Astv Pavitr - Blog Posts

Rotten || Part 2

Summary: Second chances only come to those who deserve it. You aren't sure if your husband should be considered as a deserving person. Characters/Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader Word Count: ~900 Warnings: angst, A/N: This was asked to be turned into a part 2 by @bat1212 a while ago and I completely forgot :(( sorry for keeping you waiting!!

Ever since you had walked out, a bitter taste had left its permanent place in Miguel's mouth. He had done nothing but watch the love of his life walk out of their house as if they were nothing to him. He had already lost his old life, and then there was the one he stole from his alternate self. An alternate version of him who was happy, who lived with you and your daughter... up until the incident. When he met you in this world, he swore he wouldn't let anything hurt you. Yet here he was being the soul reason that your chest ached and heart broke.

Your phone was hot, ready to blow up with the number of calls and texts that your husband had been spamming you with. Most ranged from 'call me', to extensive apologies and begging for forgiveness. It would never be worth it.

How could you forgive him after he threw away everything he promised to you?

As your phone rang for the tenth time that night, you finally decided to answer. it wasn't an easy decision, already knowing that the sway in your silent treatment would break your faux confident demeanour. "What is it?" The sigh that slipped past your plump lips was pathetic, a giveaway to how upset you truly were. You could sense Miguel's hesitation before he even spoke.

"I am sorry," he began, "I wasn't fair to you.."

That pathetic excuse of an apology wasn't enough for you. You shook your head, standing in the street as the cool air dug its cold claws into your skin. You shivered and had to fight off another sigh. "Miguel, sorry doesn't cut it anymore. I have had enough of your treating me as if we aren't a team, as if we aren't literally married!" Your voice began to raise, the rush of emotions forcing you to pause before you say anything else that you would regret. Typically, Miguel would have scolded for you for raising your voice at him in his own brash way. Tonight, he chose not to. He was too hard on you, too distant and it was eating away at your once beautiful marriage.

"You're right.." He sighed softly, leaning his back against the headboard of your bed, "Sorry doesn't cut it anymore." He admitted quietly. His eyes shut and his hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd neglected his partner for too long. "Come home, my love.. Let me apologise in person. Even if that isn't enough, you deserve to hear it." His words sounded sincere, but they still made your stomach churn. Were you seriously about to go back on your own words and crawl straight back home into his arms? It had only been a few hours since you left and yet you already missed the warmth of your shared bed.

"I can't, Miguel." Your words were stern, even as your bottom lip quivered. If you were to come home, fall into his strong arms and listen to his words you knew exactly what would happen. You would listen to his apology, the sweet little words of your lover professing his undying need to have you in his life as if it was the last thing he'd ever do. You would break, falling back into the cycle of leaving and crawling straight back at the drop of a hat.

Perhaps that's why you found yourself in the cab, still talking to Miguel. You heard his sigh of relief as you muttered your address to the driver, smiling shyly as you sat in the back seat.

"So, you are coming back?" His voice was borderline teasing, poking at your buttons until you'd huff and tell him to be quiet.

"I won't if this is how you're going to be," your grumbled. For a moment you paused, closing your eyes as the car began to move. "Will you run me a bath? I'm cold..." You admitted, only to hear the gentle rumble of his laughter. Although you were both still on edge, neither of you could deter yourself from the need that panged your chest.

It wasn't long before you were home, clothes thrown to the floor as you sunk deep into the bath that Miguel had drawn for you while he impatiently waited for you to come home. His fingers rubbed against the top of your calm, caressing your knuckles as he leaned his head against the edge of the bath. While you basked in the warmth of the water, he settled in your presence outside of the bath.

"Let me make things right.." he whispered, kissing your palm. As you looked down at him, you couldn't help but nod.

"Okay.." you sighed, finally forgiving your husband.

it's your decision! Both will be updated evantually<33

intro !!

blue || 13/03 || PCOS & POTS || masterlist

My blog is intended for those who are 6teen and above. Some topics that I write about can and will be triggering at times, so viewer discretion is always advised!! I will have warnings on all posts that I believe need them!

I'm open to most ideas and am always accepting requests!! (pls im desperate to write). All of my fics are x reader and gender neutral unless stated otherwise!! I also write on wattpad under @blue-sky336 however I post more on here!!

pls be aware that I am a full-time uni student studying a very content heavy degree so I will only be posting when I am able to!!

love y'all x

Mountain

Summary: You're sick of being Peter's therapist Characters/Pairing: Peter x Fem!Reader Word Count: 420 Warnings: light angst, use of the word mum once A/N: why are all my old fics so short :((

"I cannot keep doing this for you." Your words started soft. The conversation was inevitable. The lost sleep, stolen from the spider itself, the trauma and consequences that followed were catching up to the both of you. Peter knew it was coming sooner or later.

"I can not keep taking care of you every night. You can't expect this from me." You placed your bag down on the kitchen counter, the contents beginning to fall out.

"I never expected it from you-" He tried to say. Your hands gripped the counter, knuckles white in pure anger.

"But you did! Every single night you came through my fire escape, bleeding out and sobbing, delirious! And single every night I would fix you up. Even when I was sick, or in pain or hurt, I always patched you up. It isn't fair that you expect this from me." Your words came out rushed, heart hammering against your chest. Rough hands touched your shoulders, trying to calm you down but you pushed them away. Your words were finally caught in your throat, a sob bubbling in your chest like an unruly potion in a cauldron.

"I am not your fucking therapist!" You yelled, "I am not your own personal nurse, or your mum!"

Peter stood dumbfounded at your words. There was no going back from this argument, and he knew it. Besides, you were right. He had expected you to help him. He believed that since you were his forever loving and caring partner that you were willing to risk your own mental health over his physical health. Yet, you couldn't. There was no universe where this would end well.

Attempting to reach out once again, Peter exhaled shakily and gently touched your shoulder. "Please..." He spoke, squeezing your joint through the fleece jacket, "I can fix this. I promise, I can fix all of this. Just give me another chance." The brunettes' words were beginning to sound panicked, yet you couldn't care anymore. He was the cause of your emotional turmoil for the past year. You were no longer willing to be the one to bear the consequences of his actions, especially when you were on the brink of your own emotional demise outside of your relationship with the man.

"No," you shook your head, "I'm done."

The corners of your lips turned up in a hateful and tight-lipped smile. Seeing his distraught expression made you feel powerful, your decision to leave now set in stone. Peter felt you slip through his fingers, watching with nothing but helplessness now as you walked towards the front door. Reaching for your keys, you turned back once more.

"Goodbye, Peter."

Unresolved Feelings

Summary: Hobie has been nothing but nice to you, sadly, you can't return the favour Characters/Pairings: Hobie x GN!Reader, minor Gwen x GN!Reader Word Count: 800 Warnings: mention of canon events, death, panic attack, emotional distress, angst

"I can't even look at him Gwen." Your words came out trembling, eyes watering. "I can't look at him or talk to him. I-.. I can't go on another mission with him. I almost got us killed!" Your rambling was never-ending. The look in your eyes sent chills down the young woman's spine. It was something she recognised herself, however not on your face. Dark bags covered your cheeks, pupils small and hair a mess. Your clothes were the same that you wore yesterday, meaning you probably slept in them.

"It's okay. We can talk to Miguel.. He'll understand." She said your name so softly, hands coming to rest upon your shaking shoulders. A hiccup slipped past your swollen lips and you almost started crying again. "I'm sure we can fix this." Gwen offered a sympathetic smile, thumbs wiping away any stray tears that dared to fall down your soft cheeks. "Come on, let's get you in some clean clothes and brush your hair. Then we can go talk to him, okay?" Her words were so sincere and comforting that you couldn't help but be embarrassed about your sudden emotional outbursts.

You nodded.

While getting ready, with Gwen pulling some clothes out for you to put on and helping you brush back your hair, you were completely lost in your thoughts. Hobie came to mind and the memories followed.

Hobie was your canon event. In your universe you worked as a variation of spider-man. Hobie was your best friend, your ride or die, the person you promised to look after no matter what; and you failed him. In a moment of quick thinking where you could have prevented his death, you faltered and instead, he ended up 6ft underground. The memories left a cool shudder running down your spine. Goosebumps formed across your arms and the hair at the back of your neck stood at attention.

"He won't understand, Gwen. This is useless." You spoke quietly, rubbing your face as if that was going to get rid of your eye bags. "This isn't going- you know what Miguel is like! If anything this will make it worse." You huffed through your nostrils.

Gwen just shook her head an rolled her eyes. "You're a pessimist." She sighed softly, squeezing your hand ever so gently. "I promise it will be fine."

Of course, by the time you had made it to Miguel's 'office' you were feeling a little bit better. Gwen had reassured you that Miguel might listen, and you wouldn't have to see Hobie again. Part of that pained you. In fact, part of you longed to crawl right back into his arms as if nothing had ever happened. The thought of simply inserting yourself back into his life flashed through your mind, following by the look on his face as he fell. You couldn't put him through that again..

The conversation went... okay. As okay as it could go. You were now free from any interactions with Hobie Brown. You felt so conflicted. Gwen understood your pain. Seeing such a close friend die and then to be confronted with that same person, but not your own version is traumatizing. The amount of unresolved trauma that comes back is overwhelming; no wonder you were getting no sleep.

On the way back to the lobby you were confronted with this unresolved feeling. The same punk rocker that you had been actively avoiding was marching his way towards you, a slight frown on his hollowed face. Your heart was racing, your head almost spinning. He stood in front of you and yet you couldn't move. Your feet were frozen, eyes staring into the deep brown of his own. You felt like crying again, but nothing came out.

"You've been avoiding me."

His words didn't come out as harsh or controlling, but rather concerned.

"Get out of my way."

"That doesn't change the fact that you've been avoiding me." Hobie said your name in the same way that your version did. Your shoulders shook slightly, head hung lowly.

"It doesn't fucking matter- okay? You didn't do anything! So get out of my way, Hobie!" Your words were harsh. Your tone was conflicting against your thoughts. No matter how much you wanted to run into those familiar lanky arms or playfully flick his chin, you couldn't, because this man wasn't your Hobie. The Hobie in front of you was a stranger. One that you only had superficial feelings too, and one that you could never be nice to.

The pained look he gave you made your heart ache within your chest. He didn't say anything and just stood to the side, taking a step out of your way. Your mouth moved but no words came out. Instead, you forced your feet to move before you did anything that could have been even more stupid than your outburst. You left him standing there with your head now held high in an attempt to seem strong.

Hobie could see through your act. You couldn't fool him.

Flirtatious! Hobie Brown who can't help but lean in close to your ear and whisper the sweetest of compliments just to witness the blush on your face.

Flirtatious! Hobie who knows just how much you love it when he calls you by pet names and will use it to his advantage. "You got a sec, sweet pea?"

Flirtatious! Hobie who enjoys the way you throw back the best comebacks to his pickup lines

Flirtatious! Hobie who shamelessly flirts with you as Spider-Punk to the point where news articles are written about spider-punks mystery s/o.

Flirtatious! Hobie who loves the feeling of your breath against his ear when you whisper back how stupid that pick up line was.

But most of all, Flirtatious! Hobie who can't help but smile every time he sees your blush because he knows he's the one who caused it <3

Dating Pavitr Prabhakar

Summary: Dating Pavitr is the best thing that has ever happened to you. Characters/Pairing: Pavitr x GN!reader Word Count: 264 Warnings: none, just fluff!! A/N: this is insanely short and probs cringe

He's constantly making you chai. Like you'll be sitting on his bed, legs crossed and reading a book and all of a sudden, you're sipping on the most perfect chai, and you don't even remember how you got it?

You met during a buddy program. You were going to India for a term of school and ended up with Pavitr as your buddy

He was so sweet and kind that you eventually gave him your number (claiming it was to keep in touch if you ever got lost) and not long after he asked you on the first date

He was so sweet and kind, simply basking in your company. Your first date was a little study date.

He lets you play with his hair

Like, it's so perfect and he knows you just need to do something with your hands sometimes, so he's just laying with his head in your lap and enjoying the gentle touch of your fingers through his hair!

He doesn't know how to initiate a kiss, which is kind of funny cause he's definitely Hobie's wingman

The moment Hobie gets an s/o you're all going on double dates to different dimensions (if you're spider-people)

He lets you call him the sweetest pet names and in return you get to watch him swoon

Like, you call him 'sweetheart' once and he's a puddle on the floor

He definitely enjoys peppering your face in kisses all the time!

At the start of your relationship, he was too scared to even hug you, let alone kiss you. And now he's the one peppering you with love

He's a little shy to begin with too. As much as people think of him as having a perfect life, he doesn't have much game until he gets completely comfortable holding your hand

Eventually he is the one constantly making you swoon and fall over your feet, but he's also always there to catch you.

Accidents Happen

Summary: Hobbie's medusa piercing gets stuck on your septum ring after a more heated make out session Characters/Pairings: Hobie x GN!Reader Word Count: 447 Warnings: minor mention of claustrophobia, panicked reader, reader has a septum piercing A/N: no one can tell me Hobie wouldn't look hot af with a medusa

"Oh my god.. Hobie. Hobie it's stuck." You words came out rushed and almost slurred, lips swollen and bruised from the harsh kisses your boyfriend had given you just seconds before. The once passionate moment was beginning to fizzle into nothing more than a dying ember at the bottom of a fire pit. You knew you should have flipped up the jewelry embedded in your septum and now, here you were with Hobie Brown literally stuck to your face.

"When people joked about you being stuck to me, didn't think you'd take it seriously, luv." His words came out teasingly, hands still gripping your hips. With a gentle squeeze of his hands he leaned in the slightest bit to close the small gap between your lips. "No. Hobie- it's.. it's actually stuck." As much as you loved the intimate way in which he was so close, you were also beginning to feel claustrophobic.

Your face heated up, cheeks going red and breathing becoming the slightest bit more rapid than your previous panting. Hobie's thumb caressed your cheek. "Lovely, it's okay. Take a deep breath for me, yeah? I'll get you out of here." His words were comforting.

You took one deep breath in, held it for four seconds and slowly exhaled. He glanced at your eyes and then to your nose, seeing just how tangled you really were. The slightest movement would tug on the silver jewelry between his tip lip and nose.

"m just gonna bring my hand up to your face, 'kay?"

He knew it wasn't going to help your panicking, but now that you were slowing your breathing he was more confident in his decision. Long fingers came between your noses. He brushed against yours, smiling a little when he noticed that sweet look in your eyes. In a few swift movements he had unscrewed the ball of his medusa, catching it in his free hand. He pulled back slightly and was quick to put the ball back on, not wanting it to get lost.

"That's better, innit luv?" He grinned mischievously.

"Much better. Thank you, Hobie." You sighed softly, feeling a lot freer than a few seconds ago. His hands began to move back to your hips. You flipped your septum ring up into your nose and giggled quietly at the gentle strokes of his thumb against your waist. "Let's get back to what we started, hm?" Hobie suggested, leaning back into your lips.

Touch starved! Hobie loves to have his hands on you. His hand might be on your hip, in your back pocket, fiddling with your ring finger, etc.

Touch Starved! Hobie who doesn't care who sees him kissing your neck, marking and biting just to get any taste of you.

Touch Starved! Hobie who leans in every time you pull away. Your touch lingers against his cheek, leaving soft sparks against the tinted skin.

Touch Starved! Hobie who lets you do his eyeliner because he loves the feeling of being close to you. Having you in his lap with his eyes closed and the most dazed look on his face. He's in heaven.

Touch Starved! Hobie who sprays his pillow with your perfume because he finds your scent so attractive.

Touch Starved! Hobie who's always got his arms wrapped around your waist from behind when standing around HQ. No one has ever seen you two apart, you're practically attached at the hip now.

Touch Starved! Hobie who is desperate for any touch you're willing to give him no matter if it hurts...

What the ASTV Boys Love about you!

Warnings: does fluff count??? Lots of fluff lol, slight mention of panic in Miguel's section, reader is mentioned to know Spanish

Tried keeping it as gender neutral as possible!

Miles Morales

- The way you call him, mi vida. You already knew some (or were fluent) in Spanish. However, you didn't necessarily speak it often. There weren't much times where you needed to other than around family. So, when you first called him 'mi vida' he basically malfunctioned. His cheeks went pink and his jaw dropped, but he snapped back quickly after you called his name. It was so simple but he truly new you were the one.

Pavitr Prabhakar

- Where to start.. This man loves everything about you, from the way you look to the way your mind works. Personally, I think his favourite thing about you would be how you look when you're concentrating. Whether you poke your tongue out or bite your bottom lip, he's so entranced, watching you with the look of a lovesick puppy. He enjoys seeing you so passionate about something.

Hobie Brown

- He loves the way you hold his face when you're fixing a bloody nose or a cut above his eyebrow. Heck, he loves the feeling of your slightly calloused yet still soft hands against his sharp cheeks. The way you're so apologetic when he winces as you're cleaning a cut, but you scold him after just so he knows you're serious. It has his stomach doing happy little flips knowing you care so much about him with just this simple touch.

Miguel O'Hara

- He loves the minimal physical touches you offer. The gentle brush of fingers or a simple caress of his shoulder. It's comforting, but not overwhelming. He isn't huge on PDA, so you not being overly touchy is something he loves so dearly. It's something where touch says more than words. He knows that you understand when he's stressed or upset when you give his hand a squeeze, a gentle reminder to help him ground himself.

Peter B Parker

- He loves your hair. Whether it's short, long, or a mohawk. He loves how soft it looks, the gentle touch to it. His favourite thing is to touch it while cuddling. You could be wrapped up in his arms and he'd somehow be twirling your hair between his forefinger and thumb. It's more of a habit. You know how some baby's play with their hair to go to sleep?? That is exactly what Peter does, but with your hair.