Y/N 🍪

_

STUPID COOKIES.

I may have almost blown up my kitchen a few minutes ago, but it's fine, because I didn't. Just nearly. The kitchen towels were slightly toasted at the ends, but in my defense, I accidentally added too much baking soda and a tiny volcano erupted in the oven—which started catching on fire, leading to lots of screaming, leading to a giant fire-extinguisher battle to the death.

I won.

The fire died. Thankfully.

My Foster-Mom slept through the whole thing, which was a relief, but I had to deal with Luka sticking his head out of his room and shaming me for being loud. I threw a spatula at him.

Now I'm back in the quiet of my room, trying to rub flour off my face with a washcloth. It's not coming off, and I'm tired, and this day is getting worse every second—

"Hello there."

"WHAT THE HELL?"

I wasn't taking any chances, because the sound of a random voice in your room is never a good sign. It could be a creep, a demon, a creepy demon, or a sleepwalking Luka. All of those were dangerous, so I grabbed a biology textbook from my desk, spinning around and whipping it at the intruder. It whizzed across the room, papers flying everywhere, aimed straight at the figure across from me.

They caught it in their hand.

And there, crouched in my windowsill, sat Spider-Man.

"You're supposed to say General Kenobi," he said matter-of-factly, "I'm guessing you're not a Star Wars fan?"

There were a million things running through my mind, and here are some of them: One, I'm wearing pajamas, two, I've got flour on my face, and three, I don't remember ever giving Spider-Man my address. Maybe I did when we first met, but I'm a little too alarmed to worry about specific details.

"Star Wars is great," I quipped, narrowing my eyes, "but I didn't have much time to think about General Kenobi when I thought someone broke into my house."

The super-hero laughed. "Sorry about that."

"What do you want?"

"To talk."

Don't get me wrong, I know he's my 'soulmate' and everything, but I really don't like him. First, he friendzoned me. Second, he broke into my house like a creep. Third, I hate spiders, and he's one of them, so I don't understand why I'm his soulmate in the first place.

When I didn't respond, he scratched the top of his mask sheepishly.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

I frowned. "No."

"Fair."

I expected him to leave, so I turned back to my mirror, resuming my attempts to scratch off the flour that had somehow stuck on. It was latched onto my skin, and I wondered if something had reacted with the cookie ingredients to make it like this.

I realized Spidey hadn't left when he hopped out from the window, landing smoothly into my room, and pacing across the floor towards me. I gave him a sour look, and he held up his hands.

"I'll leave, I promise," he chuckled, "just let me help you."

I glared. "Shouldn't you be saving the neighborhood?"

"Saving my soulmate from flour poisoning sounds more important," he laughed.

I let his words run over in my mind with an uneasiness in my stomach. I didn't know him—he was still a stranger to me—and he tossed around his words like an irresponsible teenager. I didn't doubt it if he was one.

"Can you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Friendzoning me, and then calling me your soulmate the next minute," I sighed, setting down the towel, "look, I respect your choice, and I understand your 'hero-obligations' ruin things, but I'd appreciate if you chose a narrative and stuck with it."

There was a momentary pause, where we both looked at each other, eyes blinking. His suit was able to capture his blinks with the eye coer, which was kinda cool. Nevertheless, the moment of silence was broken by a mutual chuckle.

"I'm sorry," I laughed weakly, "I didn't mean to make a pun."

He waved his hand. "It was cute."

"I guess."

I normally hated awkward conversations, but this one was a different breed. In Luka-Lingo, he would have called it 'build-different', but it meant the same thing. Two humans who don't know how to react to each other was a recipe for disaster, but what made it weird was that we knew we were supposed to interact.

It was fate.

So, this awkward behavior was part of the reason we were tied together, in a sense. I hated the thought of that, because I always imagined my soulmate and I being the same person. Spider-Man wasn't like me at all.

"Here," he said, reaching over and picking up the towel, "turn your head."

I blinked, doing as he said hesitantly.

"Hey Karen, can you analyze this please?"

"Who's Karen?" I asked.

He didn't say anything, zoning out into space. A few moments later, he seemed to have come to a conclusion, because he scampered out of my room and down the hallway. Ugh, that was a problem.

Sighing into my hand, I trailed after him, double checking to make sure my foster-mom and Luka's door was closed. I don't think I'd be able to explain why Spider-Man was intruding into our apartment.

I found the red and blue hero in the kitchen, where he was digging through the drawers and shuffling through the cabinets. Wooden doors were shutting, pots and pans were clinking, and the general noise was getting to be a bit too loud.

"Can you keep it down?" I asked from the doorway, "with whatever you're trying to do?"

Spidey snapped his head up. "Sorry!"

"It's fine."

"I found the orange, anyways," he explained, shutting the fridge door, "can you come here again?"

Nodding my head, I paced across the kitchen tiles until I was standing right in front of him. He was furiously peeling the fruit, ripping off a large piece of the peel and cupping his other hand around my chin so he could tilt it to the side.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He started to rub my face with the peel. "Helping you."

"With an orange peel?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "citrus is really good with getting things to un-stick."

I made a small noise of understanding, letting him rub the rest of the flour off of my face. There was so much I didn't know about him, and it was interesting how he knew that piece of information. I never took him for someone who liked science.

"So, in theory," I questioned, "if I threw a bunch of citrus at you, would you stop sticking to walls?"

He laughed at that. "That's not how it works."

"Has someone ever tried it?"

"No, but I hope they don't," he said, tossing the peel into the trash. At my silence, he turned to look at me, mechanical eyes blinking. I gave him a smirk. He widened his eyes. "No, [y/n], don't even think about it."

I took a step forward. "A good scientist always tests their experiments."

"Touch the oranges, and I'll make a run for it."

"I'll still throw them at you."

"You're evil."

"I'm your soulmate," I grinned, reaching for the fruit, "so fate has all been leading up to this moment, Spidey."

As soon as I snatched it up into my hand, I saw him spin on his heels, bolting back towards my room with super-speed (literally). I chased after him, fruit clutched tightly in my hands. Down the hallway and around the corner I went, but I failed to realize the boy had more nefarious plans.

As soon as I took one step through the doorway, I realized he had been hiding against the wall, waiting for me to walk into his trap. Snatching the orange out of my hand, he grabbed my waist with his other, spinning me around and walking me back out the door.

"Nice try," he said, but I could sense him smirking.

I smiled. "You suck."

He laughed, letting go of me, and flipping the fruit in his hand. Giving me a nod, he crossed my room, slipping underneath the window and balancing on the sill. He turned his head, holding up the orange.

"I think I'll keep this," he said.

And he left.