#peter: ACROSS THE ENTIRE WORLD?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zephyrchama · 2 months

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It was dinnertime in the House of Lamentation. Conversation petered out as everyone focused on the hot food in front of them, leaving a quiet lull interrupted only by clinking silverware.

“I’ve always wanted a traditional church wedding,” you said, entirely unprompted.

The clinking came to a stop as the seven brothers processed what you had just said. They turned their eyes towards you.

Beelzebub was the first to break the silence despite his mouth full of food. “Huh?”

“I just always thought it would be nice. A quaint wedding in a nice little church. Maybe a chapel.”

Leviathan briefly choked on what he was chewing.

“Oh I totally get it!” Asmodeus empathized. “Rows of pews with white flowers, those high arched ceilings, the evening light of the human world sun shining on us through a beautiful stained glass window as we kiss? Oh!” He clutched his shoulders, “it gives me chills just imagining it!”

“Asmo, we can’t enter churches,” Satan stated matter-of-factly. The knife handle gripped in his fist started to bend.

“Hah!? What? Lucifer, is that true?” Mammon slammed his fork down and just about jumped out of his chair as he shouted at the oldest.

“Sit down, Mammon.” Lucifer rubbed his temple and tried to perform damage control before the inevitable headache set in. “What brought this on suddenly?” he asked you.

Keeping a straight face was immensely difficult but you pulled it off. “I was just thinking about weddings and stuff, y’know. It’d be nice. Ever since I was little I thought a church wed-”

Belphegor interjected with “You’re not even that religious.”

A flood of complaints washed over the table as everyone started loudly protesting.

“You… You’re not allowed to get married anywhere without me!” Leviathan shouted.

“Does it have to be a church? What about a restaurant instead?” Beel suggested, looking worried. “I know a lot of pretty ones.”

“We could build a mock church in a studio and get married there,” Asmo fantasized. “The stained glass could be you and me as cherubs, we can ask Luke to be the flower boy. He’d be so cute in a little tux!”

“You wouldn’t even need a ceremony with me,” Belphegor said. “If you really want one, we can have it outdoors under the stars.”

Satan’s knife was bent at a 90-degree angle. “What a stupid thing to say. Libraries are just as quiet and nice as churches. Probably. They sure suit you better than a church.”

“The restaurants also have in-house catering,” Beel continued.

“That ain’t gonna happen!” Mammon bounced his knee, shaking the entire table as he lamented, “I ain’t lettin’ my human get married in some church! We can go anywhere you want! Anywhere else!”

”There’s a church in my game!” Leviathan gasped. He thought an in-game wedding would be just as good as a real one. “I can show you! We can go now! Lets make you a character!”

Lucifer cleared his throat once. Then twice. The third time was a warning that got lost amid all of the whining. “Enough,” he finally growled. The room went silent for him. “You’re not getting married in a church. End of discussion.”

“Oh.” Weird of him to decide that on his own, but you were at your limit. A wide grin had already spread across your face. “Yeah, ok. By the way this roast you made is delicious.”

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sacharinee · 10 months

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more sleepy!peter pleaseee!!!

pairing: peter parker x reader

w/c: 800+

a/n: i had the roles reversed this time lolol - this post is based on x and abt one office reference!

peter loved sleeping next to you.

your bed was always so comfy and you were always so warm.

but sometimes it had its downsides

it could just be the frustration getting to him, but the poor boy couldn’t seem to sleep.

maybe it was the fact that you two were practically sleeping in a freezer. you always told your boyfriend you couldn’t ever fall asleep in a hot box.

or maybe it could just be you, sleeping so peacefully, without a care in the world, unmoved and unbothered, all while being the world’s biggest blanket hogger.

he also knew he shouldn’t have drank that extra cup of coffee earlier in the evening, however in his defense, he was exhausted, and he needed that extra boost to get through his last few classes of the day.

as he looked at you, a shiver ran down from his neck and to his spine, feeling goosebumps scatter around his arms.

the dim lamppost outside shines through your window and onto your relaxed face. peter’s jealous of the sweet slumber you’re in.

“y/n?” he reaches out to poke your puffy cheek.

you’re dead asleep.

you were tucked away across the mattress as he tries tugging the blanket away from you, attempting to spare some for himself. your loose grip allows peter to find comfort in the heat the warm sheets bring when he wraps it around his shoulders, tucking his feet inside and tangling it with yours.

peter feels himself finally dozing off, his heart rate slowly decreasing. he's halfway asleep when you disrupt him, feeling you gradually snatch the blanket away, stripping him of the toasty covers.

“y/n/n,” he groans. the boy is now restless as he begins to lightly poke your cheek again, “c’mon please?”

this time, when he reaches for you once more, he feels you quickly wrap your hand around his pointer finger.

“touch me one more time, parker and i swear-”

“i just wanna sleep” he whines. he’s frowning at you with those big eyes, wishing you would turn around to face him.

“you’re gonna be sleeping by yourself for the rest of your life if you don’t-”

“please,” his voice cracks. peter's desperate to rest and the least you could is to help out.

you heave a sigh, “peter just,” you turn towards him, keeping your lids shut, “close your eyes”

he’s quick to do so tightly, shifting around to get more comfortable, “take some deep breaths.”

peter follows your instructions, “slow your heartbeat down,” he takes a few moments to focus on the task and he begins to feel more at ease than he has the entire night. he waits a bit longer for you to continue.

“and then what?”

silence.

“y/n?”

no answer.

“y/n!” and he’s shaking your shoulders, “you can’t sleep now!”

you groan in annoyance, “just go to sleep, peter”

“you don’t think i would if i could!?” he huffs.

“well, what d’you want me to do?”

“umm,” he takes a few moments to ponder before he suggests, “ask me about my day.”

you blink one eye open at him, glaring, “it’s 2am... and you want me to ask you how your day was?”

peter blankly blinks in return, offering you a toothy grin, “mm, yea!”

you could only stare back at him blankly as he waits for you, and slowly you ask, “how was your day.”

he’s instantly giddy at your question (which definitely didn’t sound like a question), and breathes out a relieved sigh.

“i’m so glad you asked,” he shakes his head, “it was so tiring.”

he began to ramble on about how eventful his day was. and no matter how hard you tried to fight off sleep, there was something so calming about peter’s voice that puts you to sleep.

“-and she bought me a churro, so that was nice. oh, and you know howard? that homeless man on 31st?”

“mhmgh.”

gradually, he subconsciously moves closer to you, playing with a loose thread of your blanket and tucking himself in, snug against your body.

“he told me that he lost his pet pigeons when he got kicked out and he asked me to go help find them for him. i never realized how hard it was to swing while holding a couple of birds. but anyways, i still have-”

peter takes a look at you as you doze off and whines your name.

he’s shocked when you surprisingly move towards him, bringing an arm around his torso and tangling your legs with his.

at last, the boy seems calm down after awhile, focusing his breathing to follow suit with yours. talking did seem to help. now he’s finally warm, laying in bed next to the girl he loves most. and you’re pleased with your effort to help him sleep.

it's only a matter of time until he pipes up again.

“hey y/n, if I was a worm in a top hat who could only communicate with you telepathically, would you still love me?”

“dammit, peter”

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beenbaanbuun · 1 month

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birthday present w/ yunho

words - …

genre - smut

warnings - degradation, dumbification, free use, mentions of collaring, choking, marking

you can’t help but feel a little nervous as yunho stumbles into your apartment all bright eyed and giddy

he kicks his shoes off in a hurry before practically running over to the sofa and vaulting it so he can get ti you

you can barely mutter out a ‘happy birthday,’ before his mouth is on yours, silencing you with a gentle kiss

it’s soft and sweet, and you melt into it - melt into him - leaning against his chest before he pulls away with a giggle

he takes the opportunity to tug you into his side, tucking you beneath his arm and pressing another kiss to the crown of your head

“thank you, sweetheart,” he practically giggles into your ear, “cant believe i’m so old this year.”

you can only giggle as he continues to joke, telling you all about the nursing home he wants you to put him in

it isn’t until you shift the hand holding the envelope with his gift in that his words peter out, and he gives you an excited look

“is that for me?” he points to the envelope and you nod, “can i have it?”

with an anxious smile you pass it to him

he marvels it as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, as if he’s never seen an envelope before

“sorry it isn’t very big,” you cuddle up into him, loving the way his voice fills his chest and rumbles against your ear, filling up your brain with warmth

“you think i need anything big?” he grins down at you, “you could give me a lump of coal and i’d be happy because it’s from you.”

cheesy boy, you think to yourself; it’s cute, and you savour the moment knowing it won’t last

not after he’s seen your gift to him anyway…

he tears into the envelope, briefly cooing at the cute card you’d given him until the little pink slip inside it catches his eye

you’d spent a few hours decorating it last night, making it look all pretty as if he even cared about the design of it

as if he cared about anything other than the three words written across it in cursive

he pulls it out and his breath audibly hitches in his throat

“f-free use coupon,” he stutters, words garbling as they fall from his lips, “you mean… like actual free use? whenever i want?

your anxiety rests deep in your chest as he stares at you with his jaw hanging open

still, you find it in you to nod, a pretty hum falling from your lips as you let him know that that’s exactly what it means; whenever he wants

“from now until the same time tomorrow,” you chew on your lip, “you can use me whenever, however you want.”

a groan falls from his lips at your answer, low and deep; he covers it with a cough but you still hear it

then you notice the way he shuffles his hips to accommodate the tent growing beneath his sweats, desperately trying to make it seem less obvious

clearly he’s more into the idea of using you for his own pleasure than you originally thought

not that you shouldn’t have expected this; one of yunho’s favourite things to do it move you around like his own personal rag doll

his big hands all over you as he flips you over and holds you open for him

one hand on the back of your head as he pressed your face into a pillow, the other resting on your hips, angling them perfectly so he can slam into you over and over again

the memories send a needy shiver down your spine, so you force them away and instead focus back on the present…

“are you sure, sweetheart?” his voice is deeper when he speaks, and it’s clear he’s trying to keep the horniness at bay

“i wouldn’t be giving this to you if i wasn’t sure, yuyu,” you say, a cheeky grin on your face, “i am your gift; mind, body and soul.”

at the thought of you being entirely his, he groans again, but this time he doesn’t bother to hide it

it goes straight to your core, dampening it slightly

“well i guess you won’t need your clothes,” he says through his moan, voice coming out whiny and pretty, “if i have access to your body for 24 hours, then i want real access, pup.”

… pup

that nickname goes straight to your core too

he only ever calls you that when he’s being mean in bed, tone dripping with condescension as he puts you in your place and dumbs you down to nothing

you stare at him with wide eyes as your hole involuntarily clenches; you have to admit that you love nothing more than when yunho is mean

“don’t just stare at me with those big, dumb eyes,” he smirks as your hands immediately fly to the button of your jeans, “that’s my good girl.”

you’re melting already, and yunho knows it

he must have a mental list of all the buttons he has to push to get you all pliant and obedient

not that it really takes much; you’re obedient for him most of the time

there’s just something about his deep voice drawling out a ‘good girl,’ that sends shivers running through your body

and when he holds out his hand to take possession on your panties, you don’t even think twice before putting them gently in his palm

you’re his good girl after all!

he brings them to his nose and takes a sniff, inhaling the musky scent of your juices; you turn shy at the sight of his eyes fluttering closed

“sweet as always, tiny,” he mumbles as he pulls them away and tucks them into his back pocket, “i bet you taste just as good, right? so yummy for me…”

a hand flies to your core, a single finger swiping through your folds to collect the juices that are starting to gather there

he smears them around, avoiding the sensitive nub that throbs in need; he doesn’t quite want to give into you just yet

he pulls it away after mere moments and wastes little time in slipping it into his mouth, moaning as he swirls his tongue around his digit

he pulls it out with a pop and an adorable, lop-sided grin forms on his lips

in any other circumstance it would be cute; right now it just makes you feel tiny

“your pussy is my favourite flavour, pup,” he says, “but i’ll save eating it until later, yeah? i have got all day, after all.”

he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you until you’re flat against the couch, naked and exposed underneath him

he begins to move, shuffling until he’s towering over you making you feel even smaller beneath him

large hands land on either side of your head as he crawls over you, aligning his pelvis with your own

he grinds down once on your clothed pussy, his own grunt harmonising with your soft moan; the two of you sound like you are meant for one another

“i don’t think this gift was really for me,” he whispers as he grinds down again, harder this time, “i think this is just some twisted little fantasy of yours.”

his lips are on your neck in seconds, nibbling, biting and licking all over the sensitive flesh

no doubt you’d have marks aplenty by the time the 24 hours are over; hickeys and teeth marks littering your chest, your thighs, and anywhere else he can put his lips

there’s just something about seeing you covered in the physical proof that you are his that drives him absolutely wild

in fact, he’s often found himself in a pet store looking at their collection of dog collars and wondering which one would fit your pretty neck

it’s a nice thought, but for some reason it feels so much nicer to see you in a collar made of his hickeys instead

besides, it’s not like his hand wouldn’t do a similar job anyway, his fist wrapped around your throat, pinning you to his chest as he desperately fucks into you from behind

“i thought you’d appreciate it,” you whimper as his sweats work hard to spread your wetness around

“and i do, pup,” he grunts, “but your wet little pussy is telling me just how bad you want this; to be my personal cocksleave whenever i want.”

he pushes his sweats down just enough for his cock to spring free, painting your stomach with a splatter of pre-cum

“you’re my greedy little pup, aren’t you?”

he lines himself up and pushes himself in with one long, hard stroke

it makes you cry out as his tip rams against your cervix; he kisses you to swallow the sound

and when he pulls away, just seconds later, he begins to pull out again

you moan as he finds his rhythm, moving in and out at a painfully languid pace

hard and slow, each thrust fills you perfectly to the brim with yunho before he pulls back out and repeats

“but that’s okay, greedy little pup,” he grins as he stills deep inside of you, “i have all day to satiate you, don’t i?”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez headcanons #yunho oneshot #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho fluff #yunho fanfic

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thewistlingbadger · 11 months

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Is Spider-Gwen trans: An analysis

After leaving the theater yesterday for Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse, one thought sat in my mind: could Gwen be trans? This may seem like a reach, but just hear me out.

1. Trans Flags

There are two trans flags that I spotted in the movie, both of them are in Gwen's home. In Gwen's room, a small trans flags with the phrase "Protect trans kids" hangs above her doorway. Now, if Gwen isn't trans, then why would she have a trans flag in her room? Most ally's wouldn't have a trans flag in their room. Maybe someone she's close to is trans? There's only 3 people Gwen has in her life. Her father, her dead best friend, and Miles. There isn't any evidence to suggest that any of them are trans. Especially her dad and Peter, since they didn't have much screen time. The phrase is an important clue too. If she was just an ally, why the phrase "Protect trans kids"? Why not "trans rights are human rights"? That phrase is equally as popular and it's more general. Protect trans kids is personal and usually refers to anti trans legislation that affects minors. Gwen is a minor, so is it really too unbelievable to suggest that she has the flag because she's trans?

The second flag is a patch on Gwen's dad's police jacket. Does this flag mean that her dad is trans? Or, is this a dad wearing a trans flag in support of his daughter?

2. Color theory

This is a weak point, but I'm going to include it anyway. Gwen's world is full of pastels. In fact, in most scenes with Gwen in her dimension, the colors light blue, light pink, and white are in the background. Those are literally the colors of the trans flag

3. Spiderman as a trans allegory.

Now, it's no secret that a lot of trans people like the character/concept of Spiderman. For a long time, I, as a fellow trans person, didn't understand the obsession until seeing this movie. A main theme of this movie, if not Mile's franchise, is that anyone can be Spiderman. Anyone can wear the mask, each Spiderperson is unique. Spiderman isn't really a person, it's a concept, and that's why its so applicable to everyone, regardless of who they are. Spiderman is a good person with a "secret" identity who goes trough struggles and also lives a "double life". And when you look at the story like that, the trans allegory becomes clear. Across the spiderverese is a brilliant movie with an abundance of representation. To black spiderpeople, Indian spiderpeople, disabled spiderpeople, hijabi spiderpeople, even spiderpeople who are cowboys and all sorts of other different variants. If all these different people can be Spiderman at the same time, then who's to say there isn't a trans spider person? And who's to say that person isn't Gwen?

So, is Gwen Stacy trans? I don't know, and I'm not saying she is. But I think it's entirely possible and the fact that it is, the fact that any spiderperson could potentially be queer, is something to be celebrated because it opens more doors for representation.

#happy pride month #trans #transgender #queer #lgbtq+ community #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #gwen stacy #spider gwen #trans gwen stacy #mic does analysis #media #sony animation #animation #repersentantion

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deathbyathousandspiders · 10 months

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“ twenty–bucks. „

mcu!peter parker x fem!reader.

IN WHICH — the avengers had their theories about you and peter’s secret pining, but it wasn’t until a mission went wrong that they realized how serious it was.

WARNINGS (18+) → mentions of blood/wounds, cursing, angst, fluff, hurt reader.

✨masterlist✨.

2k.

Peter had been counting the minutes since you two started dating. It had been twenty months since you joined the Avengers, seventeen months since he realized how hard he’d fallen for you, nine months since you first kissed, and eight and a half months since you started your relationship.

It were though it all happened yesterday. Everything felt like it happened so fast; yet on the other hand, everything felt like it hadn’t even happened at all.

Tony Stark had scolded Peter about the difficulties of dating an Avenger, and what harm that would do to their reputation, how the government would respond, the amount of paperwork the two of you would have to fill out…blah blah blah.

Despite how often their teammates teased them, or encouraged the other to make a move, you two decided to keep your relationship a secret.

Hiding a relationship from the Avengers wouldn’t be too difficult. At least, that’s what you told him. It certainly added some adrenaline to your dynamic; the secret hand holds under the table at meetings, side–eyed conversations across the room, fucking in the storage closet as quietly as possible, the little things.

You made it all worth the risk. That is, until he remembered what the real risk of dating an Avenger really was.

Peter practically flew off the ground with how fast he ran towards you. His ears rang, deafening him from how quiet the world fell around him as he kept himself focused on your limp figure. The glossing breeze over his suit felt numbing, especially as he tripped and slid on his knees til he was finally able to take you in his arms.

“Baby..” He broke the silence, shaky fingers grazed your arm as he rolled your body over. “Babe, we–” Quick to examine you, his eyes fell wide at the large gash in your abdomen. Blood pooled out through your suit from the glass lodged in your stomach, still poking out of your skin. Peter swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from panic.

The entire world stopped moving.

His entire world stopped moving.

Everything ran cold.

Peter didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know how he could’ve let this happen. One second, you were assigned to keep watch in the abandoned foyer, and the next? Peter left you for what felt like two seconds to kick a grimy dude’s ass or two, and there you were: unconscious and bleeding out.

“Kid? Squirt?” Tony asked through the earpiece intercoms, referring to both Peter and his unconscious girlfriend. As startling as the sudden voice was, Peter needed it to ground him back to the present. “Do you kids copy?”

It took everything in Peter to keep his lip from quivering. He nearly forgot to answer with how clouded his thoughts were. Cradling you carefully in his arms, he adjusted his grip to fumble over the earpiece. “We need a medic!!” Peter exclaimed, taking in as deep of a breath as he could muster, “Y/N’s unresponsive–”

You laid cold in Peter’s shaky grasp, not moving other than the shuttered lifting and easing of your shoulders with your breath. You were still alive, and Peter tried to cling to that as much as he could. He’d lost too many people. He couldn’t bear to lose you, too.

“Don’t freak out. And don’t touch her wound.” Tony sounded extra stern, which was how he typically expressed panic. It felt like a personal jab at Peter, but he knew better than to interpret it so malicely. “Bruce has your location and is on his way now.”

Peter could barely process the sentence, but all that registered was that help was on the way. He pulled the mask off his face before pulling yours off as well. Vision blurry, he could still make out the cuts that managed to scrape your cheeks.

He pressed his lips to your hairline, holding you gently in his arms. Your skin was cold against his touch, and he treated you as delicately as he could. He knew you weren’t dead, but knowing that you got hurt and he could’ve done something to stop it, he blamed himself. And he didn’t know what else to do besides rock you back and forth while the tears spilt from his eyes.

Footsteps approached behind him, but Peter was too focused on counting your breaths to shift his focus onto them. He kept hold of you, only moving his stare from your tattered face when someone shadowed over the two of you.

Natasha met Peter’s stare for a moment before crouching down to examine your injuries. Her lips pressed into a small line, tensing at how much blood you were losing.

“Do you know what happened?” She broke through the silence — At least, what would’ve been silence if not for Peter’s choked sobs.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “She was– She was keeping watch while I.. While I fought off the–”

Rushed footsteps through the rubble of the warehouse cut Peter off as he and Natasha looked over, Bruce and Steve running in.

Peter felt Natasha snake her arms under you, lifting you out of his grasp with ease. He felt himself panic at your absence.

“W–Wait!” He cried, more intensely than he intended.

The three looked at him, curious at his urgency. They watched as he stood up, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t want to, uh- to leave her..”

A small, sympathetic smile touched Bruce’s lips as he nodded. “You don’t have to, but we gotta hurry back to the quinjet.” He started, taking steps back the way he came from, “I don’t have the supplies to treat her right now.”

“Has he eaten today?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.” Bruce replied solemnly, “I’m starting to worry about him, Nat.”

As you began to come to, faint murmurs grasped at your attention.

“He’s barely left this room since we got back yesterday. We’re lucky he’s stretching his legs to go find her some blankets.” You recognized Bruce’s voice instantly, though you kept your eyes shut as your consciousness collected itself. “I’ve never seen him so distraught.”

“Y’know..” Natasha spoke up, “He slept here last night.”

You felt your heart break and skip a beat at her words.

There was a pause. “I–I know. He was asleep beside her when I came in this morning.” Bruce mentioned.

You blinked your eyes open, quick to regret it when you were greeted by an overwhelmingly bright light.

“I can feel it, Banner.” Nat chimed, “They’re smitten.” There was a faint song to her words. “I think I caught him kissing her cheek before he left.”

It warmed your spirit to hear how affectionate Peter had been, but you could barely remember what happened, let alone why he’d be so distraught.

Bruce chuckled quietly, “I’m sure Tony will be thrilled to hear that.”

Once your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in the medical wing. Did you hit your head or something? Slowly, you sat up, freezing when the realization hit you.

Your hand flew to your lower stomach, hissing in pain at the wound by your hip. “Jesus.. Fuck!” You muttered, seething through gritted teeth. The pain was quick to shoot through every nerve in your body.

Before you could lay back down, you met eyes with an all too familiar pair as they entered the doorframe.

Peter lit up when he saw you up, rushing over. “You’re awake!” He beamed, quick to set the blankets down at the foot of the bed before he kissed you. He kissed your lips, then your cheeks a few times, then your nose, before pressing a sickly sweet kiss to your lips once more.

His hands cradled your jaw before he pulled back from the kiss, moving his hands to better support you as you laid back down.

“Baby, don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” He started, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Peter–”

“God, you scared me so bad.. I thought–” He cut himself off as he rambled, quick to shut down the dreadful thought. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up again–”

“Peter–!”

“I should’ve been more careful.. Fuck, I’m so sorry I let that happen to you–”

You gently cupped his face, “Peter!” You spoke a bit more urgently, which seemed to catch his attention. He simply stared at you while you glanced over his right shoulder about four times.

His face flushed red, turning back to meet Natasha and Bruce’s dumbfounded expressions.

They blinked at one another, each unsure of where to start.

Natasha broke the silence, pressing herself off the wall she was leaning on with a small smirk. “I’m gonna go tell Steve that he owes me twenty–bucks.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. He watched Bruce glance at the door Natasha walked out and back at Peter, “I’ll, uh.. Give you two some privacy.”

And then there were two.

His hands slid down his face as you contained your laughter, though it was hard not to. Watching your boyfriend’s face turn red was one of your few guilty pleasures.

“You couldn’t have warned me sooner?” Peter asked as he turned to you, muffling his words under the hands that covered his face. You weren’t sure how long you were out, but you knew you missed seeing how cute he was.

You missed seeing him.

You shrugged, “I tried to.” Despite the secret being out, you couldn’t care less. A small laugh spilled from your lips at how embarrassed Peter was, but it was cut off by how painful it was.

Peter sat on the bed beside you, grabbing your hand. “Easy, now.. It’s still pretty fresh.” He hushed, brushing some of your hair out of your face. His affectionate actions made your heart swell.

While the two of you stared at each other, you couldn’t help but see the solemn look that lingered in his eyes.

You brought the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his up to cup his cheek, gentle as you caressed the new purple creases under his eyes. “Peter..” You started, “I’m safe now. This wasn’t your fault either, okay?”

He looked like he was about to protest, but you were quick to him. “It’s not your fault.” You repeated. You hoped by saying it again, it would stick in his head better.

His stare flickered from one eye to the other before he sighed, defeated as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You smiled up at him, pecking his lips once or twice. “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me than some shattered window.”

He laughed quietly, his breath fanning over your lips before he whispered, “God.. I love you.”

“I love you too..” You trailed off as he leaned forward to kiss you again. No matter how long you and Peter had been dating, you never failed to feel butterflies in your stomach when he’d kiss you. It made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet.

“I fucking knew it!” Of course, you weren’t the only two people in the world. You heard someone speak from the doorframe, noticing how Peter immediately added three feet of space between the two of you.

Tony Stark looked between both of you, pointing at your connected handhold on the hospital bed in victory. He had the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen touch his face at the sight of you.

His grin made him look like he’d won the fifth–grade spelling bee. You would’ve never thought that you and Peter’s relationship would make such a grown man so happy.

“I’m going to go tell Steve he owes me twenty–bucks!”

#🐚 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕰𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝖂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝕾𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅.#🪷 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒.#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #mcu #marvel #peter parker mcu #marvel imagines #imagine #x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tasm peter #peter parker blurb #fluff

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iaure · 11 months

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𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3: 𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 CW: self-awareness, stalking, obsession, delusion, ptsd, mention of a brother's death, thoughts of kidnapping. Written in the third person. Use of Y/N. Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ heaven have mercy on my simple soul. we might have another dearest series on our hands, but for miguel. god. jesus. i made this in one (1) day. it's two am.

wc: 1.7k

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻❜𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀.

Miguel knew that feeling all too well. Gabriella faded away in his arms, a flash of technicolour and geometric shapes. An entire world, falling away and escaping from him, like grains of glass as fine as sand but still so colourful. That's what kept him moving. He never wanted someone to make the same mistake. But he was only a man. he couldn't be alone in the isolation of his own making forever. He built up those walls, praying he'd have the sense to never knock them down. But brick by brick, other people did. First was Jess. She was his friend, his sister in arms. Then Peter, then a thousand other faces and names and hearts and morals and everything that made Spider-Man, Spider-Man. They each took a brick, as though it was nothing. It was just by pure chance that she was the one to take that last brick. She was a new addition. Friendly, witty, quick on her feet. Just like everyone else. Another Spider in another place and another time. Another in a million, another clone, another warm body as fodder. But when Jess brought her to him, Miguel knew; she was one in a trillion.

She had stood next to Jess, firm, with a thousand yard stare like she'd been digging around Miguel's soul and yanking out her favourite bruises. Harrowing was a good word for it. Her estranged brother, a captain in the police, had died. She looked like she'd seen Hell. Fresh bruises, scarring, her suit torn in some places...and she stood tall.

"Spider-Woman, from Earth 7290. Also known as Y/N."

Jess spoke softly, a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Her breathing was steady but her eyes had glazed over, completely tapped out to the situation. Miguel felt his heart tug. He knew what it was like. Everyone did. Most Spiders were sad, upset, but she simply seemed...angry. Furious, even. Like if Miguel made a move towards her, she'd chew him up and spit him out. He'd seen people try to tame horses before, ones that would buck and kick and neigh until someone's leg was broken. It was like Jess was doing that. The one hand on Y/N's shoulder, keeping her in place.

"Miguel?" Jess spoke up, and he came out of his haze. "Are you listening?" "Yeah." He nodded, quietly clearing his throat. "Sure. Get her a watch." Jess shared a look with Y/N, one that he couldn't quite tell the reasoning behind, but the glance of her eyes was enough.

Spider-Woman of Earth 7290 took the last brick.

He'd see Y/N around, walking around the Spider Society and speaking with other Spiders. She seemed to hold that anger close to her heart, despite the other Spiders telling her that it'd get better over time. They'd healed, or got over it, or pushed it out of their mind. But not Y/N. She stayed mad. She stayed angry. Miguel understood that more than most. Mourning took time. So many had gotten over it after years. It wasn't fair to expect Y/N get it over it so fast. He didn't think so, anyway. After all, it was an anomaly that took her brother's life. A mistake. It had fallen off the proverbial map, but according to Jess, Y/N had 'handled it her own way'. Whatever that meant. Miguel didn't really care. All he worried about was her. Rather than just taking the brick off his walls, she smashed it in with a hammer and ran it over with a bulldozer. She had a wrecking ball to smash a single blue and red brick. And he hated it. Because what about Gabriella? What about his wife? Did their deaths mean nothing now? And how was this healthy? Granted, Miguel wasn't a healthy person. Not like that. But the sudden way his mind dedicated himself to her was absurd. Did it have to do with his DNA? With the spider mutation? Rapture? Mating season? There had to be an explanation. A cure.

But there was none.

Now, Miguel's mind was rotting away. He wished he could pry it open and take to it with tweezers, to prod out the parts that he hated. But his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, and he knew he didn't stand much of a chance anymore. It was all Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Even just the faint, passing scent of her was enough to drive him up a wall that very much shouldn't exist. Passing word of her wellbeing made him tune into conversations he was never part of. He began to develop a seventh sense: touch, hearing. sight, smell, taste, spidersense, and Y/Nsense.-the uncanny ability to know when she needed help. Trademarked, owned by Miguel O'Hara exclusively. Peter once teased him about how Miguel would suddenly jump up and scoot over to the cameras, checking in on Spider-Woman 7290.

The teasing didn't last long when given way to the severity of the situation.

Gradually, Miguel leaned into it. If he couldn't fight it, then join it. Revel in it. Let his eyes linger on her frame. Let his waking hours resort to thinking of her. Let him suffer. He deserved it. He began to follow Y/N around. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And sometimes, Miguel would see enemies-a Vulture here, a Doc Ock there-and he'd help when she wasn't looking. Little favours here and there began cropping up. Getting her groceries. Taking care of her cat. Fiddling with the gas for the car of the one creep that kept following her around that was so sure she was Spider-Woman. Granted, the creep was right. But he didn't know that.

(He did. Love comes in many shapes and forms.)

Y/N never seemed to notice. She was off, battling her own demons and fighting the good fight in her own world. She was good and kind and still angry but she used that anger so well, and Miguel loved her for it. She burned with the anger of a thousand dying stars. She was everything. When Y/N would stop by the Spider Society, Miguel made sure to look good. Brush his hair, brush his fangs, make sure his eye bags weren't too obvious, or if they were, then they looked good. He was trying to get her to like him, after all. Check to make sure his suit didn't have any tears or holes. Because Y/N was gorgeous. She could drag herself in with her guts spilling out like roadkill and he'd still think she's the most beautiful thing to grace the multiverse.

The beauty of delusion, he supposed.

He was aware how delusional this was. He knew how absurd it was that he saw her and fell immediately. Was this what happened in fairy tales? Is this what Prince Charming felt when he saw Cinderella? The world completely spinning the moment there's even a hint of her? The complete dedication of his heart to this woman that barely acknowledged him...someone who would only glance his way if it was a requirement. Y/N was cordial to him, but little more. And it made his heart ache. She spoke to Jess more than she spoke to him. It felt wrong. It felt cruel, like a tease, trailing up and down his spine but never providing relief. One word to him was ten to Jess.

Miguel refuses to admit it, to accept that he was willing to stoop so low. But there was a brief moment where he thought about hurting Jess. Or getting her on some mission that would take forever. Breaking her bracelet when she least expected it so Y/N would have to come to him.

He'd never act on it. He was sure of that.

If there was one thing Miguel was proud of for himself, it was his restraint. He had the unparalleled ability to simply...hold off. Another day, he'd tell himself. Next time, he'd self-assure. Then another next time. Then another. Until heaven knows how many next times it's been, and he's aching for her to even look at him, but why won't she glance his way? Why was she so cold? He's done everything he could. Just look at him! For god's sake, just fucking look at him! That's all he wanted! Five minutes with your eyes on him, your undivided attention.

But no. Another day, he said. Next time.

But maybe he could simply...take Y/N away. Her world was inconsequential. It'd be easy to take care of any villains. He'd do it for her, single-handedly. She were everything. He could just keep her there, in his office, never allowed to leave. He could come back after a long mission to her loving arms, her warm embrace, flush to flush to flush to flush. He'd do unspeakable things just for her to trace the vague outline of his body with her eyes. If Y/N told him to kill, he'd do so without question anymore. Miguel barely had any control over himself.

The next time he saw her, it was while dealing with Miles. It was so much, all at once and never at all and undying and swarming his senses. It was so much that he didn't realise how much she'd been smiling at the two teenagers, how sweet her gaze got, the gentle touches and warm laughter and how Gwen and Miles looked up to her.

He didn't know Y/N had a soft spot for kids. And he found out most vividly when she was the first one to help Miles escape, blocking off what must've felt like half of the Spider Society with the same undying rage, now spent on protecting her new friend, the child she called such sweet things. That she saw as her own.

Miguel felt his heart shatter when he had to take her down. The way she fell into the floor, limp and dangling like she was nothing more than occupied space. His heart was wounded, wailing like a dying dog. She picked the newcomer, the anomaly, over him. Him, her one true love. Did it matter that she'd known it yet? No. It only mattered that she helped Miles escape.

Lord, he thought. I worry that love is violence.

#divagaciones (per)#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #i am a girlboss i am a war criminal i am a lunatic and i am clinically insane and the next virgin mary and i am never going to die

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briebysabs · 11 months

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Across the Spider-verse spoilers///

Miguel fine af but Miles really should’ve beat his fat ass harder cuz wtf you mean calling him a mistake and blaming him for his Peter dying?? I’m sorry that pissed me off so much like Miles didn’t ask to get bit. Miles isn’t the one who made the collider, Miles didn’t bring Earth 42’s spider to his world GOD.

There’s a lot of anger, resentment, projecting and borderline envy going on. But I really liked how complex Miguel was in this movie. But some of y’all need to see he is wrong or at the very least, his way of going about things is wrong. Also explain to me why I’ve seen more hate targeted towards Gwen, someone who was conflicted the entire movie and Jess. Who should’ve stuck up for Gwen but clearly shows remorse at the end. More than Miguel bro make it make sense.

If you’re able to understand where Miguel is coming from, why can’t you also understand Gwen? Or did people straight up ignore the first 15 minutes of the movie? Like I too was disappointed with Gwen’s lying but one of the main reasons she did all this IS SO SHE DOESN’T GET SENT BACK HOME.

Where her father knows her identity and tried to arrest her. Where she currently has nowhere to live and crashes at Hobie’s place. How about we call out the adults that used that as leverage against a 16-17 year old, adults that watched it all go down too. Like people act like she had it against Miles when you see clearly that she only wants to protect him. She can’t lose another friend and obviously it backfired on her.

This is an amazing film but I’ve heard some absolutely dumb takes already. Some going as far to call Miguel racist WHICH MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE. Yeah we were joking and there are obvious metaphors to the ‘Miles being a Afro-latino Spider Man backlash’ but no idiot, he doesn’t hate black people. Miles could be any race Miguel would still react the way he did.

#spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv spoilers #atsv #spiderman itsv #spiderman #miles morales #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #gwen stacy #peter parker #spider woman #movie #across the spiderverse #jessica drew #animation #Sony

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giantmushyfriend · 4 months

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Welcome back to the Ineffable lyric discussion (can I hear a wahoo)

In honor of the announcement of season 3 of our beloved Good Omens, I find it completely necessary for us to discuss one of the many songs on Aziraphale and Crowley's angelic playlist that made me scream my bloody head off. One of those songs is the one and only The Book of Love by Peter Gabriel. While I UNDERSTAND this song may have just been chosen to spell out SEASON THREE, I think it goes much deeper than that because of all of the parallels it draws to Aziraphale and Crowley. And ultimately, what I think is going to happen in terms of their relationship when they finally sort their shit out. So beware if you haven't watched season 2 of Good Omens because we're about to do a fucking DEEP DIVE into this.

First, the title of the Book of Love feels almost like a call to this looming threat to the Book of Life that was consistently used in series 2. The entire season, Crowley and Aziraphale have to work oh so carefully because with the Book of Life being confirmed, they know that either of them could get the other erased, and whether they want to admit it or not, losing the other is their biggest fear. We've seen this when Crowley believed Aziraphale to be dead in Series 1 when he couldn't feel Aziraphale's presence anymore since he got incorporated. When Aziraphale isn't there, Crowley is a mess. Likewise, we saw how both reacted during the ineffable divorce scene in series 2. Crowley is full-on begging Aziraphale to stay, and Aziraphale has finally admitted that he needs Crowley and full-on mouths for Crowley not to leave him. The Book of Life inherently, from how Neil set it up, feels threatening. The Book of Love, on the other hand, raises an entirely other reaction. Throughout the series, as corny as it sounds, love has been what grounds our protagonists. It is the love of Tadfeild and his friends that keeps Adam from kickstarting the end of the world; it's what keeps him from rejecting his father, the literal devil. It is the love of the earth, of humanity and all its strange creations, and for each other that keeps Aziraphale and Crowley attempting to prevent the end of the world when it could be so much easier to just accept the fate of it all. Love is the key theme that grounds our protagonists, that makes them tick. Love is safe; love is, at times, painful but overall kind. So when we see this title on their playlist, listed amongst heartwrenching tales of grieving a relationship, you could have had, and of loss, it brings a sense of salvation and safety. The Book of Love, unlike the Book of Life, is not a threat- it's a sanctuary for Aziraphale and Crowley.

Now, diving into the lyrics.

"The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts, and figures, and instructions for dancing

But I

I love it when you read to me.

And you

You can read me anything"

The first couple of verses inherently feel like Aziraphale and Crowley's original view on this notion of love. As two supernatural entities who aren't bound by human emotion or logic, love may seem superficial and downright silly at times. The courting procedures that different societies have taken on throughout the centuries and the songs and dances that come along with it may all seem like a big waste. The book of love is a manifestation of love itself, and originally, it seems unappetizing to our protagonists. That is until they refind each other, and love goes from this thing that humans feel and jump through hoops for to this tidal wave of emotions. Love felt silly and unrealistic before, but with each other, they are willing and excited to explore it, even if it comes with things that feel inherently silly.

Also, these verses draw some cute parallels to headcanons and features of cannons. If you've been involved in the Good Omens fandom long enough, you've probably stumbled across the idea that Crowley asks Aziraphale to read to him for a multitude of different reasons. Some people say it's because his eyes aren't meant to read, one of the many punishments that came with him being cast down from grace, or maybe it's just because he finds Aziraphale's voice comforting. Additionally, the line about instructions for dancing is just so heartwarming when we look at the ball scene from this past season and Aziraphale's daydreams of a romance worthy of a Jane Austin novel.

"The book of love is long and boring

And written very long ago

It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes

Adn things we're all too young to know

but I

I love it when you give me things

and you

You ought to give me wedding rings"

I'm sure we've all heard this idea that you'll understand love when you get older, but even when you get older, it never seems to make sense. This idea that love is too old for any of us to truly understand, and that humbles us but in the best way possible. There is no point in trying to figure out what exactly love is because you could spend thousands of years feeling it and watching it happen all around you and still not know exactly what it is besides this all-encompassing feeling. And that is exactly the perspective of Aziraphale and Crowley. They have seen countless examples of love, true, unwavering love, and they have felt it for each other. And yet they themselves cannot begin to fathom what love, true unconditional love, is exactly. These two supernatural, ethereal/occult beings are humbled by the very concept of love like humans are- and that love is drawn from each other.

And then there is this notion of giving, which pairs so well with Crowley's primary love language, acts of service and gift giving. If the first chorus was Crowley talking about how he loves it when Aziraphale reads to him and takes care of him, then this is Aziraphale talking about how Crowley displays his love. And this final notion of asking for that final commitment, one of the key ways humans express their love for each other, is just amazing. Because in a way, Aziraphale moving to make this commitment, to fully be on their side in this way, is the resolution we have been wanting since the beginning. For Aziraphale to finally feel safe enough to let go and finally let himself settle to where he finally belongs, on his side with Crowley.

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alittlebitofsainz · 8 days

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- you swear that you listened -

prompt: “so take me to every party and just talk to your friends.”

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: why did he even bring you to meet his friends if he was going to forget you even existed? featuring an important conversation and a dog at the party

a/n: lyrics from track #65 - worst of you by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“babe, what’s up with you? you’ve been quiet all night.”

“yeah, maybe it’s cos you didn’t talk to me for the entire time.” you shot back, both your words and tone harsher than you’d intended. logan was silent after that, and you stole a glance across to him sat in the passenger seat, immediately feeling guilty when you saw the wounded look on his face. you turned your gaze back to the road ahead with a heavy sigh.

it wasn’t really your fault that you were in such a bad mood; it had been your first time meeting a bunch of his childhood friends, stressful enough without the added bonus of you being the designated driver, so you had had to watch everyone slowly getting more and more intoxicated while you nursed the same diet coke for three hours straight. you’d offered to stay sober, but only because logan had emphasised that he hadn’t seen these friends in years, and it would be really nice to catch up with them over a beer, and you don’t really drink that much anyway, so you don’t mind driving, right?

“I don’t mind.” you’d said, because you knew logan had been having a tough season, and you wanted nothing more than to see him enjoying himself with his friends. and you. that had been the key part that was missing. you tried to join in on their conversations, you really did, but they were full of stories from the time before you even knew logan, sentences always seeming to start with “do you remember when…”. and every time you tried to speak up, to input something, the topic would change again, someone speaking over the top of you to remind the group of another funny anecdote from their past. you tried to catch logan’s eye, but to no avail, too wrapped up in old memories and the beer in his hand.

eventually you’d made an excuse about going to find the toilet, and disappeared off into a living room that no one was in. you weren’t even sure whether logan had noticed you were gone; you could still hear the ringing of his laughter drifting through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. at the least the dog came to find you. dogs were always the best thing at parties.

the worst part was that you didn’t know how to handle this. it had never happened before, you weren’t used to it. logan was always so attentive, so loving, so caring. he never failed to tell you, or show you, how much you really meant to him, his light shining through the darkness that had been this rollercoaster of a season. but around his friends, he just seemed different. like he’d forgotten you were even there.

the silence lasted the rest of the drive home. you once risked a glance across to logan, but his head was turning away, chin resting in his hand, his elbow propped against the passenger window, looking out at the world passing by as if he was deep in thought. from this angle, you couldn’t read his expression. you didn’t know if you even wanted to.

“I’m sorry, please, y/n, if I’ve done something wrong…”

logan tried again as you entered his apartment, his words slurred slightly, reminding you that now wasn’t time for this conversation when he was several beers deep and you were stone cold sober.

“really, lo, it’s…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it’s fine, so you just shook your head instead. “let’s just talk about it in the morning, okay?” you murmured, catching a glimpse of his crestfallen expression as you passed by him, a sight that made your heart ache. you both got ready for bed without speaking again, the tension in the air uncomfortable.

and when morning rolled around and the sun filtering through the curtains woke you from sleep, you found yourself still reluctant to talk about it. you rolled over, turning to face logan, only to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you.

“you were mad at me.”

you bit back a sarcastic good morning to you too. now was not the time.

“what?” you tried feigning ignorance, voice quiet.

“last night, you were mad at me.” logan repeated, and you realised you weren’t getting out of this one. “why? I don’t get it; did you not have a good time?”

you blinked, letting his word settle in your mind, before your brows folded into a soft frown.

“you didn’t even notice?” you murmured, knowing what the answer would be.

“notice what?” logan’s face scrunched up in confusion, searching back through his memories, desperately trying to remember something specific in the haze of what had happened last night. you sighed. it was the answer you’d been expecting, and dreading.

“I left, like, halfway through. went and sat in the living room. alone.” you explained, trying to spell it out for him. logan’s confused expression deepened.

“w- wha- why?” he stuttered, propping himself up on his elbow, “baby, you should’ve told me if you weren’t having a good-“

“I tried to!” you cut him off sharply, tone growing exasperated, “I tried to, but I couldn’t get your attention. not even for two minutes. it felt like I wasn’t even there.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to argue back with. now that he thought about it, you were right. he had barely noticed you, once he was surrounded by his friends and stories of old times, and he felt fucking awful about it.

“I’m sorry. oh, fuck, babe, I really am sorry.” he stammered, trying to get all his apologies out at once, words tripping out over his tongue. you both appreciated and hated seeing him so remorseful; you knew you couldn’t just let it slide, or it would only happen again and make you feel worse, but at the same time you knew logan was genuinely sorry.

“it’s okay, lo.” you reached out a hand, taking his in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. he drew in a soft breath, as if he expected a fight instead of forgiveness, and when his eyes met yours again they were glistening with unshed tears of remorse, “it was an accident, I know you didn’t mean to. everyone makes mistakes, right? we’re learning together.” you continued, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched him relax slightly, tension leaving his shoulders. he nodded, ducking his head away to try and hide the tear thar had slipped down his cheek.

“right,” he agreed shakily, “I’m still sorry I made you feel forgotten about, really. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” you replied softly, releasing his hand from yours and instead holding out both your arms as a silent invitation. logan was only too happy to accept, shuffling across the bed towards you and burying his head into the crook of your neck, your arms securing around his back. you felt him take a deep breath into your shoulder, chest rising deeply before falling back down again.

“I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, voice muffled as he rested his cheek against your skin. you chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I know. I love you too, Lo.”

a/n: i tried so hard to leave this on a more angsty ending but honestly i just can’t be mean to logan for more than five seconds he deserves happiness even if its just in fictional form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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kquil · 1 month

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REGULUS BLACK | HOLD HER! PART 0.5

SUM. : you have a bizarre encounter with regulus because james couldn’t help himself —but his heart was in the right place at least (a prequel to part 1)

TAGS. : fluff ; grumpy regulus ; sunshine reader ; grumpy x sunshine trope ; you don’t have to read the first part to read this ; James being a defensive, protective older brother type ; James doesn’t condone slander ; inspired by a scene in demon slayer ; we love James ; but he can be a little much sometimes… ; but he’s perfect~ ; my James simp is showing ; excuse me~

LENGTH : 0.7k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

PART 1

“Regulus!” You call, waving enthusiastically towards the aloof Slytherin. It was break time between morning and afternoon classes and most people were on their way to the dining hall for food, except Regulus and his few friends who were going the opposite direction.

Beside you, the marauders give you an incredulous look. They understood how bubbly and bright you were, able to befriend anyone you came across, however, when it came to Sirius’ younger brother, hardly anyone was a tough enough contender to break through Regulus Black’s stone walls.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” the older Black brother utters in disbelief from beside you. His voice is a whisper and whether anyone heard him or not, they never showed it.

As expected, Regulus narrows his eyes at you and scowls deeply. He looks both offended and disgusted at your greeting towards him.

Sirius frowns deeply at his younger brother’s antisocial behaviour while Remus tries to keep a neutral face despite his instincts wanting to kick in and protect you. The lycanthrope has grown a sisterly fondness for you, all of the marauders have, but him especially seeing as you were the very few people who could actually cheer him up before and after a full moon. Naturally, Peter cowers slightly at the confrontation but tries to mask his fear — although unsuccessful from the intensified glare directed his way and the satisfied smirk that followed on the small circle of friends around Regulus. James doesn’t seem to mind the interaction at all, smiling harmlessly throughout the interaction. Look at you making friends! He’s so proud!

“Aren’t you going to eat lunch?” You ask with an adorable tilt of your head as Regulus feels his eye twitch. This has to be a sham…nobody really acts like this.

“That’s none of your business,” Regulus is loyal to his principle of keeping all interactions brief; his response epigrammatic. However, it’s forced through clenched teeth, his tone biting and a direct opposition to the calm demeanour he famously displays.

“But what if you get hungry later on? Won’t you get stomach pains?”

“Again,” the younger Black brother emphasises his irritation with the narrowing of his eyes, “that’s none of your concern,” you want to continue arguing, saddened by his resistance; nobody should feel hungry during classes, it makes the hours drag on far longer than necessary, “now move out of my way, this whole act of yours isn’t cute —you’re not cute,”

Sirius scoffs and begins to pull you into his side as Remus steps away with Peter to make way, both frowning deeply at the way the Slytherin spoke to you. James, however, was stock still, the world suddenly moving at a snails pace around him.

‘Not cute?’ James looks at you, his earlier smile slowly slipping away as he blinks his face between you and Regulus, ‘Not cute…NOT CUTE?!’

“WhaT dID YoU SAy?!!” James screeched loud enough to draw the entire hall of students’ attention, “LIES!” He continues to defend as everyone looks at him as if he’s lost his mind, even Regulus who was an expert at keeping his expression some cold.

“Jame—“ You’re cut off when James reaches over and holds your face with one hand, cupping his palm under your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks and turn your lips outwards, rendering you unable to speak.

“ShE’S thE CUTEst! JUST lOok at HER! Her BEAutY is LiKe NO OthEr! Do YOu KNow hOW MaNy PeOPLe I’ve HAd to SCarE AwaY from APPrOchInG Her wITh bAD InTenTIONS?!” James emphasises by pulling you close to his side with his other arm and stepping the two of you closer to Regulus who steps back. He doesn’t know how to describe it but Regulus felt threatened by the fire fiercely blazing in James’ eyes, “YoU JUsT nEEd to See heR in BeTTEr LiGHTinG! THATS ALL! ThESE STupiD HaLLWay CanDLes ARen’t ENOUGH!” James reaches for the younger Slytherin, a game plan already forming in his head, “CoME wITh ME!”

“Get away from me, Potter!” Regulus hurriedly steps away from the older Gryffindor’s grip, flustered and avoiding your adorably squished face. Paired with your large, round eyes, puffed out, pouty lips and dinky nose… your winsome features are nowhere near cute!

Regulus makes his escape by forcing his way past, his heart racing from the adrenaline of the bizarre encounter just adrenaline.

You’re not cute. You’re not cute. You’re not cute. YOU’RE NOT…cute…

A/N : i wrote this incredibly sleep deprived but inspired. i hope you enjoyed <3

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax @girl-detective16 @riaa-moony @ericityyy

#regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #regulus imagine #regulus black imagine #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x female reader #marauders #marauders era fanfiction #hp marauders

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sacharinee · 11 months

Note

thinking ab peter having a bad tiring day and reader giving him face massages and body massages after they take a bath ‼️

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 780

a/n: hi anon!! i loved writing for this request sm so thank u for sending it <3 i did, however, completely forget to write abt the part about them taking the bath together. im so sorry 😭 but i hope u still enjoy :(( about one spider-man kiss and a ton of domestic!peter

peter knows exactly what he needs right now after a long day.

there’s only one thing in the world that could make up for having a shitty day and that’s you.

but unfortunately for peter, when he patters into your shared apartment, you’re nowhere to be found.

“babe?” he calls out.

he strips himself of his shoes and walks down the short hall to your bedroom, only to find the closet open and your work clothes missing. peter skrinks at your absence and pouts, “great.”

he ponders about taking a nap, but it’s a quarter to nine and he’d rather be awake when you arrive home.

when his stomach growls, he realizes he’s gone almost an entire day without a proper meal, save for the granola bar you shoved in his hand before he kissed you goodbye.

as he enters the kitchen, he finds a note left on the counter, scribbled in your handwriting,

“emergency shift at the hospital, back by 9 tonite. food in the fridge, love you!”

peter frowns at your note, sticks it onto the fridge, and pulls out the meal you prepared for him.

he heats up the food and chews the stale chicken slowly. he really misses you. even with your bland food and lack of seasoning, he still enjoys anything from you. you try your best for him.

when he’s finished cleaning his dishes, peter debates on showering. he wants to wait for you, to take a nice hot shower with you, and clean each other’s stress away. but he’s really stinky from work, and he’d rather just go to bed with you. so he undresses and takes a long shower alone.

—

peter’s prayers are answered when he reenters the shared bedroom dressed in pajamas.

“hi baby,” you chirp. you take off your glasses and set the book you were reading aside.

peter’s heart swells at the sight. you’re laying on your side of the bed, hair in a bun, away from your face. you’re dressed in your boyfriend’s plaid boxers and a geeky t-shirt you stole from his dresser.

the tv is playing some rerun of your favorite tv show as he crawls himself across the bed and plops himself in between your open legs.

peter nests his heavy head upon your pelvis and lets out a deep sigh. your palms run down his clad back, kneading the tense muscles.

“did you eat yet?” he tries to nod his head, “yea, chicken was good, super tasty, thanks, y/n/n” he replies.

he may or not be telling you the whole truth. you’re cooking wasn’t amazing, but he would never tell you that.

peter flips himself over, staring at you adoringly upside down. your soft hands trace his buff arms, comfort spreading throughout his skin from your touch, “what happened today, petey?”

he exhales, furrowing his brows, and squeezes his eyes shut. he juts his bottom lip out while you weave your fingers and pull through his damps locks.

“everything went wrong today. everything,” he takes a deep breath, “i was late for biochem, had a pop quiz for psych. not that it was hard but still. i forgot i had tutoring today too, so i'm out fifteen bucks. and we were understaffed for work, so that was a bust. so many mean customers in queens,” he takes a look at you, “we should move somewhere else.”

you snicker at his comment and slide your fingers over his funky left eyebrow, smoothing out the knit and massaging his temples, “yea, like where?”

you love all versions of peter, but you think this is your favorite. relaxed at your touch, devoting himself wholeheartedly to you. he’s embraced and fully engulfed by you, like putty in your hands.

“like,” your boyfriend seems distracted, voice deep, staring at you with nothing but affection, “sunnyside? maybe?” peter licks his lips and clears his throat, “just somewhere safer, nicer. for you.”

you’re beaming down at his face; your warm hands cup his cheeks while you land a long and overdue tender kiss upside down. you feel peter smile into the kiss, exhaling through his nose in contentment.

you keep your hands on his face and gently caress the soft skin as you pull away.

“that sounds nice,” your heart squeezes at the thought as he continues, “we could settle down there, have a family, you know? white picket fence and all. ‘m picturing you in your hot scrubs, bringin’ home the bacon. and i’ll be at home, taking care of the kids.”

you’re giggling at the scene as you chime in, “and we could have family dinners every saturday night, or- ooh! i could take yoga classes sunday mornings and-”

peter snickers at you, “what you need are some cooking classes.”

gasping, you flick his forehead, “you said you loved my cooking!”

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rainroses45 · 10 months

Text

Imagine miguel catching you reading smut. the way you would throw the book across the room only for him to shoot a web and catch it.

“what’s this?” he asks curiosity flipping over the pages reading the dirty lines, all while you curl yourself up in a ball blushing. you would try to escape the area at first but then he would start to read the lines out loud.

“his length sprung out as its red tip-“ “SHUT UP YOU FURRY FACED TROGLODYTE!” you screamed as you tackled him to the floor trying to take the book out of his hands.

“her loins burned with passion while he sucked on her perked breast. you actually like this stuff?” he smirked at you as he flipped to the next page. you stood up seeing no point in trying to deny it anymore. before you could respond, the door slammed open causing miguel to stand up still with the book in his hand.

and peter just walks in like “hey i read that book before, personally she should have got with nate but adams jawline was to DIE FOR.” miguel just looks at him like “wtf” while you rush over to him fangirling.

soon miles walks in along with gwen and hobie only to see you and peter squealing so hard. miguel’s just stands there still with the book in his hand wondering how could he have avoided all this.

“what are you guys jumping up and down for?” gwen raised an eyebrow at the both of you. miguel was about to explain the situation when peter interrupted.

“i walked in to see miguel reading the most dirtiest yet well written romance book ever.” everyone just turns around to see a blushing miguel who is stumbling over his words.

“well no this isn’t actually my book…ummm this is y/n’s book….i-y/n you can jump in at any time now.”

“oh no i think you are doing fine by yourself, it was your flaming loins you were complaining about.” you giggled as miguel gave you the most betrayed look of the entire world. the one scene were he just stands there shocked, yeah that is what he would be doing.

hobie would never let him live this moment down, and miles would be less afraid of him yet more weird with him. it was just uncomfortable knowing that he read smut, same with gwen she would just be a tad bit awkward with him.

peter would be throwing romance recommendations left and right and trying to start a spider book club which miguel would turn down every time.

you on the other hand experienced what is was like to feel your loins on fire for serval nights after that incident. but you weren’t complaining, miguel learned some ideas after reading your book ;)

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #miles morales #gwen stacy #atsv hobie #hobie brown #spiderman spiderverse #spiderman across the verse #smut #caught in 4k

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potions-of-dark-devotion · 4 months

Text

Everyone Dreams of Going to Hogwarts

Every fan of Harry Potter has indulged in the fantasy of waiting for an Owl to deliver the fateful letter that will declare your future as a witch or wizard at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Every one of us old or young had dreamed of riding the train at Kings Cross Station, taking the boats across the black lake and seeing the castle for the first time, of having dinner in the great hall, of finally figuring out where you belong in the world and it just feeling right. They fantasize about seeing their common room for the first time finally feeling that warm sense of belonging and meeting the friends that you will keep for the rest of your life. Every single one of us had fantasized about meeting our professors, exploring the grounds and discovering our latent potential. It’s a comfort for many of us and happy place to go in our minds to escape reality.

For the witches and wizards of the Wizarding World that childhood fantasy is their reality. They too wait with bated breath for their letters. They too fantasize about finally feeling that “at home” feeling, the feeling that you finally belong to something bigger and more wonderful than their wildest dreams. The chance to prove themselves. The chance to start over for many, the chance to leave their sometimes abusive homes for a place that finally actually feels like home to them. Harry was one of those people. Dumbledore was one of those people. Hermione, Ron and even Neville all find this sense of belonging sooner or later. They all find their forever home at Hogwarts the way we all dream.

Now imagine being Seveurs Snape.

You live in a house with a father that doesn’t understand you and screams and yells at you and your mother on a daily basis and you feel so alone in the world. You have one peer who appreciates in you the magic that allows you to rise above the squaller and cruelty in which you live. You have one friend who sees you for who you are and appreciates that about you truly, while being forced to inhabit a world that not only doesn’t understand you but is actually often openly hostile to you. Hogwarts, you beleive, will be your escape from this hell, and best of all you get to take this wonderful friend with you. You are being whisked away to a fairy tale castle where dreams come true and you will finally feel safe and finally feel a real sense of home. You stay up all night all week waiting by the door in the early morning for the letter that is finally going to change your life. You pour over it with your best friend, going over every aspect of this incredible opportunity in your mind over and over. You’re planning how you’ll make the most of it. You finally let yourself look forward to something, to open your heart to something, to dream of something. Your greatest hearts desire to this moment is finally coming true.

Then you get on the train.

And the hell begins before the first day has ever even started. Your friend is angry at you for something entirely out of your control, and even though you make up destiny has deigned that on this day you will meet the person that will destroy any hope you ever entertained of Hogwarts being a home at all. His name is James Potter. His partners in the crimes which will forever change your life are Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. From the moment you meet you are ridiculed by them, physically abused by them, and the worst part is from this day forward it is never going to end.

Your best friend is put not just in a different house but in the house that hates your house the most, and from this day forward you will forever have a strain on the only true friendship you’ve ever had. From this day forward you will have to meet them either in secret or at least in private to avoid angering both your houses at best and facing ridicule at worst. The moments you stole with this friend in the muggle hell will ironically be the only moments of peace you’ll truly have with them. Not only that, but they are sorted into the same house that 4 of your worst tormentors reside in.

But it’s even worse. Because although at home you can escape form your father and potential school bullies by hiding yourself away in some nook or cranny, making yourself scarce, staying out late at night in the woods or just being as quiet as possible; you will never be able to escape the torment that now awaits every day. You have classes with them, you run into them, you see them trying to take away the only friend you have every day. And it doesn’t even end there, now they have a tracking device that you don’t know about, but somehow they manage to find you no matter where you hide. No matter where you go they are somehow always there. No matter who you talk to, they all act like you’re crazy. Because none of the other professors or students know about the marauders map they find you strange for jumping at every blow of the wind. Because they don’t know about the map they don’t believe you at all when you try to explain that somehow James Potter and his gang seem to pop up conveniently every single place you go to hide and they even blame you for trying to figure out how to protect yourself. They tell you you’re bringing it on yourself for being too weird or too jumpy or too nosy. Even your best friend in the world is starting to doubt you. You feel like you’re going insane.

So you try to have your tormentors expelled. You try so hard to figure out something, anything that will end the days on end of suffering and abuse. But you’re the weird kid. You’re the ugly kid. You’re the emo goth kid. Nobody gives a shit about you and you know it. You know you’re on your own. You’re a half blood, so the the people in your house who were supposed to have your back ignore you at best and tease you about it at worst for letting Gryffindor students get the best of you. Any hope you had of Hogwarts being your home has been destroyed.

So you try to follow James and The Gang around. Yes everyone sees you as creepy for this, becusse you don’t have a map that magically tells you where they will be at all times. You have to go about it the old fashioned way. You hide behind bushes, you peak around corners. Yes everyone finds you creepy now on top of everything else, but it’ll be worth it if you can finally enjoy what was promised to you at age 11, a home. You’ll finally be able to breathe.

But no. Instead what happens is your tormentors figure out that you know that they are putting the lives of students in danger by wandering the grounds with a werewolf against the wishes of the headmaster. You know that if you can just prove it that the torment will be over, but what you don’t know is that they are one step ahead of you, and for the unimaginable crime of trying to thwart them; they are going to plan to inflict a dangerous illness of lycanthropy on you at best, maul you to death at worst. You are close to both your proof and your death when one of them gets cold feet at the last minute and decides he doesn’t in fact want to go to prison.

You think “maybe it’s finally over now”, “maybe everyone will see now that they are cruel, that this is what they’re really like”, “maybe I’ll finally get a moment of peace, maybe Dumbledore and Lily will finally beleive me”. But no. Of course not. Because remember, you’re the weird emo Slytherin kid and your life is secondary. It always has been. Dumbledore swears you to secrecy to protect one of your tormentors, so you get no justice for the attempt on your life. Because Dumbledore had forbidden you to speak about your traumatic experience of almost being murdered, your best friend doesn’t beleive you at all and instead blames you for sneaking around. They don’t even give you the chance to defend or explain yourself. Instead you’re made out to be the creepy bad guy who wants to destroy the Potter Gang out of jealously.

Worst of all you secretly suspect that your best friend has a thing for the person who makes your life a living hell every single day. You see the stolen glances and the way they look at each other, the way she is never totally on your side. You tell yourself that this is all in your head, that Lily would never betray you that way. That all the hours you spent dreaming of Hogwarts together will mean more than a crush. But oh, sadly you are very wrong there too.

Not even a few months after attempting to take your life your abusers are back at again. Remorseless as ever they hunt you down like dogs and follow your every footstep. You haven’t a moment of peace even to do your normal school work. The only place you are safe is your common room, and even then you can’t let your guard down.

Then one day it happens.

The little pieces of happiness that you’ve managed to tuck away from yourself are cruelly ripped away. They manage to find you again. The torment us as usual. They all gang up on you, each taking a go for their own amusement. They fling you on your back, force you to vomit, force you to listen to their emotional abuse while they make a go at hitting on your best friend, and the torment does not end there. Now they are picking you up off the ground and taking off your clothes. Now on top of every other humiliation they have amused themselves by sexually humiliating you in front of everyone in your class including your closest ally. Every part of you is on fire inside and out and the depth of horror and hurt inside you is so big you don’t know what to do with the feeling. Then your friend finally steps in. But now you’re so hurt and angry that it’s bursting out of you in the worst possible ways.

Now the worst thing finally happens.

You call your best friend a slur; something you know will hurt them more than any other thing, because you’re destroyed, because you’re angry at them for letting it get this far, because you’re humiliated and because you’re tired of not being held in a higher regard than the person who has ruined your life; because you’re sick of their moralizing and their pitty.

Now you’ve lost the only person you’ve ever really felt close to. Now you’ve lost any human sympathy forever.

And it’s not over yet. Now you’re upside down again. And this time they aren’t content with exposing the rest of your body for the world to see. Now they are out for blood, and the revenge they have settled on is Sexual Assault. They remove your underwear to expose your most private parts to the world and there is nothing you can do about it. Nowhere you can go. No one who cares. No one who will come to your rescue.

Snape must have felt so hopeless it’s a wonder he didn’t try to end his life. People have done so over much less.

Hogwarts was never truly a home for Severus Snape. Even in adulthood he works in the place that was the site of innumerable traumas and heartaches. Everyday he faces trigger after trigger of the worst day of his life, while protecting the progeny of the only person he ever felt close to and the person who cruelly ripped away any chance he had at normal life. This is why I feel for Severus Snape so much in every scene. He is confronted every day with the worst memories a person can endure yet he chooses to be brave anyway. He chooses to do the right thing anyway. He puts other people’s well-being first anyway. He chooses the side of the light beyond all that had conspired to make a sociopath out of him. He holds a place in his heart for love and he protects that love with his entire being. Platonic love is just as powerful as romantic love and Severus Snape is the perfect example of this. A person even in the worst circumstances can still make the most difference in the world, can still choose to be their own person and make their own choices. Even when the world is wholly against him, Severus Snape is the pinnacle of integrity.

This is why he’s my favorite character. He’s the bravest character in the narrative, but he’s also the character with the most integrity.

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