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cherryredstars · 7 months

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OMG I SAW YOUR REQUEST IS OPEN AND OMG I WANTED TO ASK IF YOU CAN MAKE AN demon!MIGUEL x but Innocent/cute/ werid/quirkFmAngel! Reader (like the demon CAN be also called the spider demon that all work under Miguel eyes😝💅😩)

Reader is a angel that believes that there goodness in any creature that mean Miguel.yea but she doesnt believed in some angel like her ex- boyfriend,reader finally caught her boyfriend cheating while hanging out with the group while eating there ice cream or looking in the heaven village or city idk ??😣😭 ( miles, gwen, and pav and his girlfriend )which when Gwen and hobie and miles was shocked and gasp loudly at something that pulled reader attention and when reader saw it, reader came running away in tear at the sight of it.

and ran away far away from it ,While pav girlfriend with hobie beating his as while gwen is telling hobie that " ENOUGH HOBBIE " while pav is trying to stop his girlfriend from cheering on hobie from SCREAMING at reader ex- boyfriend for making reader spend ALL her time with such a USELESS F ING ANGEL WHO doesnt work FOR SH%T

meanwhile Miguel, is some were in heaven and hell which is what I called is the void or the pocket of both lands and that where Miguel is doing his business(while wearing his spider logo LIKE imagine him wearing an tight suit with some sort of amor ) killing angel and entity\antomty (I forgot the name💀) in his way with Layla of course but only telling him how many are there but that where reader came running away and fall into and also hitting a large rock and managed to hurt one of her wings,badly, which cause her to stare around for any help or tried to see if she know what is this place she flew into, And Miguel was done doing assignments (ahem- killing) amd then see her in such a state that make his heart beat again,

Meanwhile reader is crying not of fear, but she not in fear of the man in front of him.. She finding it sexist (ok I want to make reader weird,or quirky💀😭) ok it not her problem OR FAULT OK it was his aura, big BOTTY OF A ASS that reader probably think she has seen in her life form a boy ✊😝 and his horns,

reader realized she still have tear in her eyes and started wipes her face and getting up from the floor but then the pain of her wings finally came. (And Layla being Layla teleport to Miguel to see if he done with work and see reader on the floor with a broken wing with blood and Layla making an deal or some thing idk to convince him to let her live while saying in a language Spanish but that a ancient towards reader)

NFSW PART THAT J COMPLETED SUCK AT

Let imagine Miguel heat or is just hella intoxicated with a sex drug from layla putting there (putting or idk someone LIKE PETER B ) and left it on his favorite desk( that he like to slam on A LOT JUST FROM THE RETARD THAT HE HAS TO DEAL with work💀 ✊ men got his on TABLET FOR THAT lol) and it crash on the floor and broke and some gas that Miguel was intoxication from of it and went to his own place while reader was petting an demonic cat in his house

Here is a some plot idea for the NFSw part

(Also THIS IDEA WAS INSPIRED BY MANY WEEBTOON STORY AND I WANTED TO mush ALL THESE IDEA INTO ONE SO pls 😭 if I suck AT EXPLAINING THE PART and I wanted to say this but I feel like Miguel be the grump bear person character or big puffy cat person like he wouldnt like anyone touch his horn but when reader ask he let her touch his horn with a pout sound as he lean down 🗣😭✊ also you can make this a fluff/smut any kink will do honestly! THANK YOU bye ❤

Hope you have a great day and time ! (Sorry if this made be a long request but I dont see many people making a demon Miguel like this one and reader as well so yea and I really wanted to people be inspired by this one !!!😇😌🗣

Pairing: Demon!Miguel O’Hara x Angel!fem reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Virgin!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Cheated on Reader, Slight Corruption Kink, Slight Fingering, Oral Sex, Praise, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Blood

Summary: Even the devil has a soft spot.

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

It had been a gloomy day.

You had never expected to find your sweet, attentive boyfriend sucking faces with someone else. It had ruffled your delicate feathers and for your wings to curve in with despair. Your friends had tried to pull you away from the scene, the dejection clear on your face as you stared longingly at the man you had given your golden heart to. Their reassuring words floated past you, mind preoccupied on why this could have happened to you. Was it something you did? Were you not enough? Were you missing something?

Later into that day, after numbly reassuring your friends you were alright, you had wandered aimlessly across the angelic city. You were so lost in thought that you had not realized you had taken too many turns out of the city, finding yourself in the Void. So unused to the dark, unfamiliar land, you had stumbled your way around, catching your wings on things you couldn’t see clearly until your body was sore and you had wilted to the ground in a hopeless mess. You were unsure of how long you had laid there, a withering mess of innocent pain before he had sniffed you out.

From his account of events, he had just been back from one of his sessions of…repentance as he calls it. Even though his suit and dulled armor was splattered with blood, he knew the lingering scent in the air was fresh, more innocent than the kind he had spilt. He had followed the sweet fragrance, finding your helpless form crowded to the ground. You had looked up at him with such shiny eyes, a puffed pout on your lips. Your appearance alone was angelic, his hand itching to reach out and taint your delicate skin. He swore a glowing aura shielded your body, setting you apart from the gloominess of the Void. If not the scent of your blood, the shininess of your glow would attract dark things like him to you.

You had shrunk back in response to the strong presence he held, not realizing tears had flowed down your face until he commanded you to wipe them away. When he had told you to follow him, you had weakly pushed yourself up, using the sound of shifting armor as your guide through the dark. He had taken you back to the modest cabin, cold and nearly as empty as the world outside. He had left you by yourself, your wings fluttering nervously as you tried to see more than blurred darkness. When he had lit a dim light, you had instantly flocked towards it while he kept his distance. You had crowded around the greenish-yellow flame like a moth, staring at it as if it was as angelic as you were.

His rough hand was firm around your shoulder blade, pushing you into a seat near the flame. He stood behind you, as if using you to shield him from the light as he bandaged the fracture in your wing quietly. You had sat still, watching the flame dance on the candle wick. The light illuminated your face in a ghastly light, creating intense shadows against the features of your face. When he had pulled away, you turned to look for him, only to be met with pure black. You reached your hand out tentatively, pulling it back when you had met the cold metal of his armor. HIs own hand reached out to you, centimeters away from your face so you could see it.

Your delicate fingers brushed over the calluses on his hand and in a gravelly voice he had asked you, how pretty, innocent you, found yourself an injured bird in such a dark place. With his adapted eyes, he had seen the darkening of your cheeks and the wounded look in your eyes. You had looked away, a half-hearted excuse of getting lost leaving your plush lips before asking him for his name.

He answers begrudgingly, a low grumble that you have to strain your ears to catch. You find it only fair to tell him yours in return, and Miguel lets the word circulate into his head until it's fully memorized. The name suits a gentle creature like you he thinks, a soft symphony of syllables that are yours to own. It sounds like church bells and birds chirping, something that's shunned in the Void. The natural greed that fuels his body wants to lock you up and keep you for himself.

Instead, he shoves the lantern into your hands, a silent demand to follow him as he walks towards the cabin’s entrance again. You two walk through the barren land, your small form following him as you stare at the more clearly defined shapes of the land. When you begin to slow or stray too far, he lets out a slow rumbling noise from his chest that draws you back to him. He doesn’t seem particularly annoyed when he does it, but he isn’t exactly happy about it either.

You follow him until he stops, your distracted mind almost causing you to crash into him. You peak out from behind him quizzically, holding your lantern up only to find it useless. Even though Migurl stopped a good distance away, the light of the holy city is visible. A delighted smile makes its way onto your face as you look up at him, a silence thanks for his kindness. He doesn't look visibly affected, but his unmoving heart stutters in a single kick.

You wordlessly walk out from behind him, taking a few steps forward before stopping and running back. His eyebrow raises as you stop right in front of him,a shy smile on your face as you take his hand and wrap it around the lantern’s handle with a soft thank you. You had given his hand a lingering squeeze before turning away from him and walked towards home. You had turned once after crossing out of the Void, eyes searching for a figure and a green glow, but both seemed to have disappeared into the darkness.

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Two weeks later, you were surprised to see that green glow in the distance. Based on the height of it, you knew it had to be Miguel. You took a hesitant step into the Void, then another and another until you were getting closer and closer to the light. You had stopped five feet away, close enough for the light to be an arm away, but far enough that you couldn’t see the face you’ve yet to see. It was silent for a long moment before that familiar rumble vibrated in the air. The softest of smiles came over your face as you walked closer, taking the lantern from him when he offered it to you. You lifted your arm up, letting the light travel up his form until you were looking into deep red eyes.

A stifled gasp had left you, but it held more fascination than fear. Your eyes had drunk in his features, eyes mostly trained between his glowing orbs and the twisted points that spiraled from his soft hair. He had studied you too, eyes flashing at the delicate bow of your lips and the twinkling shine in your eyes. When you lowered the light, you kept your eyes trained to the place of his own eyes as you whispered a hello. He grunted back in response and turned to make way back to the cabin. You never hesitated to follow him back.

It was in that very cabin that you spent most of your time together. Where the two of you bonded. You sat and talked, Miguel listening as he cleaned his armor or prepared you desserts made from sweet berries and cream that he bought from travelers in anticipation for your frequent visits. The first few visits acted as check ups, Miguel making sure your wing mended and had full capability. Those visits were quick and silent, but they made you anxious for the next one.

Sometimes, after being too cramped in his cabin, you would ask Miguel to show you around the Void. He always grumbled about it, muttering how the Void was, well, void of anything besides plain terrain and the occasional hut or trading stand. But he had found that there was little he could deny you, something in his body against the idea of rejecting something so bright and lively. He had discovered this trait during an earlier visit where you had asked him in the sweetest tone he had ever heard if you could touch his horns. The disapproval was on the tip of his forked tongue, but seeing the way you had blinked so hopefully up at him only resulted in the bowing of his head as your gentle hands traced the grooves of the foreign keratin.

On special days, the days where MIguel had no repentance to take care of, he would let you decorate his horns and hair with beads and accessories you had brought over and never took home. He would hold the lantern up for you so you could focus on your work, and he told you in a gruff voice about the more tamer quests he had been on. But those stories were rare and far between, Miguel finding someone as pure as yourself in no need to know about blood and death as he’s known them. But, they were fun to hear even with their heavy censorship and you absorbed every word like gospel. Honestly, you spend more time focusing on the sound of his voice rather than his words. You loved the deep calmness to his speech, wishing you had a way to record it so you could play it over and over in the hours you spent away from him.

On the really bad days, the days where Miguel had come to fetch you at the border of the Void and the holy city in more blood than usual, he would take you back to the cabin in silence and wash up before pulling you to his sofa and cradling your innocent form to his chest. The both of you would be bathed in darkness, the lantern a far away glow on the dining table as he tried to absorb your good. He would hold your head gently, breathing in your sweet scent as he played with the ends of your hair or flattened the feathers of your wings. It helped calm him down, feeling the slight pleased purr vibrate against his chest as you beamed under his attentive care. He would rumble his chest slowly in response, showing his own content. Those days you knew you had to distract his mind, letting his mind fill with nothing but the events of your day or any days you were apart. When you ran out of events, you started telling him your own thoughts. Recalling a question you have about the universe, a flower you saw on your way to the Void’s edge, how you think maybe the next time you visit you’ll bring Miguel a nice piece of decoration to hang up so his cabin doesn’t look so sad.

But no matter the type of day, no matter how many times you had visited him, he always walked you back to the edge of the Void at the same exact time. It was like clock work. It didn’t matter if you didn’t finish your story, it didn’t matter if you weren’t done removing the decorations from his hair, it didn’t matter if he hadn’t fully calmed down yet. When a small chime ran through his house, he would drop whatever he was doing, standing to give you your lantern before walking you out of his cabin. You had asked him about it a singular time, but he had ignored it. You waited, debated if you should ask again in case he didn’t hear you, but then that time happened and you dropped it. You had stayed curious about it, but you had come to terms with the fact that you’d possibly never know.

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You don’t know what compelled you to come so late. It was far past the time you would usually come, proven by the fact no lantern glow greeted you at the edge of the Void. But something in you urged you to go, your feet basically dragging you through the darkness. Luckily, the frequency of your visits made you familiar with the path to Miguel’s cabin, hand stretched out until it hit the flat wood of a door. It only took you a few pats to find the doorknob, turning it and sliding it open.

Instantly, a dark musk filled your senses. It makes your head dizzy and you grip tighter onto the knob to steady yourself. When you think you're stable enough to walk, you take a step forward only to almost trip on an overturned chair. A spike of alarm rings in your head and you can’t help the urgency powering your voice as you call Miguel’s name. In the darkness, there is a faint noise of shuffling before you yelp out in surprise. Large hands grab you and flip you on the couch, your hands shoved above your heads as the sound of deep breathing echoes in your ear. Your body instantly melts into the fabric at the sound of Miguel’s voice asking you what you’re doing here.

You try to shift your hands, but Miguel tightens his hold on them. You huff out a pout but stop struggling as you ask him if he’s okay. He doesn’t reply, burying his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling deep. His breath tickles around your neck and you can’t help the soft squirms your body makes.

“Smells s’good,” Miguel mumbles against your skin, his hips pinning yours down so you can’t try to escape. You try to stifle the gasp that builds in your throat at something hard pressing into you. When Miguel’s wet tongue glides up the length of your neck, a soft noise leaves you parted lips. Your hips buck up to push him off, but he only grounds and grounds his hips into you.

Another sound leaves you, slightly louder than before as you feel something rush into your panties. The feeling of the wetness is uncomfortable and you try to shift to relieve it. Miguel’s hands find your waist and grip hard, holding you still as you pull away from your neck. His eyes are glowing so brightly that you can see the red tint in the darkness. “It’s witching hour, y'know.

Can’t be here, ángel.”

Despite the gruffness of his appearance, the words are sweet and full of concern. If you could, you would have reached your hand up to cup his face. He looks and sounds pained. You don’t know why, but you want to help. “Are you okay, Miggy? You don’t sound so good, is there anything I can help you with?”

The honey dripping from your voice makes him grind his hips against you again. You just sound so sweet. His perfect little angel was so worried about him. Wanted to be helpful to him. So sweet and pure and innocent. So goddamn tempting. And, like he said before, he can never deny you. He can’t deny you. Who denies help from an angel anyways? Definitely not him. Definitely not when you can help.

His hand reaches down and cups under your pretty white tunic, a gasp leaving you when he cups your clothed sex and the heel of his palm presses the wetness against your skin. A deep moan leaves Miguel at the dampness, his hand rubbing it eagerly. “Yeah, you can.”

Before you can ask him what it is he needs help with, you feel too long fingers slip under your panties. Your body instantly tenses as Miguel teases them along your entrance, more slick rushing from you to coat his fingers. He tries to push them in, absolute surprise coursing through him when your walls don’t instantly give to take them at the same time. He tries to ease the tips of them, but still gets nothing. It frustrates him. You’re so wet, he can see you glistening before him. Fuck, you hips are even pressing back into his hand. So why can’t you take his fingers?

Then, it hits him. His sweet little angel is a virgin.

He grows impossibly harder at the thought. You really are pure. His tiny little angel, untouched and pure. All for his taking. His eyes trail up your body, looking into your confused face. Poor thing doesn’t even understand what’s happening. But, it’s okay. Miguel, he isn’t mean. He may be a demon but he isn’t mean. He’ll take care of you.

“Need you to spread your legs f’me, doll. Spread your legs and relax.”

You obey so beautifully. You don’t question or hesitate. You only do, only please. Your legs spread for him and he watches the way your tunic bunches around your waist. The sight of your drenched cunt is downright heavenly and he can’t help but lick his lips. His hands glide up your legs until he’s helping you keep your legs open. Gently, he bends down and places them over his shoulder until he’s face to face with your practically see-through panties. He licks a long strip up them, tongue swirling around your poked bud. Your lips instantly buck up in response and your hands find his horns for support.

He chuckles at you, studying you as he pushes your panties to the side again. He licks another strip up you, your slick collecting on his taste buds. You taste as sweet as you smell and it’s driving him wild. The grip on you tightens as he prods at your entrance. His tongue is wet and warm and causes you to feel things you didn’t even know were possible. Your hips lift in response, and you cry out when Miguel slips his tongue into you.

The buckling of your hips is instinctive as his tongue dives in and out of you, occasionally playing with your clit. Your eyes are threatening to roll back as your hands tighten around Miguel’s horns to aid your movements. “M-miguel…what are you..?”

Miguel’s own eyes roll back at your clueless question. You don’t even understand what’s going on, but here you are desperately trying to ride his face like a fucking succubus because you feel that good. A deep groan vibrates against you as he eats you out more desperately, drinking up everything you’re spilling out. In response, you keep letting out the prettiest of noises. If this is what it's like to go to church, Miguel just might consider being stricken down for the chance to hear your moans.

Your legs begin to shake, trying to fight Miguel’s strong hold. Your body quivers and twists, head thrown back as you try to stop whatever it is building inside of you. “Miguel…stop, wait!”

Your begs and pleads are absolute music to him, He can feel the clenching of your walls, and he tries to ease a finger into you to hold them apart. His fingers slip in easier than before, but it still has resistance. But the moment he’s knuckle deep and curls, you’re crying out as you finish. Miguel’s eyes snap up to you, watching drunkenly as you twitch. He slurps everything up, moaning into you as he sucks your lips. He pulls away with a pop, placing a gentle kiss onto your sensitive clit as you try to breathe. Your chest rises and falls, sweat making your tunics stick to your body and become transparent in some places. You’re nipples peek through the fabric, and Miguel sucks them until they’re clearly seen under the garment.

He finally reaches up to your face, kissing your cheek to call you back to him. Your eyes are hazy as you turn to look at him, a small film of satisfaction coating them. The sight makes Miguel smile, nuzzling his nose against your skin to breathe in the lingering scent of sex and sweat on you. You smell absolutely divine and he can’t help but palace a slow kiss to your lips. Your own lips are clumsy, not really knowing what you’re doing. You just follow Miguel’s example and whatever your brain is telling you is right. But Miguel seems to be enjoying it, pressing his lips harder against you and humming.

You’re the first to pull away, a gasp ripping from you as you feel his finger slide back into you. He wiggles it around, stretching your walls out in preparation for something bigger. You whine against his lips. Hips shifting when he pulls it out of you. But soon you feel the warmth of something larger poking at your opening. Your eyes meet Miguel’s glowing ones, a silent question in your eyes.

Miguel presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye as he begins to push in. His hand tilts your head to the side, his face looking down at you as your own twists in discomfort. “This is gonna hurt for a second, sweet angel.”

Before you can ask what he means, his hips snap forward. A scream begins to leave your throat, but it dies once Miguel surges towards your neck and bites down. The pinch of something painful hits you before it all dies down into a euphoric numbness. A soft moan leaves you as Miguel slowly thrusts in and out. He pulls away from your neck, giving it a quick lick and kiss before taking your arms to wrap them around his neck loosely. He kisses your cheek again, moaning at the coppery smell of blood that begins to feel the air as he stretches your hymen.

“That’s it. So fucking good for me, good girl.”

Even in your dazed state, your body glows under his praise. A slow hum leaves you, and you arch your back into him. Miguel’s hand slips to your lower back, pressing your skin into his body and he begins to speed up his thrusts. Each snap of his hips brings shockwaves of pleasure through you, and it isn’t long before you feel the familiar build up in your body again. Miguel groans as your walls tighten around his cock, teeth grinding together as he pushes through your tight walls. With another sharp thrust, you're moaning out again as you release.

Miguel continues to work you through it, working at your clit to make it last longer. You whimper in appreciation, body pressing up into his fingers for more. He chuckles at the involuntary movement, working you even after your body jolts from oversensitivity. His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop until he feels his own pleasure beginning to form its peak. WIth a few sharp thrusts and you moaning his name, he spills his hot seed into you. The feel of it filling you makes you come again, hips lifting and pressing into his pelvis to keep it all into you.

Miguel rubs soft circles into the skin of your hips to help you calm down, pressing kisses to your shoulders and muttering praise. He pulls out slowly, his cock an ombre of pink to creamy white cum as the same mix drips from you. His fingers fuck it back into you absentmindedly, only stopping when you cry out softly. He gives you time to rest, leaving to get a soft cloth to wipe you down.

Midway through his cleaning, you hand lands to his arm. He looks up at you questionably, watching the dazed look beginning to leave your eyes. But he can’t help the wide smile that forms on his face as you ask: “Again?”

Teehee

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #cherry's requests🍒#spiderman 2099 x you #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #atsv smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader

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bibiwrld · 10 months

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ON HIS NERVES🩹| Miguel O’Hara

★ Miguel O’Hara x Black spider woman oc

★ Content: Teasing, flirting

—Synopsis: Alice Bernard, also known as Spider-Lily, was recruited by Jessica Drew 3 months ago. She was one of her kind. She was easygoing, kind and knew how to get on Miguel’s nerves.

–one.

ALICE’S POV

“Alice!” Ben Reilly called out dramatically against a wall.

I laughed and waved at him. “Hi Ben!”

“Oi! Alice!” Hobie waved from a table surrounded by Gwen, Miles and Pavitr.

They all waved at me.

“Hey guys!” I waved back and continued walking.

I am Spider-Lily. Named after the flower the radioactive spider that bit me, ingested.

It happened during a family vacation, while I explored the meadow. The spider escaped the unknown lab, finding its way to the meadow of various flowers, drinking the nectar of the red spider lily flower.

I was so stupid for crouching down to the flower, putting my finger out for the spider to crawl on it, but then again, I wouldn’t be who I am today.

My suit was full skin tight spandex. It was dark green, with red fingers and feet. Yellow webbing designs on my mask, arms legs and chest, with a matching yellow spider on my chest. My mask had red swirly designs and tiny yellow dots around the eyes, similar to the spider lily flower.

My abilities consisted of releasing poisonous pollen, shooting natural red webs with green tips from my wrists, that grow like vines and releases poison venom on command. I can grow the spider lily flower straight from the palm of hands, it’s a little party trick of mine. And like the flower, I bring death upon others— that’s if I felt like it.

It’s not like I haven’t killed before.

I was recruited by Jessica Drew 3 months ago, while defeating Doc Ock. She saw my potential. After joining this spider society, my life has been nothing but amazing adventures.

Then there was Miguel O’Hara, the boss. When I first came to HQ, I was blinded by his beauty, then there was that scary, gloomy and mean demeanor. After arguing with Jess for 15 minutes, he threw a watch at me and dryly said “Welcome to the club.”

A true asshole.

I’ve proved myself to him, but I went against protocol a few times, making me his second least favorite spider person, Miles being number one.

He is so fine, I’d jump at any opportunity to let him fuck me— keep it professional Alice!

My spidey senses went off and MayDay fell into my arms from the ceiling.

She giggled and looked at me. She was the cutest little thing. I cuddled her in my arms.

“MayDay!” I heard Peter B call.

I look at her. “How do you manage to always slip away from your Dad?”

She only clapped and smiled in response.

“She’s over here!”

Peter B hurried over. “Oh thank you, Alice. Your mom would kill me if anything happened to you Mayday.”

I handed her over to him and he placed her securely in the baby carrier on his chest. “It’s no problem.” I looked at Mayday and patted her head. “And you stay out of trouble.”

Peter B ruffled her hair. “Oh she will.”

I waved goodbye to them and continued walking, greeting all the other spider persons. They were all so sweet.

Walking backwards and waving, my spidey senses went off. I quickly turned around, but it was too late, bumping into what felt like a solid wall.

I backed up, rubbing my head. “My fault.”

His back muscles tensed before turning around to me. His tall stature was so intimidating, but so hot.

He glared daggers at me.

“Alice.” He looked me up and down.

“Miggy!” I greeted sweetly.

“Don’t call me that.”

“But you love it.” I twirled around him, he followed my every move.

“No, I don’t.” He replied.

Lyla appeared by his shoulder. “Alice! Hiii!”

“Lyla!” I waved. “Doesn’t Miguel love the nickname I gave him?”

“Yes he does.”

“Lyla!”

I enjoyed teasing him. I guess you could say I get on his nerves.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No I don’t.”

“Aren’t I your favorite?” I laughed.

“No.” He stepped closer to me.

I stared up at him, a smile hiding underneath my mask.

“Yes she i—”

“Be quiet, Lyla!” He waved away the AI, but she reappeared again, laughing.

“Awwww, you care about me.” I gushed, hands on my cheeks. “You should let me take you out sometime pretty boy.” I winked.

He tensed up and walked away with no response.

“He’d totally love that.” Lyla whispered to me.

“Lyla!” He shouted.

She giggled before disappearing.

Next part: –two.

#miguel o'hara #my works💌🌷#spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderfem #miguel o’hara smut #miles morales #spider punk #spider man 2099

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sallyastralhcs · 3 months

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【Ｉｎｆｏ　Ｐｏｓｔ】

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Headcanon requests are open. (0/5)

Please always check the pinned post before submitting a request, because requests may be closed or I may have changed something!

Masterlist Post

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Fandoms and characters I will write about:

Jujutsu Kaisen

Characters: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Maki Zen'in, Toge Inumaki, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo.

Ships: SatoSugu, ItaKugi, ChosoYuki, YutaMaki.

Devil May Cry

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, Kyrie, Lady, Trish, Sparda, Eva

Ships: Dante x Lady, Nero x Kyrie, Sparda x Eva

Sally Face

Characters: Sal Fisher, Larry Johnson, Ashley Campbell, Todd Morrison, Neil

Ships: Todd x Neil

ITSV/ATSV/BTSV

Characters: Miles Morales, Miles G. Morales (Earth 42), Pavitr Prabhakar, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Penny Parker, Peter B. Parker

Ships: GoldenFlower, GhostPunk

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Tropes and content:

Allowed

Fluff

Angst

Romance

Friendships

X Readers (male, female, gender neutral)

Horror

Gore and Heavy Gore

AUs

NOT allowed

NSFW (sexual themes, my limit is making out)

Rape/Non-Con

Toxic/abusive relationships

Incest

Pedophilia/Large age gaps

Glorification of SH, suicide, mental illnesses, or any of the previous themes

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My rules:

My deadline to reply is 2 weeks. If I haven't answered it means that I decided to delete your request because it doesn't meet my rules and boundaries;

If you want to use my headcanons as a prompt for a fanfiction or any other piece of art, please credit me!;

If the requests are closed, do not send any more. I'll delete them right away;

I'll reserve myself the right to decline the requests that don't meet my boundaries;

If you have sent a request, please do not send any more until I have responded or until the two weeks are up. To send another request after I've responded to the previous one, wait two days so others can send one too;

If a fandom you want to request isn't there, it means that I either don't know what it is, I don't feel like writing about it at the moment or that I'm not in the community;

Don't suggest different characters, ships or tropes other than the ones I've listed;

My headcanons will always be tagged with #sallyastralhcs

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skatetome · 2 years

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Masterlist and Other Information (pinned)

Click 'Keep Reading' for my other information if you plan to request something

More Locations Than Pages (Elinor Fairmont x Fem!Reader)

Destined and Dream Of (Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader)

The Forgiving Kiss (Tom!Peter Parker x Fem!Mysterio!Reader)

Temperatures of Love (Tom!Peter Parker x Reader)

One Kiss, Hundreds of Lights (Andrew!Peter Parker x Reader)

The Beach (Peter Parker x Reader)

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I'm open to requests for the following characters Spiderman:

Peter Parker (any)

Gwen Stacy

First Kill:

Calliope Burns

Juliette Fairmont

Elinor Fairmont

Stranger Things:

Robin Buckley

Nancy Wheeler

Steve Harrington

Euphoria:

Rue Bennett

Cassie Howard

Jules Vaughn

Maddy Perez

Kat Hernandez

Lexi Howard

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I don't write/DON'T REQUEST

Smut

Anything weird (beastiality, incest, obviously step-bro/step-sis stuff, etc)

Abusive character/victim reader or vice versa

Pro-sh/pro-ed stuff (I'm fine with writing comfort fics but nothing like pro sh or pro ed bf/gf ones)

Male reader (with the exception of gn!reader)

Real people fiction

I do write/DO REQUEST

Fluff

Angst

Any trope that doesn't go against my 'I don't write' list

Female and occasional gender neutral reader

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robertsbarbie · 2 years

Text

To the boy who wasn’t meant for the ground,

To the boy who shouldn’t have opened his mouth.

— Worth It by Abby Holliday

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bartxnhood · 2 years

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fear. | p.p

gif not mine.

| andrew!peter x fem!reader

warnings: death, language and a lot of angst.

summary: you and peter got into some trouble, along with your friend gwen and now he was stuck.

authors note: i know there are a thousand, if not more, different fics about this plot but i thought i’d try it myself. i hope you all enjoy this. this was pretty fun to write anyways.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

fear.

that was the only thing you could possibly think of in that very moment. well, the horror of being up so high was also running through your mind but that wasn’t the point. you were hanging over pools of some sort of chemical, you could hear the bubbling and rumble from the liquid below you. peter barely had a hold on you with his web and with his right hand he had your friend, gwen.

the boy was wedged on a crane staying up with his foot. he barely had a grip on you. your heart was racing a million miles per minute, you stared down at the foggy abyss below you. you could barely think straight. all you could do was hold onto your boyfriend with everything in you. this was a feeling you had never felt before. you had no control over your body anymore.

fear did.

he had gotten in trouble with some gang, they were tough and had been targeting ‘spider-man’ for a long time, well, since the hijacking of a oscorp tuck. they had found out you were his girlfriend and well..now you were here. they found spider-man’s weakness.

you.

no matter how many times peter had told you to stay home or keep a low profile to keep you safe. you were his everything. you were there nights he came into your apartment where he just wanted to see you, hold you close to him. other nights when he came to see you, he was barely walking. you always patched him up and always got on to him for being the ‘friendly neighborhood spider-man’ when he was actually putting himself in danger.

peter sat on the edge of your small love seat which was just below your window. apparently there was some sort of giant lizard on the loose and peter tried catching him only to get his suit pierced and his chest gashed. you helped him get his suit off his torso so you could clean up his injuries.

“peter..” you sighed, taking a rag to his chest, disputing all of his groans and whimpers. you knew it hurt. you hated seeing your boyfriend hurt like this. all for the sake of people.

“you’ve got to be more careful out there. i can't lose you” peter was quick to hold your face with his gentle hands, bringing your eyes to meet his gaze. “hey, hey, hey. you aren’t going to lose me, i’m not going anywhere. i’m right here.” he was quick to assure your worries. and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. his brown doe eyes looked into yours, god. he was so in love with you.

“it’s just me and you” he hummed, putting his lips against yours. everything about you was perfect to him, you kept him grounded. as he did you.

“i love you, y/n” he suddenly spoke, you didn’t say anything you only stared at him.

“i know you do”

you began slipping from peters grip and you began panicking.“peter!” you screamed. he was quick to grab your hand and catch you before you went tumbling down. “it’s okay. i got you. i’m gonna get you guys out of here” his voice was shaking, this was the first time you had ever heard fear in his voice.

you looked over, your friend gwen was hanging by his web. you knew she was scared just like you. the bubbling liquid below the both of you was just waiting to enclose you in its poison. you looked up at peter, his leg was slipping slowly from under the pillar. the closest ledge was near gwen, it was only then you came to the realization you had to sacrifice yourself.

after all, gwen is going off to england soon. she has a better future than you do. you held onto his arm but he kept losing his grip on gwen.

“fuck! peter!” she yelped, he held onto her tighter but he was slipping himself. “do something peter” you said, staring at his masked face. “i’m working on it!” he yelled, this was a bad situation. very, very bad. “i just have to get you somewhere safe. both of you”

you knew he was trying to think of every possibility to get you both of the ledge but nothing was adding up. he couldn’t swing or else he would fall with the both of you. “i just need to get you over on the platform and if i can lower gwen a little bit..i…can..” panic began settling in his voice.

“peter”

“no, y/n. i have to get you two over there..i just..i have..” he continued, he was determined to save the both of you. he couldn’t lose you. not you. he loved you so much. you were his entire world, next to his aunt may. he needed you. “no, you can’t lower her. she’ll fall.” you shook your head, the crane began creaking and the sudden movement made you slip again.

“shit” you mumbled, you looked to gwen again who was now crying even harder knowing she could die. she did nothing to deserve that. you knew what you were getting yourself in to the moment you found out your boyfriend was spider-man. you knew what the consequences were, and gwen did not need to suffer them.

the fear left your body in a moment of seconds, he couldn’t save you both. it was impossible at this rate.

“peter..” you stared, taking a shaky breath, “you need to let me go” his head whipped around looking at you.

you could almost see his expression change under that mask. “what? no. no, i’m not letting you go. i can fix this” he began shaking his head. “no, y/n” he frowned.

“peter.” you demanded, gwen was losing her grip on the web and so was peter. he didn’t have much time till they all fell in the chemicals a few stories below them. “i won’t, y/n. i’m not going to” he pleaded, he couldn’t lose you. not like this. “we’re going to get you out of this, y/n. it’ll be okay”

you shook your head, “you don’t have time, peter. gwen did nothing to deserve this. please. let me go” you practically begged him to let you die. “no. i’m not going to lose you. i’m not letting you die. you don’t deserve it either” his voice began breaking.

how could you say that?

“and gwen isn’t your girlfriend. peter, i know what i was getting myself into when i figured out you were spider-man.” you explained, sniffling. “it will be okay” “no, y/n. it’s not okay. i’ll yell for help..someone has to help us” peter sobbed, he couldn’t hold back the tears anymore knowing he could lose you. “no one can hear us, peter. you have to let me go. you’re running out of time”

“i cant..” he looked away, crying into his shoulder. maybe if he hadn’t loved you so, or if you never found out about his second life you’d never be in this mess. he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. you could hear whimpers from gwen and that was the moment you knew you had to let go. “peter. it’ll be okay, this isn’t your fault.” you assured him, holding onto his suit tightly. “you’ll be okay, spider-man” you smiled through your tears and sniffles.

“look at me, please” you cried, he turned his head to yours waiting for what you had to say. “everything will be okay, just promise me you’ll live on and do great things. you give people hope.” you smiled.

“now let me go, please” you asked him again, his grip around you only tightened. you took a deep breath, accepting that death was only moments away. you began to pry his hand away from you so he could save gwen.

“i love you, peter parker.”

as you fell, you could hear the cries from gwen. “no, y/n!” she sobbed. peter was quick to use his other hand to hoist himself up on the railing and save gwen before his web snapped. now, his only worry was trying to save you. he quickly began yelling for you, how could he be so stupid?

the last thing you saw was his web trying to reach for you. you closed your eyes, imagining peters face. that was the last only you wanted to remember. peter, not spider-man. then, the poison enclosed you. it was so sudden.

peter was quick to fall into the pool of chemicals and retrieve your lifeless body, despite the chemical burns he was quick to web a high place and swing the two of you to safety. his worst nightmare just came to life as he held your body, peter was quick to take his mask off and hold you closer to him.

“y/n?” he breathed. no response from your end. “cmon y/n…open your eyes. look at me..” he cried, his breath hitched hugging your body. “no, y/n please. come back to me, love” the site was filled with loud screams and sobs from your boyfriend.

#tasm x reader #peter parker x you #no way home #spider man no way home #toby maguire #andrew garfield #peter parker #so much angst #gwen stacy #spiderman #tasm 2 #andrew garfield angst

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knottyk · 2 years

Text

Under the Same Sun

Pairing: TASM!Peter x Fem!reader

Summary: Peter had his fair chance at love, all ending in death. He swore never to love again until he meets Y/N from another universe.

Warnings: NWH spoilers!! mentions of death and just overall sadness.

Word count: 2.3k

Years after Gwen Stacy passed, Peter only devoted his time and living days for saving New York.

He juggled going to college, taking care of aunt May and saving the city from crime. He thought it’s what Gwen would’ve wanted him to do. Turn his life around.

When she died, it took a long time for Peter to get over the fact that she’s gone and she will never come back. It drained him to get up every morning and drag himself to do things he needed to do. It was a slow process but everything fell to its proper place and his days had been its usual routine.

Until today, when he was suddenly standing in the middle of the street with furious cab drivers honking him out of the way.

“Just run him over!” A passerby shouted.

He was aware that not everyone is a Spider-man fanatic but they had never been this hostile towards him. He saved the city from a giant lizard and a man who could control large volts of electricity for crying out loud.

“Yeah! Murderer!” People suddenly started throwing whatever things they had in hand and he had no choice but to flee.

Why he didn’t swing up and out from the buildings, he would never know.

Peter ran and tried to navigate his way home but when he stopped at where his building was supposed to be, it wasn’t there. Instead, a store stood in its place.

“Alright, up and at ‘em.” Peter was startled when the door chimed and out came a girl with a green cap carrying a cat before laying it down on the sidewalk.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes widened when she noticed him.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” She looked around frantically.

He knew that voice anywhere.

She quickly ushered him in. The girl hurriedly pulled the blinds down and flipped the door sign to ‘closed’.

“Are you okay?”

He was starting to think that he wasn’t, in fact, okay. Her hair is bundled in a messy low bun, a green apron hugs her body and a concerned expression plastered on her face. How is she alive?

“Pete, it’s okay. You can take it off now.”

“Am I dreaming?” He pinched himself.

“Peter? It’s okay. It’s just me, I promise you’re safe here.“

She cupped his masked face. He leaned into her touch and let his tears fall, not caring about wetting the inside of his mask. He can’t believe he’s gone for so long without her touch.

His sobs echoed whiled she pulled him closer to her. Peter nuzzled his face into her neck and tightened his grip around her, afraid that she’ll disappear in a snap.

After Gwen, Peter was sure he’d never love anyone else. Gwen was his first everything. He couldn’t go through all of that again without thinking of her, and only her. But he couldn’t be more wrong.

The first time he saw her was at the cemetery. He put the flowers on Gwen’s grave and stood to say he’d return once his schedule allows when the wind blew. The flowers he placed rolled and flew over and stopped at your feet. She picked it up and gave it back to the boy wearing a worn down jacket and a beanie.

Love again. The wind whispered and his heart felt the long forgotten beat of a love engraved on the face of the moon.

But alas, their love could only go on for so long. Peter knew the dangers his powers risked for himself and the people he loved. And in the case of being with the right person in the wrong time, she, too, were gone.

“Y/N, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Shh, I know.” She cooed. “Pete, I’m so sorry about aunt May. I don’t know how you’re feeling and I don’t want to invalidate your feelings but just know that I’m here. MJ, Ned and I. We’re here for you, always.”

“What happened to aunt May?” He suddenly pulled back from her embrace. Who are MJ and Ned?

“Sh- She’s gone, Pete. I saw it on the news. Weren’t you with her?” She stood back, confused and really concerned.

No, no. He already lost uncle Ben and Gwen. He can’t lose her too.

Peter felt his heart race, all the emotions catching up to him, and felt his chest closing in on him.

He pulled off his mask and heaved as he stumbled on one of the stools by the counter.

Y/N gasped. This is not Peter Parker. The guy who she’d been hugging and caressing is not the person she thought it was. She was extremely confused but seeing this guy’s state, eyes red, sweaty hair and laboured breathing, she decided now is not the best time to freak on him.

“Hey, calm down. Deep breaths.” She guided him to sit.

“I can’t— She can’t—“ The poor guy couldn’t even speak.

“It’s okay.” She brushed through his soft, brown hair. “You’re okay.”

The boy wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her chest. She didn’t know him but she had a strong urge to protect him.

“…wish…could see Peter.”

The moment was interrupted when a glowing ring floating in the air appeared at the corner of the shop. On the other end, was MJ and Ned waving. The guy immediately put his mask back on.

“Y/N?” MJ called out. “Over here!”

Y/N and the boy in the suit looked at each other. “Don’t worry, I know them.”

Together, they jogged over to the ring and walked through it.

The bliss of seeing her again was gone as fast as it appeared for Peter when he realised that he was in another universe and that she weren’t really his Y/N. It took a while for her to settle with the fact that there was another version of her existing in another universe. Well, existed.

It seemed like a fever dream, three Peters in one room. Currently, MJ and Y/N prepared some coffee for the boys as they worked. MJ took two cups for her Peter and one for Ned.

Y/N went over to the older Peter for his cup and hesitantly put the other on another Peter’s desk, not daring to have any eye contact.

Knowing his past in his universe, she didn’t want him to feel bad for seeing her face again. She decided to distance herself from him. It was only temporary that he’s here and she didn’t want him to be attached to her. He’s gone through enough.

“Do you have anyone?” Peter asked.

Peter’s eyes followed her until she was gone into another room.

“No.” He sighed as he ducked his head to continue working on his cure.

The older Peter looked back at the room she’d gone in with a small smile of understanding etched on his face.

Hours later and the cures were ready. Peter and MJ had gone to the corner of the room to talk while the others waited by the window.

Y/N was holding the box and was leaning on one of the big open windows, looking down on the city. The streets were deserted and cars lined up on the curb. Only a handful of people walking cautiously on the lit streets of New York.

“She liked the city’s view, too.”

She jumped at the unexpected voice behind her.

“It keeps you grounded.” She replied, already knowing who she’s speaking to. “No matter how big or powerful you get, you’re still just a tiny speck in the universe.”

Y/N turned back only to see brown eyes intently looking back at her. “What was she like?”

Peter tilted his head and bit back a smile. “She was kind but headstrong. She wouldn’t back down and would always fight for what she thinks is right.” He shook his head. “No matter how dangerous it gets for her.”

Y/N nodded. “You must’ve really loved her.”

Peter didn’t respond but the look on his face answered for him.

Her lids automatically closed as he caressed her face. She’d never been with anyone before, she didn’t know how love felt. But she had an inkling.

“Peter!” Her eyes shot open when she felt her weight fall back and the air engulfed her. “Let me go!”

“Really? Now?” He chuckled at the sight of her. Eyes wide, clutching onto him like a baby koala.

“Relax, Y/N.” He looked straight in her eyes and he felt butterflies. “We’re just a tiny speck in this universe.”

Y/N took a deep breath and released the tension from her body, wrapping her arms and legs around Peter, finally taking in the view.

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out.

Peter never took his eyes away from her face. “Beautiful.”

Y/N felt his gaze and turned to him. For a moment, they let them be part of the world, in a state of its calm before the storm. Y/N has never felt this strongly about anyone. Peter never thought he’d feel his heart skip a beat again. But there they were, dangling from skyscrapers of a city that never seemed to sleep, basking in each other’s calming presence.

Peter caught how Y/N’s eyes twinkled above the lights and with that, he close the distance between their lips. Y/N’s hand cupped his cheek and he tightened his grip around her waist, scared to let her go. Every second felt right.

When Y/N pulled back, she had tears in her eyes. He couldn’t bear to see another tear on her so he kissed each one off her face. Her cheeks. Her nose. Her eyes.

“Peter.” She said in a whisper. “You and I, we belong in different worlds. It’ll just end up hurting us both.”

“I know.” He knew that they would have to separate once this is all over.

“You’ve gone through enough.” Even in this universe, she cared more about him than she did herself.

“Don’t worry about me.”

Peter swung back and forth between a couple more buildings before swinging back to the building they came from where everyone else was waiting.

“Ready?” Peter asked when they had landed and everyone is in position.

All three of them nodded and swung once more out of the building, leaving Y/N, MJ and Ned. but not before Peter gave Y/N a peck in the cheeks.

“Close the portal!” MJ and Y/N were freaking out over Ned’s shoulder after catching the box from the other end.

“I can’t!” Ned shouted in response from the pressure and the heat of the moment.

“Oh my gosh, that’s a huge lizard!” Y/N warned as the giant reptile ran for them. “Scatter!”

Y/N took the left side while Ned and MJ ran towards the right. Ned opened another portal which gushed out a stream of water, pushing the lizard out of the way. Y/N took a breathe of relief but was cut short when the metal holding up the scaffolding wobbled and fell, bringing all three with the fall.

“MJ!” Y/N shouted.

She tried to go closer to MJ by leaning her weight towards her but MJ was snatched by Ned in what seemed to be a flying cape.

The air was more intense this time than the tranquil state when she was swinging with Peter.

Peter.

“Y/N!” She saw her friend diving after her and reached his hand out for her. Y/N reached out but her hope was lost after seeing him swept out to the side the the Green Goblin.

Taking her last breath, Y/N closed her eyes and let herself fall. This is her destiny, she thought.

Just as her life flashed in front of her eyes, she felt a pair of strong are engulf her in a hug and carry her upright.

It all happened so fast and when she opened her eyes, she saw a teary eyed Peter staring at her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not tearing his eyes off her.

Y/N nodded and held his cheek. “Are you?”

Tears bounced off his face as he nodded eagerly. Y/N pulled his face towards her and met his midway, locking their lips together. Droplets of tears merged in between their faces but they didn’t care.

The villains were cured and Dr. Strange was now casting the spell to forget Peter and everything they knew about the multiverse. Peter was talking to MJ while Ned held Y/N as she wept.

Y/N felt Ned tapping her shoulders and pointed down on the ramp where two other Peters sat observing the moving waters.

She wiped her face and walked over to them. The older Peter sensed her coming so he stood up and walked away to give them space. Peter turned back and smiled at her, patting the space beside him.

Y/N sat and leaned her head on his shoulder while he pulled her closer by the waist.

“What now?” She asked.

“I guess we’ll be back to our normal lives.” He sighed and looked at her face.

“I don’t even know what is normal anymore.” She chuckled. “I’d hate the normal without you.”

“Me too.” He stroked her hair “But just think about how we’re under the same sun, moon and stars.”

“But the multiverse surely has tons of stars, yours different than ours.”

Even now that they were minutes away from separating, she still doesn’t back down. A trait that Peter learned about Y/N. Her. Not his Y/N.

“You know what I’m getting at.” He made a funny face and she reciprocated it.

“Peter!” Their moment was snapped back to reality when Dr. Strange called all three and gave them a nod, signalling that it’s been done.

“Any second now.” Peter pulled you up.

Y/N took him in for one last time and engulfed him in a tight embrace. He smelt of metal from the blood on him but it didn’t matter now. She nuzzled her face closer to the crook of his neck and he kissed her forehead.

It hadn’t been a minute when he vanished into thin air. Y/N stood by the ramp and looked around, the water and the calm breeze bringing her to tranquility before her vision goes dark, waking up the next day in her bed as if nothing ever happened.

masterlist

#nwh #nwh imagines #tasm peter parker #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!spiderman #andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction #peter parker masterlist #peter parker imagines #peter x y/n #y/n x peter #peter x you #spiderman nwh #spiderman imagines #the amazing spider man

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peterjonesparker · 7 years

Note

If your still taking spideychelle prompt could you do a jealous! Michelle

!Loved your jealous Peter fic. You should do a jealous Michelle one .

Omg can you do one with Michelle getting jealous?!

Loved ur new fic!!! Was wondering is you would write a fic about spideychelle proposal????

hello! i hope this is okay! i tried to write this in many different ways but nothing ever really felt right. so, this isn’t just jealous!michelle. so if you’d like me to write more jealous!michelle that is more similar to the jealous!peter fic i wrote, let me know and i can write some small oneshots or something. (i have ideas for jealous!michelle that is similar to jealous!peter but nothing that was enough to make a whole fic.) anYWAY, i hope this is okay! and sorry it took so long!

five people who hugged michelle (ao3 link)

1. gwen stacy

When Michelle is a freshman in college, she has a bit of a crisis. She and Peter have been best friends for around two years now, and she’s been nursing a healthy crush on him for a bit longer than that. And in their whole friendship/crush existence, Peter has only ever liked one girl: Liz Toomes. (Which, if she’s being honest, Michelle probably had a crush on Liz too. So she gets it.) This is all a roundabout way of her saying that she’s been able to have a crush on Peter Parker and not do anything about it because their relationship to each other and mostly to other people always stayed the same.

But in their freshman year of college, Peter Parker gets a lab partner for intro physics. She seems like a kind, genuine, funny, good person. She’s friendly and intelligent. And whenever Michelle makes the trek to MIT to join Peter for lunch before lab, Gwen always asks how she’s doing and takes a genuine interest in MJ and her life. So, Gwen Stacy is exactly Peter’s type (if Liz is a crush to go by), and MJ has a mini crisis about it.

Peter and Gwen don’t start dating though. At least not for the first month or so of school. But MJ is worried. And then one Wednesday while she’s doodling in the middle of her freshman seminar (it focuses on human rights and MJ is actually a big fan of the class, but That Kid™ is speaking right now and he’s absolutely insufferable), she feels her pocket buzz. It’s a text from Peter.

the dork pedro: hey, are you free for dinner tonight

She schools her expression so as not to give anything away while her professor gets into a debate with Kid™ about how his point, while there is some argument to be said for it, is actually irrelevant in the real world and only works in a hypothetical world where greed and selfishness doesn’t exist.

michelle “if you save my name with any emojis I’ll murder you” jones: yeah sure, 6:30? I’ve got class until 6.

Then her best friend in the class, Jenna (bless her soul), is speaking up to note that the readings actually don’t support Kid™’s ideas and suggest that there needs to be a more active effort on the part of society to correct wrongdoings and hold people accountable.

the dork pedro: sounds good meet at my dorm room

Michelle doesn’t realize until after class that she spends the rest of it smiling. Jenna punches her in the arm and laughs at the expression on MJ’s face. “What’s got you all smiley and happy?” Jenna knows about Peter. At least, she knows that MJ’s half in love with him and has been since sophomore year of high school. Jenna also knows, at least she claims that she knows, that Peter Parker is head over heels in love with Michelle and if they don’t start dating before the end of this year then Jenna will shave her head.

“I’m getting dinner with Peter tonight.” MJ tries to act nonchalant about the whole matter because they’ve gotten dinner in the past. It shouldn’t be a big deal. But then Jenna’s face lights up and she grabs MJ’s shoulders and starts jumping up and down.

“Tonight’s the night! I feel it!” And MJ starts laughing, shaking her head and starting to walk away with a smile on her face. “Tell me how it goes, MJ!”

“Yeah, yeah.” She says over her shoulder. “Now go to class!” But when Jenna whistles loudly down the hall, MJ just smiles and skips for a second before walking to her next class.

And if Michelle puts on her nicest pair of jeans and uses her hands to brush her hair so it’s a little neater, well, no one can prove that. (Except her roommate who just laughs when she changes her shirt, but her roommate is sworn to secrecy so good luck getting that information from her.) MJ walks a little more quickly to Peter’s dorm. (It usually takes her about forty minutes to walk the two miles, but she does it in thirty tonight.)

She practically jumps up the stairs to his room and when she notices the door is slightly ajar, she pushes it open without a second thought because this is around the time he was expecting her. And then she sees Gwen. She’s sitting next to Peter on his bed and she has her arm around his shoulders and when she glances up to see MJ, she jumps. “MJ!”

But before either of them can say anything else, MJ is backing away, apologizing quietly before she runs out the dorm and down the stairs. She can’t really get very far because it’s dark and her tears are making everything blurry. So she settles onto a bench near the dorm in a small brick alcove. She pulls her knees up onto the bench and wraps her arms around them, feeling stupid as she lets her head fall between her knees. This is dumb. She’s dumb. She knew it was coming. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

“MJ?” While MJ likes Gwen well enough, she is the last person on earth she wants to talk to right now. (Well, second to last.) But Gwen sits next to her on the bench anyway because she refuses to take a hint when MJ doesn’t even look up. “I know saying ‘it’s not what it looks like’ feels like a lame excuse, but it’s true.”

Michelle takes a deep breath and looks up at Gwen, not caring that her tear-stained cheeks give away how much she cares. “I’m happy for the two of you, honestly. I just,” she sighs. God, this is the worst.

“You love him.” At Michelle’s shocked face, Gwen continues. “You’re not subtle. Neither is he, you know.” When MJ’s brows draw together in confusion, Gwen laughs. She has the decency to look sheepish when MJ scowls. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you two are so bad at this. He and I aren’t dating, okay? I’m gay.”

And, fuck. Honestly, how could MJ be so heteronormative? She’s bi for crying out loud! The only other person MJ sees Gwen with is that one girl Alex. She saw them holding hands once! God, MJ feels ridiculous. Gwen just puts her hand on MJ’s knee and chuckles. “We spend half the time during lab talking about his massive crush on you and how he plans to woo you. Tonight was supposed to be a special night.” Michelle’s eyes widen and Gwen smiles warmly. “I told him to stay in his room because I figured he’d mess this up somehow because he’s clueless, but you probably already knew that.”

Michelle doesn’t really know how to feel right now but she puts her legs back on the ground and pulls Gwen into a hug. She whispers quietly into Gwen’s hair, “thank you.” Gwen rubs her back and squeezes her a bit more tightly.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. Hopefully now I don’t have to listen to how you’re never going like Peter the way he likes you.” Michelle pulls back with a laugh, wiping her cheeks and opening her eyes wide, trying to get rid of any residual tears. “Now go find him, please.”

Michelle smiles, standing up and thanking her one last time before sprinting back to his room. He’s sitting on his bed, face in his hands and shoulders sagging. MJ walks over and sits down next to him, hugging him tightly when he looks up at her. His arms wrap slowly around her waist and it’s a bit uncomfortable hugging while they’re sitting down but his warmth is intoxicating.

She pulls back slightly. “So, I hear you want to be my boyfriend.” Peter flushes, his ears turning red and his eyes widening. He looks too adorable, so Michelle just rests her hand lightly against his cheek. “Kiss me if yes.”

Peter leans in and their lips brush. It’s short and nothing too spectacular, but they’re both smiling and afterward Peter pulls her back into a hug, burying his face in her neck and kissing it softly. Michelle can’t contain the butterflies that are flapping around in her stomach. She finds she doesn’t really want to, either.

2. liz toomes

Michelle loves Liz Toomes. She’s one of her closest friends. After Liz moved to Oregon in Michelle’s sophomore year, they started talking more. Michelle would keep Liz updated on decathlon and ask her questions. Liz would tell Michelle about Oregon and being the new kid and tease MJ about her crush on Peter.

So when Liz tells MJ that she’s going to be in Boston for a conference next week, MJ is understandably very excited. Since Liz and Peter are fairly good friends now, the three of them arrange to get dinner together. Michelle is excited. Honestly, she is. But, there’s still a part of her that gets a little self-conscious. Because Peter and Liz joke around and Liz is so bubbly and alive and outgoing and charming and all these things that Michelle’s never cared to be nor has she wanted to be.

It’s not that Michelle doesn’t think she’s a pretty awesome person. Nor does she want to change who she is because of what she thinks Peter might want. She knows her loves her. She knows they’re happy. But she worries that Peter wants someone like Liz sometimes. That he might be happier with someone more like Liz. Which, she knows, is dumb. But she can’t help but feel sometimes as if he’s with him because they’re friends and they were attracted to each other and it was convenient and made sense.

Which is why she’s a little off at dinner. She’s a bit quieter and Peter and Liz joke together and MJ doesn’t contribute all that often. When Peter goes to the restroom, Liz turns and levels her with a serious look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Michelle tries to play it off. She knows that it’s a lame response and that Liz will not accept it. Which is why Liz just raises one eyebrow and keeps looking at Michelle with the same look on her face. And MJ is trying to be more open and honest because Peter always says he never really knows what she’s thinking. So, MJ sighs and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at Liz when she says something she knows Liz is going to disapprove of. “I get worried that I’m not going to be enough for him.”

She opens one of her eyes slightly so she can peak at Liz, but she doesn’t look incredulous and Fed Up™ like she had thought. She’s just smiling, warm and gentle. She reaches out and puts her hand on Michelle’s shoulder. “In all the years I’ve known Peter, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. It’s like you hung the moon and he’s going to spend every day worshipping the ground you walk on. He absolutely adores you, okay?”

Michelle pulls Liz into a hug so she doesn’t accidentally start crying in this restaurant. “Thank you for telling me I’m being dumb.”

Liz chuckles. “Of course, MJ.”

They’re still hugging when Peter walks back and he laughs a bit, asking, “I was gone for like five minutes. What happened?”

Michelle and Liz pull back from their hug, grinning at each other. MJ turns to Peter and kisses him on the cheek. “Nothing to worry about, loser.” He shakes his head and scoffs, but his cheeks are slightly pink so she figures Liz is right about everything, so she should trust her on this one.

3. may parker

At the end of their first semester sophomore year, Michelle and Peter start to struggle a bit. He’s going off on missions a lot more frequently and he’s starting to fall behind and it feels too similar to the beginning of sophomore year in high school and Michelle doesn’t want to feel like they’ve gone back. Michelle sees him less often, and it wouldn’t usually be an issue because they both get busy. But it’s been a week since she’s seen him and when they text the conversations are short. She reads online that Spiderman has been particularly active in the last two weeks, and Michelle doesn’t want to be upset, but she is. Hell, they haven’t even had sex in, like, a month. Which, for them, is a really long time.

It’s more than just the sex, though. Michelle misses Peter. She misses watching movies with him on the couch and cuddling when she’s particularly stressed. She misses him trying to make tea and failing, somehow, even though it’s honestly not that hard and we’ve talked about this three times this past week. She misses talking to him right before they go to bed and stealing food from his plate and having tickle fights. She misses him posing for her doodles and holding him when he cries after a particularly bad dream. She misses him. But she’s also upset at him.

So, over Christmas break when they’re both back in New York, when she arrives at his house to give him his present (which may or may not include a blowjob if she’s feeling generous and also maybe because she wants to have sex with her boyfriend because it’s been so long) and he’s not at his house, she scowls a bit.

May smiles, but Michelle knows that she’s also concerned. Despite this, she laughs. “Normally, I’d be offended at seeing someone so disappointed to see me!”

Michelle sighs, frowning a bit. She’s tired. Really, she is. “I’m sorry, May. You know I love you.”

May just puts her hand on Michelle’s shoulder and guides her inside. “I know. Come on it. He’ll hopefully be back within the hour.” May closes the door once Michelle is inside and directs her to the kitchen table. She walks into the kitchen and puts the kettle on the stove. “You like earl grey, right?”

Michelle smiles, nodding slightly. They’re silent while the water heats up and then the kettle screams and May brings over two mugs. Michelle lifts the tea bag up and down, watching the color spread in the water. They chat about how school’s been and what May’s been doing. She’s dating someone new. Michelle congratulates her. But then it’s been forty-five minutes and Peter’s not back. May reaches over and grabs Michelle’s hand. “Tell me what’s going on.”

That’s hard. Because Michelle doesn’t fully know herself, but she’s sad and upset and frustrated. But she loves him so much. “I miss him.” That’s really it, isn’t it? He’s not around anymore and she misses waking up and having him wrapped in her arms. “It feels like he’s always gone now. I just…miss talking to him and doing little things with him. It feels like I’m not as important as I used to be.” She leaves out the part where she misses sex, but it doesn’t really matter at this point, she doesn’t think. Besides, while she loves May dearly, she has no interest in discussing her sex life with the woman.

“Tell him.” May says it as if it’s all that simple. Michelle doesn’t want him to feel like he has to choose. Doesn’t want to make him feel like he has to give up this part of his life. May continues on despite the look Michelle is sure she’s giving May. “He cares about you. A lot. He will listen. It’s not unfair to tell him how you feel.”

Then there’s a crash in his room and he’s home. He comes out a few minutes later in his pajamas and gulps when he sees them. He looks a little worse for wear, but he’s okay. May stands, saying she’s going to spend the night with her girlfriend. She walks over the give Peter a kiss on the cheek. She hugs Michelle tightly before she leaves and whispers into her ear, “Be brave enough to be vulnerable.”

Then she’s gone and neither she nor Peter says anything for a moment. But Michelle takes a deep breath and quickly spits out, “I miss you.” He looks like he chokes on anything he was going to say and walks over, sitting next to her and grabbing her hands. Somehow this empowers her and she continues. “I feel like we don’t see each other or talk anymore. I miss just sitting next to you and doing homework. I miss laughing with you.” She looks down, blushing slightly. “I miss sex with you.”

He laughs, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry.” He kisses her forehead. “I love you.” He kisses her nose. “I miss you.” And then he kisses her mouth and she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him tightly to her. It’s weird, sitting in their respective chairs and kissing. But it feels like deliverance so she doesn’t really care.

She’s smiling when he pulls back slightly. She glances down and runs her hand up his thigh. HE chokes on air a bit and she laughs. “I actually came here to give you your Christmas presents.”

“Presents?” He squeaks out and his voice is a couple octaves too high. She just smiles, feeling like a vixen when she slides off her chair to kneel on the floor in front of him. She yanks open his pajama bottoms and he gulps, head tilting back as he whispers out a quick, “Jesus Christ.”

She laughs again when he looks back at her, looking absolutely wrecked when she hasn’t even done anything yet. “Face it tiger, you just hit the jackpot.”

4. ned leeds

Michelle is absolutely livid right now. She’s wound so tight she’s going to snap at the next person who says a single word to her. She was at the meeting for queer students on campus when she encountered a woman who looked at her, confused and slightly upset. “Wait, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Michelle had sighed. She had been asked this a couple times over the last few meetings. “Yeah, I’m bi.”

The woman just raised one eyebrow. “But you’re in a straight relationship.” And she’d already had a long day and she didn’t want to deal with someone implying she wasn’t gay enough to be at their queer meetings. So she’d picked up her backpack and stormed out. She didn’t care what this woman thought of her, she just needed to get out of that room.

She walks the mile to Peter’s apartment quickly because she’s about to burst into tears and she doesn’t want to do that in public. She just wants to see her boyfriend and hug him because she feels so fucking exhausted. But when she knocks on the door, he’s not ther. Ned answers because he’s visiting this weekend and then Michelle bursts into tears and Ned pulls her into the apartment and gives her a hug.

They stand like that for a couple minutes. Ned’s rubbing her back in soothing circles and whispering assurances to her. When the tears become less all consuming, Ned pulls back and asks, “what’s going on?”

Michelle takes a deep breath, trying to stop her tears. “A girl implied I wasn’t gay enough to be at a queer meeting.” And then her tears come more forcefully again and Ned pulls her back into a hug. Her shoulders shake and she buries her face into his neck, not caring that his shirt’s probably very wet on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, MJ. Oh my goodness.” He guides her to the kitchen counter and sits her down on the bar stool. He sits next to her and keeps rubbing circles on her back. “I’m sorry she was trying to erasure your identity.” Michelle just nods, taking deep breaths as her heart stops racing so quickly. “It’s not the same, but sometimes I feel like people don’t really accept my demisexuality. Like, I’m on the ace spectrum but some people don’t want to acknowledge that. Like, especially since I’ve found Betty. It’s hard because everyone just assumes I’m in a perfectly straight hetero relationship. And I go to queer meetings and people are always just like, ‘oh cool, an ally!’ And I want to shout, ‘I’m not an ally! I’m queer!’” He pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “Not that I wouldn’t be an ally. I don’t actually know what I’m saying right now but I should probably stop.”

Michelle laughs and hugs him tightly again. Ned’s her best friend too. She loves him. “You’re such a dork, Ned. I love you.” They hug until Peter comes home and she’s still crying a bit. When Peter notices, he rushes over and she pulls away from Ned to hug Peter. Because she missed him and she loves him too and he always knows how to make her feel better.

Peter guides her to the couch and covers her with a blanket. He kisses her on the head and then walks back into the kitchen to find Ned putting a kettle on the stove. “What happened?”

“Someone implied she was straight.” And oh god. This has happened too many times to count since she’d started dating Peter and he feels so badly. So when he walks back into the living room with a mug of chamomile tea (because it’s her favorite and it puts her right to bed and she needs her sleep), he pops the DVD for Frida into the DVD player. Michelle claps her hands together and smiles when she accepts the mug from Peter.

Peter slides underneath her so she’s laying her head on his lap and when Ned comes over she lifts her legs before resting them on his lap. She dozes off almost instantly, Peter rubbing circles on her temples. Her last thoughts as she starts to drift are that she loves these boys and the family they’ve become for her.

5. peter parker

It’s a week before graduation. Michelle is freaking out a bit. But she feels like she shouldn’t be. Because on all accounts, her life is pretty great. She’s going to Columbia to get her masters next year. Peter’s going to be working for Stark Industries in New York so they’ll be able to stay together. Her brother is moving to Jersey so he’ll be close. She and Peter are going to May’s wedding this summer. Ned’s going to fucking Stanford for medical school next year. Things are awesome, so she shouldn’t be freaking out.

But the other day one of the women who worked in her office proposed to her boyfriend. And it got MJ. Because she started thinking about Peter. She loves Peter. They’re going to be living together in New York. And MJ always hated the idea of marriage as a kid, but when she thinks about calling Peter her husband, her heart does little flips.

And it’s all she’s been able to think about for the past week. While everyone is panicking about moving to a new city or going to grad school or wondering what they’re going to do after college, Michelle has been sitting back, panicking because she’s in love with her boyfriend and she might want to marry him. She might want to marry him soon. She always thought she wouldn’t get married until her thirties. Because she was going to develop her career and settle into her life before settling down in that regard. But she and Peter have been dating for two years and they’ve already settled into each other. It’s not as if much would change. They’d just get tax breaks.

So MJ decides to call her older sister. But it’s one in the morning and she wakes her up and she’s not happy about it. “MJ, I swear to god if this isn’t an emergency, I’m going to kill you.”

“I think I want to marry Peter.”

Her sister doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, slowly, as if she’s worried Michelle won’t understand: “And that’s a problem because…?”

And there’s the rub. There isn’t a problem, not really. She and Peter are doing well. She thinks they’re going to continue to do well. They plan their lives around being with each other now. She’s happy with him. It wouldn’t be a stretch if they were to get married. “I…I don’t know.”

Her sister sighs and Michelle can practically see her rubbing her hands over her eyes. “MJ, look, I don’t know why you’re scared. I don’t know if you’re worried you aren’t ready because you’re only twenty-two or if you think he’s not going to say yes or if there’s some other wild reason you think you shouldn’t ask Peter to spend the rest of his life with you. But if you want my take on things, I think if you decide you do want this, then you should ask. Because there’s no reality in which he doesn’t say yes and there’s no reality in which he isn’t happy with you.”

Her sister can’t see the smile on her face, so MJ manages to laugh despite the tears forming and says with a waver in her voice, “Thank you.”

The laugh on the other end of the phone is comforting still, even though Michelle is sure it’s at her expense. “Now can I go to sleep or is there an existential crisis I need to work through with you?” MJ laughs, thanks her sister, and they say their good nights. Before she hangs up, her sister says, “Congratulations, by the way. In advance.” And then her sister hangs up the phone. So, Michelle makes up her mind and that is that.

Then the issue becomes how does she ask? She knows she wants it to be private, like so many things with them are. But she also wants it to be special. Because he means a lot to her and she wants him to know she put a lot of thought into this.

Which is how she ends up waking up at three in the morning and heading to the kitchen the day before his graduation date. (She graduated a few weeks ago, but has stayed in Boston for his.) She steals one of his mugs and paints the words marry me? at the bottom. (She’d seen the image on Pinterest a few years back and thought it was cool.)

She wakes up slightly earlier than him and makes breakfast. Omelettes with prosciutto and spinach, his favorite. (She thinks it’s eh, but it’s easy to make and he groans after each bite and it makes her hot and heavy. They usually end up having sex afterward, but today she can’t do that. Well, at least not immediately.)

When he finally stumbles out of his bedroom and sees the omelette on his plate, he gasps. “Babe.” He walks over and hugs her tightly, kissing her on the cheek. “You’re the greatest.” She laughs, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him onto the bar stool.

“Now sit and eat before your graduation.” She puts a plate in front of him and hands him the coffee mug. She’s incredibly nervous. And she does her best not to stare each time he takes a sip of his coffee. She was worried he wouldn’t want to finish it so she didn’t put all that much in it.

She’s in the middle of talking about which color they should paint their bedroom walls in their apartment in New York when he takes a sip and then stares down at the bottom of his mug. She stops talking without realizing and he stares up at her. He tilts the coffee mug toward her and raises one of his eyebrows in question.

She bites her lip, looking down at the kitchen counter. Then she glances back up, smiling despite the nerves. “Wanna get married?” She asks, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “To me?”

And Peter jumps up so quickly the bar stool falls back but then he’s wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and lifting her up and spinning her around. She shrieks, even though it’s eight am and their neighbor works the night shift. (They’ll give him a pie later.)

He sets her down and kisses her smack on the lips. It’s sloppy and they both have morning breath but it might be the greatest kiss she’s ever had. “In case I wasn’t clear, yes.” Peter pulls her back into a hug. “A thousand times yes.” He starts kissing her neck and her jaw and MJ’s heart beats a mile a minute because she and Peter are going to get married.

Then Peter’s hand goes down her pants and she gasps, pulling at his wrist. “Peter, you’re going to be late for your graduation!”

He just kisses her and bites her ear before whispering, “my fiancé just proposed to me. Graduation can wait.” And his voice is really deep and husky and Michelle’s still turned on because Peter kept moaning after each bite of his omelette.

He smirks and continues on and Michelle throws her head back and moans. God, she’s so excited to call Peter her husband. And she tells him this. Many times. And Peter is only, like, ten minutes late for graduation. He’d kissed her cheek before he ran off and whispered into her ear, “It was worth it.”

God, she’s so in love with this dork.

#ask #theygotboxesandnurfguns #spiderman homecoming #spiderman: homecoming #sh #i write things #otp: i'm just kidding i don't care #spideychelle #peter x michelle #michelle x peter #michelle jones #peter parker #ned leeds #may parker #liz allan #gwen stacy #lol so many tags

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bby666k · 2 years

Text

The same way you do // tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After months of sexual and romantic tension, chemistry, and obvious interest in eachother, you finally tell Peter what you’ve known for a week now; you know he’s Spider-Man. You’ve told him quite another vital piece of information that’s got his head all mixed up- you’re a superhero, too.

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1492

Warnings: Cursing, the rest is fluff, not really anything alarming lmao

Other notes: This is an au where tasm!peter and MCU!ned were best friends in high school and still are. It’s set in the tasm universe, but ned from the tom holland movies is in it, hopefully that makes sense!!

it’s in third person i hope this doesn’t bother anyone i’m sorry

some abbreviations u might not recognize (bc i made them up LMAO):

SH/N = reader’s superhero name

BF/N = reader’s best friend’s name

Pete shut the bathroom door behind him as he hastily punched in the numbers of Ned’s phone number. He would come back to them in a couple minutes- he just needed to think. He felt like he was going insane.

"Hey, what's up?" Ned's voice came through the line.

Pete took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He was leaning against the bathroom sink. "Y/N is SH/N. And they know I'm Spider-man."

"Holy shit, dude! What?!" Ned gasped.

Pete nodded vigorously and cleared his throat. "Yea, I'm- I'm kind of freaking out right now." He giggled nervously. "Like, I- I'm really freaking out, Ned."

"Why? What's wrong?" He started. "This is good, man! This means you don't have to hold back anymore!"

"You don't understand, I-" He took a deep shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head. "They- being Spider-man is so unbelievably fucking dangerous, Ned. I'm in love with them, man, they- I don't want them to get hurt. They can't get hurt, Ned, they can't..."

"You're in love with them?" Ned asked suddenly.

Peter froze, suddenly realizing what he had just said. A small smile twitched onto his face as he looked down at the bathroom tiles. He... He loved them? Was it really happening? Was he finally capable of falling in love again?

"I guess... I am," he mumbled.

"Peter, this-" Ned laughed in disbelief. "Everything is gonna be okay! This is great, like- really, really great! You don't have to worry about putting them in danger anymore. You're both in the same situation."

Peter shook his head, snapping himself out of the dreamy feeling he was previously trapped in. "You don't get it..." He sighed. "Soon enough, half the city is gonna be after them. Kingpin's already pissed- like, I think he hates them almost as much as he hates me."

"I've seen what they can do, dude. I've seen the videos. And you've told me yourself," Ned began. "They've got crazy skills, and- and their powers are like, insanely strong. They've got this!"

Pete took a deep breath as he looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know..."

"Peter..." Ned sighed. "You can't underestimate them- they're not Gwen, they're a superhero. They like all the same things you like, they stand for all the things you stand for. You don't have to worry about keeping secrets, or protecting them, because they can protect themselves."

Pete blinked profusely as he stared ahead. "Fuck, you're right..." He muttered. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't underestimate them."

"Exactly. I know it's because you're a good person 'n all, and you care about people, but sometimes that thing you do can get really annoying. We're not all helpless. They just wanna help people, the same way you do."

Peter furrowed his brows as he took in what Ned told him. He was right- Peter spent so much time worrying about protecting people he loved, that sometimes he forgot not everyone needed protection. He wanted to keep Y/N safe- he knew he didn't want them to be in danger all the time. But this was their choice. The same way it was his choice to be Spider-Man. They were risking their life every day just to help people- something Peter had been doing for years without question.

And deep down, he knew that was what he'd been looking for all along. Someone he could relate to, someone he could finally feel close to, someone who understood him and why he did what he did. And now that he had it, now that he had his soulmate, he was on the phone with his best friend complaining about it.

"Hey Ned, I- I think I gotta go." A soft smile twitched onto his lips. "I gotta go do something."

"Alright dude, good luck," Ned began. "I love you- just follow your heart. Bye."

"Love you too. Bye."

The second Pete hung up his phone, he hastily shoved it in his pocket and unlocked the door. He walked at a brisk pace down the hallway, his hands vibrating with adrenaline. He shoved open the bedroom door where Y/N was standing. They looked like they had been pacing back and forth, stopping and releasing their thumb from their teeth as soon as he walked in.

"Pete, I'm-"

Their voice was interrupted by Peter rushing forward, cupping their face in his hands, and pressing his lips against theirs.

They froze for a second at the shock before kissing him back, wrapping their arms around his neck. Pete felt a million emotions running through him as he kissed them. There were fireworks, a billion city lights dazzling him from the inside. The feeling of their lips against his was complete euphoria, a feeling he'd been desperately craving for months and finally receiving a release.

He pulled away, his hands now on their waist, and smiled down at them.

"W-wow..." They mumbled, giggling.

Pete bit his lip and grinned down at them. Their eyes sparkled as they looked up at him, a beautifully bright smile on their face. He absolutely adored them in every sense of the word. Holding them so close, in such a beautiful moment, made him happier than he'd ever thought was possible.

"I... I really like you, Y/N..." He started, speaking quietly. He felt their shoulders relax as they melted in his arms, a dreamy smile on his face. It made his heart rate speed up even more.

"I know, dumbass..." They mumbled, their eyes glancing down at his lips before returning to his eyes.

Pete giggled and rolled his eyes before looking down at them again. "So..." He cleared his throat. "Do you... You know... Um..."

"Yes, Pete, I like you too." They both giggled and stared into eachothers' eyes for a moment.

"This could've gone very badly if I misread cues, jesus..."

Y/N burst out laughing, a laugh that made Pete's stomach fill with butterflies. "Yea, I guess it could've."

"I..." Pete hesitated and swallowed hard, avoiding their gaze for a second. "I don't wanna keep acting like there's nothing here. Like, like... like I'm not practically obsessed with you. I care about you so much."

"I'm obsessed with you, too." They giggled and softly brushed their hand against the side of his face. They were always so gentle- so tender and caring. "You mean the world to me, Pete."

Y/N took his hands in theirs, looking up into his eyes with sincerity. "I was so afraid to love you," they started. "Not because you're hard to love- because you're annoyingly hard not to. I was so terrified of getting you tangled up in my life, and my identity, and I didn't wanna hurt you. I was so, so scared of hurting you, Peter." They swallowed hard, immense sadness filling their eyes. He felt his heart break as he stared down at them.

"You love me?" He realized out loud.

They swallowed hard and blinked profusely. "Would that... would that bother you?"

"No, of course not-" He scoffed. "I... I love you, too."

An emotional grin appeared on their face as they began to tear up, looking into his eyes. They suddenly leaned forward and kissed him, the feeling just as electric and passionate as before.

When they pulled away, they smiled up at him. "I really like kissing you."

Pete giggled, resting his forehead against theirs. "I love kissing you."

Suddenly BF/N stepped up to the doorway, her eyes wide. Pete and Y/N both turned to look towards the noise and immediately stepped away from each other slightly. Pete coughed and scratched the back of his neck while Y/N cleared their throat and smoothed out their outfit.

"Bad time?" BF/N asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Uh..." Y/N giggled nervously.

"I'll come back later." BF/N nodded, an awkward smile on her face. She turned the corner but returned a second later, peeking her head in. "I'm just gonna... Shut this." She closed the door and the two of them heard her foot steps patting down the hallway.

Both of them looked at each other and burst out laughing. Y/N placed their hands on his chest as they leaned into him and continued giggling.

"I probably should've shut the door," Pete mumbled, a giggle laced through his voice.

Y/N looked up at him and smirked, nodding. "It was really bothering me." They giggled again, squeezing their eyes shut. "...But I didn't wanna ruin the moment."

Pete chuckled and gently caressed their cheek with one hand. "We're so stupid."

"At least we're hot and cool. It makes up for it," they teased.

Pete cleared his throat. "So..." He started. "Do you... Do you wanna go back to the party? Are you feeling any better?”

"Oh, definitely." They nodded. "I feel much better."

“Me too,” Peter replied, smiling softly. “Me too.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #atsm!peter parker #atsm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield!peter parker #spider-man x reader #spider-man #fanfic #fanfiction #spider-man fanfic

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maycat-19-142 · 2 years

Text

Pt.2 to the andrew!Peter x spider girl reader

⚠️:shock and spoilers not edited

The person you lost is Oracle and there Referred to as o/n [oracle name] You are a weapons safety manager.

Tom Holland=t

Andrew garfield=a

Tobey Maguire=tm

************************************

Part 1

●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●

"H-hay Peter" M.J whispered

"She's dead may's dead " [t] Peter muttered

"Oh" ned whispered and huge Peter

"We need to end them" [t] Peter said

"No" a unknown voice tells him the other Peters jump down and reveal themselves while you stayed in the shadow

"What more spider.. me's" [t] Peter asked

"Yup, and I get it about the death, my uncle Ben died when I couldn't not save him" [tm] Peter said

"And I get it to. My first love gwen i also couldn't save, i became cold and sour" [a] Peter said

"And I lost my best friend the closest person to me o/n" you said walking out of the shadow

"W-what. Who are you" [t] Peter asked

"Are you a female me" [t] Peter asked you

"Haha no I'm Misumena my name is y/n l/n and from this Peter Universe" you said pointing at [a]Peter "also i'm his Fiance"

"M.J are you a spider" ned asked

"No I'm not spider girl" M.J stated quickly" also why isn't you name 'spider girl'

" the spider that bite me was a flower crab also known as a Misumena vatia."

"Oh"she said

"OK back yo the point i was able to 'fix' green goblin before" you tell them

"Who is the green goblin" ned and M.J asked

"Was he the man that killed may" [t] Peter asked

"Sadly yes" [a] Peter said

"He was a one of my co-workers till he when crazy" you sigh

"What did you do" [tm] Peter asked

"Weapon safety, make sure no one takes military and oscrop weapons" you tell him "now is there a place that has a lab that i can use"

"Yes in the school" [t] Peter tells you

"Thanks" you tell him "Peter"

"Yes" all the Peters said

"My Peter, do you need more web fluid" you chuckle

"Yes, two canisters should be Enough" [a] Peter tells you

"Do you to need web fluid" you ask the other Peters

"i make my own" [tm] Peter tells you

"And you" you ask [t] Peter

"No I'm good" he saids

"Cool let's get this sh•t show started" you tell them all

☆♡¤☆♡¤☆♡¤☆♡¤☆♡¤☆♡☆¤♡☆♡¤

I have been writing this from a few hours and I finally done hope you enjoy have a good day and night

Pixie out 🧚‍♀️

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theliterateape · 3 years

Text

Culture in Real Time

by Don Hall

“I have a surprise for you in honor of February!”

Dana and I have this thing we can’t quite find common ground upon concerning birthdays. She is a minimalist from a wholly unsentimental Pennsylvania family. I’m a materialist raised by a mother who calls presents “prizes” and gives gifts as a part of her love language.

While I’m old enough not to care, I still want my birthday to be a celebration of me. It’s small in spirit but, in that self-diagnosis we all attempt on our own psyches, I was the child of a beautiful woman who attracted men who wanted her but tolerated me. Birthdays were my mother’s way of reminding me that, at least to her, I was someone of note.

“I’m putting the blue in the toilet!”

Another unusual record skip in our marriage is those Tidy Bowl tablets you put in the tank and turns the water blue. To her, they are a sign of white trash, low culture, unnecessary expense. To me, they are an odd bluish signal of semi-wealth and extravagance.

For the most part, the toilet remains clear. She likes it that way because she can then examine the color of her urine to see if she been hydrating properly (too yellow and she’s not). Once in a moon, she indulges me with a tab of unnatural blue with a hint of ammonia. It’s stupid but I love it every time.

We are both Aquarians which means we both are almost zealous in our personal independence and the sight of her in the bedroom and I on the couch, doing our separate things in the same space, is common. We do well together.

Our differences—in terms of how we view money, consumerism, art, reading, politics—are bizarrely cultural.

My DNA is mostly Irish. Some British, a bit African American, some Native American, but mostly Irish. I have the fair skin and propensity to addictive behavior of someone Irish but culturally I’m not one who embraces Ireland or her ways. Culturally, I’m a bit trailer trash, a dash biker gang, a sprinkling of Southern United States with a Midwestern sensibility.

I’m an American mutt.

A child of the seventies, a GenX guy who came of age in the 80’s, I’m the archetype of classic rock and slightly retrograde sexist attitudes that almost every Motley Crue and Scorpions song conveys. I still call women I meet “darlin’” and “honey” as a sign of friendliness. I prefer to throw the rock and roll horns to a thumbs up. I have tattoos but most are quotes from my favorite authors.

Culturally, I’m a fucking mess, man.

I have friends who live a more culturally identifiable life. I’ll admit to being somewhat envious of them.

Arlo is black. I mean, black black. He is originally from a tiny county in Georgia and laughs as I tell him how much he fits the stereotype of a sixty year old black man from Georgia.

"You could be played in a movie by Louis Gossett, Jr." and he cackles.

Arlo has a love/hate relationship with his cultural bedrock. He loves the food. "Barbecued pork, collared greens, black-eyed peas. My gramma's kitchen table was what I think Arab suicide bombers dream of instead of virgins." He loves the music. "Mississippi John Hurt, John Hooker, Buddy Guy? Sh-eee-it." He hates the drug culture which he was surrounded by growing up. He hates the idea that all black people can dance. "No one in my family had any of that. No dancing."

Jim (his Korean name is Junghoon but everyone who knows him calls him Jim) tells me he feels out of place when he sees his family. "I guess I'm like a self-loathing Jew in that I'm Korean but by way of Decatur, Illinois." Culturally, he is a "no zone" in that his parents tried to instill the cultural markers of a second-generation Korean kid but he was never really into it. "I always hated kimchi. Hot Pockets. Pepperoni. Keep your Bibimbap to yourself. Give me a bag of Doritos, please."

Culture is comprised of four things in increasing levels of significance: symbols, heroes, rituals and values.

What the three of us all have in common is comic books. All three of us claim to have learned to read courtesy of Stan Lee.

The Fantastic Four. The Avengers. The Amazing Spiderman. The X Men.

The difference between the DC world and the Marvel world was that the heroes in DC were gods and the heroes in Marvel (mostly) were humans with godlike power.

These were the legends and fables of growing up. These were the morality tales of my youth.

From Peter Parker I learned that with great power comes great responsibility. From Logan, his mantra that "The pain let's you know you're still alive" resonated. Daredevil showed that any liability can be overcome (with the help of some radiative waste).

Bruce Banner instructed that anger can be managed. As an angry Irish-esque kid in Nowhere, Kansas during high school, I needed that lesson. Arlo loved Luke Cage ("But not the Netflix one. The one with the chains and the afro. I was country-black but he made city-black look cool.") and Jim was a huge fan of Ben Grimm ("He always felt like a freak but had his family to give him a purpose.").

I had girlfriends who had broken my heart but nothing I could compare to Peter Parker's grief from Amazing Spiderman #121-122 ("The Night Gwen Stacy Died"). Not only did he lose his great love, he snapped her neck trying to save her. Holy fuck! I was seven years old when I read that and the gravity of a beloved hero failing so horribly was traumatic and took me years to process.

Iron Man #120-128 has Tony Stark dealing full-bore with his alcoholism in "Demon in a Bottle."

The entire early X Men storylines find an incredible synthesis of the civil rights issues of the late sixties. While the debates about discrimination, non-violent vs violent protest, and inclusion bypassed my ten year old brain, the ideological battles between Charles Xavier and Magneto set the groundwork for when I started reading James Baldwin in high school.

Even more pervasive in the Marvel Universe was the idea that heroes were as flawed as the villains. Doctor Octopus was the bad guy but not evil. Galactus was not evil but simply trying to survive and his means of staying alive involved eating planets. The crossover of villains to heroes was commonplace in the Marvel Universe cementing an ethic that anyone—even Magneto—could find redemption.

My friend has a kid who loves his superheroes. His introduction to them was the MCU and the films of the Avengers. One day, he and his kid were watching Captain America: Civil War and the child wanted to know if Tony Stark was a good guy or a bad guy. My buddy had a bit of a conundrum because in this case there was no easy answer.

This is a bedrock principle of Marvel: there are no good guys or bad guys. Every character is flawed and can make mistakes. Every hero gets to take turns being selfish, afraid, greedy, and enraged. Every villain has a tortured past and is only the villain out of misguided and traumatized perspective. Like the Netflix Daredevil series when Kingpin doesn't realize he's the bad guy until the thirteenth episode and then is astonished by it.

“Culture is how you were raised,” a friend tells me.

Comic books and the desire to be one of these flawed superheroes are culturally important to me. They are as defining of who I am and who I wish to be as natural hair on a black woman working in an office defines her or traditional prayer rituals are to someone raised in a church. These heroes have been a part of my life since I can remember having memories and I've been engaged with them since that nebulous time.

Isn't that culture? My cultural identity?

We GenX types were raised, in part, consuming pop culture in ways previous generations did not. Hours upon hours of televised stories infused into the soft tissue like an army of Manchurian candidates waiting for the buzzwords to activate our consumerist triggers. The advent of VHS tapes made viewing movies the ultimate babysitter. While a kid born and raised on the streets of Detroit might have very little in common with another born and raised in Idaho, both had cultural roots in their mutual boners for Jill Munroe and devastation over the death of Lt. Colonel Henry Blake. A black kid in Birmingham, Alabama could be as racially different from a white kid in Salt Lake City, Utah but both could bond over Star Warsand Nintendo.

As I read it, culture is comprised of four things in increasing levels of significance: symbols, heroes, rituals and values. By that quite academic frame, it seems that as we parse out our differences in our current multi-cultural war in America, it is a fixation on the symbols that trip us up. Skin color, hair, clothing and style, food, language, sexual proclivities and the presence of certain genitalia are all surface-level identifiers. They are the symbols of each human on display.

I knew a (white) guy who grew up on the South side of Chicago, went to predominantly black populated schools, had mostly black teachers, and whose only friends were black. He dressed black, spoke black, acted black. Did any of that make him somehow less white and does that make any difference? I know a (black) woman—you'd know her, too, if I shared her New York Times Bestselling name—who, if you talk to her on the phone sounds like the secretary from Ferris Bueller's Day Off but looks like Weezy Jefferson from Good Times. Did her accent and nerdy mannerisms make make her less black and does that make any difference?

“Culture is how you were raised,” a friend tells me. “A lot of it is hidden in the back. It’s not just the food you ate growing up but why that food and not something else. It’s what your family decided to spend money on and what they wouldn’t spend money on. It’s those weird rituals you’d practice every holiday. It’s the clothes you wore but more deep than the fashion is why you wore those specific clothes.”

He tells me a story about clothes. His family didn’t have a lot of money so they saved cash by handing clothes down from one sibling to the next. It was frugal and smart with five kids. By the time my friend got the clothes (he was number four of the five) the strain of wear, the places his mother had stitched up, was obvious. And his little brother then got new clothes because four was the limit of the physical shirts and pants.

My friend spends a lot of money on fashion. He wears the latest trends and has a closet full of suits. He says he spends maybe a third of his take-home on shoes. “That’s culture in real time.”

I don’t dress up for much. I own no suits. I have ties but they’re mostly Marvel, Star Wars, and Beatles ties. My dress shoes are either decent tennis shoes or boots. When I was a kid, my mother wanted to please her aunt. Her aunt was a church-goer so we joined her church. I remember the day she told me I couldn’t go to church because my clothes weren’t up to snuff. “You can’t go to church dressed like that!” she guffawed.

I recall being embarrassed. I didn’t have anything nicer. She laughed at my best clothes. It obviously stuck because I still cringe at the memory. As a result, I bristle at the idea of dressing up for anything or for anybody and I do not go to church. “That’s culture in real time.”

While a follower of The Avengers as a kid, I was never a fan of Captain America. No good reason for that. Steve Rogers just never did it for me. That is, until Chris Evans portrayed the character in the MCU movies. Maybe it was my time to appreciate his retro-goodness; maybe I needed to be a bit older to fully appreciate his specific kind of superhero.

Perhaps I needed to live some life before the ideas that the “I can do this all day” persistence did me any good. The belief in something so strong that he’d go against all of his friends in a fight. His loyalty to Bucky despite the fact that his childhood friend had become a villain. His enduring love for Peggy Carter. His stalwart acceptance that he is almost a century older than he looks and most of his friends are long dead.

I didn’t need those values as a kid. I need those values today.

Dana is fourteen years younger than I am. No, I wasn’t looking for a third wife who was born when I was entering high school. It just worked out that way. The age difference feels sometimes like I was encased in ice for seventy-five years only to be resurrected long after the war was won.

The differences we have are bizarrely cultural. She is a free spirit. I am a worker bee. She is a poet in need of inspiration and subject to the mood swings of that breed of writer. I am an essayist who approaches writing like the laying of bricks to build a house who becomes more a follower of Stoicism the older I get. She grew up in the same house she was born in. I grew up moving from place to place with no true sense of a physical grounding. She is relentlessly frugal. I am an impulse buyer.

But we make it work.

Once in a while I wake up in the morning to take a leak and the toilet water is blue.

#culture #comic books #race #class

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smokeybrand · 6 years

Text

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Up An Asshole

So Venom is better than it had any right to be. Also, it’s a f*cking quandary, man. Like, straight up, Venom is not a good film. It’s not. But, at the same time, it’s not terrible. It’s the oddest sh*t i’ve ever experienced. There is a lot of good here. In theory, this should have worked and it kind of does but not really. Full disclose, i am approaching this as a thoroughly versed in the language of Spider-Man and his mythos. I know a great deal about the Venom character. In fact, he’s my third favorite Marvel character. Spider-Man, Dr. Doom, Venom, Captain Marvel, and X-23. Top five, right there. I’m going to do my best to be as objective about this review as possible but, understand, i am wildly biased.

The Good

The performances in this thing were really f*cking good. It’s rare that i see a flick where every major character gives it their all like this. In a bad movie. That’s the thing about this; I don’t know if it’s really all that bad. Independently, the components are mediocre to terrible but together, with an added lift by how great the leads are in their respective roles, this thing gets elevated considerably. it’s schlock, don’t misunderstand, but it’s schlock handled with care, love, and reverence which makes it more? I dunno, man.

Tom Hardy does his thing as usual. I’ve seen a lot of reviews saying this is the worst he’s been since his last terrible performance but that’s not the case. I don’t think those people actually understand the character of Venom. I don’t think they get that he’s a dark reflection of Peter Parker so, yeah, he’s gonna be quick in an edgelord, try-hard, kind of way which is exactly what Hardy gives you. Dude is one hundred percent true to who Eddie Brock and Venom are as characters.

Michelle Williams as Brock’s Ex-fiance (Ex-Wife in the comics) Anne Weying was phenomenal. She’s everything i wanted Mary Jane or Gwen Stacey to be in Sony’s Spider-Outings. Madame is intelligent, strong, and a force all in her own right. Plus, i mean, but dat She Venom, tho!

Rhiz Ahmed does a fantastic job as Carlton Drake. Seriously, he does insidiously sinister Elon Musk brilliantly. There was a quiet danger to this cat that just seethed with every second he was on screen. This is a man who knows he can destroy a person with little more than a phone call. His metered, subtle, insanity is just f*cking breathtaking to watch. Drake, as the main antagonist, would have been spectacular if he maintained a kind of Kingpin-esque level, someone who is just out of reach of our protagonist, as Brock tried to find a way to topple his entire regime. Think Lex Luthor. Bring in Cassidy to play the part of The Joker but with more slaughter, and you’d have a rather compelling narrative to follow through a trilogy of films, i think. But Sony dumb and blew their load on this one movie so we’ll never get to see just how smarmy of a sociopath Rhiz could have crafted with Drake.

The adaption of Lethal Protector for film was pretty dope. I like the liberties they took with the characters while still hearkening back to the comic origins. I didn’t think Venom could work without Spider-Man but it kind of does. There is a lot here to unpack for a first attempt but, as a first attempt? it got a lot right. There is a solid foundation to build something better on and that bodes well for the future. Unless this thing doesn’t make any money. it might not make any money...

The Meh

Everything is cohesive, for the most part. The pacing here is brisk but competent. You get from one scene to the next, all in service toward head-biting and tongue-punching. It’s not the most smooth in it’s stride but it gets to where it needs to, even if it stumbles more of then than it should.

The script was ehh. You can tell someone had some ideas and they are very apparent but the execution just didn’t do it justice. I don’t know if it was the overall plot or the characters, themselves, or the corny dialogue but everything felt just under good. Not pitch enough for me to say it stinks but nowhere near good enough for me to praise it.

The fact that this flick is PG-13 is a goddamn disservice. Seriously, there is, apparently, 40 minutes of raw, violent, footage left on the cutting room floor. This movie probably needed that.

The tone of this flick is mad jarring. I feel like if it was hard R but kept that rather sarcastic, nonchalant, tone, it would have been a better film overall. Not quite like Deadpool but more like Kiss Kiss Bang. I think this film’s strength was when it was calling out the absurd nature of it’s own premise. Which brings me to my net point....

The direction in this film is... wrong. Like, it doesn’t fit the film, you know? Ruben Fleischer, the guy who did Zombieland, helms this and he does a decent job. Dude sucks at directing action but the interpersonal parts, the actual character dynamics, are spectacular in this film. I particularly enjoyed the weird love (?) triangle between Eddie, Anne, and Venom. While i was pleased with what Fleischer gave us, i can’t help but feel like this was the perfect vehicle for Shane Black. HIS version of Venom would have been spectacular.

The Bad

The plot holes in this thing are ludicrous. There are entire subplots just dropped. Main characters are killed off left and right. There are rules established, things inherent to the logic of the world that was created for Venom, that are just thrown out the goddamn window for plot convenience. It’s f*cking insane

Riot is a flaccid antagonist. I understand you don’t blow your load with Carnage in the first film, but really? Riot wasn’t even good in the comics. Dude was a red shirt symbiote. Seriously, he gets consumed and amalgamated, along with, like, three other ones, into a D-Class antihero called Hybrid. If i’m not mistaken, Scream, a female symbiote from the same lot, is the only on that doesn’t get fridged by the end of that Life Foundation arc. To make him the big bad was ridiculous.

That climax was sh*t. I literally didn’t know what the f*ck was going on. Nonsense looked like a f*cking Pollock painting with teeth.

This movie looks like sh*t. The CGI is poor, man. Almost unforgivably so. This thing cost 100 million to make and it looks like it cost a quarter of that. There’s been a lot of comparison to Upgrade but for the money, Upgrade is a FAR superior situation. I can’t say if it was a better film overall but it definitely did the whole takeover thing just as good as Venom, but for a fraction of the budget. Hell, f*cking Life is a better looking Venom movie and it only cost 70 mil!

Why are all of the goddamn symbiotes named human things? The host comes up with that name in the comic. What f*cking alien even understands the English word “Riot”?

The Verdict

Overall, Venom was entertaining. There are a TON of issues, man, but i don’t think it’s as bad as everyone is saying. This sh*t ain’t Shakespeare but it definitely isn’t Batman vs Superman either. There is a lot to like and a clear path toward something better. I think, in the hands of a better director who understand how to execute this type of film, we could have something fantastic. Still, for what we have, it’s pretty decent. I’d say give it a chance. It’s mad entertaining and watching Hardy do his thing is more than worth the price of admission.

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