The urge to be an anonymous entity versus the need for me to tell you all I looked really good at a wedding yesterday
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The urge to be an anonymous entity versus the need for me to tell you all I looked really good at a wedding yesterday

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for all the days of my life
oneshot, rated E
Itās the tenth of October amidst a beautiful autumn in Boston, and Michelleās getting married today.
Sheās getting married today. Her sixteen-year-old self would be furious.
Though the identity of her soon-to-be-husband might lift the teenage MJās spirits.
Itās the tenth of October amidst a beautiful autumn in Boston, and Michelleās getting married today.
Sheās getting married today. Her sixteen-year-old self would be furious.
Though the identity of her soon-to-be-husband might lift the teenage MJās spirits.
Sheās been in love with Peter Parker for ten years and been dating him for five, and though they were among the first of their friends to get engaged, the proposal had been a long time coming. She remembers being eighteen and lying on a blanket in the middle of Central Park, running her fingers through Peterās hair as he told her how much he loved her. āI hope this isnāt too intense or anything, but Em, someday Iām gonna ask you to marry me.ā
Her heart had soared. Love was so dumb and embarrassing and heart-wrenching and wonderful. āYeah?ā
Heād smiled brilliantly. āYeah.ā
āThen Iāll say yes.ā
āYeah?ā Impossibly, his eyes had lit up even more than they already were. Like they always were whilst settled on MJ.
āYeah.ā
Heād promised her that afternoon, years ago, that heād marry her. She used to despise the idea of marriage, and couldnāt understand why people ever participated in it so voluntarily. She gets it now, though. She understood as soon as she fell in love with him. Though it was the twenty-first century and marriage wasnāt a prerequisite to long-term commitment, there was something about the official, ceremonial process of weddings that made having one feel essential. Only when it involved Peter, though. He was it for her.
Currently, she makes her way to the kitchen to make her morning tea. Their apartment felt empty without her fiancĆ©, since heād slept over at Nedās to honour age-old tradition. It both kills and excites her to know that the next time sheād be seeing him, heād be at the other end of the aisle, and sheād be moments away from becoming his wife. The word makes her shiver.
Peter had proposed to her in March. Theyād both had the same Saturday free, which was rare for a journalist and an engineer, and sheād (rightfully) suspected that heād bribed J. Jonah Jameson into giving her the day off. First theyād stopped at Delmarās, picking up their favourite sandwiches. Heād slyly mentioned the fact that theyād eaten there on their first real date, and it was then that sheād predicted the dayās end. Theyād brought the sandwiches to Central Park, laid out a blanket, and had a picnic. Just like they did at eighteen. Her suspicions grew stronger still as heād continuously gushed about the last five years being the best of his life ā besides the three months sheād been out of it because of Strangeās spell a few years ago. They'd been the worst months of his life, heād explained, because though thereād been many different factors for that, not being with her was perhaps the most unbearable.
Then, with cloudy eyes, heād pulled a sparkling, lone object from his pocket. Michelleās ring is so truly her itād baffled her upon seeing it for the first time: the moss agate pear-shaped diamond sat on a simple gold band; tiny pearls on either side of it, perfectly unique. Heād told her later that heād wanted to propose with Mayās wedding ring, but because it was buried with her, heād added the pearls as a tribute to his deceased aunt, since her ring had had a plethora of them. Heād added that he hoped she didnāt mind, even though they both knew that MJ missed May and had loved her albeit only having a few months with her. Of course she didnāt mind. Sheād taken his face between her hands and had assured him that if heād been able to give her Mayās ring, she wouldāve been overjoyed and so, so honoured, but since the heirloom was unavailable, the ring in front of her was the most perfect thing sheād ever seen. His reaction, former anxiety turned relief and complete adoration, had made MJ cry. Her fiancĆ© is sweet and thoughtful and sentimental and good .
God, she loves him. She gets to marry him today. She canāt wait.
Tiptoeing over to the corner of the kitchen, MJ pours cat food into the empty bowl on the floor as she tuts quietly. āMayday, are you hungry?ā
Her and Peterās sweet, quiet cat meows in response, grazing her black fur across MJās calf before heading towards her breakfast. āMommy and Daddy are getting married today,ā she tells the munching cat, and though the statement falls on deaf ears, it feels so wholly huge and exciting and MJ needs to say it out loud every so often as if to not overwhelm herself with the information. She doesnāt think Mayday minds assisting her with this.
As she stands back up, she hears a persistent knock on the door, and goes to open it. Felicia, Cindy and Betty barge into the small flat without waiting for MJās permission, contagious excitement, beauty supplies, and wedding plans in hand. A flurry of āMJ!!!ās and āHow are you feeling?!ās surround her and she reassures them with a confident grin.
Only two hours later (an eternity to a slightly nervous Michelle), her maids-of-honour have completed her hair and makeup. āTa-da!ā Cindy announces, grabbing MJās hand and pulling her in front of the floor mirror in the bedroom. And oh, wow.
She looks absolutely beautiful.
Her hair is left in its natural curls in a half-up, half-down sort of do, and the top section of hair is braided on each side, meeting at the back of her head in a loose ponytail. A few curls are left in the front, too, framing her face perfectly. MJād pleaded with Cindy to leave it as lowkey and Michelle-esque as possible, and though Cindy had groaned and begged to add some dramatics and flair, sheād succeeded. Her makeup matched the easygoing air of her curls, and Felicia too had wanted to do something bolder. Alas, they both knew their friend; MJ wasnāt one for anything drastic. A bit of mascara, concealer, highlighter (she fought Felicia on that one, but gets it now), and lipgloss are present on her face and itās exactly what sheād imagined. She looks fucking awesome.
Her friends stand behind her, the two blondes both teary-eyed and the brunette grinning widely. āWait until you put on the dress!ā Cindy squeals.
Michelle hadnāt really cared about going dress-shopping, but knew that her friends would enjoy the experience and decided to humour them. The four of them ā Betty, Felicia, Cindy and Ned (of course) were astonished at MJās nonchalance, but she had to admit, their enthusiasm made the bridal pressure ease up a bit. She definitely hadnāt been very excited at first, and the first eight dresses were pretty disappointing. Several were much too feminine, a few too detailed, and one of them frighteningly donned sequins on the bust. Sheād gone back into the large fitting room with a huff; feeling impatient and even a little let down. She could tell that Lisa, the attendant, was getting fed up with her pickiness, even if she hid it well and was nothing but kind. MJ felt bad, and debated choosing the next dress solely to give the poor woman a break.
Lisa had entered the fitting room with a new dress after ten minutes of searching the store. She had a hopeful smile on her face as she helped Michelle into the gown, zipped her up, and after stepping back to look for herself, the attendant gasped and immediately spun Michelle towards the mirror. āWhat do you think?ā
MJād timidly glanced at her reflection, and quickly did a double-take. Jesus Christ. Sheād found it.
The dress, like her ring, was Michelle Jones to a T. Lowkey, but not boring, and just old-fashioned enough without being out of touch. The form-fitting bodice was a soft satin, and hugged her waist and hips comfortably. The ivory of the gown was so off-white it was almost beige, and the fabric fell to her feet lightly, boasting a thigh-high slit on the left leg. It wasnāt low cut, and the straps secured the form over her shoulders and met across her back ā the only part of her torso that was left uncovered. It was perfect.
Sheād gaped at herself in the mirror, and had a similar expression on her face now as she smoothed out the bodice, having put it on with the exciting knowledge that sheād be married when she took it off later.
Or, you know, when Peter took it off later.
Itās not like that infamous tradition wasnāt one they were going to follow. Sheād had sex with Peter countless times in the last five years, so sheās not sure tonight will actually count as āconsummationā, but hey. Itāll be the first time she gets to fuck her husband.
Her husband. What a mind-blowing phrase. MJ briefly wonders how on earth anyoneās ever been casual about using it.
The next hour flies by much too quickly for her liking. Sheās shoved into Feliciaās car, driven to the venue (a quiet grassy area in the outskirts of Boston, now beautified by the autumn leaves on the trees), and helped out of the car by a fussing Betty. āPeterās already walked the aisle, so youāre up whenever youāre ready, okay?ā Michelle nods. āI love you,ā Betty adds, throwing her arms around her. They wouldāve arrived earlier, but, true to character, Felicia had made them leave later than theyād planned. It didnāt matter. She was here and just in time and about to get married and she just couldnāt fucking wait to see Peter.
Theyād decided to skip on the whole bridesmaids/groomsmen/flower-girls shebang. MJ had never liked the whole father-giving-daughter-away thing either, for obvious reasons, something that Peter had always agreed wholeheartedly on, so Mr. Watson sat joyfully teary-eyed in the front row. MJās eyes found him straightaway as she peeked past the makeshift curtain that separated the venue from the rest of the park.
Deep breaths, she told herself. Itās just a goddamn wedding.
Todayās the day her and Peter will one day tell their child about. Totally not a big deal.
(Michelle always imagines said child as a little boy with her wild curls and Peterās dopey grin. It makes her heart stutter every time she pictures him.)
Focus, MJ.
Later, sheāll assume her mind went on autopilot at this point. Sheās walking down the makeshift aisle, faced with almost everyone sheās ever cared about. A few are blatantly absent. Michelle and Peter have lost so many. She aches for her mother to be here. For her sister to be here. Harry. Gwen. Peterās parents, who she never met but respect and adore regardless because they made the love of her life, and Ben, another of Peterās loved ones who she wishes she could meet and thank and know and love.
May.
She likes to think, as her well-worn Converse lead her down the aisle, that May is in the empty chair theyād sentimentally saved for her. There are two unclaimed seats in the audience: one for May, and one for Michelleās late mother. Rather than their absence breaking her heart, it soothes her to know that both of the amazing women would be so incredibly proud of her and Peter. So happy for them. So excited for them. And MJ is at peace with it all.
She reaches Peter, grasping his hand. She matches his adoring grin, though his is paired with glassy eyes and hers is not. That bit was predictable, Michelle thinks with amusement.
And then theyāre going through a simplified version of a wedding ā Peterād been fine with cutting out the unnecessary bits, but insisted on keeping the vows in the ceremony. This had made MJ groan and grumble because sheād always thought vows were particularly humiliating and stupid.
Sheād never tell Peter this, but as she stands across from him and repeats her carefully transcribed sentences, she doesnāt feel an ounce of embarrassment. Thereās nothing there but love and truth behind every word. And Peter is two seconds away from weeping, which is something sheās admittedly proud of. Sheād aced it.
His are just as sickeningly sweet as Michelle guessed they would be, but they make her eyes water and sheās blinking rapidly as she listens to Peter talks about wanting to kiss her in Paris when they were seventeen. He is hers and she is his and sheās content. She feels so whole.
MJ barely registers Ned pronouncing them as husband and wife before Peterās spinning her to his other side, dipping her, and kissing her dramatically. Everyone disappears and itās just them on a bridge in London, Peter donning quite a different suit and the beloved black dahlia necklace in her hand instead of around her neck like it is now. As he tips her upright again, he breaks the kiss and mutters, āWeāll be continuing that later, my incredible, beautiful wife.ā
Fuck, she has the biggest crush on him. Heās charming and sexy and hers and she canāt wait to get him alone.
Later.
Turns out, later doesn't come soon enough (and neither does she). Peterās made it worse for her. Heās been teasing her ever since the kiss at the ceremony. She counts the series of events silently so she knows exactly how much payback she's owed.
One. As soon as theyāve been ushered into their cutely decorated ājust marriedā Toyota, heās gripping her inner thigh over her wedding dress as she drives them straight to Chipotle.
Two. When they arrive at their small reception, held in Feliciaās large backyard, heās hissing his impatience under his breath: āCanāt wait any longer to take this gorgeous dress off. Itās sexy, and itās in my way.ā
Michelle tries her best to hide the way his neediness makes her feel as she subtly bites her lip and smiles. āLater, weirdo.ā As if he wasnāt making her hot-and-bothered.
Three. He teases her again as he pulls her in close, of course, to dance to āI Believeā by Stevie Wonder. Itās their song, and normally sheād be thinking about that instead of how Peterās sneaking kisses to her neck, a bite to her earlobe, a sly squeeze to her ass as he pulls her against him even tighter and her heartās beating really fast because that was close. Not for any other. reason. She was just nervous that their guests almost saw him being a complete dick.
She considers threatening divorce but theyāve only been married for three hours and the ink on their marriage documents isnāt even dry. MJ cares less about that as the reception goes on, though, because the way that Peterās licking cake off his spoon is conjuring memories of his tongue moving the same way a couple nights ago. Her breath is shallow and heās an asshole and god, itās been too long and she needs her husband and itās only been a few days. She's so getting him back for all of that later. Much later.
But alas.
Finally, finally theyāve made it back to their one-bedroom apartment. She parks the car and heās telling her to wait where she is. āWhy?ā She wonders aloud, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, until Peter runs over to the driverās side of the car, opens the door, and scoops her up out of her seat. āPete!ā She squeals, both giggling as he runs up the three flights of stairs with her in his arms. They pass a couple neighbours on the way up, and are a little too horny to remember that thereās no way he should be that physically capable. The weird looks from the strangers, though, arenāt paid any attention, because Peterās shifting her into one arm as the other unlocks their apartment with ease.
Peter opens the door ceremoniously with a proud āWelcome home, wife," and sheās doing that terribly girlish giggle again. Sheās far too focused on his muscles to care, though. Michelle just really wants him. The sky is blue, grass is green. Peter is hot.
āYou asshole.ā She tries to look angry and sort of succeeds. He looks confused, raising an eyebrow in question. āPeter. You fucking teased me the entire day and you think Iām gonna give it to you that easy?ā
She watches him pretend to think for a moment. He grins, then replies with a simple āyes.ā
If she wasnāt this goddamn hornyā¦
Heās absolutely right. MJ tells him so while she tugs at his slightly-wrinkled button-up. āā¦but Iām making you pay for today next time, Pete. Swear to god.ā
He doesnāt answer her. Heās busy sliding her wedding dress down her body and groaning when he finds his wife nearly naked underneath it, save for the tiny white lace of her thong and, of course, her Converse. Her husband (god that word) drags his tongue from her breastbone to her navel. The dress hasnāt even left its bunched-up state around her ankles. Peter wants her, he wants her, he wants her.
Michelle frantically pull Peter up from his crouch and messily crashes her lips with his. She wants him, she wants him, she wants him.
Five minutes later, though it seems like five hours, the newlyweds have made it to their lumpy bed once a bastard but now the first place she gets to fuck her husband. Heās just in his briefs, and the only thing sheās kept on is the lace because she knows from experience that he always fucks her harder when her panties have been carelessly shoved to the side. And she needs it hard. Fuck, she needs it. Peter finds home between her legs, pinning her to the mattress with his body weight, and jerks his hips forward on instinct and need. The animalistic movement earns a high-pitched whine out of Michelle, and he watches her shut her eyes lustfully as he wraps a hand around her neck. Squeezing it ever-so-slightly, he thrusts his greedy bulge against her core once, twice, a third time, gaining momentum with each snap of his hips. āLook at me.ā He orders her, gripping her jaw. Her eyes fly open and sheās never seen him look more needy than he does now. Itās overwhelming sometimes, knowing sheās that wanted. That needed. That loved.
Peter snakes his other hand down to the lace and shoves it to the side. MJās eyes widen in surprise when she feels the thin cotton prison of his briefs rub directly onto her swollen clit. Sheās never been this wet, she swears it. He feels it too when he drags his imprisoned erection from her gushing entrance back to the sensitive nub. This is new. He works harder, maintaining his grip on her neck as he drops his head on the mattress next to it. As he ruts even harder against her, she picks up on his mutter, so low she couldāve missed it. āYou gonna cum for me like this?ā
She nods. No, wait. Words are important when heās in charge. āUh huh.ā The faint whimper is all she can manage.
āāM not even inside you, Em. Havenāt got my cock or my fingers or my tongue in your cunt, and youāre still gonna fall apart, yeah? Fall apart with my cock rubbing you off.ā Itās a hiss, and she moans brokenly at that. He sits up on his knees to shove his boxers down and off, then returns to his wife in mere seconds. Without the fabric barrier, and after he stops to position himself, his dick slides perfectly up her pussy, parting her lips, and his leaking tip tortures her quivering bundle of nerves. They both cry out at the sensation ā itās intense, to say the least ā and Peter begins moving his hips again and again and again and again and fuck fuck fuck sheās there and heās gripping her hair and jerking her head back to watch her cum .
āWhat a fucking sight.ā She hears him growl as she comes down from the high. Her chest is heaving, legs shaking and breath stuttering and he has her so fucked up. Mind body and soul. Everything that is Michelle Jones is driven mad by her want and love and need for him.
Before she can process anything besides his face, heās gripping her hips and flipping them with a strength only a superhero could muster. Sheās confused. Thereās no way he expects her to ride him, not after that intense orgasm, right? But before she can ask, heās mumbling, āLet me do the work, baby. I got you.ā
She nods eagerly, heart melting. The coupling between Peter and Michelle is sometimes intense, sometimes lazy, sometimes mindless and hard, but whenever they need to just feel each other, sheās on top. It connects them and it's simple and Michelle loves feeling loved by him. There arenāt many other situations in which she feels it more so than this. And while itās always passionate and fuelled by adoration, it's also her and Peter. Sex rarely remains slow and romantic even if it starts that way. She just calls it range.
Yes. She and Peter are sexually versatile. That's all.
Because they're so versatile, when Peter lowers her onto his aching cock and gives her a moment (her superhuman husband isnāt exactly small or even average), she knows that in a minute, heāll be too impatient to take his time. Fuck. She loves it when he doesnāt take his time like this. In fact, if he waits any longer to fuck the absolute shit out of her, sheās gonna take the fucking reigns. Fuck him.
Ohā¦oh, fuck him.
Because Peter gives up on 'slow' after the fourth slow-paced thrust, shoots her one of those looks ā sheād been fucking him for long enough to know his non-verbal cues ā and after a nod of her head, heās rearing back and pounding into her without any hesitation. When he doesnāt hold back, she finds Peter breathtaking. Sometimes literally. His stamina could prove efficient well into a twelfth round of fucking and more often than not she'll sound like an Olympic sprinter after they're done. Michelle both wishes she could keep up with him and is glad she canāt.
His determination stuns her as sheās witness to it now. Her elbows are shaking too much to hold her upright anymore, and sheās collapsing onto his chest as he fucks wildly into her. MJās pretty sure thatās her voice sheās hearing; the one whimpering Peter Peter Peter over and over again pathetically. She would be embarrassed if she was coherent enough, but perhaps she wouldnāt because itās Peter and they love each other and he knows what sheās like when heās fucked her up. Plus heās told her he likes her like this. He likes knowing only he can make her feel this way. He told her about that when they were twenty-one and heād admitted that he might be Spider-Man but he never feels more powerful than he does when heās got her like this. Thoroughly fucked and sobbing for him and falling apart on his cock again and again. The confession, given right after sex, had made her throb and his dick was down her throat before heād even finished talking.
And quite honestly, if she keeps thinking about shit like that, sheās gonna fucking cum again. So she does her best to focus on present Peter.
...Except focusing on the Peter below her and inside of her does nothing to ward off another orgasm. No, no, it summons it, because one look at his sweaty, perfect, blissed out face and sheās hurled off the edge yet again into pleasureās abyss. In it she finds his eyes.
Always his eyes.
Peter slows down for a moment or two, but Michelle doesnāt get to fully recover. Not that she wants to. She hasnāt even caught her breath before heās flipped her beneath him, positioning her on her side, and pounding into her again. She cries out and her entire body is shaking from the overstimulation. Harder and harder still he wrecks her and she unabashedly stares at his six pack flexing at the strain of it all. He gives her everything and that is how roughly he fucks her and she craves it whenever heās not inside her. Her husband is magnificent.
That word again.
Peter seems equally enthralled by the equivalent, because she picks up on a, āgood girl. Good fucking girl. Youāre so fucking good for me. Take it so well, donāt you? My perfect wife. So fucking sexy. Look at you, fuck!ā He accentuates the word with a swift slap to her ass, making her jerk and wail loudly. āSexy and powerful yet so eager to please. Such a good girl for me. Take my fucking cock, Em. Wanna fuck you so good youāll feel me inside you for weeks.ā He stops muttering to take a few breaths, staring at her face as he speaks again in a softer tone: āGod, I love you."
The declaration is all Michelle needs to cum for the fourth time tonight, ears ringing as she falls with a weak whimper of his name. Itās all she can manage but she knows he understands. She loses consciousness for a few seconds. The intensity is more than she can really bear.
But heās here and heās gently removing her (ruined) underwear and sheās not sure when he filled the tub up because after a few minutes heās lifting her from the bed and lowering her, after a short trip, into a warm bath. MJās coherent enough now to smile and stroke Peterās face. āI love you too.ā
āWe got married today.ā He whispers, awed.
āWe totally did.ā
They laugh together, then, at the dramatics of it all; how everything feels different now but so incredibly the same that it makes Michelleās heart squeeze. It's her and Peter against the world and as corny as it sounds, she truly believes that nothing in the world is stronger than their love for each other. To be seen, to be known, to be loved. Maybe finding That Person always meant that quotes from classical literature she once thought were god-awful before him now make complete sense after him. She understands Elizabeth Bennet and Jane Eyre and Catherine Earnshaw, because Peter is Mr. Darcy and Edward Rochester and Heathcliff. Though she hopes for a happier ending than Wuthering Heights.
No, scratch that ā she doesnāt hope for it, she knows theyāll have an abundance of happy times, because itās them. If MJ has Peter and if Peter has MJ, they can do anything, and as she holds him tight, she canāt feel anything but excitement for the rest of their lives.
I LOVE WEDDINGS I LOVE WEDDINGS SO MUCH I WILL CRY IF THERES A WEDDING SCENE IN A MOVIE OR A TV SHOW. WEDDINGS ARE VERY BEAUTIFUL I HOPE I CAN MARRY A VERY LOVELY GIRL ONE DAY AND HAVE A VERY BEAUTIFUL WEDDING OF MY OWN
captain-ray-assbutt replied to your post: captain-ray-assbutt replied to your post: maybe...
aaa CANDLES
and of course because things are such a mess it's hard to be as fancy as they might like but they do their best to make it a real big nice traditional ceremony because it's so /////important//////Ā
like obviously it's not like the FIRST WEDDING!!! since the Event
but it's two of the hope's peak kids and things are actually somewhat improving, what with repairing cell towers and network connections, and hopecast, and things actually being organized and stuff, so it's a pretty big deal
and they have the space to do a nice ceremony - most of the bases are pretty cramped and crowded but headquarters is plenty big enough for real ceremonies
and they broadcast it all across the whole network and it's very exciting
welp
I just discovered weddinggawker. Goodbye, productivity.Ā
And I'm not being crazy. My sister's getting married in October and I'm her maid of honor, so obviously I'm just fulfilling my duties, and researching for her wedding ... obviously.Ā

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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