, my shoulders are too broad and muscular. it’s so hard being so fit.” ★ “johnny!! he’s coming this way!” ★ “i work out every single part of my body at the gym. i do forehead pushups to keep my hairline in check.” ★ “JOHNNY-”

as long as a certain collider project goes swimmingly, and a radioactive spider stays in it’s fucking lane,  you’ll end up with one of them.

…unless…? ;)

Pleaseeee I need us to get back w him😭😭😭

Spots and Stops

Continuation to Cookies and Cream this isn't really a fix-it fic, cause like i got like a request to do so and i'll defs try to, but also i got like two people who wanted a part 2 so here it is

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: People wanted a part two and i want to please the masses, and i have ideas so like here you go

-

Regret is all that you know. It consumes you, starting at your chest, making it ache the entire day, and settles in your stomach to the point that you can’t consume anything without it tasting bitter. You should have reacted better. You should have held him and told him that him being spotted wasn’t a dealbreaker. 

But you didn’t.

Instead, you did everything wrong. He needed you. He needed someone, and he came to you. Somewhere, he thought to himself, that you would have accepted him, past your fear, past your hesitations and desires. He thought that you would want him. 

In your entire relationship, you never thought that he would have ever been wrong. But he was, and in the worst way imaginable. 

You have to force yourself to hide what belonged to him. You can’t bear to look at it- at him, at what used to be his. You hold his nightshirts in your hand, staring at them for far too long, lost in thought of what could have been. You really did think that you two would be together for a long time. 

The fabric is wrinkled, the tag of the shirt curled in on itself and frayed at the edges. His toothbrush is still next to the faucet, and his face wash remains untouched. You can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

He won’t return. You won’t see him again, and as selfish and awful it is of you to keep something of the man that you rejected- you need to keep his things. You need to keep his shirts, and pants. You need to keep his skincare products. You need to keep his toothbrush. You need to keep some part of him with you. 

A part of you wants him to return. You want him to come back; you want to take him up on that deal of starting fresh, of how he won’t hold what you said against you. How he was so willing to hide himself, just to stay with you. At some point, you expected to come into your home and find his stuff gone- the final sign that he has left your life- that he took what was his when you weren’t home. But he hadn’t. And he won’t. He would always listen to you. Always respected your wishes, and the final one was for him to leave.

You’re an awful person. You’re sickening. Tears dot on his shirt, and you place it beside you on the edge of the bed. Your knuckle wipes harshly at your eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, you force yourself to think of something happy. You don’t deserve to grieve the loss of the relationship. Not when you still have a home. A job. Loved ones. You have it all. He doesn’t. If anyone deserves to cry, it’s Jonathan.

You think of kittens and puppies.

You think of how his voice broke when he called your name.

You think of a memory with a friend where you had a picnic.

You think of how you couldn’t handle his touch.

You think of how he would hold your hand, and act as if it were the greatest honor to do so.

You think of him crying without a face.

You think of him lonely, and cold out in the night. 

You bite your lips harshly, desperate to bring yourself back to your senses. 

The sound of the city is alive outside your window. Lights flash, colors change, and you stand in the middle of your room, willing yourself not to cry. 

-

You unlock the door, and throw your jacket on the couch. It slips and you pull a face at the audacity of having to pick it up. In your hand, you clutch the phone and listen to your friend talk.You shake the jacket, ridding it of any dirt that could have attached itself from the floor.

“Mhm,” you hum, kicking off your shoes and turning on the standing lamp, turning the knob to let a warm glow illuminate the room. You think you hear something somewhere, but you reason to yourself that it must be a pipe. “No, no. I get it. I mean, if it were me, I think I would have liked died.” Your grin is sharp when you hear your friend laugh.

“Exactly. So, that’s why I can never return to that specific bubble tea shop. Honestly, I just- it was so embarrassing,” they whine. You hear them sigh over the phone, and you stretch yourself over the couch, letting your head fall back. “Anyways, how was the date?” Your mouth pulls into a frown. “It’s been a good minute since-” they trail off, not wanting to mention his name, and you whisper a silent “thank you” at the courtesy. “Did you have fun?”

You straighten yourself back on the couch, pulling yourself close to yourself. “It was okay,” you mumble. “I don’t- I mean, he was nice and stuff, but I don’t know. I don’t really see it going anywhere.” You ate across from your date, and you wished that it was Jonathan.

“It doesn’t have to go anywhere,” the counter. “You can just have fun. You’re allowed to have fun after your last relationship.” You clench your jaw. “I know you really liked him, but he’s- you know.” You’re trying to find your words, but none come to mind. “You’re a catch- honest. You’re allowed to go on dates and enjoy yourself.”

Tears sting in your eyes, and you swallow the lump that’s made itself into your throat. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, without even trying to add faux emotion into your words.

“You uh-” they clear their throat- “Have you heard from him? Or about him? It’s kinda hard for a guy covered in-”

“I gotta go,” you mumble, not waiting for a response before you end the call. You toss the phone to the other end of the couch. You close your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts, and on the other end of the couch, you hear your phone buzz. 

There’s another sound in your apartment, and you hope that it’s an intruder. You hope that they rob you blind and leave no witnesses. You hope- selfishly hope- that you can be put out of your misery without having to do anything. Then maybe, you wouldn’t have to feel guilt and regret eat away at you. You wouldn’t have to go on anymore dates or live in an apartment with items that don’t belong to you. 

The room spins and closes in on itself and it’s difficult to breathe. Your chest feels as if it’s being crushed, held tightly with the palms of guilt and regret, squeezed until your ribs would splinter and heart would burst. Your breaths are quick and uneven. A hand clutches at your chest, and the other muffles any cries with the palm. You haven’t grieved, and the date that you went on, only confirmed that you shouldn’t. You tossed out your previous partner when he needed you the most. He cried in front of you, begged for you to accept him and you couldn’t. You’re able to continue your life as if nothing happened, he doesn’t have that same luxury. Even if you weren’t the one to cause the incident, you’re positive that you caused something worse to happen to him.

You miss him, but you shouldn’t be allowed to miss him.

Loneliness covers you in a warm blanket. It’s suffocating, and burning, holding you down as you wrap your arms around yourself. There is no comfort that you bring to yourself. There is no one that you can call. You wheeze and hold yourself. Tears burn themselves onto your face, and drip down your chin. You close your eyes tightly, biting on the bottom of your lip. You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You won’t allow yourself to feel bad about the ending of a relationship that you brought upon yourself. 

Nearby, you hear a door click open, and footfalls thump softly against your floor. There’s a knock somewhere- too rhythmic to be a pipe or anything of the sort. You cry more, hiding your face in your palms, hoping that whoever is there will take pity. There’s another knock, and you shrink in on yourself. You can’t mumble anything other than a plea for nothing and anything. Finally, the other person speaks. 

Your name is said softly, and you don’t respond. “I- I know you don’t want to see me, but are you okay?” Your chest shakes and heaves. You’re being tortured, you have to be. You’ve thought about him for far too long that you’ve begun to hallucinate his voice. “Do you need anything? I can um- I can get you a drink?” You take in a wheezing breath, one that hurts your lungs and chest. You hear rushed steps that echo away and come back in a flurry, and something blue is placed in front of you. You peek through the gaps between your fingers, and grab at a tissue.

Time seemingly doesn’t pass for as long as you cry. You sit there, whimpering and sniffling. You must look pathetic to him. And even then, he stands there. The thought of his previous form is what you picture. Picturing him as who he is now, only makes you cry harder. 

You tried to get over your silly fear. You forced yourself to look at spots and holes in clusters. You forced yourself to eat cookies and cream flavored snacks. Even after all that exposure therapy, it still made you sick to look at spots. 

This isn’t fair. None of this is. You wish that he had met someone better before he became what he is. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks and look at him through wet lashes. You can’t even tell if he’s thin or not. His body is too off- too stretched at the limbs and compressed at the torso. You can’t remember if he looked like this all those nights ago.

“I know you told me to get out but I needed some stuff.” His voice rushes at the end, and he shifts his weight, tightening his hands around the clothes and pulling it close to his body. You watch as their clothes and other items fall into a hole, and fall in a crumpled pile near the door. You turn back to look at him. “I meant to do that,” he says weakly. He clears his throat, and stands taller. “I’m allowed to come in here and get my stuff. Okay? That’s fair.” The holes swirl around, thin black lines that wrap around the edge of the circle, smaller, black dots that linger around the bigger holes. You turn your head, tears still making their way down over the curve of your face. “But um, are you okay?” He connects his hands, and fiddles with his fingers, and you can picture who he was before. 

Even after everything, he still asks if you’re okay. He does the one thing that you didn’t do for him. 

You should tell him no. You should be honest. It’s not as if lying will do any good, especially at this state. Your face is wet, and you’ve cried. In the corner of your eye, you see your former partner stand and tilt their head, trying to get a better look at you.

Looking at him hurts in a way that it hadn’t before. “I’m sorry,” you say in a quiet voice. He doesn’t respond. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, lowering your head. “I’m really sorry.” You cry, hiding your face in your hands once more. “I’m so sorry,” you wail, gasping for breath. Your shoulders shake, and your chest hurts. “I’m sorry, Jonathan,” you say as you gasp for breaths.

He stays silent, and you hope that for his sake, he left you. You hope that he’s the one who gets to leave. 

Only quivering breaths that are coupled with a flushed face and teary eyes are the remnants that you mourned. Faintly, you remember a time where he held you, where he came home to find you crying, and how he raised over still in his work attire to hold you and rock you to sleep. You blink rapidly to rid yourself of that memory. 

He sits beside you, and he’s made sure to keep his distance, perched on the other side of the couch. He turns to you, and your tissues crumble and drop to the carpet. “You look nice,” he compliments. “I always liked that color on you,” he mumbles, looking away.  

You nod. “I went on a date.” Bile burns your throat at the admission. 

“Oh.” Jonathan pats his thighs, and his nails claw, the spots seemingly swimming away from his touch. “Lucky guy.” He pauses, and clearing his throat, he turns to you. “How did it go?” He asks slowly. 

“I didn’t like the guy.” Your shoulders slump, and tears prick your eyes once more. “Um-” your voice cracks, and in the corner of your eye, you see his hand jump, reaching over to comfort you, before having to pull himself back. “He was nice. But I wasn’t-” You stop yourself. You weren’t what? You weren’t ready? After all this time, after the break-up that you initiated, you weren’t ready to put yourself back out there. You weren’t feeling the date because it wasn’t what you wanted? You didn’t want him. You wanted-  You clear your throat. “I don’t think I’m going to see him again,” you mumble. You cast a glance over to where he watches you, the hole where his face should be, spiraling and growing smaller under your gaze. “Have you been seeing anyone?”

He snorts despite the lack of features. “People aren’t really fond of my new look.” You wince and turn back to look at the floor. “But it’s fine.”

“How have you been?” You grab at another tissue, folding it into little squares. 

“Well you know me, I’ve just been here and there. Messing with my holes and stuff.” You give a small smile, turning your head to look at him. “Money’s been a bit tight, but-” he lifts his hand in the air, doing a see-saw motion with it- “Eh. What can you do, ya know?” You force yourself to look at a small cluster of spots that have congregated at his shoulder. He turns to look at you, and when noticing where your eyes have landed, he covers the spot almost self-consciously. “And you? How have you been?”

You give a shrug. “My boss has been a bit of a dick as of late,” you mutter. 

“The one with the mole?”

Your smile brightens up a bit. “Yeah, that one.” You look to the side, and back to him. “Cut my hours after I asked for a day off.” The tissue in your hand tears. “I probably should quit.” You tear the tissues into strips, letting them fall to the floor. You’ll worry about the mess later. “But after the lack of hours and the rent, I really can’t afford that.”

Jonathan stays silent for a moment. “You think you’ll be okay?” You give another shrug as your answer, and when you don’t elaborate, he presses on. “I have some money saved up. I wouldn’t mind- it’s you, you know. I know-” His offer only makes the tears start up once again, and he stops. 

You take in a quivering breath, and rub at your eyes. “You shouldn’t,” you mumble. “I’ll figure it out.” You look away from him. “Plus, I’m sure you got your own things going on. Um-” you turn back to him- “where are you living?” You hope he gives you an address. You hope he has an address to give.

“Turns out, when you work for seedy people, they know even seedier people.” He doesn’t offer anything more than that.

Silence befalls the both of you. You should say something. You should close the gap between you. You should do anything. 

Your hand slides beside you, reaching out, and you see his spot, lower itself, acting as his eyes, lowering his gaze to watch you. Sucking in your bottom lip, you turn your head. Your nails claw at the couch. 

This is wrong. You shouldn’t do this to him. He deserves better than what you can give him. You haven’t even gotten over your trypophobia. But you still want to kiss him. You want to reach over and hold him, and beg to be forgiven. You want to cling to him like you used to after a long day. You want to kiss him, and hold his hand.

To whoever is listening to you, you plead for him to reach over. You want him to take another leap of faith and beg for you. You want him to need you as bad as you need him. The box of tissues becomes blurred, and your cheeks are wet. 

“I should go.” The silence is broken, and you watch as he stands. His spots seem to drag, weighted at the bottom and stretching as he walks further away from you. “I think I got most of my stuff.”

The hole is his stomach bubbles around the rim, the circle wavy and imperfect. You rise with him, and he stands so much taller than he did before. “Do you want to borrow a tote bag or something?” He tilts his head at the offer. “It’s just that when you hold onto things, it um- it looks like they fall into you. I thought a tote bag would make it easier to carry,” your words trail off, softer and softer by the syllable. 

“I’d appreciate that,” he replies.

You nod your head and rush to your room, grabbing at a tote bag from the closet, holding and running your thumb over the stitched handles. He’s going to borrow it. You bring the handle close to you, and press your lips softly against it. 

When you walk back to the living, he stands at the end table, holding a photo frame of the two of you on an early date from what seems like a lifetime ago. You let your gaze linger on him, and when he turns, you scurry to the door, grabbing at his clothes and items, placing them delicately in the bag. You take your time to make sure everything is neat. 

He meets you halfway across the room, and when you hand the bag over, he makes sure to hold the bag above your hands. His pinky touches briefly against your index. You clench your jaw, and try not to look at him.

“Thank you.” He pulls the bag close to him, and you give a curt nod.

“Anytime,” you answer.

Turning on his heel, he walks further from you, and he stops. “I’m going to use the bathroom. I don’t want you to see what I’m going to do.” You want to see. You want to get desensitized. “It won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be out of your way soon.”

“Jonathan?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes once more. 

“Yeah?” 

“I-” You need to apologize to him. You need to tell him that you’re sorry. You need to tell him that you miss him. You need him. “You can- You can always drop by if you need something.” 

He visibly deflates. “Oh. Yeah- cool. Um, Thanks.” 

All he has to do is say that he wants you. He needs to just say it, to ask one more time- that’s all he has to do. You can’t do it. Not when you broke his heart, not when you’re unsure about where you stand in his life and his wants. 

He just has to look back, and you’d tell him that you need him. You’d kiss him, again and again. You’d plead for him to stay. You’d get over your dumb fear, and you’d be happy with him. He takes another step away from you, and you need for him to hear your heart beat against your ribs in an attempt to bully itself out of you. You need for him to stand there for a second longer, to watch and look at the lines that wrap around his body, and the holes that sift and move. You’d get over it, all for him. 

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s walking further away from you. He grabs at his body and pulls out a spot. Your stomach churns at the thought. Over the sound of cars and life, he needs to hear your heart break. He needs to understand that you need him the way that you need air. You’d die without him. You’d let yourself suffer. You stand, and lift your hand up, wanting to reach out for him. 

Turn around. 

Please.

Turn around.

That’s all he has to do. Nothing more. He doesn’t have to be someone else. He’s yours. He’s already himself. 

The door to your bathroom closes, and you suck in a breath, tears springing to flood. “Jonathan,” you croak out, finally, and you rush to open the door to the bathroom, and when you do, he isn’t there. 

You rush to your bedroom, and move the pillows, and you cling to the one shirt that he missed. The one that you hide underneath your pillows. The one that no longer smells like him, but still belongs to him. With all your might, you wish that he would return, but your prayers remain unanswered. Instead, you sit alone in a bedroom, clutching a shirt that no longer belongs to you. A shirt that has no owner. A shirt that is all that remains of someone who you need.

Omg omg yess! @theporcelaincat1 I love this idea sm! I do do x reader stuff it's basically my whole blog lol. I hope I didn't make him ooc lmao I don't think i did but towards the end idk. Hope it satisfied you :)

The spot x reader

You sneaked up behind him and attempted to throw a punch but he threw a hole at you and you landed on rocks. You let out a groan and got back up on your feet. "Why try to ruin a kid's life who had nothing to do with this? Why not use your powers for good? I'm sure you make an excellent hero" you said as you charged towards him.

He let out a sound of amusement "Nothing to do with this?! He is the reason I turned out like this! My life is ruined because of him! Why should I help people who laugh and point at me!" He yelled. You empathized with him but what he was doing was wrong.

"Listen I understand how you-" "You don't understand!" He screeched cutting you off, the holes on his body spiraled and went crazy, he was pissed. You sighed and avoided more of his attacks "Your right I don't but...but what happened to you is not his fault he was trying to save innocent people and what your doing is wrong. I know your in pain and your life was taken from you and now people treat you like a monster and a freak. But taking it out on a kid who was just trying to do right- it's just not okay you need to understand that" you tried to reason with him.

You stop trying to attack him and just slowly put your hands up and walked towards him. His shoulder were tense and he was shaking, from anger probably. You inched closer to him "Listen you don't have to be a hero but you don't also have to be a villain. You can be more than this I know you can. You worked at Alchemax for fucks sake just stop this" you were only a couple inches away from him.

Your heart raced with every second that went by hoping that he would listen to reason. You looked at him in his face and put your hands to your sides and waited for him to respond. It seemed like he was thinking but still alert as his body never relaxed. The spots on him seemed to calm down as they weren't moving frantically.

He moved his head in your direction and in a broken voice he spoke "While living a normal life again does sound nice that would be wishful thinking I already caused to much damage. There is no turning back but, if we cross paths again I'll remember to spare you" he said and a hole opened up behind him and he walked into it.

"No!" You shouted and tried to catch him with your webs but the hole disappeared "Fuck!" You shouted and slammed your fist into your forehead. "Im so dead.." you mumble as you mess with your watch and go through a portal.

Hello! I heard you did x readers, would you be able to do some headcanons for a reader(spider person preferred but it’s optional!) that has vitiligo?

I don’t have it myself but I believe it deserves more representation!

Ngl I had a hard time coming up with hcs....

The spot/Johnathan reacts to spider!reader w/ vitiligo

He remarks how your kinda like him lol

If your insecure about it he will comfort you until you feel better

He is always complementing you and kissing everywhere along your body

He notices how your much more confident in your suit than when your not

He wishes he could take away your insecurities and make you love yourself but he knows it isn't possible so he will always be by you to make sure your okay

But if your are confident and love your vitiligo then he's happy

He's glad your confident and love yourself and wishes he could be like you

He's still getting used to looking like that so he's glad your comfortable

He thinks your gorgeous and if anyone says otherwise he will beat them up(not literally...maybe...)

When your out in the sun and the sun on your skin making you glow...omg...he melts and sinks to his knees

He is kissing the ground you walk on, you are such a god/goddess oh lord...

To the lovely anon who sent this idea I present to you...

Spider!reader flirting with Johnathan Ohnn

You were doing your usual routine. Check around the city to make sure no suspicious activity was going on and then stop by a gas station to get something to munch on.

When it seemed like almost all of the city was clear and crime was put to rest for the moment you stopped by the closest gas station. You walked inside and decide to grab a slice of pizza. Then you heard a bunch of racket coming from the back.

Your spider senses tingled like something bad was about to happen. You readied yourself and crept closer to the noise. When you looked down the aisle the sight made you stop in your tracks.

There was a man trying to get an ATM in a black hole. You snorted and a smile graced your lips. "Hey there handsome what are you trying to do?" You say and lean on the shelf. He immediately jumps and turns around. You can see what he looks like more clearly now. He is all white with black spots everywhere, there is a big black one in the center of his face. It seems to shrink and it hides behind the sunglasses he is wearing.

"So do you have a name love?" You say and glance at him up and down. He seems nervous by the way his hands fidget. He stammers before speaking "I am the Spot" he takes off the sunglasses and jacket revealing all of himself.

You bite your cheek to contain your laugh. You stay quiet for a while making him grow anxious. "Oh? And how'd you turn out like this hun? If it was a mad scientist please point me the way to where they are so I can thank them for making you look so cute" you stand up fully and walk closer.

"Y'know just cause you look like that doesn't mean you have to be a villain cutie. You can get a regular job I've seen it happen" The Spot stays quiet for a while and stared at you. It seems all the nicknames are still processing in his mind. He clears his throat and if he could blush he'd be red as blood.

He awkwardly rings his hands together and stands up fully. "I am the Spot and you will take me serious" he tries to make his voice a little deeper and louder but fails miserably. You let out a short laugh and cover you mouth with your hand. You place hand on your hip and tilt your head to the side a bit. "Ok ok handsome whatever you want.." you purr the last part

You then shoot webs at him but he quickly opens a hole and falls through. The webs land on the wall and you see him behind you. "Aww I missed" you turn around and shoot at him again but runs out and opens up another hole. You watching in amusement as he struggles.

You sling around and watch ashe tires to escape but you keep catching up. "You need some help love? Y'know not to brag but I haven't had any complaints" He stutters and falls through the black hole and lands on a rooftop. You sling over and land on top right next to him. He struggles to get up and you web his hands and legs down.

"You look so much better like this all helpless and pathetic really gets someone going" you lightly thrust your hips "But I won't do anything you don't want of course" you look down at his still form. "You babe?" You ask and he seems to be speechless. "Well Ill leave you here for the authorities to get. Call me if you need some stress relief" you wink and jump off the roof and continue doing your regular duties. Leaving poor Jonathan flustered and confused and a little horny.

— nsfw 🤍🕳️🕸️

the spot fucking you to prove he’s still got it even when he looks like a dalmatian that went to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone. he doesn’t stop until both of you are too tired to go on and when he pulls out, he whimpers at the sight of his cum leaking out of you like the pathetic loser he is :)

i am going to hell, but who doesn’t wanna fuck the irradiated cow 🫶

⊙ THE SPOT BF HC’s ⊙

➟ The Spot / Jonathan Ohnn X GN!Reader 🕳️

➟ NSFW / SFW ( he has such raw sex appeal )

➟ TW : Insecurities, Workplace Abuse, Body Image, SEX, & Murder :)

————————————————————————

⊙ PRE-COLLIDER

— Jonathan is PAINFULLY average.

— Sure his colleagues like him and he has a good standing with his superiors, But he just doesn’t have a lot going for him.

— Which is why he wonders why an angel like you loves him so much.

— He enjoys the domesticity of y’all’s relationship when he isn’t stuck at the lab or doing scientific research. Like make the man a nice home cooked meal and take a shower with him, it makes him happy beyond belief.

— He has quips. Jonathan just loves making you laugh and he’s actually pretty good at laughing at himself whenever he does something stupid. He knows you won’t judge him.

— Kind of obsessed? Besides work, you are all he thinks about and focuses on. He has plans for the future of your relationship ( MARRIAGE ).

— He’s the type of person to keep a picture of you on his desk.

— Adding onto the obsessed part, he can be possessive. I feel like that’s a given with him.

— Jonathan is insecure. He knows that there are a lot of more attractive, cooler people out there and he worries that he’ll fuck up one day and you’ll leave him. Please comfort him.

— Arguments are few and far between. He’s good at resolving whatever issues that may come up with good ol’ communication.

— He keeps you as far away from his work life as possible. He NEVER EVER wants you to get caught up in the messes that are his projects and he knows just how dangerous working with physics is. Plus Wilson Fisk might use you as leverage to get Jonathan to do what he wants.

— sex time boys :)

— You wanna have sex .. WITH HIM!? That’s kind of his instant reaction though he isn’t opposed.

— I don’t think he’s a virgin, But he’s not the most experienced. He might’ve had a few partners in college though that’s about it. I’m sure he had a few admirers at Alchemax though he was far too busy with working to care plus he had you.

— I don’t think he has a preference for who is dominant and submissive. If you want to edge him until he cries that’s cool! But he’s also chill with taking the lead and fucking you into submission.

— This man is PACKIN’. You can disagree with me all you want, But it’s always the dorky ones that have the most dick. He probably thought that he wasn’t big since he’s since all of these videos talking about how “ 6 inches isn’t big enough yadi yada “. So he was incredibly nervous taking his pants off the first time and he just sorta held his breath, waiting for a reaction of disappointment. He ended up being pleasantly surprised in the end of and was more than happy to shove his dick down your throat.

— His dick is skinnier than it is thick. Poor dude has an INCREDIBLY sensitive head and a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft.

— Prefers positions where he can see your face. He thinks eyes are the windows to the soul and being able to focus on your expressions makes sex 100X more enjoyable.

— SIT ON THIS MANS FACE. Force him to take all of you inside his mouth and then ride his nose until you’re seeing stars.

— Jonathan let’s out the pathetic noises. He’ll whine, whimper, moan, etc.

————————————————————————

⊙ POST-COLLIDER

— honey, you’ve got a big storm comin’

— He becomes almost 1,000X more clingy and loving.

— He’s absolutely horrified at what happened to him and feels like he’s a burden to you now. He can’t even kiss you for god’s sake!

— Spot will get steal gifts for you in an effort to make up for having to date an idiot like him. He’s much more withdrawn and silent though he’s still prone to using humor as a coping skill.

— Once he realizes that you aren’t going to leave him is probably when he resorts to crime. He would never leave you as the main breadwinner no matter how much you can provide for y’all and will do whatever he can to make sure you are well cared for.

— He’ll never allow you to go out with him when he’s committing crimes. If you were to get hurt or worse ( ahem die ) he would probably never forgive himself.

— You are now his world and he must protect his world at all cost.

— He’s become even more obsessed with your face now that he doesn’t have a proper one. Kissing is a little awkward, But he still appreciates that you’re willing to be affectionate with him.

— You can be curious about his spots, But don’t expect him to let you go through one. It’s already difficult enough for him to control them and he doesn’t want to send you to a whole other universe.

— He has become much more confident as The Spot. He’ll make big risky choices and no longer wants to be a doormat. Arguments are still uncommon though he isn’t afraid to defend the crimes he commits because at the end of the day it’s all for you.

— Being a interdimensional criminal isn’t the most ideal job, But it all comes back to his love for you and don’t ever forget that.

— Has told you to “ Come check out his hole “ a couple of times whenever he figures out his powers, he is definitely aware of how dirty he makes it sound.

— time to get down and dirty in Jonathan’s holes :)

— For starters, he didn’t LOSE his dick it’s just kind of chilling in a void pocket. Go read Spotless on AO3, The Spot actually has a dick in that fic in a way that makes sense.

— He’s grateful you still want to be intimate with him. He can be a little awkward sometimes though he makes up for it.

— Becoming a supervillain has made this man an absolutely menace in bed. He’ll overstimulate and edge you to make sure you remember he isn’t just some lowlife scientist anymore.

— Jonathan’s rougher and manhandles you, forcing you into whatever position he wants.

— It’s a little silly if you imagine it with his regular voice ngl, BUT THE MEAN VOICE? oh my god.

— Repeats phrases like “ mine “ whenever he fucks you and let’s out this raspy little laugh whenever you tell him it’s too much.

— It’s a little pointless for you to pleasure him now so he solely focuses on you. Plus it’s a way for him to blow off steam after a fight with Miles.

— Could you have sex with one of his holes? Does he even feel pleasure anymore? I have many questions that I will ignore for the sake of fanfiction.

— Imagine getting choked by this dude?

— This motherfucker definitely still whimpers though as The Spot and you can’t tell me otherwise.

I’ve decided to start writing!

Hi I’m Riley or Rye I go by they/them (for a more in depth introduction go to the carrd linked in my bio)

-keep in mind I will only write male/non binary readers. Fem aligned folks, I got nothin against ya but go read something else-

I will write:

•Hazbin hotel

•Helluva boss

•Beetlejuice (movie, broadway, or series)

•ASTV

•The avengers and Deadpool

•forth wing

•DBH

•crave series

•inside job

•poly ships

i WILL NOT write:

•Smut(I will write suggestive material and make-out stuff naturally since my current hyper fixation is angel dust but I am, in fact, a teenager.)

•I will only write s/h or s/a in a negative context

•Slow burn, I’m too impatient

•Valentino

•incest

Characters I write for: