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ravagedarkness · 11 months

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Spider-Man: Home Rebuilt, Chapter 50: Arrival

The next morning came around.

After we all got cleaned up and ate, we were at the table of weapons. Kitty did take that FN Five-seveN for herself. Craig took the specially made Mossberg with the yellow furniture and Carmilla took the AA-12 along with two Beretta M9s. Joanna grabbed a black rifle which I later learned was an M27 Infantry Automatic Rifle, along with a Beretta M9 and three flashbangs. Scott and I decided not to grab any weapons for ourselves. Instead, I worked with Edith to create a few presets for my webbing.

After that, most us relaxed for a while as Scott made his way to the roof to take in the sunlight. As Kitty explained, his powers depended on ambient energy – normally in the form or sunlight – to function properly. I asked if that meant his beams were made up of solar energy.

“Nope,” Kitty answered with a shake of her head. “His beams are pure concussive force.”

After about two hours, Scott made his way back down to the lobby. He looked around at all of us. After taking in a breath, he nodded.

“I’m going to put in the call at The Daily Bugle,” he said. “After that call is made, I want everyone in uniform with your coms ready. We’ll be going by codenames from that point on.” He frowned slightly. “This is going to be a dangerous situation. And I have zero doubt that Scorpion and whoever else Hammer sends won’t hesitate to kill is pushed to do so. Needless to say, on a scale of one to ten, the danger level of this situation will, at least, be a solid eleven. Remember plan one, look out for each other, and if things get too hot for you, run for cover and ask for help. Is that understood?” We said our confirmations. “Okay.”

Scott made his way over to the exit and stepped out. During this, Craig pulled out a phone and unlocked it. He beckoned us all to gather behind him. Carmilla and Kitty flanked his left and right side respectively as I stood to Kitty’s right. Joanna stood behind Craig. We all watched as he opened up The Daily Bugle app.

“That place has an app?” Carmilla commented with disgust.

“Yup,” I confirmed. “We have a lot of things, even ringtones and alarms for cellphones, as well as Daily Bugle supplements.”

“Are those even worth the price tag?” Kitty asked.

“They’re not,” Craig muttered. We all looked at him. He sighed. “They were handing out free samples to college students at NYU. I was there because DJ Veras was working an event and she needed me to help. There were some samples left. Each sample had enough for five days’ worth of supplements. I took three. I started using them. They were… okay, I guess. But with the price they’re asking for and the fact that, according to an article someone wrote, the supplements don’t have as much of the vitamins and minerals they flaunt on the bottle, you’re better off sticking to Centrum or One-A-Day or even a store-brand multivitamin.”

At that, Joanna scoffed. “You’re braver than I am,” she stated as she shook her head. “Those supplements look sketchier than the pills advertised on porn sites.” She then smirked. “…Do you know if those were worth the price, Craig?”

Craig tilted his head up and glared at her. “…Now sis…” This prompted us to laugh before we looked back at the screen. Craig tapped the screen a few times with his finger, bringing up current programming. From what I could tell, some host… Bill Price, I think… was interviewing this senator from Massachusetts. I didn’t get a chance to know what they were talking about because a “Breaking News” graphic flashed across the scene. The camera cut to J. Jonah Jameson, who was behind his desk.

“We interrupt normal programming with breaking news!” Jonah barked out. “On the line, we have none other than the leader of the group of menaces known as the X-Men, Cyclops!”

After that, a chuckle was heard. “You know, there’s a certain irony here,” Cyclops stated. “You call us X-Men menaces, and yet you helped bankroll Justin Hammer’s initiative against us. I don’t mean to judge, but I think Hammer’s track record speaks for itself.”

“We’re not here to talk about past indiscretions of a man who’s been redeeming himself! What do you want, Cyclops?! Did you call here to waste my time?!”

“As tempting as that would be, no, that’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling because it’s been three days, and I still see that Justin Hammer is still active in New York. It’s a shame, really. I was somewhat hoping he’d listen to reason. But… as they say… a promise is a promise. Justin Hammer wants us? He can find us in Westchester at the Ravencroft Institute – all six of us.”

“Six?!” Jonah yelled out. “I was told there were only four of you?!”

“You were told wrong,” Cyclops replied matter-of-factly. “We grow stronger day by day. Some days ago, we were four. Today, we’re six. I wonder how many of us there will be tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” Jonah shook his head. “Your very hours are numbered! Once Justin hears of this, he’ll send everything he has after you!”

“We’re counting on it. Have a good rest of the day.”

After that, there was a dial tone that was heard. J. Jonah groaned in annoyance before he spoke again.

“You heard it straight from the mouth of that menace! To all of the degenerates who support the X-Men, cherish them while they last!”

At that that, point, Craig closed the app before he handed the phone to Kitty. Kitty phased her hand through the phone, causing it to short circuit.

“It’s a good thing I stay with a burner phone,” Craig commented with a shake of his head. During this time, Scott walked back inside. He took in a breath before he looked at all of us.

“We won’t have much time,” he stated. “Everyone, get suited up.”

After we made our way to the top floor, we did just that, putting on our outfits after getting our coms in our ears. I donned the Black Dahlia Armor. Craig was dressed in the new armor MJ and I created for him, which he dubbed The All- American. Kitty changed into her black spy suit. Scott dressed himself in his swat style uniform. Joanna wore the same outfit she had on when we invaded the base. Carmilla was donning a skin tight blackish green suit that left her defined abs exposed. While her right sleeve was short, her left sleeve was long, disappearing underneath her gauntlet. On her feet were grey boots that reached halfway up her shins. On her right hand was a glove that matched the color of her suit. On each of her shoulders were black polymer pads. Over the bottom half of her face was a black gaiter mask.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in this suit,” Craig commented as he walked up to her and nudged his shoulder against hers. “You look great in it, as always.”

“You’re only saying that because you like looking at my derriere,” Carmilla teased as she looked at him.

At that, Craig chuckled. “You’re right.” He then looked at the ceiling in mock-thought. “I might even be a bit distracted when things go down.”

Carmilla turned and fully faced him. “So is that’s the excuse you’re going to use when I have to bail you out when things get hot?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just want your company.”

“Oh get a room you two,” Kitty stated in mock annoyance as she adjusted her own mask. She smiled. “But seriously, it’s great to see you in your old costume. It feels like the good ol’ days.” She chuckled. “I can’t wait until we expand, though.”

“Yeah, about that,” Joanna interjected. We all looked at her. She took a moment to double check the magazine before she inserted into her rifle. She then lifted her head and looked straight at Scott. She dropped her rifle, letting it hang from the strap that was over her shoulder. “So, six X-Men, huh?”

“To be honest, I was going to ask you to join after this was over,” he admitted. Even though his mask was on, something told me he had on a sheepish expression. “…Sometimes, my propensity for speeches can get the better of me.”

Joanna sighed. “You know, I don’t whether to be touched by the fact that you want me on the team, or mad that you put a target on my back.”

Scott tilted his head. “I’m hoping more of the former, but I can make it up to you if it is the latter.”

Joanna smirked. “Oh you will.” She walked up to Scott slowly. The rest of us looked at each other curiously before we looked back at Joanna. Once she reached Scott, she brought her hands up and grabbed the bottom of his mask. Scott stiffened up a bit, but didn’t make another move. Slowly, Joanna peeled the mask upward until his lips were exposed. “Consider this me calling it even.” She leaned forward and placed her lips against his. As the two kissed, Carmilla, Craig, Kitty, and I exchanged high fives. The kiss lasted for some seconds before Joanna pulled away. She fixed Scott’s mask before she smiled. “Consider me an X-Man. Oh, and by the way, we are now a thing.”

Scott didn’t say a word, merely nodding in response.

“Well would you look at that,” Craig teased. “Joanna got my man speechless!”

Joanna chuckled as she turned to face us. “I tend to have that effect on people.”

“I can’t wait to tell the rest of The American Idiots about this,” I stated. “I know they’re going to have a field day.”

“They’re not allowed to come to the apartment anymore,” Scott grumbled, causing all of us to laugh. He took in a breath. At that moment, I knew things were going to take a turn for the serious. “We’re using codenames from here on out. I don’t expect us to have more than an hour before Justin, Scorpion, and their forces to arrive. We all know our respective specialties. Be smart and stick to the plan. But in case there is a breakdown… well, I have contingencies.”

“Heard,” Frenzy replied.

So, we made our way up to the top floor and into the headmaster office. I looked at the sandbag barriers that backed the tungsten paneling. Metal paneling aside, it was no different from the sandbag barriers I’ve seen in war movies.

“Doesn’t this kind of remind you of Fallout New Vegas?” Carmilla asked as she walked up to my right side. “Like, when you walk up to the NCR bases?”

“It does Car-” I quickly closed my mouth, reminding myself that we were using codenames. “I’m sorry, are you going by Scorpion for your codename?”

“Well, I will when we knock off the knockoff.” She paused for a moment as if she realized what she just said. She then sighed as she shook her head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t say that. But, for now, just call me Greenie. Calling me Scorpion while we’re fighting Scorpion is just going to confuse everyone.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll call you Greenie.” I tilted my head. “Who gave you that name?”

“One of the people who trained me,” she replied. “She’s a SHIELD agent by the name of Melinda May. She looks tough on the outside – and believe me, she’s not one to mess with – but she’s really cool. We still keep in touch. I even saw her when I met with SHIELD later on. She told me if I ever cut ties with everyone again, she’ll kill me. Of course, that’s her way of saying she was worried about me.” She chuckled.

“So you’re still a part of SHIELD?”

“Yup, but I’m suspended without pay for three months.” Greenie sighed. “It’s a good thing Frictor is covering my would-be share of the rent. I owe him a lot.”

“You really don’t,” Frictor called out. Greenie and I turned towards him, seeing that he was leaned up against a wall. “I told you, it’s the least I can do since I have as much of a hand in you cutting ties with us as you do.” He then tilted his head briefly. “But if you’re so bent out of shape over it, then just take me out to dinner or something. It’s all I ask for.”

Greenie chuckled. “Sure thing,” she replied. “I’ll even throw in a backrub.”

Frictor tilted his head. “…Now you know dang well what that does to me.”

Greenie put her hand on her chest as she feigned innocence. “Oh do I?”

At that, Frictor scoffed as he shook his head. “All I’m saying is don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“Seriously, do you two need a room?” Frenzy called out.

I couldn’t help but chuckle before I walked away and sat on one of the barriers.

After waking up Edith, I spent the time watching the feed of the Spider Cameras I placed. It was about an hour until we saw something. During that hour, different X-Men came and sat with me, conversing with me on different things. Frenzy and Cyclops checked up on me, making sure I was okay. Shadowcat came by and asked me if I ever heard of this island nation known as Genosha before she went on and told me about it. Greenie came by and asked if MJ and I would be down for a double date with her and Frictor in the future. Finally, Frictor joined me and…

“Okay, can I be real with you for a moment?” he asked.

I turned my head towards him and raised an unseen eyebrow. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I didn’t expect someone like you to be Spider-Man.”

I scoffed as I shook my head. “Is it because I’m a teenager?”

“No, no…” He trailed off for a moment. He then nodded. “Well, yes, but that’s not the main reason. It’s just that… You’re from Queens, you got that suit, and you help a lot of poor people…” He trailed off again before he tilted his head briefly. “I just thought you were black.”

I slumped off of the barrier and down to my knees in an extremely slow and dramatic manner as I kept my eyes on Frictor. “DUUUUUUUUUDE!!!!”

Frictor held his hands up defensively. “I’m just sayin’! I’m just, sayin’!”

I laughed as I shook my head. I slowly stood up, about ready to respond. That was when Edith spoke up.

“Spider-Man, I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I picked up something on the Spider-cameras near the gate,” Edith informed. I quickly stiffened up.

“Would you kindly show me the best shot?” I asked. As I said this, I beckoned to everyone to gather around me. A feed from one of the cameras took over my HUD. I saw it – a whole swarm of vehicles at the gate. The vehicles in questions were black Hummer EVs. There was a man in tactical gear using a bolt cutter to deal with the chain that held the gate closed. After that, he pushed the gates open before he entered one of the Hummers. After that, the hummers drove in. Slowly, but surely, the front lawn was taken over by the vehicles. “They’re here.”

“Oh, awesome!” Frictor exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. “I was getting tired of waiting for them!”

I kept on watching the feed. The doors of the Hummers opened, and men in tactical gear filed out. I thought that was all who was going to file out of the vehicles until I spotted on particularly large vehicle. One of the doors opened. My eyes went wide.

Justin Hammer was on the scene.

“Guess who’s here?” I said aloud.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Hammer has made an appearance,” Cyclops commented.

“Yup!” I watched as Hammer made his way to the front of the crowd. During this, I heard the sound of helicopter rotors. Using Edith, I had the spider aim its camera upward. That’s when I saw The Daily Bugle Helicopter. I sighed as I shook my head. “The Daily Bugle is on the scene, too.”

“I’m so shocked,” Shadowcat deadpanned.

I had the spider aim its camera back at Hammer. He was speaking to who I assumed was the head of these forces. After some time, the leader turned and addressed the gathered men. After a few minutes, the forces moved out, splitting up into smaller groups as they spread out over the premises. There was one group headed towards the main building.

“Edith, how many people are headed towards us right now?”

“Counting now,” Edith stated. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again. “A group of 80.”

“There’s 80 heading for us right now while the others are searching the other buildings.”

At that, Frictor scoffed. “Oh that’s cute,” he laughed out as he clapped his hands together three times. “They think that’s enough.”

“It’s even cuter that they think all 80 of them are going to reach us,” Shadowcat added.

“Don’t get cocky,” Cyclops warned. “This isn’t The Friends of Humanity we’re dealing with. These men most likely have military training. Letting your guard down even a little bit can spell disaster for you.”

“We already know, Cyclops,” Greenie assured. “We’re just putting on a brave face.” She sighed. “We’re all nervous, aren’t we?”

“I know I am,” I admitted. “But we got this, though.”

“Yeah we do,” Frenzy agreed. “But, Spidey, do me a favor.”

I tilted my head. “What’s that?”

“When we face Scorpion, please don’t pull that anime protagonist ‘I’ll take him on by myself’ bullshit.”

“I won’t,” I assured.

“You bet your behind you won’t,” Cyclops reinforced. “Even if you wanted to, we won’t let you. We’re X-Men. We may not kill, but we don’t fight fair. When Scorpion appears, we’re jumping him the first chance we get.”

“True story,” Greenie added.

“…I like being an X-Man already,” Frenzy stated with a wide smile.

I smiled at the group. Internally, a part of me wondered how things would have turned out if they were in my life earlier. Maybe I would have been able to take down Toomes easier. Maybe I would’ve taken down Mysterio before he could ruin my life with that doctored footage. But, as they say, better late than never, right? What mattered was that they were in my life now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I was taken out of my thoughts when Edith spoke.

“Spidey, you received a message from MJ,” she announced.

“Oh?” I responded, caught off guard a bit. “What does it say?”

“‘Kick their asses’. Should I compose a response?”

Underneath my mask, I smiled. “Yes. Tell her I said ‘Gladly’.”

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philtstone · 2 years

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Peter/Michelle, 12

#12 kisses on the corner of their mouth

"Michelle," Ned says, "this is awesome. Specifically in that way people in psychological thrillers fall apart at the seams and go overboard awesome. Are you turning into the morally grey main character of a psychological thriller?"

"Oh, God," Michelle groans, and hides her face in her hands. "This was a bad idea."

"I mean ... it is very thorough," says Cindy. She's visiting from MIT's Dorm B; Betty is on video call because this was supposed to be a girls' night, even though Ned is also here, using her desk because his has been unilaterally overtaken by his could-be-a-serial-killer-roommate, but now. Now. Michelle's Wall has been discovered.

Or rather, Michelle spilled the beans to Betty while Cindy was in the bathroom, and Betty can't keep a secret to save her life.

Michelle gestures wildly to the corkboard of newsclippings, red string, scribbled highlighter and one very blurry cryptic photo of a guy crossing the street in the snow, which was until very recently hidden behind the clothes rack they use to make up for zero closet space.

"I'm not insane, okay! Let's just drop it."

"No, no no no," says FaceTime Betty practically. "This is good stuff. This is real stuff. Have you talked to a psychic? I really think that could help."

"He like, comes to the ice cream place, right?" says Ned, obviously, over his Eng 101 notes. "We work there every break. Just ask him what his name is."

"No," hisses Michelle, thinking of Ned's roommate. "No. I'm not a weird serial killer, Ned. I need to figure this out before I make contact."

"Uh, MJ," Ned says, "you've already made contact. Dude comes in every Friday and gets the same coffee order to go."

"Aaargh!" Michelle fists her hands in her hair. "I know! I know, and it's killing me because I feel like an insane person but I swear I've met him somewhere before!"

Only an insane person would have very lucid dreams about sitting atop buildings with the nameless guy who gets coffee at the sad Sugar and Scoops Michelle and Ned work at whenever they go back to New York. Only an insane person, Michelle maintains somewhat hysterically and in the privacy of her own mind, would feel very strongly, in like, the marrow of her proverbial bones or whatever, that she knows what it feels like to kiss this guy on the corner of the mouth.

Not even the middle! The corner! Who has dejavu about mouth corners?

As if reading her mind, Betty says, considering the muppet-like figure in the cryptid photo, "Y'know, hes kinda cute."

"Oh, definitely super kissable," says Cindy, with characteristic verve.

"You should ask him out Michelle."

Michelle walks the two steps to the pitiful mattress Dorm A rooms call beds and covers her face with a pillow.

"Hypothesis," Ned offers, after a moment of silence, "He looks like a Pedro. Don't you think?"

"Seriously?" says FaceTime Betty. "You want our Michelle to be having prophetic dreams -- possibly of the sexual nature --"

"Betty!" cries Cindy, with once more characteristic reproach,

"-- about a boy named Pedro?"

"What? Some people are called Pedro, Betty."

Michelle clutches the pillow tighter to her face and screams.

#AFTER MANY MOONS #basically what happened is that zainab sent me this and then i saw no way home and was too sad to write it #until now. when i apparently discovered how the make no way home less sad for myself #my writing #touch prompt meme #michelle jones #ned leeds #betty brant #peter parker #michelle x peter #mj x peter #spiderman #spiderman: no way home #marvel #cindy moon

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thekaiqueen · 2 years

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Ned: Betty, I'm sad.

Betty, holding her arms out for a hug: It's going to be okay.

Peter: MJ, I'm sad too

MJ, nodding: mood.

#incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect mcu #peter parker #ned leeds #betty brant #mj watson #michelle jones #spideychelle #spiderman #betty x ned #bettyned

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hugs4lifesworld · 6 months

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Never mind - Peter Parker x Stark! reader

Former relationship between peter and reader but it has been bad since Tony died. Reader is friends with Flash and met him before Peter from galas, charity things, and other events. In some ways he knows her better than anyone else. Very little of Peter.

"I can't believe you're really making me go." I grumble to Happy as he half drags, half guides me into the airport carrying my luggage given my refusal to even going on this trip. Happy having heard my complaints, bargaining, and weak threats the whole way continues to ignore me which he has done for the past half hour after simply arguing "Maybe this will be good for you." We make it to the large group of teenagers I call classmates where I am finally released only to be surrounded by my friends. As they chatter away I catch a glimpse of Happy speaking to the two teachers who are chaperoning before leaving. I roll my eyes and sit down beside Michelle knowing I won't get far if I even try to escape.

Before long the last member of the class comes and we go through to our gate. After that we board our plane. Out of habit I follow Flash to the first class area where we both have seats reserved, should we choose to use them. I laugh at him when the stewardess takes the drink from him when Michelle rats that he was blipped and therefore not 21. The two of us are instructed to sit with the rest of the class until after take off. We comply and I end up by Brad and Flash is a few rows back. In the seat across from me is Michelle with Betty beside her. The crew begins their safety demonstration and then we take off.

Flash and I decide to stay with the rest of the class for the time being and he sleeps while I continue the book I have been reading. Roughly half way into the flight I finish the book and am not tired. The cabin crew is also making rounds, checking on everyone so it would be pointless to even attempt to sleep. Looking around the cabin I catch Peter's eyes already looking at me, feelings I have been pushing down bubble and overwhelm me and I have to rip my eyes away. Sighing, I divert my gaze onto the screen in front of me so they don't gravitate back to Peter. 'Might as well' I think before grabbing the headphones and putting them on. I reach forward flicking on the screen and pushing the listening option. Scrolling through I find only audiobooks about The Avengers, some older books about Steve and one on the blip.

I simultaneously feel angry, annoyed, and get a lump in my throat and my eyes burn. Quickly switching to the in-flight movies I hope and pray that it's something different. I quickly find that they are different but this is worse, so much worse.

All I see are "documentaries" on my dad. My breath hitches and the more I scroll through the less I seem to be able to catch my breath. I am startled when I feel a hand on my arm and look to see it's Flash giving me a questioning look and I nod. I know he doesn't believe me but he, thankfully, lets it go for now. I switch the screen off, practically ripping the headphones off. Michelle looks over at me while Betty gasps "Y/n!" causing several members of our class including Brad, Ned, and Peter to look at me which I try my best to ignore.

Just then a stewardess walks by, "Excuse me." I say to the blonde woman who has an incredibly fake smile plastered on her face. I think I catch the end of an eye roll as she turns to me answering, "Yes, how can I help you?". "Do you happen to have any other movies?" I ask her hoping I don't have too much emotion in my voice. Because Ned, Flash, MJ, and Peter are all focused on me but I can tell I failed. "I'm afraid we don't, Miss. I'm sorry." she answers and goes to walk away "How about a book then?" I ask her. With a barely concealed sigh she answers "I'll check." and she leaves. She is back in a few minuets with 3 books. Glancing at the spines I read the titles. Once again they are about the Avengers and the blip, Steve, and my father. This time I don't bother to hide anything, with a heavy sigh and a seemingly exasperated tone I ask. "Do you have anything that's NOT about Tony Stark? A magazine, anything?" I stress. "No, Ma'-" I interrupt "Fine, a sleeping pill then?" I ask snapping at her trying to keep from crying. she scoffs and straitens wiping the fake grin from her plump red lips and narrowing her brown eyes at me. "What is your problem?" She questions me and I shoot back "I just don't want to read or listen to anything about Tony Stark!" I exclaim thankful the two teachers are sleeping and I easily ignore everyone else.

She gapes at me looking indignant "How dare you. Tony Stark was an amazing man who sacrificed everything." she practically yells at me. "Never mind." I huff out sitting back in my seat "I don't want to hear about it. Okay?" I tell her in a clipped tone.

"Tony Stark was the founder and leader of the Avengers! He housed S.H.E.I.L.D. He was an incredibly selfless man who died for the world." She raises her voice slightly becoming more frantic as she speaks. I only hold my tongue for a few moments before I burst. Jumping to my feet "Okay. First, he was not the founder of the Avengers. That was Nick Fury who came up with the original idea and Phil Coulson and Maria Hill helped execute said idea. Second, He was not the leader. Steve Rogers is," I pause "Was. Captain America was the leader. Tony did however pay for everything. Third, He never housed S.H.E.I.L.D, only gave former agents new jobs. Finally, He was an incredibly selfish man." I list off, finishing emotionally and scornfully before rushing away only barely taking notice of Flash angrily send her away to get the head steward and not come back.

Leaning on the sink I heave, trying to catch my breath and not let the sobs out but one escapes.

Then another...

And another.

Crap.

Next thing I know I'm in the hallway between coach and first class and Peter is kneeling in front of me telling me to breathe. The black at the edges of my vision slowly recedes and I can hear Flash shouting at who I assume is the head stewardess. I gather myself and push Peter away and stand. "I'm fine. You can go." I tell him making my way back to Flash and our seats to gather my things before he can say anything. "You and your staff should read the manifest." Flash states as I shoulder my bag. "I'm sorry, sir, but your friend was belligerent and Mr. Stark was a hero." She says trying to dismiss the issue. "If you had read the manifest you would have seen that Y/N Stark was on this flight. If anyone has the right to be selfish, it's her." He bites to her and snatches up his bag, I assume from the sound.

The last thing I hear before passing through the curtain to first class is "She is his daughter after all." and him stomping after me. Throwing ourselves in our new plush seats we sigh and Flash silently reaches over putting his hand on mine and we sit that way in silence for a while until he squeezes my hand. "What's going on in that head of yours?" He asks. My first response is a simple shrug but he gives me a look and I can't help sighing again, "I just still can't believe they made me come on this stupid trip." I tell him. "Maybe they thought it would be good for you." He tells me. "Yeah, right." I reply with a scoff.

"They get five years with him and I ... lost five. Sure, I'm not the only one in the world. No one else got blipped, came back, had to fight, and then watch their dad sacrifice himself." Feeling the tickle of the tears I angrily wipe my face and sniff before continuing, "Then I go home and find my dad married Pepper, which is great and I love her, she is the only mom I've ever known and on top of it I have a little sister." Flash just lets me rant. "Then, I have to go to work helping everyone else. I didn't even get to hug him or tell him I love him." I finally burst and Flash pulls me into a hug, holding me as I cry. Eventually succumbing to my emotions and exhaustion and falling asleep in one of my best friends arms.

A few hours later I'm lightly shaken awake by Flash so he can tell me we will be landing soon. I sit up staring at the floor before whispering "Thank you." to Flash who squeezes my shoulder as if to say "no problem" while holding out my make up bag out to me in the other. I raise an eyebrow at him and he simply said "Parker brought it.". I grab it with a huff and stand knowing I'm going to have to talk to him ... eventually. I make my way to the restroom I had previously tried to gain control in with a new determination but find the door locked. I stand and wait for only a few seconds before the door swings open to reveal Peter. Once he sees me his eyes widen and he slams the door. Okay I think and see Brad coming so I decide to try another restroom to fix my make up so when we land I will appear to be all together, just in case.

It only takes me about seven minuets to redo my makeup and make sure my hair is presentable. Once I finish that I go back to my seat, buckle my seat belt, and wait for the plane to land. "Your teachers want you to disembark the plane with the rest of your class." The head steward appears and instructs Flash and I and I simply roll my eyes while Flash gives a simple nod and she disappears.

"So, why are you pissed at Parker?" Flash asks as the plane slowly descends. "I'm not." I say. "That's bullshit and you know it." He shoots back. With a sigh I try again, "I'm not pissed at him. Why do you think that?". He gives me a look and answers "You two were good together. As much as I hate it. You were happy and now you'll barely even look at him." He points out. "We both have a lot of things to work out ... with my dad and stuff. You know the internship." I shrug. "So talk to him." "It's not that easy." I answer. He just looks at me as we land on the tarmac.

The plane finally comes to a stop and Flash and I join our class to disembark. Somehow I end up by Peter, MJ, Ned, and Betty. It is quickly revealed that Betty and Ned are dating. After a few awkward interactions between peter and I, the whole class exits the airport. With that our trip officially begins.

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #mcu #mcu spiderman #michelle jones #ned leeds #flash thompson #spiderman no way home #quentin beck

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joshleyson · 10 months

Text

summer 2023 on film

El Nido + Puerto Princesa

shot entirely using Fujifilm Simpleace 35 mm camera

☾

“Some of the earliest memories I can recall are of my mother instructing me to always “save ten percent of yourself.” What she meant was that, no matter how much you thought you loved someone or thought they loved you, you never gave all of yourself. Save 10 percent, always, so there was something to fall back on. “Even from Daddy, I save,” she would add. Stop crying! Save your tears for when your mother dies.”

- Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner

This was a part of my 10%. To be able to disconnect. To breathe. To try to heal and maybe, that would be the last thing that can save me.

So happy to finally go back to the majestic islands of Palawan for the third time after a year, this time specifically in El Nido (and a side trip in Puerto Princesa). The last time I’ve been to El Nido was 5 years ago when I flew back to Manila with a copy of my leg X-ray and prescription meds after my first vehicular accident. But this time, amidst the Betty super typhoon, I and my friends were still able to pull it off safely and enjoyed wandering from one island to another, relaxing on the beach for hours, and having lots of mango shakes! This trip I also finished which I feared to be my Book of the Year which is that quote from above. Michelle Zauner literally took me on a surprisingly, meaningful journey which was a great accompaniment for my 6-day vacation trip. Also, I’m planning to compile my “recent book list” of the year just to break the usual “travel beach photos” trend on this page (I know 😅). I still have a lot to post from this trip but this dump of photos captured on a Fujifilm summarizes the beauty of nature and the summer season that’s so real, quaint, and frozen in time, but will always hit me with a wave of comfort and familiarity.

Goodbye, summer. See you next year ☀️

🎥 watch the short mood film here:

FOLLOW ME:

Instagram/TikTok/Twitter: joshleyson

(Music by GIVEON. All rights belong to him and his publishers. For personal and non-commercial use only. Stream his great music on Spotify and Apple Music.)

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fandomnerd9602 · 9 months

Note

male reader x Michelle Jones from Spider-Man

Michelle notices reader and Betty is spending more time together.

Michelle growls, seeing Y/N talking with Betty...

Y/N: see you later Brandt! MJ you alright?

Michelle: i'm fine!

Y/N: you don't seem fine. I mean you are fine and-

Michelle: oh why don't you go tell your new girlfriend that!

Y/N: who? Betty? I was just asking her if she could cover for me while I take you out for your birthday

Michelle: oh you...wait. really?!

#zendaya #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #michelle jones #michelle jones x reader #mj #mj watson #mary jane watson #spider man

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angelofthenight · 9 months

Text

Playlist for Last Man Alive

( This just a playlist of random songs that go with/relate to my fic,, if u think of a song that u think should be here feel free to comment it and I’ll add it! Songs in green are the ones that suite the most perfectly )

Closer - Nine Inch Nails

Don’t Blame Me - Taylor Swift

Boyfriend - Dove Cameron

Dear John TV - Taylor Swift

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things - Taylor Swift

Never Ever Getting Rid Of Me - Waitress

Meant to Be Yours - Heathers

Karma - Taylor Swift

Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley

Lotta True Crime - Penelope Scott

Invisible String - Taylor Swift

Dead Girl Walking Reprise - Heathers

Jealous Girl - Lana Del Rey

Haunted TV - Taylor Swift

An Unhealthy Obsession - The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

Love Story cover - Sarah Cothran

You’re On Your Own, Kid - Taylor Swift

Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell

Gods & Monsters - Lana Del Rey

The Beast in Me - Bonnie Pointer

Right Where You Left Me - Taylor Swift

Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez

Thriller - Michael Jackson

Oblivion - Grimes

Yo Girl - Heathers

Always Forever - Cults

Hey Lover - The Daughters of Eve

Get Out Of My Head - Tryhardninja

Tag, You’re It - Melanie Martinez

I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Tonight You Belong To Me - Patience & Prudence

Cool for the Summer - Demi Lovato

Pacify Her - Melanie Martinez

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

Knee Socks - Arctic Monkeys

Christmas Kids - Roar

You Don’t Own Me - Lesley Gore

You Don’t Own Me - SAYGRACE

Illicit Affairs - Taylor Swift

Smoke and Mirrors - Jayn

Enchanted TV - Taylor Swift

Little Girls - Annie 2014

Hellfire - Hunchback of Notre Dame

Call Me Crazy - Gabbie Hanna

MONTERO - Lil Nas X

Strawberry Shortcake - Melanie Martinez

You Belong With Me TV - Taylor Swift

Senpai Notice Me - Random Encounters

I Can Hear The Bells - Hairspray

All Men Are Pigs - Studio Killers

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

Take A Hint - Victorious

Play Date - Melanie Martinez

Our Love is God - Heathers

Better Than Revenge TV - Taylor Swift

Ready or Not - Bridgit Mendler

Teacher’s Pet - Melanie Martinez

Norman fucking Rockwell - Lana Del Rey

August - Taylor Swift

Cake - Melanie Martinez

The Archer - Taylor Swift

Bloody Mary - Lady Gaga

Clean TV - Taylor Swift

Hopelessly Devoted To You - Grease

Final Girl - Graveyardguy

My Tears Ricochet - Taylor Swift

This Little Girl - Cady Groves

Obsessed With You - The Orion Experience

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve - Taylor Swift

Lay All Your Love On Me - Abba

EVIL - Melanie Martinez

I’m Still Standing - Elton John

Using You - Mars Argo

All I Want For Christmas Is You cover - Chase Holfelder

Betty cover - Chase Holfelder

Michelle - Sir Chloe

You Are My Sunshine - Jimmie Davis

The Wolf - SIAMES

Obsession - Animotion

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! - Abba

Head Over Heels - Tears For Fears

The Point of No Return - Phantom of the Opera

You’re the Inspiration - Chicago

I’m Just Ken - Barbie

Don’t You Want Me - The Human League

I Want You (She’s So Heavy) - The Beatles

#reader insert #paul dano riddler #dano!riddler #paul dano #the riddler x reader #the riddler #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #yandere edward nashton #yandere riddler #yandere riddler x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman

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blurredcolour · 1 year

Text

If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Five

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: A newly single, and rather intoxicated, Austin lets slip his real thoughts about you, his darling Betty.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Residual Reader Injury, Alcohol Consumption, More Parties, More Awards Ceremonies, More Screenings, Michelle Yeoh Is an Amazing Human, Threats of Violence, Ongoing Stalker/Obsession Issues, Mature/Explicit Themes [described oral – f receiving, described face sitting, overheard masturbation – m performing, imagined manual stimulation – f receiving] – 18+ Only.

Credit: Greg Williams

Word Count: 4147

As the cabin light dimmed on the aircraft, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, you tried to shift subtly as the ache awakened in the muscles of your back. The flight attendants had just cleared away dinner and the passengers around you in first class were reclining their seats to settle in for some sleep while the plane continued its progress towards London. You glanced across the aisle between yourself and Austin, glad to see him sinking lower as he, too was preparing for rest.

He seemed a little less hollow, his face somewhat less gaunt, his eyes less swollen from a constant stream of tears. It had only been three days, but he appeared to have a better handle on his emotions, which you knew would be important for him to survive BAFTA weekend followed immediately by a screening in New York and another in Los Angeles. The close of the voting period for the Academy Awards, March 7, seemed years away at this point.

Only slightly closer than the end of this flight, if your back was going to continue to put up this much protest. Trey had applied a generous amount of topical analgesic before you’d left the house, which you’d also followed up with some oral painkillers. A glance at your watch revealed you still had thirty minutes before you could take another dose. Gritting your teeth, you pressed the recline button on your seat to lay it flat before turning to stretch out on your stomach and relieve the pressure on the throbbing points on your back.

Laying down with your face at the opening of your divider so you could keep an eye on Austin, you slid in one headphone, keeping the ear closest to him free, and put on something soothing to try and distract yourself until it you could take more medication.

“You keep frowning like that and you’ll get wrinkles.” Austin’s soft whisper, accompanied by tips of his fingers gently trying to ease the furrow in your brow, had your eyes flashing open to see him kneeling in front of you.

You snorted once and shook your head. “Wrinkles are the least of my worries…” You whispered back.

“You’re in pain aren’t you…” He frowned and you nodded slowly in reply.

“My next dose is soon; I’ll be ok then.”

“You have a cream, don’t you? Can I help?” He asked earnestly.

“I…” You hesitated, at war with yourself over the propriety of having your protectee rubbing cream into your back versus the relief you knew it would bring, before nodding slowly.

He leaned in closer to whisper directly into your ear. “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

The way his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and his warm breath cascaded over your skin, raised goosebumps and shivers in their wake – you knew immediately you had made the wrong decision. But he was already halfway down the aisle, sliding into the bathroom on the right side of the plane. You counted to thirty before pulling the cream from your carry-on and counted to another thirty before following, trying to look nonchalant about the clandestine rendezvous.

Opening the door slowly, he smiled warmly as your eyes met and you slid in, quickly shutting and locking the door behind you.

“I’m really sorry to ask this of you I…”

“Shh, Betty you’re in pain because of me.” His long fingers gently plucked the cream from your grasp, and he gestured with the other hand for you to turn around.

You were pleased that you’d opted for something comfortable in-flight and reached backed to pull the back of your workout shirt up and over your head, leaving your front covered. You heard him sigh softly as the now bluish marks were revealed to his eyes.

“It’s a good thing, they’re making their way through the rainbow…” You looked to him in the mirror and his eyes met yours skeptically before he opened the small tube of cream and gently worked a dollop onto the bruise on your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly at the heat of his touch on your skin, and the serious look on his face reflected in the mirror of the small bathroom. The hand holding your gathered shirt to your chest clenched into a fist as you watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips parted in concentration and you turned your head away from the mirror, the image of him accompanied by the electric feel of him touching you just too much to process as your heart hammered in your ears. He was thorough, ensuring that each of your bruises were well covered before he put the cap back on the cream and turned to wash his hands. You could not help but wonder if the sensation in his fingertips was at all affected.

As you struggled a little to redress yourself whilst also keeping your chest covered, you felt him grasp the bottom hem of your shirt to help you ease the fabric back onto your back without undoing all his hard work.

“Thank you…” You nodded softly and he squeezed your good shoulder before stepping back to let you return to your seat first.

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, smiling though you didn’t quite have the courage to meet his eyes lest he see the fact that you could still feel the ghost of his fingers on your skin, and calmly made your way back to your seat. You lay down, sliding in your one headphone, and waited quietly for him to resume his seat across the aisle from you. The brush of his fingertips across your cheek as he passed sent a shiver through your body and you swallowed thickly as you watched him settle into his seat.

After it was finally time for your next set of painkillers, you were able to doze lightly. You’d debated the need to be alert on flights with the entire team, and Austin, but you despite their arguments to the contrary, you still could not allow yourself to sleep deeply. Still felt the need to lay eyes on him every so often. You’d seen Red Eye, after all. He did not need a pen to the trachea on BAFTA weekend.

The lights slowly flickered on inside the cabin as only an hour remained in the flight and you watched Austin take his bag to the washroom to change before doing to same yourself, re-emerging in your typical dress and blazer, just in case the paparazzi were waiting at the airport.

Refreshingly, the arrivals longue was remarkably quiet this time, and you were greeted by only the domestic security team and escorted to the hotel suite. You were practically dragging your feet by the time you made it inside and turned to Austin to check if you could catch a real nap before the parties for the nominees that night.

“Betty, go to bed.” He smirked before you could even open your mouth. “The lads will look after me, we’ve got five hours before wardrobe comes.”

You somehow managed a nod and shuffled into your bedroom, stripping your clothes, before falling into the sultry embrace of 1200 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. The alarm you’d somehow managed to set before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep was a rude and bewildering experience. You cast your eyes about the unfamiliar, dimly lit room, barely able to comprehend where you were before you heard Austin laughing warmly through the wall and it all came rushing back. You hauled yourself from the bed and dug out your outfit for the evening, using the small handheld steamer from the closet to release the wrinkles of the long-haul flight, before showering and dressing.

You emerged looking quite human, particularly in comparison to your earlier appearance, to a sitting room filled with people focused on perfecting Austin’s look for the evening. And perfect he did look in the charcoal grey pinstripe suit with a barely buttoned-up shirt the colour of a stormy sea. The way he glowed after undergoing the same travel conditions as you was utterly unfair but you chose not to dwell on it.

“There you are, darling Betty. Feeling better?” He grinned cheekily as a leggy brunette leaned in perhaps a little closer than necessary to perfect the curl of his hair.

“Yes, Mr. Butler, thank you very much for your concern.” You smiled professionally but your voice was tight – wound around the spike of jealousy jammed into the hollow of your throat. You coughed a little, trying to clear away whatever brought that unnecessary emotion on, and grabbed one of the sandwiches on the provided tray to fuel up for what promised to be a long evening.

Eventually, the cluster of attractive stylists were satisfied that the innately gorgeous man was presentable and filed out of the suite before the pair of you headed down to the waiting car.

“Did you actually get a good amount of sleep?” He asked quietly and you nodded with a soft smile.

“I did, yes. Thank you.” You replied earnestly, now that you were…mostly…alone.

He smiled at you warmly as he slid into the car and you took a slow breath before sliding in beside him, wondering why your heart was having trouble settling into its normal rhythm.

The cocktails at Claridge’s and the reception at the National Gallery we fairly standard events, with free-flowing alcohol and a crowd of gorgeous people all eager to congratulate Austin. The private club at 5 Hertford Street was rather unlike anything you had ever seen and teeming with people from wall the wall. Whether it was the sheer amount of humanity, or the time change, you found the entire setting exhausting. Or perhaps it was the mariachi band playing at the front door. Regardless, you dug deep and straightened your protesting back, following Austin into the throng of revellers and down the stairs to a dimly lit room where he was seated for dinner. You found an out-of-the-way place to stand with the other ‘staff’ in attendance and allowed yourself glances around the moody, Parisian atmosphere of the basement nightclub.

The most striking feature was the bust of a kneeling giraffe in the crook on the staircase that had brought you down here, and you barely managed to restrain the urge to shake your head. Truly, this assignment was leading you to the most unexpected of places. After the last course was served, people began to mill about, exploring the various sitting and drawing rooms on the upper floors. You followed Austin quietly, acutely aware of the number of photographers freely milling about in the crowd and doing your utmost to remain out of frame of their shots.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that, in addition to a roaring fire in nearly every room, the club had also turned up the heat to ensure the ladies in their evening wear were comfortable. You, in your blazer, found yourself unbearably hot and stepped into a hallway to slip off your jacket for just a brief moment of respite. You knew the cap sleeves of your dress ensured your back was full covered but immediately felt self-conscious about your arms.

It was at that moment when Michelle Yeoh and her partner Jean Todt were making their way down the hall. You pressed back against the wall, mindful of the framed pictures, but trying to occupy as little space as possible. However, instead of continuing on her way, as most people did around you, she stopped and turned, fixing you with a warm smile.

“You work with Mr. Butler, don’t you…” She asked warmly and you nodded quickly, introducing yourself properly.

“A pleasure to meet you, formally. I’ve been meaning to tell you; your strength and your beauty are not mutually exclusive. That they exist together is a miracle. Take up that space, you beautiful girl.” She beamed at you, squeezing your arm before continuing on her way.

Staring after her, struck utterly speechless, the laughter and chatter of the party blended into a dull hum as your mouth went dry – you wished you could say you at least thanked her for being such a positive influence in your life. In reality, your mouth had opened and closed several times like a slowly dying fish gasping for air until a shoulder bumped into you as someone made their way down the hall, jarring you back into the present.

You quickly glanced back into the room where you had left Austin and swore under your breath to see him vanished. Very professional of you, to get so distracted that you lost your protectee. You did a quick but calm perimeter of the room before heading through the doorway on the opposite end of it – at least somewhat confident he hadn’t passed you in the hallway you had been standing in. You were somewhat impressed by how much the club had emptied in the last thirty minutes or so, only running into a few groups of people before you reached the top of the stairs going down to the basement nightclub.

You paused a moment, glancing at the other hallways that branched from the top landing, trying to think like a tipsy, blonde, tanned, Californian, Adonis…but then you heard his voice, made husky from the glasses of whisky he’d been enjoying but still unmistakable to your ears, drifting up from below. You stepped down a few stairs before freezing at the words that he was speaking, barely audible above the thrum of the music below.

“Oh Betty…” followed by a sigh of a your real name, “the most incredible woman and she’s just so impossibly pretty…and I know I just ended a relationship, way too early for anything serious but I really…really just want her to crush my head like a grape with her muscular thighs while she sits on my face…”

You slapped one hand over your mouth to try and smother the gasp that fell from your numb lips while the other pressed ruthlessly against your chest to try and keep your heart seated beneath your ribs lest it leap right out of your body. The skin of your face and neck felt like it was on fire and you pressed your back against the wall of the staircase, still out of sight of the floor below, as you tried to remind yourself to breathe.

And yet he still kept talking…musing about how sweet you must taste between your thighs, and you were quite certain you might just expire in that stairwell of London’s most exclusive private club and simply add to its mystery and allure. You heard the floorboards creak to your right and snapped your eyes open to see one of the ubiquitous photo-journalists approaching and stiffened, protective instincts kicking in. Personal conundrum aside, you could not let a member of the media hear him go on like this…and going on he still was. You pushed yourself off the wall and let your steps fall heavily on the stairs as you hurried down to find that he’d been extoling on the supposed texture of your cunt to that fucking giraffe.

“Betty!” His face lit up as you came into view, and you raised both eyebrows as he was seeming even more jovial than the last time you’d seen him. “I made a friend!” He reached up to playfully scritch the giraffe’s chin just as the flash went off on the camera.

“I can see that, well done.” You nodded patiently, sliding your jacket back on, feeling the need for a little armor after his words had essentially lain you bare. “What are your thoughts on calling it a night?”

“That, Betty…That is not a bad idea.” He emphasized each word with a shake of his finger, and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent a grin, not wanting to encourage him one bit. No matter how endearing a drunk he was.

He posed for one last shot before you carefully corralled him up the stairs and out to the waiting car. He lay his head against the window and immediately began dozing as the driver took you back to the hotel, making you shake your head fondly…and yet you were remained most keenly aware of the words you had overheard him speaking to his new ‘friend.’

Mercifully, he awoke when the car pulled up at the hotel and made his way up to the suite under his own steam. You wished one another a good night, even though it was most certainly morning even in London, and retired to your respective rooms.

When you awoke in the silent dark just an hour later, you were disoriented and confused. You stayed very still, holding your breath and listening so intently that your ears began to ring faintly, determined to figure out what had woken you up. The rich moan that carried through the wall made you jump, seeming impossibly loud in your state of intense focus. It was quickly followed by a heavy sigh and rhythmic breathing. You jerked away from the wall, shifting to sit at the end of the bed, but your imagination was already betraying you with vivid pictures of those long fingers wrapped around what you just knew must be a generous cock.

A ragged groan carried through the wall and had you shooting to your feet, trying to shake the images from your head violently. You quickly dug through your bag for a pair of ear plugs and slid them in, immediately relaxing as the ambient sound around you faded instantly. You slid back into the bed, trying to settle into the sheets, but the damage had already been done. Your traitorous body wanted only to focus on speculating what it would feel like to have those wicked, elegant fingers caress your quickly dampening folds, only to be licked clean by his pretty pink tongue.

With a soft growl beneath your breath, you threw the duvet from your overheated body and yanked on your workout clothes, determined to channel this insistent energy into something much less problematic. You stepped out of your room and nodded to one of the locally hired guys, muttering something about jet lag before hurrying down to the hotel gym to run yourself into the ground. If you were too tired to be turned on, the problem would go away, right?

You were drenched in sweat, your legs aching fiercely, by the time your body surrendered the last spark of desire that first groan had awoken within you. The sun was also most definitely above the horizon, you noted, as you made you way back to the suite after showering in the gym facilities. Thankfully, you could snag a few hours of rest before red carpet prep began. When you slid out of bed later that afternoon, you winced at the quiver in your legs. You’d, perhaps, overdone it.

Massaging in some of that handy cream, you forced your complaining body through the process of dressing and getting ready, joining a similar scene to yesterday. Austin sat, glowing, the calm eye in a hurricane of preparatory activity around him.

“Hope you got some sleep, Betty, we’re not going to be back here until after breakfast tomorrow.” He teased gleefully and you laughed wryly, somehow managing not to reply honestly.

“Did my best, Mr. Butler.” You found some food and waited patiently again, smiling politely as his guest for the evening, Polly Bennett, arrived.

You rode up front with the driver as Austin and Polly chatted away happily in the back seat, collecting their personal items before they made their way down the red carpet. While Austin went on the win the BAFTA that night, your ability to act as though nothing was irrevocably changed between you two should have secured you several prestigious nominations, if not wins, in your own right. Through the nigh-on twelve hours of BAFTA festivities, including the numerous after-parties where an increasingly drunken Austin insisted on hand-feeding you the rich and rarified foods the attendees were served, you maintained a calm yet friendly professionalism.

Things became somewhat easier after the flight to New York as Ari met the pair of you at the airport. With your firearm and your partner, you felt much more grounded and almost as though you could leave the events of the party and the hotel suite back in London. Almost.

Mournfully, your mind continued to subject you to uninvited images – seductive flashes of naked flesh and faces contorted in ecstasy. Similar to intrusive thoughts, the more you tried not to think them, the more often your brain would conjure them up and trot them out before your consciousness.

Unlike most intrusive thoughts, however, these were not entirely unwanted. Inconvenient, yes. Unprofessional, absolutely. But there was no denying that they were born of a desire that had been solidified by Austin’s overhead words and deeds, and that made it even more difficult to stop them from plaguing you…because did you honestly want them to go away?

As you walked down the hotel hallway that Wednesday, it was quiet, save the exchange of conversation between Kate and Austin as they followed you to another set of interviews booked for the day.

“So, your dad arrives tomorrow?” She asked warmly.

“Yeah, he’s driving it all in one day, says he can make it in seven hours or something…” Austin chuckled fondly.

Pulling out the key card you’d accepted from the front desk clerk, you slid it through the card reader in the door handle, waiting for the small light to turn green before turning the knob to open the door. The first hint that something wasn’t quite right was the smell – putrid and sweet. It made you pause over the threshold and reach for the light switch, wanting to see better before you stepped fully into the room.

Coming around the corner, your eyes were immediately drawn to the vase of flowers with a bowl of fruit at the base on a small table under the window. As you moved closer, you realized that the flowers were dry and wilted, heads pointed towards the ground in surrender to death, and the fruit was in varying states of rot and decay – dark brown spots mixed with clouds of mold and gaping, juicy wounds crawling with maggots. There was an envelope addressed to Austin in suspiciously familiar handwriting slid between the vase and the bowl, with a knife plunged into the warped flesh of an orange to really drive home the point.

“I need a burger.” You said quickly and turned, locking your arm through Austin’s, hauling him from the room, right past Kate’s bewildered face.

The phrase was one that was so benign and born of a joke based on the In-N-Out Burger chain, that the door had almost fully closed behind you before she gasped and hurried out to follow. It had been weeks since the team had chosen the pass phrase for a quick exit, and you did not begrudge her the processing time whatsoever. Austin was silent and rigid at your side, matching you stride for stride as you retrieved your phone from your pocket, calling Ari.

“I need a burger. Back door please.” You left the call active but put the phone in your pocket again, wanting both hands free as you guided the group out the back stairwell to where Ari was just pulling up, ever watchful for threats. You were thankful that you’d taken the time to study the interior of the hotel and map the quickest, quietest exit.

The author of Austin’s threatening letters had been here – could still be here. And you wanted to give her the least amount of opportunity to enjoy her handy work.

Only once Austin was safely in the car did you end the call with Ari, climbing in yourself. As he pulled out to head back home, you heard Kate soothing Austin behind you as you called the detective to inform them that there was another letter and potential weapon left at a hotel room. As your call ended, you heard Kate begin one with the interviewers who were to have met with Austin in that room, your eyes automatically flicking up to the rear-view mirror only to be met with two very solemn and heartbroken blue eyes.

You frowned deeply as he looked crushed and exhausted from being constantly hunted, and guilt flooded you from head to toe as here you were allowing your imagination free rein to objectify the man while he was so obviously suffering.

“I’m sorry, Austin…” You murmured softly and he nodded gently, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before he sank back into his seat. If only he really understood just what you were apologizing for.

Read Part Six

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

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ladysophiebeckett · 7 months

Note

If Michel had never shown up at Ecomoda,how do you think Armando and Betty would have reconciled? Tbh I find it hard to imagine that she would give him another chance while still in Ecomoda and with Marcela around. We know that Marcela and Margarita only resorted to telling Betty the truth to keep Armando from leaving, but they would have probably never done so without that threat looming over them. At this point she also believes he is after Alejandra, turns out his over the top flirting drove her even further away from him. Would the Cuartel tell her that he didn’t do anything with her and that she was gone already without Michel’s presence? With Ecomoda out of debt and Betty refusing to remain the president, would Armando be given another chance by the board committee? I think that in this situation the only way I can see them working out is with Betty out of Ecomoda because it would give them the opportunity to rekindle their romance in a different setting away from the toxicity of the workplace and his family and Marcela (who still had hopes of getting back together with Armando), but curious to know how you think it would have played out.

I'm answering this but I fear I am not answering this, perhaps the way it was expected of me. And I wanna apologize to you, anon, in advance. So. Beware of that.

Before I continue, I want to state that i am using this as an excuse to talk about why canon events are needed and why fics that undo Important Canon Actions fall flat.

Sometimes we as viewers will ask ourselves 'why didnt X character just do (rational action)?' And its because the story needs irrational action\irrational thinking that actually moves the plot forward. We're not looking to solve the plot quickly because that isn't entertaining.

You go into any tiktok comment section that's ysblf related and you will almost immediately see someone call Betty the villain because she chose to have an affair with Armando. But if she doesn't decide to do that, then there's no story. If Betty wasn't naive, if she wasn't so loyal, if she had a reason to be suspicious of Armando--she would quickly put together that he was trying to start an affair with her right after the embargo happened. And if it played out like that, then there would be no room for Betty to grow as a person. If Betty doesn't make this decision then she doesn't change and neither does Armando.

Another example, one that I see in fics a lot is the Cartagena Arc where Armando doesn't get back together with Marcela. Viewers hate that and I get it. So they have him not do it, but they don't take into account why he needs to do that. Armando is a mess and he hasn't put himself together yet, so he goes back to what's easy and familiar. He can't not go back to Marcela just because he's in love with another woman. He needs to end his relationship with Marcela for himself. And that why those kinds of fics fail. Because they're trying to skip a hundred steps of character development.

Now that I've established that, let's get into it:

You asked:

I am first and foremost a romantic and I have to believe that they get together no matter what. But, we're exploring the removal of plot points that push characters into doing things....

We know from canon, before Armando knows of the significance of Michel, that he has a conversation with Mario about getting Betty back. He himself says that he knows it's going to take a long time, and a lot of patience, he knows she's still hurt but that he's going to take the time to show her that he's changed.

Armando here is trying to make a rational choice. He's trying to be normal. He's attempting to give Betty the space she's asked for multiple times.

Again, Michel is not arriving in this situation.

Now we have Betty, who's being tortured by the cuartel, who will not get off her ass about what Armando could be doing and with who. On top of that, she's confused about Armando's actions towards her. His behavior towards her at her lanzamiento disarms her. She wants very badly to believe that his affection is real but she doesn't trust it.

The reason the cuartel is so damn annoying in the last ten episodes or so, is because they need to motivate Betty's desire to leave. Michel showing up with a job offer (plus romantic interest) is Betty's getaway car. If we eliminate Michel's appearance, we are left with an annoyed, unhappy and dissatisfied Betty who's being told by said cuartel--specifically Mariana--that she needs to make a decision. But she's still under the impression that Armando is moving on with his life.

If Michel doesn't show up, Betty and Armando are in limbo. They won't do anything. He's going to leave her alone and she's going stew unhappily in her office. Marcela is still going to be there and the promise Betty made to her will still be in motion. Even if was only Betty using Marcela to keep Armando away from her. (Personally I think that promise is void if Armando dumped her. But I digress.)

All three of them are stuck in Ecomoda Limbo\Hell.

We know that Marcela and Margarita only resorted to telling Betty the truth to keep Armando from leaving, but they would have probably never done so without that threat looming over them.

Yeah, this wouldn't happen at all unless Armando had the motivation to leave. However---I believe in the cuartel. The cuartel saw him show up everyday looking like shit. They don't mention it to Betty when she comes back bc it wasn't a priority. But if they see Betty and Armando in some kind limbo-slow burn hell where Betty is left indecisive....Let's table this for a second, bc I wanna talk about this:

At this point she also believes he is after Alejandra, turns out his over the top flirting drove her even further away from him.

Yes, she does. But he wasn't 'over the top flirting' with her. All he really did (which is the same thing that Betty did with Michel) was walk around Ecomoda with Alejandra. He was seen with her, yes, but he was truly just being friendly and giving her a tour. Was she interested in something more? Yes (So was Michel). Could he have started something with her? Yes (So could Betty with Michel). Does he? (No). Because he's in love with Betty. The Alejandra situation is what motivates Armando to choose Betty. He could try and move on with a clean slate with someone else that doesn't know him or what he did, but he can't and he doesn't want to.

But unfortunately, Betty doesn't know this and it doesn't matter because all she needed was to see them together to make her own hurtful conclusions.

Would the Cuartel tell her that he didn’t do anything with her and that she was gone already without Michel’s presence?

Okay, going back to the cuartel---YES, they would. I believe this in my heart. If they see Betty and Armando in Limbo-Slow Burn Hell and it's been going on for weeks?? Yes, they would tell her the Alejandra thing never happened. Betty wouldn't care, bc she'll say 'if its not her, it'll be someone else'. I think that eventually one of them would mention what Ecomoda was like when she was away but this hinges on someone making a mention of Armando and that would have to motivate Betty's curiosity to know.

Remember that outside the bar when Armando seeks her out, he says 'and all the harm I did to myself'. So Betty would have to be motivated to remember that and wonder it meant. But yes, I think the cuartel would use this information it would just take them awhile.

(Nunca se ponen las pilas a tiempo)

With Ecomoda out of debt and Betty refusing to remain the president, would Armando be given another chance by the board committee?

If Michel never arrived, and Betty and Armando are in Limbo-Slow Burn Hell AND they manage to get Ecomoda out of debt---Armando would still not want the presidency back. Armando's stays on to help Ecomoda bc not only was it his fault, but he couldn't let it all fall on Betty. He even says he had stayed to regain some honor and to support Betty during her presidency. Michel's absence doesn't hinge on that.

Now would the board give him another chance? No. Marcela would be advocating for him and he would refuse it.

If Betty refused it, Armando would ask her to stay. He would talk to her like he talked to her the night of her lanzamiento. And this is where I'm a romantic and can't picture them not ending up together. I think that in this Limbo-Slow Burn Hell scenario, Armando would still offer to leave so that she could stay. If he tried his hardest to show her that he's changed and it still wasn't enough, he would still do what he did in canon except he wouldn't be so dramatic about it.

I think that in this situation the only way I can see them working out is with Betty out of Ecomoda because it would give them the opportunity to rekindle their romance in a different setting away from the toxicity of the workplace and his family and Marcela

Ecomoda is so important. It's like their child.

(They have 3 kids, Ecomoda, the Furby, and Camila).

Okay, jokes aside. Ecomoda is where they fell in love. It's where they met. It's where some of the best and worst things happened to them. It's what keeps them together by force when Betty comes back from Cartagena. Ecomoda is what blurs the lines between them. It's so fundamental to the origins of their romance. I can't see them, in this non Michel arrival scenario, being able to rekindle their relationship without it. If they fell in love during a terrible time for Ecomoda, they can rekindle Limbo-Slow Burn style while getting Ecomoda out of debt.

Marcela being there is not a deterrent because Armando broke up with her and she wouldn't be able to manipulate him. (A visible sign to Betty that he has changed). Yeah, she would beg him to stay as president if Betty were to leave once the company was out of debt and once again he would be like 'Girl, no. It's over.'

If that would be motivation enough for Marcela to tell Betty supporting evidence about his bar time suicide attempts, that's up in the air. We need Margarita's interference for that to happen and I dont think that exists in this Limbo-Slow Burn scenario. I think Betty would have listen to what the curatel saw day to day and then think about what Armando said to her and be brave enough to make a decision on her own. To ask Armando about it and trust that he's telling her the truth.

For Betty it would be a leap of faith.

Unfortunately, in this this Michel-less scenario the diary scene doesn't exist bc Armando doesn't have the motivation to go into her office and look for the photo of them. So there is no him finding out that Betty was in love with him way before the plan. Also, there is no scene where Armando and Mario have their break up friendship fight.

We take Michel's arrival out and the last 9 (long form) episodes fall apart. The plot needs him to motivate certain actions to fall into place. Betty needs a getaway car and Armando needs the motivation to run after her.

So yes, I believe they can still rekindle their relationship (BECAUSE I AM A ROMANTIC) but it would take longer because of inaction.

Again, I apologize if I didn't answer this the way you wanted me to. But this is what came out.

#ysblf #betty la fea #anon #ask

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ravagedarkness · 11 months

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Spider-Man: Home Rebuilt, Chapter 48: Ravencroft

Friday rolled around. It was a totally different vibe from yesterday. At work, Jonah was extra grouchy. He was still heated that Cyclops crashed his show. It probably didn’t help that the X-Men were still trending on Twitter and the opinions of the team was still extremely divided. No matter how much Jonah and other likeminded news reporters and personalities tried, they couldn’t shine enough bad light on us to make the majority of the public see us as the bad guys in the situation. I did wonder, however, if that was because they sympathized with us, or if they hated Hammer that much.

While the optimistic side of me hoped it was the former, I wouldn’t have been upset if it was the latter.

After that, I went home, got ready for class, and went to school. The lesson was rather light. It was as if Scott knew I was rather anxious about this upcoming weekend. He didn’t even assign homework. Well, he did, but it was optional and for extra credit. After class, Scott kept me behind as the other students left. Once it was just the two of us, Scott walked up to the door before he closed it and locked it. He then let loose a breath before he turned and looked at me.

“How’d it go with MJ last night?” he asked as he walked back to his desk and sat on top of it. I was sitting at one of the classroom’s desk, the one closest to his. I smiled slightly.

“It was awesome,” I answered. “We… we spent time on the rooftop of Midtown High School, eating Big E Style Chopped Cheeses, talking and other stuff…” I averted my gaze as my face heated.

“Did you two…?”

I quickly brought my head forward and shook it emphatically. “No, sir. I just meant that MJ and I made out… rather intensely.”

Scott was quiet for a few moments. “Am I… am I off base for assuming that you already got ‘The Talk’?”

“No, sir.” I chuckled awkwardly. “Aunt May… she gave me that talk during my last year in middle school.” I cleared my throat. “I may or may not have been caught watching something I should not have been watching.” Scott nodded. There was no expression of judgment on his face. “But… yeah. Making out was all MJ and I did last night and it’s all we’ve ever done to this point.”

“Okay.” Scott paused for a moment. “Look, I know I’m not your father, uncle, brother, or even cousin… at least, not as far as I know.” He tilted his head briefly. “My family tree is a mess, to say the least. But… the point is… even though I’m not any of those things to you, I do still feel responsible for you. So, just know I’m just looking out for you.”

“I understand, and I appreciate it,” I assured him. I paused for a moment. “Um… since we’re on the subject of romance and the like… do you like Joanna?”

Scott was given pause. I was surprised, however, that he didn’t glare at me.

“I don’t know yet,” Scott admitted. “…My ex-wife… Jean… She’s a telepath. And she was one of the most powerful telepaths on Earth until she left the planet. So, with her… I didn’t have to try hard to explain or be open with my feelings. She could easily read me, for better or for worse. And there was a comfort with that. Even with that aside, Jean was the only woman who I had romantic feelings for. She’s the end all, be all of my romantic experience. So, now there’s Joanna. To be honest, she intrigues me. She’s forward, she’s flirty, about as crass as you’d expect from the average Marine, and yet there’s this kindness and softness underneath it all. So… I guess I’m just treading carefully.” Scott paused again. “…Thank you.”

I tilted my head. “For what?”

“For not giving me any advice.”

At that, I scoffed. “Scott, I’m the last person to give anyone relationship advice,” I pointed out. At that, Scott chuckled.

“Well, I didn’t keep you behind to talk romance.” He paused for a moment. “How are you feeling about Sunday?”

I shifted in my seat a bit. “I would’ve marked it in my calendar if I wasn’t paranoid about that possibly exposing us.” I shook my head. “I…” I took in a breath. “…In my whole entire life, I’ve only really hated a few people – the one who killed my Uncle Ben, Mysterio, and Green Goblin. Other than that, I’m not one to hold hatred in my heart for people. I didn’t even hate Toomes. While what he did was wrong and could have led to a lot of people hurt or worse, I can understand going the extra mile for the people you love… Sympathize, even. But…” I balled my right fist up. My heart rate rose. I took a moment to take a deep breath. “I just want this to be over, even if it’s just temporarily.”

“I get that,” Scott replied with a nod. “But remember, it’s just that – temporary. As we continue our lives as heroes – and as X-Men – we’re going to have adversaries that are going to continue to be a thorn in our side, even from beyond the grave.” He paused for a moment. “That’s something you should already know, of course. So, expect Justin Hammer and Scorpion to be a long term problem. But, this weekend, we’ll make sure they’re sent on their way for the short term. Got it?” I nodded. “Good. Now go about the rest of your day. I believe you, Craig, and Kitty have a busy night ahead of you.”

After class, I stopped at home and changed into my quick change outfit before I made my way over to Peter Pan. Craig and Kitty were going to meet me there. I met MJ there, as usual. As semi-usual, Ned was there as well. What was unusual, however, was MJ taking her break after she got me a cup of coffee and a peanut butter cup donut. She sat with me and Ned, with her to my left and Ned to my right at the counter.

“How are you holding up?” MJ asked.

“Just a bit antsy for this Sunday,” I told her reassuringly. “Other than that, I’m good.”

“I’m looking forward to this Sunday, too,” Ned spoke up. “Take care of business on that day, and then we can focus on other things – like the Valentine’s Day dance.”

I couldn’t help but scoff as I shook my head. “You know, pre-You-Know-What, the fact that I didn’t get a suit yet would have had me freaking out. But now, I’m just… annoyed. A little more than mildly annoyed, but just annoyed nonetheless.” I picked up my donut and took a bite out of it.

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t found a dress yet,” MJ sympathized. “Between making sure that I’m still on track for college and worrying about you and your coworkers, the dance has been far from my biggest concern.” She shrugged. “To be honest, you and rest of the American Idiots are the only reason I’m excited for going.”

“Honestly?” Ned replied. “Ditto.” He sighed. “The only downside is that we might have to deal with Flash.”

“Always the highlight of any day,” I deadpanned. During this, Kitty and Craig walked in. They were dressed in their quick change outfits, with the former’s mask probably tucked away in her jacket and the latter having his hood down.

“What’s good, people?” Craig greeted as he took a seat next to Ned. Kitty sat to the left of MJ.

“Just talking about the Valentine’s Day dance,” Ned explained. “How was your day?”

Craig shrugged. “It was meh. I had a meeting with an IRS agent.”

I tilted my head as I looked at him. “How come?”

“I had to do my taxes. That, unfortunately, took a lot of time since a certain job doesn’t come with a W-2.”

“Wait, you have to pay taxes on that money?” Ned asked.

“As a matter of fact, you do,” Kitty confirmed. “That’s how Al Capone was taken down.”

“But aren’t you afraid that could...?” MJ began before she trailed off. It took me a moment to realize what she trying to ask.

“The agent I work with?” Craig started to explain in a whisper. “We have an arrangement. I do some favors for her – favors that aligns extremely well with my expertise – and she makes sure I don’t end up getting flagged for anything.” He raised his eyebrows briefly. “Being a vigilante can be quite the perk when you have some anti-Accords folks in the right places.” He chuckled. “Anyway, we’ll chill here until you’re finished, Pete. And then we’ll dip.”

After I did finish my food, Craig, Kitty, and I said our byes to Ned and MJ, with me doing my special handshake with the former and kissing the latter. We left in Craig’s Scion xB before we started to drive around. With Craig driving, I took shotgun while Kitty sat in the backseat. She had a tablet in her hands.

“So, we got quite a few locations from Joanna,” Kitty stated. “Some of them I already looked at and decided they weren’t worth checking out.”

“How come?” I asked.

“Well, for one, some of those locations are a little too close to civilian population for our comfort,” Craig said. “Secondly, some of them are seaside.”

“Is that really an issue?”

“Look, man. I ain’t putting a dang thing past Hammer when it comes what he’ll throw at us. The last thing we want is to give that man a chance to do something crazy like roll up on us with a warship or attack submarine or something.”

Had we been talking about anyone else, I might’ve called Craig overly paranoid. But since this was Hammer we’re talking about, one could make a case that he wasn’t being paranoid enough. So, I nodded in concession.

“So what are the other places?”

“Well, there are a couple of places,” Kitty informed. “Each one has their own pros and cons. First up, we have the former Hand Compound. On one hand, most of the buildings are still intact and its’ pretty far from general population. On the other hand, it’s also one of the locations that Scott has scouted for future use as a new headquarters for The X-Men once we expand. Second, there’s Kingsbridge Armory. It’s pretty intact as well, but it’s rather wide open on the inside. Then there’s the third option.”

I heard the sound of bones cracking. I turned my head to see Craig’s hand tightly holding the steering wheel. Something told me I wasn’t going to like it.

“What’s the third option?”

Craig sighed. “There’s an abandoned sanatorium in Westchester County,” he said reluctantly.

“How abandoned?”

“It literally hasn’t been touched in decades,” Kitty responded. “The thing is… the place is said to be cursed. People avoid it like the plague. Not even squatters and urban explorers want anything to do with it.”

“Do you believe it’s cursed?”

Kitty scoffed. “Sweetie, after all the stuff we’ve seen and went up against in our lives, we’d have to be rather dense to not, at the very least, acknowledge the possibility.” I hummed in acknowledgment as I nodded – she had a huge point. “But, creepy as the hospital is, it’s out the way of civilian population and we could possibly find an area in the building where’s only one way in or out. We could also lay some traps down along the way. So, which one do you guys want to check out?”

Craig and I looked at each other. We then sighed in resignation.

“The sanatorium,” we both replied in reluctance.

“Okay, well, if we’re going to head to Westchester, then we need to grab food along the way,” Kitty declared. “I’ll even pay. Are you guys up for Five Guys?”

After we went to Five Guys and grabbed food, we made our way over to Westchester County. The drive wasn’t too long. It was only about an hour. It wasn’t exactly a short trip, but I’ve been on longer drives. Once we arrived in Westchester, we used the GPS in Craig’s phone to track down the sanatorium. It took us about twenty minutes. And that was mostly because Craig was driving a little slower than usual. I didn’t know if it was because he was being extra cautious due to not really knowing the area that well, of if he was really reluctant to go to this sanatorium.

After some time, we found the road that led to our destination. To say the road was in bad shape was a huge understatement. Chunks of the pavement were missing, either the results of pieces being broken off or it being worn down by the elements. There were of grasses growing with the cracks. There was even a point where was an abandoned vehicle on the road that was blocking the path. Craig and I handled it – between his power to control friction and my super strength, moving the vehicle out of the way was easy. Still, the approach was rather slow – while a Scion xB is sort of shaped like an SUV, they were far from that and they never meant for rough terrain. Making things a little worse was the fact that the sky, in an occurrence that couldn’t be more clichéd, became rather overcast.

“Man, even the weather is telling us to turn back around,” Craig grumbled.

“You and Peter agreed to check this place out first,” Kitty pointed out.

“Yeah, and I’m starting to think I’m stupid for doing so.”

Eventually, we did reach the sanatorium. After we pulled up to the gates, Craig put the car in park. We stepped out of the vehicle. I stared at the gates, taking note of the words that adorned them – Ravencroft Institute. I looked past the gates and at the buildings that took up the grounds. From what I could see, there was a small church, buildings that looked like dormitories. And I was pretty sure there was a graveyard out in the distance. However, what really got my attention was the main building. It looked Victorian, and was seemingly built with red brick and mortar. It was about four stories tall and had multiple towers that looked like it housed bells.

“This is the place,” Kitty stated. “Codenames from here on out. Let’s scope it out.”

I nodded as I masked up before I stepped up to the gate. There was a steel chain with a lock holding the gates closed. I was about to just rip it off before Frictor stepped forward and pulled out a lock pick. He grabbed the lock and used the pick to unlock it.

“I could have ripped it off,” I pointed out.

“I can’t let you do all the work,” Frictor replied. “Besides, we need the chain intact.” With moments, the lock was picked open. He pulled unraveled the chain before he left it hanging on the gate. He pushed the gate open wide. “I’m going to pull the car in.” Kitty and I stepped onto the property as Frictor hopped inside of the Scion before he drove it past the gates. He then hopped out, walked up to the gates, pushed them closed, relocked it. After that, he stepped back into the car and beckoned us to hop back in. Once Shadowcat and I were inside, Frictor drove the rest of the way up the driveway before he pulled up to the front door and put the car in park.

Once again, we stepped out of the vehicle. Frictor walked around the Scion and unlocked the hatch before lifting it up. He pulled out a black Jansport backpack before he closed the hatch. After he pressed a button on a small remote on his keychain, locking the vehicle, the three of us made our way to the front door. Once more, Frictor took the initiative to pick the lock. Once he had it open, he pulled open the door and held it open for me and Shadowcat to enter.

After Frictor stepped inside, we all looked forward. Frictor unzipped his backpack and pulled out three flashlights. He handed two of the flashlights to Shadowcat and I before taking the third one for himself. After we clicked our flashlights on, we looked forward at the scene in front of us. As expected from a defunct medical facility, there was a front desk and remnants of a computer. The walls were stained with mold and what I hoped was rust. The floor was rather grimy. And the smell reeked of something awful.

“Prime real estate,” Shadowcat deadpanned. She turned her flashlight and aimed it towards the back. She illuminated the steel doors of a pair of elevators. “There. The stairs should be nearby.” She walked forward, and Frictor and I followed suit. The three of us walked up to the elevators before we looked around for a stairwell. Finding a door with a sign indicating it led to the stairs, I beckoned towards the others to follow me. We walked up the door. I twisted the nob and pushed the door. It opened with a rather loud creak, and a rat suddenly ran out, causing the three of us suddenly step back in surprise.

“Man, screw this place,” Frictor grumbled. Still, we entered the stairwell. We ascended slowly. Fortunately, the stairs were rather sturdy, having been made from concrete.

“So far, so good,” Shadowcat whispered. We passed the second floor landing as we continued our ascent. But when we got to the third floor landing, we found our way blocked by a load of debris – there were pieces of concrete, metal, and wood. “…Great, I pulled a Ned.” I chuckled as I shook my head.

“…Looks like we’re checking the second floor for another stairwell,” Frictor said. We made our way back down to the second floor landing before we stepped through the door. As we lit up the hallway with our flashlights, we saw that it was a hallway full of glass windows. Frictor took in a breath before he walked forward. Shadowcat and I looked at each other before we followed him. As we passed by the window, I glanced inside, seeing that they were examination rooms. Some of them had medical equipment. Others had gurneys and chairs with harnesses. Frictor suddenly came to a stop and looked at one of the rooms. Shadowcat and I came to a stop next to him and looked through the window. Looking back at us was rows and rows of mannequins in various states of disrepair.

“…Are we in Westchester, or are we in Silent Hill?” I commented dryly. From the corner of my eye, I saw Frictor shake his head.

“I hate every bit of this,” Frictor muttered out.

“Let’s just keep going,” Shadowcat urged.

We did just that, making our way down to the other side of the hall. We found another stairwell. We entered it. We moved up the stairs before he made our way to the top floor. We stepped onto the floor. This floor seemed to be for administrators. As we walked down the hall, we passed by doors with nameplates too damaged to read. There was only one name that was somewhat legible. All I could make out was “el Ess”. We continued down the hall until we found the headmaster’s office. Shadowcat moved forward and grabbed the knob. She twisted it. The knob creaked, but twisted nonetheless. She opened the door. We stepped inside. It was a pretty large office – about as big as my apartment. Bookshelves were knocked over. A large desk was on its side. Broken glass was on the floor along with other pieces of garbage.

“…I think we got something here,” Shadowcat stated.

“Yeah, we got a potential for a Tetanus outbreak,” Frictor snarked, prompting Shadowcat to halfheartedly slap his chest with the back of her left hand.

“No, seriously, think about it. Obviously, the elevators are out. The electrical systems of this place are probably too worn to even be powered. With one of the stairwells blocked…”

“There’s only one way in and one way out,” I finished for her.

Shadowcat looked at me and smiled. “Exactly. We can set traps along the way to cull their forces – non-lethally, of course – and make things a lot easier for us.” Her smile became wider. “We can even use the mannequins we saw. We can dress them up in mock ups of our suits and place them in different areas as distractions or lures.”

“…You’re right,” Frictor conceded. “…Okay, let’s get the heck out of here and we’ll tell Scott about it when we get home.”

We did just that, making sure to lock the gates back up before we drove away.

We drove straight back to the bunker before we hopped in Craig’s SUV and drove to the X-Men’s apartment. Once we arrived and went inside, we found Carmilla and Scott sitting on the sofa, watching TV. They looked up at us as Kitty closed the door.

“Hey guys,” Craig greeted. All of us removed our shoes before we joined them. I took the couch with Kitty while Craig took a seat next to Carmilla. After Craig shared a brief kiss with Carmilla, he looked at the screen. “Oh, Smackdown is on?”

“Yeah, it’s the last fifteen minutes of it,” Scott replied.

“I don’t know who this Roman Reigns is, but I don’t like him,” Carmilla stated with a pout.

“Is it because he’s a heel?” I asked.

“No. His hair is prettier than mine.”

“I beg to differ,” Craig replied as he wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Handsome dude, he is, but I’d take you over him any day of the week.” Carmilla blushed a bit as she smiled.

“So, how did the scouting go?” Scott asked.

“Well, good news,” Kitty replied with a smile. “We found a place in Westchester County. It’s the Ravencroft Institute. It’s creepy as hell, but in the main building, there’s only one way to the Headmaster’s Office. The office is pretty big, too, so we can fortify it. Other than that, there are other buildings on site we can worth with.

“Good, good.” Scott nodded. “We can go over there tomorrow. We can go at night and – ”

“Can we do the morning or at least early afternoon?” Craig cut in. “Because, seriously, the place is creepy enough as is. I don’t want to go there at night.”

“AAAAAW, is my All-American scared?” Carmilla mocked, teasingly poking her finger into Craig’s cheek.

Craig turned his head towards her and gave her a solemn look. “Yes, actually! That whole place was on some Silent Hill type stuff. There was even a cell full of creepy mannequins!”

“It was pretty creepy,” I said in agreement. “The whole place just gave me a bad vibe.”

“It would be a bit safer to go during the daytime,” Scott mused. After some moments, he nodded. “Okay, we’ll go in the afternoon. We’ll stop at the bunker and gather any supplies we need.”

“Do I still have weapons there?” Carmilla asked.

Scott nodded. “You do.” He then looked at me. “I’ll also contact Pepper to see if there’s any way we can borrow a fabricator for us to use.” I nodded. After that, he addressed all of us. “We’re going to be working hard tomorrow. So, I suggest you take the morning to relax and eat up. I’ll make sure we have food with us while we work. We’ll do everything we can to be prepared for Sunday so we can take down Scorpion and whoever else Hammer is throwing at us.”

“We’ll send them packing, Scott,” Kitty assured. “And then after that, we can spend time worrying about more mundane stuff, like the Valentine’s Day dance… and college.”

I looked at her. “You’re thinking about going?”

“We all do, Peter. Craig, Carmilla, and I talked about it for a while.”

“I even got my GED and everything,” Carmilla added. “…I don’t really care about getting a degree in and of itself. Don’t get me wrong, if I’m going to college, I’m going it to graduate. But… I just want to have some semblance of normalcy.” She then smiled. “Also, I have a thing for theatre.”

“The only thing is… I’m not sure I want to leave New York,” Craig spoke up. “And at the same time… I’ve grown attached to everyone as well.”

“MJ did say that it’s a conversation that all of us American Idiots should have,” I stated. “We’ll talk about it afterwards.”

I spent an hour or so more at the X-Men’s apartment before I made my way home. Once I got home, I took a quick shower before I went to bed. I was about to close my eyes before an idea hit me. I pulled out my phone and called up MJ. I waited patiently before she picked up.

“Hello, Loser,” she greeted.

“Hey Em,” I greeted back. “Um… are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”

“Unfortunately, I am.” I could hear the exasperation in her voice. “I’m picking up a morning shift at Peter Pan. So I have to be there around nine in the morning.”

“I see.” I sighed. “I was… I was just going to ask if you’re up for going out for breakfast. I… I wanted to spend some more time with you before I head out to Westchester in the afternoon.”

There was a pause on MJ’s end. She then spoke up. “…We don’t have to eat out,” she said slowly.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We can eat at your place. I’ll come by super early and we can cook and eat together.”

I smiled widely. I thought it was a great idea. But of course I did. Spending time with MJ would always be a great idea to me, no matter what we spend that time doing. “I would love that. Just… do me a favor. Would you kindly bring some rooibos tea?”

She chuckled, and that brought a warm feeling in my chest. “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you, Tiger.”

“I love you, too, Em.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone. I then hooked it up to the charger before I lay down and went to sleep.

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 2 years

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Interviews with Spider-Man (Peter Parker x Reader)

Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first fic in a while but I thought I'd write for Peter Parker because he's one of my all-time favs from the very beginning. I hope y'all enjoy this and feel free to start requesting things again! I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things. Also, if anyone wants to become mutuals, my dm's are totally open :)

Requested?: Nope!

Summary: (Y/n), in an effort to save the school newspaper club, scores an interview with Spider-Man.

Interviews with Spider-Man

Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: None! Just fluff for this one!

“If you don’t get interest sparked in the newspaper by the student body soon, and I mean very soon, then I’m afraid I’ll have to shut down the club,” Principal Morita says as he frowns at you.

You’re sitting across from him at his desk, jaw dropped at the sudden news.

“Principal Morita, that’s not fair! The newspaper is important to a lot of people!” You protest, forcefully putting your hands on the ends of his desk as you stand up. He gives you a stern look, causing you to sheepishly sit back down.

“Is it important to a lot of people, or is it just important to you, (Y/n)?” He asks, his words coming out with a sigh. You grimace. Yes, the newspaper was mostly important to you, but that didn’t mean that everyone else hated it. You had a good team of four people by your side that worked hard for the newspaper, too, including Michelle Jones and Betty Brant.

“It’s more than just me, I can assure you.” You set your mouth into a firm line, eyebrows creasing together as you give him a hard stare.

“Great. If it’s so important to that many people, then you won’t have any trouble getting the student body’s interest, will you?” He smiles dauntingly at you. Your eyes widen.

“Well, I--”

“You’re dismissed, Miss (Y/l/n). We’ll have another meeting in two weeks to discuss this. If newspaper readings haven’t picked up by then, I’m afraid there won’t be good news for you.”

You pick up your bag with a huff and turn on your heel, heading for the door. If Principal Morita didn’t believe in you, then you’d just have to find someone who does.

~+~

“He seriously said that to you?” Betty asks incredulously, placing a hand on her hip.

“Yup. So we gotta figure this out quickly,” You say.

“I mean, we could spice things up by having a photo on the front? That catches attention,” MJ pipes in with her idea.

“That’s a great idea MJ, but who’s gonna take the picture? None of us are exactly…” You glance over to the two other guys in the newspaper club, typing furiously on their computers, “artistic in that way.”

“We may not be, but I’m sure we could find someone.” Betty shrugs, looking at you and MJ.

“Peter Parker is good with photography.” MJ points out. Your eyes light up.

“Yes! I have my next class with him, he’s my lab partner. I’ll ask him if he’s up for being on the newspaper team,” You say, grinning ear to ear at the prospect of the club being saved. As newspaper club president, you feel very strongly about this going well. After all, it’s your senior year and this is one of the most important things to you. You can’t just give up on it.

“Well, the bell’s about to ring, so you better get headed that direction.” Betty pats you on the back. You grab your backpack and start heading for your chemistry class, working up the courage to ask Peter to join the newspaper club. You have talked to him before, but only really for class purposes. He’s not exactly a friend, per se, so you’re a little nervous to ask a favor from him. But you’d do anything to save your club.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Peter greets you as he sets his backpack down and sits next to you.

“Hey, Parker.” You smile at him, turning back to your work nervously as you mull over what you want to say to him.

“You okay?” He asks, face contorting slightly in concern as he sees your in-thought expression.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I just…the newspaper club is getting shut down soon if we don’t get more of the student body to read it, so…I’m a bit bummed about that.” A bit bummed is an understatement, but he doesn’t need to know that at this point.

“Seriously? I love reading the school newspaper every week. Is there anything I can do to help?” He asks. You turn to face him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Actually, there is…”

“How?”

“Would you be able to take photos for the school paper? Just one a week, so we can put it on the cover and catch more people’s attention with it.” You plead, giving him small puppy dog eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah! I’d definitely be willing to do that for yo-- uh, the newspaper club.” He laughs, a light shade of red dusting his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. The blush escapes you as the only thing you can think about is the fact that he agreed to do it.

“Thank you!” You gasp, hugging him tightly. You let go quickly and grab your phone, immediately texting the newspaper group chat and missing the dazed look that Peter has on his face.

~~~

You: PETER SAID YES!!

MJ: fr? Awesome

Betts: YES! NEWSPAPER SAvED!

MJ: don’t get too excited, it has to actually work first

You: MJ, pls, stop being negative and let us bask in the win

MJ: whatever you say

~~~

“When do you need the first photo by?” Peter asks. You think about it. The newspaper usually publishes on Monday of every week, and it’s currently Friday, so tomorrow or Sunday should probably do. That way, you have time to format it before you send it to get printed.

“Tomorrow, if that’s okay,” You say.

“Tomorrow? What’s the subject that I’m even photographing?” Peter looks at you quizically. You deadpan. Crap, that’s kind of important to know. But if the next meeting with the principal is in two weeks, you can’t wait until the second week to put your plan into action.

“Well, I was thinking of writing a column on Spider-Man, but…I don’t know, that’ll be hard to capture a photo of him…” You trail off, brainstorming any way to make this happen and save your newspaper. Truth is, you had no intention on creating a Spider-Man column this week, but the idea came to you since your previous column, “Budget Cuts to Midtown,” seems a tad bitter now that the newspaper team is part of the cuts.

“Well…I’ll see what I can come up with, and we can meet up tomorrow to talk about it?” He asks, getting out a piece of paper. You nod furiously, internally sighing about your lack of a plan otherwise.

Peter grabs a pen and slides the piece of paper and pen over to you.

“If you’ll write down your number, I’ll text you tomorrow about the photo and we can talk about it. Sound good?” He asks. Your eyes drop to the paper and you start to write your number out, missing his small exhale as you do so.

“Sounds great. I’m sorry for the short notice, I promise it won’t be like this every week. Just do what you can and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You grimace, sliding the paper over to him.

“Of course. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” He gives you a reassuring smile, taking the paper and slipping it into his pocket.

“Alright, class! Stop chatting, it’s time for learning…” Your teacher gets up and starts droning on about chemical compounds.

All you can think about is your Spider-Man column and what you’re going to write for it. Sure, the masked hero is constantly in the news, but what could you write about him that the kids wouldn’t be able to get on the internet literally anywhere else? It had to be special, something worth reading, something that would spark interest.

But what?

~+~

Peter: Hey (Y/n), it’s Peter. I have an idea for the school newspaper. Can we meet up?

You: Yeah, of course! Where do you want to meet?

Peter: Would Delmar’s deli on the corner work? I know we live relatively close to each other.

You: Yeah, that works great for me. Meet you there in like ten?

Peter: Perfect. See you soon!

~~~

You grab your laptop and head out the door almost immediately, arriving at Delmar’s about ten minutes later. Peter is already sitting at a table outside, his hand shooting up to wave at you as soon as he sees you. You grin at him and walk slightly faster, arriving at the table and sitting down across from him.

“So, whatcha got?” You hum, bringing out your computer and opening it up.

“Well, I’ve got good news and a new idea.” He gets out his own laptop and starts typing furiously. You cock your head to the side.

“A new idea?” You ask, your curiosity piqued. You’re all for new ideas when it comes to the newspaper nowadays.

“Yeah. So, first off, I got this photo.” Peter spins his computer around and shows you an incredible shot of Spider-man swinging from a building.

“Holy crap, Parker, that’s incredible! How did you get that?” You gasp, practically grabbing the computer out of his hands as you stare at the incredible detail and precision of it. It looks entirely professional and way too good to be true.

“You could say I…called in a favor. Anyway, onto my idea. Have you figured out your Spider-man column yet?”

No. You have not. Honestly, you had been trying all night to come up with an idea, but nothing was inspiring you, and you had no clue what to write about. Nothing was original at this point when it came to the infamous superhero.

“...No.” You sigh, planting your face in your hands.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry! I was just asking because I had an idea for it, but I didn’t want to ruin any ideas that you potentially had!” He reassures you, reaching out and innocently touching your forearm. You look up at him.

“What’s your idea?” You ask.

“Well, you could interview Spider-man. That could be the column, an interview with Spider-man.”

You look at him with the blankest face you can muster. How in the world were you, a mere student at Midtown High, going to score an interview with a literal superhero? He must be literally insane.

“Peter, I hate to shut down a good idea, but that’s impossible.” You deadpan.

“(Y/n), no it’s not--”

“How would I get an interview with a literal superhero? It’s not like I can just stop him in the street and say ‘Hey, Mr. Spider-man, would you mind if I asked you a couple questions’--”

“That’s not what you would--”

“Like, how insane would that be! Parker, seriously, if you’re going to get my hopes up, at least--”

“Would you listen to--”

“An interview with Spider-man! Ha! it actually sounds absurd--”

“I know Spider-man!” Peter blurts out, causing you to stop in your tracks and go silent.

“You what?” You whisper, eyes widening.

“I have a Stark internship, (Y/n). I see him all the time, I can ask him for a favor and set up a meeting with you. When would you want to meet?” He asks, his eyes boring into yours. Your breath hitches in your throat under the intensity of his gaze.

“Could you secure an interview for tomorrow?” Your words barely come out, shock still overcoming pretty much all of your brain functions.

“I can try. I’ll talk to him later today at the compound and I’ll text you what he says before tonight. Sound good?” He asks, a small smile making its way to his face.

“Sound good? This is the best thing I think that has ever happened to me.” You blink rapidly at him, finally settling back into a normal state. An interview with Spider-Man? You’re on cloud nine, in all honesty. If this is truly happening, then the newspaper would be saved without question.

“Great. I’ll talk to you later, then. I gotta get going.” He stands up and turns to leave, hesitating for a moment.

Peter turns back to you, a small smile on his face.

“Hey, don’t worry, we’ll save the newspaper, alright?” He reassures you. You stare up at him with a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“I know we will,” You say.

Peter gives you one last nod before hurrying off to what you assume is his internship duties. You stand up from the table, closing your laptop and shoving it into your bag.

An interview with Spider-Man.

What could get better than that?

~+~

You can barely contain your excitement as your eyes keep drifting to the alarm clock on your bedside table. You get to meet Spider-Man any minute now. The clock flashes “2:17 AM” at you but you could honestly care less about the early hour that he chose to meet you, claiming he had to do it after his patrol was over.

Three taps on your window bring you abruptly out of your thoughts as you hop up and frantically scurry over to the window. You slide it up and come face-to-face with the masked hero you had heard so much about.

“Holy crap you’re actually here- Spider-Man,” You say breathlessly, shock overwhelming you.

“Uh, yeah, Peter said you wanted an interview with me?” He asks, the voice under the mask obviously being distorted for identity reasons.

“Absolutely- uh, do you want to come in or for me to come out?” You ask, grabbing your phone.

“Maybe it’d be best if you come out. Don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” He chuckles, and you think about the many implications of that statement. Nevertheless, you aren’t able to dwell on it for long because you’re stepping outside onto the fire escape right next to the Spider-Man of New York City.

“Wow, I’m-- I never actually introduced myself properly. I’m (Y/n) (Y/l/n), it’s nice to meet you Spider-Man.” You force out nervously, holding your hand out for him to shake. He laughs and shakes it.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/n).”

“Uh, before we get started, I have to ask: is it okay if I record this conversation? If you say anything you don’t want to go on record or in the newspaper you can just tell me after the fact or say ‘strike that’ and I’ll pretend it never happened.” You go over the formalities quickly.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” He agrees. You sigh in relief and turn the voice memos on in your phone.

“So, what made you want to become a superhero?” You ask, staring into the white eyes of his mask.

“Well, uh…I suppose, I was gifted with powers one day and decided to use them for the better. As someone once told me, ‘great power comes with great responsibility’ and he was right. Mr. Stark approached me and offered me a spot on the team, and I accepted.” He explains, his mask’s eyes moving in sync with how you expect his facial expressions to read.

“Gifted?” You prod, writing down sketches of notes that you want to remember from the interview that the voice notes won’t catch. Mainly, the moving of his mask eyes.

“Sorry?” He asks, a hand scratching the back of his neck. You wonder if he can feel the scratch of his hand through his suit.

“Oh, sorry, I was asking if you think that your powers are a gift. I know some might consider them a curse rather than a blessing,” You state simply as you continue to look down at your notepad.

“I-” Spider-Man seems at a momentary loss, “Man you really don’t hold back on your interviews, do you?”

This causes your head to snap up and look at him, realizing the bluntness of your question to him.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to--”

“No, no, it’s alright. I’ll answer it. It was just funny to me, don’t worry,” He laughs, a joyous noise to your ears, “yeah, I uh… I would consider it a gift. I get to help others, and that’s honestly all I could ever ask for. It is to the detriment of myself sometimes, sure, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s helped me become the person I am today.”

“That’s very inspiring, Spider-Man, thank you.” You smile at him, getting a warm feeling in your body. Spider-Man seems like a very likeable, down-to-earth individual and you feel very lucky to get to know him like this.

“So, what is it like being on a team with the Avengers?” You ask.

“Well, the team is great. Mr. Stark--”

As Spider-Man continues to talk about the Avengers and how incredible of a team it is, you take to your notepad. Mr. Stark, you think, so he’s young. A teenager perhaps? You ponder. If he’s a teenager, then that means he’s most likely your age. And if he’s your age, then…

No. Nope. No way. Do not get a crush on Spider-Man.

“--and Captain America is very funny. Kind of oblivious to modern technology sometimes, but a great guy and I really like working with him. I like working with all of them, honestly, it’s a dream come true.” Spider-Man ends his listing. You look up at him and smile softly.

“They seem like a great group of people to work with. I’m honestly jealous.” You laugh, and you see the eyes of his suit perk up at your laugh. This intrigues you.

“Well, I’m sure you’re also awesome to work with. I’m kinda jealous of Peter for getting to work with both the Avengers and you!” He chuckles. Is he…flirting?

“Well, technically, you get to work with me now, too. Unless this is like a one-time thing in which case--” You stammer out, embarrassed that you assumed he’d be coming back.

“No, of course I’m coming back. Talking with an incredibly witty, beautiful girl like you for hours on end into the night? I can’t complain.” He tells you. Definitely flirting.

“Well, thank you. I suppose I could say the same, but I don’t know what you look like under the mask,” You tease.

“We both know I can’t show you that.” He shakes his head lightly but you can tell the smile is still on his face.

“Oh, I know. And I’m not asking, let’s be clear about that. We’ll keep your anonymity for now, Spider-Man.” You grin at him.

“For now?” He asks, the amusement evident in his voice.

“What, I can’t say I won’t get curious one day.” You taunt him. He puts his hands up.

“Alright, alright. I suppose I can’t blame you for that.”

“Now, to continue with a few more questions…”

~+~

You had been meeting with Spider-Man every Sunday night for about two months at this point. The newspaper was met with huge success after the Spider-Man interview column was introduced, and the principal was forced to keep the newspaper going. In fact, you had kind of become a celebrity at school for knowing Spider-Man. Peter Parker had basically become your best friend during this time, and you couldn’t thank him enough for scoring that first interview with Spider-Man. All of the success you’re experiencing now is all because of him, and you don’t let him forget that. Besides, you’ve kind of been growing a crush on Spider-Man, so you have to thank Peter for introducing you to him in that capacity as well.

“Hey, Parker.” You slide up to Peter in the hallway, walking to chemistry class with him.

“Hey, (Y/n/n).” Peter smiles at you.

“TGIF, am I right?” You chuckle. He gives you a weird face.

“How old are you again?” He asks, eliciting a laugh from you. His eyes light up at your laugh, unbeknownst to you. You look back at him and he tries to hide his face of delight at making you laugh.

“Oh come on, you have to be a little happy that it’s Friday. We have movie night tomorrow night!” You remind him. You, Peter, Ned, and MJ had all created ‘Saturday move marathon night’ and it had been successful so far. Tonight’s movie is Revenge of the Sith, courtesy of Peter and Ned. Not that you’re complaining, though.

“Of course I’m happy it’s Friday. I wouldn’t miss movie night for the world. Come on, let’s get to class. We can’t be late again.”

~+~

That night, you’re putting away some clean clothes and listening to music when you hear a distinct three taps on your window. Your eyes dart to the clock next to you that reads “2:43 AM” in bright red lettering. You turn around and see Spider-Man’s iconic suit standing at the window.

Rushing over, you slide the window up and stare at him confused.

“You’re two days early, you’re not supposed to be here until Sunday night.” You remark, brows furrowed. He doesn’t respond, instead tumbling through your window right past you. You slap a hand over your mouth to keep from yelping. He had never come into your room before, so you are beyond confused as to what is happening.

“Help.” You hear his strained voice manage to get out, without the voice modulator covering it.

Oh crap. He’s hurt.

“Oh my god, Spider-Man, what’s wrong? What happened?” You frantically ask, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around your shoulders to support him as you walk over to your bed and lay him down on it. You see scrapes and blood covering his body as his suit is torn up in places.

“Fight…went wrong.” He forces out, and you can see how labored his breathing is as his chest heaves up and down.

“Okay, uh, give me one second-” You run to your medical cabinet in your house and grab everything you think might be helpful.

You run back to your room as quietly as possible and get out what you found: a clean warm wet wash towel, sterile gauze, antibacterial ointment, and a small sewing kit. Luckily, your mom is a nurse and taught you a few things on stitching people up in case you ever needed it, which you never thought you would but here you are.

“Stay still. This is going to hurt a little bit, but please don’t move as that will just make it worse.” You instruct, getting to work. You stop the bleeding, clean the wounds, apply the ointment, and start to stitch him up. He winces every so often, but does as you told him and keeps pretty still the whole time.

“Thank you.” He murmurs once you’re done. You can tell he’s exhausted, and you feel bad for him.

“I’m only glad I could help. You worried me there for a second, Spidey.” You admit, laying a hand on his shoulder. You didn’t notice while you were working since you were so worried about him, but dang does he have some abs on him.

You notice your staring and look away, clearing your throat and hoping that he didn’t notice.

“No need to worry, I’m tough,” He says, and you can tell he’s trying to smile under his mask. You sigh and look at him with a tense look, obviously still worried about his condition. He tries to sit up next to you, but you sternly push him back down onto the bed by his shoulders.

“Stay there for a little bit. I don’t want your wounds opening back up.” You explain to him.

“How long?” He asks. You think you recognize his unmodulated voice for a moment, but you brush it off as a coincidence.

“Until morning at least--”

“Technically it is morning.”

“You know what I mean. My parents are usually out Saturday mornings and they don’t check on me before they leave, so you’ll be safe here for now.” You tell him, studying his masked face. He seems to return your gaze, committing your features to memory.

Your hands that rested on his shoulders start to inch toward his neck, laying there for a moment but not daring to lift up his mask.

“Is today the day you’re curious?” He whispers. A smile quirks up on your face.

“Maybe…” You respond, finding the line where his mask meets his suit. You trace your fingers along the line. You decide to play it bold and creep the mask up slightly. You see the tan skin of his neck and can’t help but pull the mask over his jaw all the way up to his nose. You see his lips and your breath hitches.

He hasn’t stopped you, but you fear pushing the boundary any further than this since he didn’t technically tell you it was okay. Instead, you opt to let go of the mask and run your hand along his jaw and down his neck. Finally, you reach up and rub a thumb over his lips in the ghost of a motion, the singular move sending a shiver down your spine. A long silence envelops the two of you as you both stare intently at each other.

The silence is broken by Spider-Man who mutters a small ‘screw it’ before his lips are on yours. You’re surprised at first, a small noise of surprise leaving your lips, but you quickly melt into his touch. You rest one hand on his chest and the other on his neck as his gloved hands come to your waist and face. You could stay like this forever.

The two of you break apart and stare at each other with what you assume to be shock. That’s what it is for you, at least. Spider-Man just kissed you.

“I-I don’t even know who you are.” You breathe out, reality hitting you. You may know Spider-Man, but you don’t know him.

“You do.” Spider-Man reaches up to the edge of the mask.

“Wait! I- I don’t… If you can’t…” You stumble for the words, not wanting him to jeopardize his identity for you.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, (Y/n/n). Trust me.” He lifts the edge of the mask until it’s entirely off and fallen to the bed. You gape at the man before you.

“Pete?” You whisper, a hand slowly coming to cover your open mouth.

“Hey, (Y/n/n).” He chuckles nervously.

“I’ve been crushing on my best friend this entire time.” You murmur to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You quickly clear your throat and look him up and down.

“So, the Stark internship--”

“Is just a cover for you being Spider-Man? Yeah, I think I figured that one out, genius.” You finish the sentence for him, setting your hand back down on his shoulder.

“Are you mad?” He asks, and you can tell he’s apprehensive for your answer.

“No. Shocked? Yes. But mad? No. You’re saving people’s lives, I can’t be mad at you for that.” You admit.

“But I lied to you.” He frowns.

“I mean, yeah, technically. But I’d do the same, so I’m not going to exactly blame you for that. Thank you for telling me now, though.”

“So does that mean I can kiss you again?” He asks, a small smile gracing his features. A light blush rises to your cheeks.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t hesitate. In a moment, he’s pulling you back down to him and his lips are on yours. You kiss him feverishly, wishing the moment would last forever again. Who would have known that Peter Parker could have been Spider-Man. All this time, you thought Peter had introduced you to the love of your life when in reality he’s been sitting right in front of your face.

“Movie night tomorrow night will be interesting.” Peter chuckles, running his thumb over your cheek.

“More than,” You agree, leaning down to peck his forehead, “now get some rest tonight, Spider-Man.”

“Lay with me?” He asks, getting into a more comfortable position on the bed so you can lay down with him.

“Gladly.” You smile and get into bed next to him.

This was certainly quite the interesting couple of months, but you’re not complaining. After all, the newspaper got saved, and you figured out that your crush and best friend are the same person and that he likes you back. Overall, you’d say that the interviews with Spider-Man proved to be a leaping success.

~+~

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!! Again, requests are open and so are my dm's! Have a great day!

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