The call came in just as the sun dipped beneath the edge of Longwood City's skyline. An emergency on the highway bridge—eighteen men, armed and aggressive, attacking random bypassers and looting them for anything that looked expensive.
"0siris," I called calmly, already mid-swing above traffic, "what's the situation?"
"Eighteen hostiles confirmed. Five hostages on site—two are children," the AI replied in its smooth, synthetic tone. "Would you like to suit up?"
"Obviously," I smirked.
Nanotech swept across my body like a second skin, the familiar shimmer settling into the sharp, dark contours of my Spider-Luna suit. My weapons—crafted by the only person I trust—clicked into place, resting in dormant nanotech form along my limbs. A dagger, a scythe, hidden in the shimmer of the tech until I needed them. She built everything: 0siris, the suit, the weapons. The one person who knew who I really was. My mentor. My... mother, even if not by blood.
As I swung through the city, I caught movement on a rooftop.
Figures.
Not threats, not civilians—something... different. They watched as I passed, vanishing behind a building before they could get a good look. I smiled beneath my mask.
Let them wonder.
When I reached the bridge, a cop was quick to brief me.
"They've blocked us off completely," he said. "Five hostages, two kids. They're using them to keep us at bay."
I nodded once, fast. "I have a plan. Trust me."
And then I swung away, looking—for all the world—to be abandoning the scene.
-*-
An hour later, people either crowded their screens or watched from afar as a sleek, flashy car rolled onto the bridge, bass booming so hard the ground seemed to hum.
The driver—a random guy I paid to help—looked hilariously out of place. Oblivious. Or so he pretended to be.
The armed men flagged him down, yelling at him to get out. He raised his hands slowly, pretending to panic, stepping from the car just as one of the men went for his wallet.
Then something tapped that man's shoulder.
A pause. A blink.
WHAM.
He hit the ground so fast, the other men didn't react in time.
"Slap of b*tches," I muttered, watching him groan. "Reserved for certified assholes."
The others lunged. I ducked. One of them tumbled over me, landing with a wheeze. I used his momentum to flip backward, landing a clean kick into another guy's chest. Webs flew—thwip—pinning two to a car bumper.
From the rooftops, eyes watched me again.
"Pretty strong," Jessica murmured. "But more are coming. Miguel, you sure she doesn't need backup?"
"Just watch," Miguel replied, eyes narrowed. "She can handle it."
But his thoughts were tangled. A scent lingered in the air—warm and disorienting. Vanilla, caramel, cinnamon—shifting and blending like a memory you couldn't hold onto. It clouded the mind, made you sleepy, distracted.
A trick. A defense. A signature. Hers.
Back on the bridge, I finished the fight, releasing the hostages. Reporters swarmed in, but I brushed them off with a brief rundown. Said I hired the guy in the car as bait. He deserved the credit too.
Then a small voice called out, soft and hesitant.
"Spider-Luna?"
I turned to see a girl, no older than eight, clinging to her mother.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"She wants to thank you," her mother said gently.
I crouched, lowering to the child's level.
"Thank you for saving me," the little girl whispered, shifting shyly side to side.
"You're welcome. Are you missing something?"
"She lost her plushie on the bridge," her mom added, looking apologetic.
"Wait here."
A moment later, I was in the air again, 0siris scanning the bridge for anything toy-like. Dozens of blips lit up, but one wasn't in a car.
A plush. Of me.
I laughed softly. "Well, that's adorable."
I swooped back down and handed it to her. The little girl clutched it tight.
"Is this it?"
She nodded so hard I thought she might topple over. Her mother gave me a quiet, grateful smile.
"You gonna be okay now?" I asked the girl gently.
Another firm nod.
"Good."
I turned to swing away—and stopped.
A group stood before me, half in shadow, half in streetlight glow. Familiar suits beneath casual clothes. Watching. Waiting.
"Don't leave yet," the tallest one said. Deep voice. Sharp jaw. Eyes that studied everything. Miguel.
"We need your help," one said.
"Not help," corrected another. "We want her on the team."
Team?
My instincts screamed no, but something else pulled at me. Curiosity, maybe. Or fate.
"Come with us. We'll explain," Miguel said.
After a long pause, I nodded.
We walked through the alley, and when the portal opened—an octagonal pulse of light—I stared.
Whoa.
"What is this place?"
I stepped through the portal.
And everything changed.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
YOU ARE READING
her scent -+- miguel ohara -+- ~~~~Complete
Fanfictionher scent he picked it up somewhere and now it seems like he can't get rid of it miguel o'hara x oc I apologize in advance for any spelling errors.
