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anika-ann · 10 months

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Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all?

But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!

Alone, you only wander in the dark Chased by the cold I shall light up the torch you’re guarding

Should I be worried about you That all you do is take When are you coming back to me?

The cavalry moved rather slowly.

The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.

With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.

“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”

Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.

“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”

The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.

“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”

“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.

“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”

The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”

Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.

“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”

“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.

“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.

Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.

As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.

No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.

“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.

Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.

“Buck…”

“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.

“Sure he was, kiddo.”

“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.

“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.

A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.

However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.

For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.

Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.

“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.

And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.

Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.

Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.

“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.

Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.

“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.

“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”

Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.

“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.

“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”

“…oh.”

“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”

“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”

“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.

“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”

“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.

“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”

Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“

“I can do it. I can even carry her.”

Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.

Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.

Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-

“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.

Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.

“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.

Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.

Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.

“Thank you, good Sir.”

“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”

Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-

Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.

“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.

“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”

“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.

Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.

“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.

“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.

“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”

Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.

“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.

He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.

As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.

The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.

“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”

Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”

She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.

“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”

Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”

Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?

And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.

Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.

In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.

“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”

Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.

“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”

With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.

Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.

Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.

Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.

He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.

It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.

He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.

“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.

And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.

But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.

“Come, rytier moj.”

And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.

Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.

This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.

As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.

He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.

From the mountains Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay your armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

Wind from the mountains

Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay my armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.

Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.

“Tea, my love?”

Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.

Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.

“No tea then?”

A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.

“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.

“That could be arranged, I believe.”

Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…

The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.

You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.

You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.

“Dance for me, my love?”

Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.

“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”

His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.

“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”

The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.

Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.

Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.

Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.

Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.

“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”

Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.

There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.

You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.

The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.

“Steven-“

“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”

The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.

“Steven-“

“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”

And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.

You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.

A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.

Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.

“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.

“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”

A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.

Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.

“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.

You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.

As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.

“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.

Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.

Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.

An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.

The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.

Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?

Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.

Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.

Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.

“Would you, bosorka moja?”

Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.

“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”

An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.

Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.

The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.

Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?

Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.

It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.

He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.

No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.

Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.

The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him; your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.

He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.

His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.

“Come with me.”

A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.

But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.

“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.

As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.

Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.

“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.

“It’s different.”

Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.

“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.

“I do”, you agreed softly.

He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?

Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.

“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.

“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”

His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.

You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.

Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.

“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“

Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.

“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”

Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.

With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.

“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.

“Always.”

You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.

“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”

His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.

“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.

Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.

“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”

You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.

He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”

There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.

Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”

With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.

Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.

Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.

Očaruj mě (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one

Complete masterlist

Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.

Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language: bosorka moja = witch mine rytier môj = knight mine ľubim ťa = I love you

Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #medieval au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #lemons #pomiluj me #anika ann

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arthropodwithapen · 4 months

Note

Here's a prompt : tony being , as usual , a helicopter parent and peter getting irritated over it and they have a huge fight , peter tells tony "you are not my dad" and then they stop taling and you know , angst ensues. Cue a mission where tony protects peter while getting hurt in the process and peter calls tony dad and tony calls peter son and then some iron dad spiderson feels that we all love.

Thanx in advance !

Thank you for the prompt!

I give you: a stressed Peter is buried under mountains of school work. Tony is trying his best to help. If at first you don't succeed.. lock yourself in your lab and deal with it later.

Word count - 3925 words

***

Peter didn’t look up from the table when Tony walked in. His head was buried in a book and the other hand was scribbling notes onto a sheet of loose paper.

Tony slid a finger along the table, coming to stand next to him.

“Hello.”

Peter didn’t look up. His pen never stopped scratching on the paper. “Hi.”

Tony took a few small steps until he was stood right behind him, watching him write.

He gave a small chuckle. “Can you even read that? No offence but your handwriting is an atrocity.”

“I don’t have time to be neat,” he mumbled, still scribbling away. “This essay is due in two days and I haven’t even finished reading the book.”

“What is it you’re reading?” Tony made to pick up the book but Peter snatched it out of his reach before he could.

“Hey.”

Tony put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

Peter finally looked up at him. His jaw was set. He looked unimpressed, definitely irritated and Tony had the feeling he was treading on thin ice. He could tell he hadn’t slept well the night before. Maybe a bad day at school too. Something was wrong.

“I’m really busy,” Peter said. “This is, like, essay number seven this week. Do you need something?”

Tony took a risk and settled sideways into the chair next to him, still facing him.

“No, no. Nothing. Just wanted to check on my boy, that’s all.”

“Well, he is fine.”

He didn’t look it but Tony played along anyway. “Good. And.. if I’m honest, I’m a little bored. You mind if I hang here for a bit?”

Peter waved a hand, turning back to his work. “It’s your table.”

Tony searched his brain for something that could be wrong. Sleep, that was number one. But it was a busy time at school so that made sense, he knew the poor kid had a mountain of homework. That would also explain his coldness; being tired made Peter a little grumpy, they all knew that by now.

“Right. I’ll just.. sit here.” Tony shifted his chair closer to the table and slid his phone out of his pocket. Maybe he could respond to some emails or messages or something. “And I’ll be quiet,” he added. “I promise.”

Peter merely hummed in acknowledgment.

He was quiet.. for a while. Everything was quiet besides the scratching of Peter’s pen on the paper and the occasional rustle of the page in his book being turned. Tony was restless but he tried not to show it. He stopped himself from fidgeting and sat as still as he could beside him. He couldn’t focus on anything, all of the emails were boring and all of his unanswered messages equally as uninteresting. All he really wanted to do was talk to Peter and find out what was wrong and how concerned he should be. He knew he had a tendency to overdo it when it came to his concern but that was neither here nor there.

Tony huffed and put his phone face down on the table. He had had enough of looking through his emails. He leant forward on his elbows and tilted his head, watching Peter. His tongue was poking out from the side of his mouth and his eyebrows were pinched in concentration.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Peter asked without looking up.

“‘Cos your concentration face is adorable.”

“I am not adorable.”

Tony laughed. “You so are.”

Peter made an exasperated noise. “I thought you said you were being quiet.”

“I’m bored.”

“And I’m busy.”

“You don’t want to come to the lab for a bit? Take a break?”

“No. And I really need to concentrate. I’m serious.”

“Okay..” He clicked his tongue. “Serious.. Got it. Serious. I can do serious. I’m great at serious. I’m a professiona -“

“Mr Stark.”

Ouch. They’d finally got him to stop calling him that. Had he really pissed him off that much?

“Sorry. I did promise, didn’t I?”

Peter lifted an eyebrow, looking terribly unimpressed. “You did.”

“Commencing the ‘quiet protocol’ now.” Tony drew his hand across his mouth, miming closing it like a zip. Peter didn’t laugh and turned back to his work.

The room was silent again, Tony just as fidgety as before. Maybe he should just leave, take himself to the lab and be alone. But thing was, he didn’t want to be alone. He felt like a little puppy, desperate for attention and all he was getting here was the grumpiest of receptions possible. But most of all, Tony just wanted to know that Peter was okay but he had a feeling that any conversations concerning feelings wouldn’t go over well. At least he could try handle the simpler parts of taking care of him.

Tony stood without another word and made his way into the kitchen. Food and water - the most basic of human needs. Essential to keeping a stressed teenager happy and healthy. Right?

He thought he did a pretty good job of it actually. A few minutes later, he was walking back to the table with a glass of water with ice and a plate which was arranged quite impressively with an assortment of fruits, vegetables and Peter’s favourite sweet snacks.

He set them both down in front of him and with his now-free hand he brushed a hand over the curls on the back of Peter’s head which was bent low over his work. He’d made good progress on his book, Tony noticed. His pen stilled for a second and he looked up to eye the plate of food before looking up at Tony who slid back into the chair beside him.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly.

In the interest of being quiet, Tony didn’t respond, only gave him the fondest of smiles he reserved only for him.

He went back to his emails. Peter went back to his work. He didn’t touch the food. He scribbled and scribbled and scribbled until the page was full and then he turned it over and scribbled some more until that was full too. He neared the end of the book and then on the final page, he slammed it shut and thrust it away from himself like he couldn't stand to look at the thing anymore.

Tony watched silently as Peter put his elbows on the table and thread his hands into his hair, squeezing just tight enough that Tony almost said something but he held his tongue. He was supposed to be being quiet.

He almost jumped when Peter suddenly shot up from his chair, hastily grabbed all of his things and stomped down the hall and into his room. Tony heard the door slam from where he was sat, stunned.

He sat for a few minutes wondering if it was something he’d done that had tipped him over the edge. Absentmindedly, he grabbed a carrot stick from the untouched plate of food and nibbled on it while he thought over the puzzling matter. Teenagers.

He decided to leave him alone for the next few hours. He was sure he’d come to him if he needed anything or if he thought Tony might be able to help him. Maybe Tony wasn’t the best at writing essays about books but he’d give it his best go if it meant he could take some of his stress away even if he was only there to offer suggestions.

Later that evening, Peter still hadn’t made a reappearance and Tony stopped ignoring the parts of himself that were telling him to worry about his Spider-Kid.

“Pete?” He knocked gently on his door.

“Mmhm,” he heard from inside. Tony cracked the door open.

He was now typing on his laptop frantically, his notes spread out across the desk in front of him. Never did Tony think if he was ever the one to be raising a kid he’d have to tell them to stop doing homework.

“Kiddo, why don’t you take a break? You’ve been at this for hours.”

“Because I need to get this out of the way so I can get on with everything else. I still haven’t started my maths or biology or history or -“

“I get it, you’ve got a lot on. But you still need to look after you. You aren’t going to be doing your best work if you’re this stressed out.”

Peter’s head snapped up and Tony worried that he’d said the wrong thing.

“Just come and have something to eat. Take five. It’ll do a world of good, trust me.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Peter.” He was always hungry. Growing teenager mixed with a super spider metabolism? He was lying through his teeth.

“I’m not. I’m fine. I’ll come get something when I’m done.”

“How much have you written?”

He glanced back at the laptop. “Three hundred words.”

“How many do you need?”

Peter mumbled a number Tony didn’t catch but the reddening of his cheeks told Tony it was quite a lot more than three hundred.

“Well, I’m sure you can smash them out after you’ve had something to eat.”

“I told you already, I’m not hungry.”

Okay, attitude. Tony raised his hands in a show of peace. “Okay, okay. I’m just trying to help here. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Well, quit it! I don’t have time for this.”

Tony raised a disapproving eyebrow. “I don’t think there’s any need for that tone.”

Peter shot him an incredulous look which then turned swiftly into a scowl. “I don’t think there’s any need for this conversation.”

Tony tried another tactic. He softened his gaze and his tone. “Come on, Pete. You know you can talk to me if there is something bothering yo-”

“Oh, my god! Would you just leave me alone? You’re bothering me!” Peter’s fist were clenched tight, Tony saw them balled on the desk. “You're not my dad!”

Tony was an expert at hiding his emotions. So when his heart took a blow like that, he was perfectly adept at containing the agony so it didn’t show on his face. He just took it.

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “Okay, kiddo,” he said softly. “I’ll leave you alone. You can come find me if you need anything.” He left quickly, shutting the door behind him.

It hurt. A lot. Peter wasn’t his biologically but that hadn’t ever mattered to him. Tony loved him like he was his flesh and blood and he’d always thought the feeling was mutual. Maybe he had been wrong all along.

Tony did what he did best when something unpleasant happened - he hid in his lab and tried to forget for a while by tinkering until the callouses on his hands were either bright red or leaking blood. He stayed down there for hours and didn’t sleep for a minute that night. He was too upset to do anything else. The thought of having to face going back upstairs was so uncomfortable that he willed himself to believe for a few hours that he could spend the rest of his life down there.

Peter didn’t want to talk, that was blatantly obvious and Tony wasn’t too fond of the idea of having to leave the comfort of his lab and so he remained there until the sun rose and then remained for a few hours after that.

Peter had already left for school by the time Tony found the courage to venture back upstairs. FRIDAY informed him that he hadn’t been the only one that had spent the entire night awake.

He sat with his coffee for a while, wondering what the next possible step he should take was. Did he acknowledge what had happened or just let it go? Could he let it go? Should he wait for Peter bring it up? Would he? Man, there was a lot to think about. Teenagers.

He sat ruminating and trying to come up with a plan of action until he received a notification on his phone. It was an emergency alert. Iron Man was needed.

Call him selfish but he was almost grateful for whatever force was causing issues in New York that day as it gave him something to do and provided the perfect distraction.

Unfortunately for him, only a little while after they’d begun fighting, a little red and blue flash in the corner of his eye said he wouldn’t be forgetting about the kid anytime soon.

“I thought you were supposed to be in school, kid.” Tony couldn’t help it, it just slipped out.

He was met with no response.

“Spider-Man! You’re on civilian evacuation,” Cap said over the comms.

“Roger that, Captain,” Peter mumbled dejectedly.

Tony flew past Clint who paused for a moment, having also picked up on the teens melancholy and he shot Tony a look before pulling out an arrow and firing it at one of the goons on the ground. Tony touched down next to him, the faceplate retracting, and muted the comms.

“We fought,” he told the archer without preamble. He was a dad, he could give him advice. “Any tips?”

Clint laughed, reaching up to mute his comm too. “Tips on dealing with moody teenagers? Nah, you’re on your own, I haven’t got a clue. But please, if you manage to figure it out, let me know.”

Tony grumbled under his breath and shot off again, dodging a blast from one of the high tech weapons they were trying to neutralise. Tony found the target, aimed and stunned him before he could try it again.

He flew down beside him, ready to grab the weapon and take it back to the jet. Another flash of red caught his eye and he looked up to see Peter swinging with a woman in his arms, carrying her to safety.

Tony took care of the weapon and then flew back to the centre of the chaos. He couldn’t help watching Peter whenever he was within range, it was engrained In him to make sure he was safe at all times. It also meant that he wasn’t able to commit much attention to his surroundings and so he was a little sloppier than usual. He wasn't the only one who noticed but thankfully Clint stuck up for him when Cap questioned it.

“Karen says all the civilians are clear of the immediate area.”

“Great job,” Steve replied. “You can wait for us at the jet if you want.”

“I can help.”

“We’re almost done here anyway. Seriously, take five. You’ve done your part and you’ve done a good job.” Tony was thankful Steve took the lead of benching him before Tony had to. He had the feeling that would have caused quite the scene given the current state of affairs.

Peter appeared on the edge of a rooftop, crouching with his hands between his legs in one of his signature poses. Tony cracked a smile at the sight. No matter what had happened he would never stop loving his kid and his spidery ways.

Guns fired and Tony had to tear his eyes away, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He couldn’t for long because Peter jumped and swung down, throwing himself directly into the battlefield.

Tony grumbled internally but chose to hold his tongue. He was being oddly quiet but anything else he was sure would just end in arguments and no one wanted that.

Tony watched him snatch a gun from the hands of one of the enemy with a web and webbed it up out of he way. The man himself was next and before he could move, he was struggling against the restraints that had him firmly secured to the lamp post behind him.

Two goons saw Spider-Man take down their friend and yelled - with more fury than Tony thought Peter deserved to have directed at him - and aimed up at the web-slinger. Clearly these guys had some hard feelings after the ferry incident.

Tony saw it happening and felt himself moving before he’d actively chosen to do so. There were two blasts of light, one that Peter dodged easily and the other that wasn’t so simple and would have hit him square in the chest if Tony hadn’t thrown himself in front of him.

He didn’t feel the impact. He didn’t feel anything. Just saw the light fading. He never felt himself hit the concrete. The only thing he remembered was hearing a scream that hadn’t come from him.

***

“.. Up! Wake up! Please! Oh, god, please! Wake up!”

Inside his metal tomb, which was as unresponsive as he was, Tony felt the jostling movements as someone above him tried to frantically shake him awake.

“God! Tony, please! Say something!”

They were becoming louder and more desperate. Tony wanted to reassure them, like a primal urge to keep them safe and happy was stirring inside of him, but he couldn’t move his mouth. His eyes were still closed - he had to get them to open first of all.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. No. Wake up. Please!”

I’m trying, he wanted to say. I’m okay. I’m awake. He couldn’t speak.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! God, I’m so so sorry! Please, Tony, please,” Peter begged.

It was all he needed to try and wake himself up, hearing the hysteria creeping into Peter’s words. Tony blinked his eyes open. The inside of his suit was dark apart from the small blinking light at the edge of his vision which was his back up power. He’d be able to get out of the suit, thank goodness for that. If he could just figure out how to move..

“Karen? K-Karen, is he.. is he dead? Please, just tell me if he’s dead, just say it. Just say it now. Just tell me.”

Oh, god.

The faceplate flicked open and Tony found himself looking up at a very distressed Peter. His mask was off and they were in a secluded alley not where he remembered being last time he was conscious. Peter must have dragged the suit out of the chaos. The poor kid was white as a sheet and his eyes were frantic. They found his.

“Not dead,” Tony managed to say in a rasping wheeze.

“Tony!”

Peter flung himself down over the top of him, hugging the suit and holding on as if his life depended on it. The impact jostled him and he became aware of a burning sensation in his chest. He held in his gasp for Peter’s sake.

“Oh, my god, Tony! I thought you were dead! You fell! You - you..”

“Shh, hey, shh. Give.. give me a second to figure out if I am actually alive. I’d hate to.. to give you false hope.” Talking hurt.

Peter leaned back, sitting on his heels but keeping one hand on the chest plate of Tony’s suit. His other hand went to his comm. “Karen?” A pause. Peter’s wide eyes looked him over. “She says.. she says you might be concussed. And.. and - god - your ribs. Broken.”

“Mmhm. Feel that,” Tony groaned.

“You’re.. you’re bleeding too.”

“Huh. Where?”

“You’re head.”

“Well, she did say concussion. Doesn’t miss a trick, does she?”

Peter’s lip was wobbling. Tony had the absurd urge to laugh. There was nothing funny about this but everything was suddenly hysterical. He worked with all of his strength to keep it in.

“Why are you smiling?” Peter sniffed.

“Because you are adorable.”

“Stop it. I am not.” He sniffed again.

“You never believe me when I say that but I promise you, I’m right.”

Peter shook his head, keeping his lips pressed firmly together which only proved Tony’s point further.

“Come on, kiddo, help me out of this thing so I can give you a hug.”

They had to work together to get him out of the suit. The more Tony moved, the more he realised how much everything hurt. He winced with every inch they sat him upright. Peter kept him steady with a hand on his back, his super strength bearing most of Tony’s weight.

When he was upright, Peter didn’t go in a for a hug. Tony felt a trickle of blood down the side of his face. For a split second, he wondered if Peter was still just as upset as he had been the previous night - if he was still bothering him. But one look at his face told Tony that wasn’t true.

“You jumped in front of me,” he whispered. There were tears in his eyes.

“My suit’s better.”

“You’re hurt.”

“You could have died.”

Peter squeezed his eyes closed. “You can’t.. you can’t do that. I thought..” His inhaled sharply. “I thought you were dead and I thought the last thing I said to you was.. was..” Peter gave an awful sob.

“Oh, kiddo. Come here.”

He wrapped his arms around Peter who dissolved immediately into a blubbering mess.

“I didn’t mean it, I swear! It wasn’t true! I didn’t mean it!”

Tony suddenly felt like an idiot for ever believing those words. How had he ever been stupid enough to think for a second that Peter could have possibly meant them? If he loved Tony only half as much as he loved Peter, then that would still be an enormous amount. He didn’t know how these things - matters of the heart - worked, not really, but he knew one thing and that was that his kid was his, blood or not.

“I know, kiddo. I know.”

“I’m so so sorry!”

His hand was in his hair, Peter’s face pressed against his shoulder and spreading snot and tears and all things gross all over him. Tony didn’t mind one bit - he himself was leaking blood all over the place too.

“You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

It didn’t calm him down. In fact, Peter made a miserable sound somewhere between a sob and a moan and shook harder.

“I’m sorry! Please, dad. I’m so so sorry!”

Tony froze. He’d never said that before. Never. Not once. Tony never thought he would given how long it took for him to be comfortable even saying ‘Tony’. He’d practically had to beg him.

Ribs twinging, heart bursting, Tony turned his head so he could plant a kiss on the top of Peter’s head.

“There is no need for apologies. I know you didn’t mean it.” Tony sighed contentedly. “My son. My boy. I love you.”

Peter nodded frantically, still sniffling. “I love you too.”

“I know you’ve been stressed out lately. How about when we get home and I get myself patched up we have a talk about whatever’s really bothering you? Come up with a solution. Sound good?”

“Yeah..”

“Good.” He squeezed him, repressing his wince as he did so. “Good.”

Footsteps came crashing along the street towards them as Steve came running into the alley. “Tony! I got here as soon as I could, we just got everything cleaned up. Are you okay!?”

He looked at his son and smiled. “Perfect, Cap. Everything’s perfect.” Peter smiled back. Everything was truly wonderful.

Peter looked up Steve. “He’s lying,” he said, “his ribs are far from perfect.”

Tony groaned. “Thanks for the reminder, kid. I had just about forgotten.”

“We’ll get you patched up in the jet,” Steve said, relaxing when he saw his friend was relatively okay.

“Get me some ice for my ribs, Capsicle, would you? I know how much you love ice.”

Peter’s laugh was his favourite sound in the whole world.

The end.

#fanfic #irondad and spiderson #spider-man #irondad #marvel #iron man #marvel mcu #peter parker #light angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #all their problems would be solved if they weren't so emotionally constipated #marvel fic #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #spiderson

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rattyshipss · 9 months

Text

~Better than Spiderman~ Flash Thompson x gn!reader

Gn!reader

"Look Fla-" "Zip it Penis Parker!"

Flash waved off Peter who was currently in the process of trying to get Flash to admit his feelings for you. Peter rolled his eyes and walked away, Ned following behind after giving one last knowing look to Flash.

"You know he's actually right" Brad said before instantly regretting it with the look Flash gave him. "What do you mean he- he's right what?!" "Bro you're seriously gonna agree with Penis Parker, THEE Penis Parker, dude's out of it I'm surprised he hasn't been kicked out of the decathlon yet" Flash scoffed.

The bell rang and Flash's friends went on their way to class leaving Flash standing there with his thoughts and Mj coming up behind him patting his back like a coach consoling their player. "Poor Flash, pathetic Flash-" "What do you want?!" Mj smirked at Flash before stepping infront of him.

"Pushing people away isn't going to change your little *cough cough* huge crush"

"Don't flatter yourself" Flash said blankly. "Not me idiot, (y/n)" "I don't know what you're talking about, and since when did you care anyway?!"

"I don't, what I do care about though is having to sit there and listen to (y/n) talk about you for hours" Mj started walking to class leaving Flash's mind running like the Flash.

Now you were the one getting interrogated in gym class. "(Y/n) it's obvious you like him" "Yeah I like HIM, that doesn't mean HE likes ME" Peter rolled his eyes. "Peter there's no way Flash likes me, I'm no Spiderman" Peter nearly stared at you for a second trying not to feel sick. "First off, eww, second off there's no way Flash DOESN'T like you, ok y-you're awesome!, Look I don't like Flash, I mean who would, n-no offence, but I like you, everybody likes you!" "(Y/n) Flash would be crazy not to take you up on the chance to be with you and trust me when I say this, to Flash you're better than Spiderman!"

Peter ended up mimicking your shocked face "Oh yeah yeah I said it!" You laughed with Peter for a moment before hearing one of the loudest thuds of your life and turning around to see Flash laying upside down off of the bleachers.

"Jesus Flash are you ok?!" Flash looked up- up? down? up at you trying to quickly bring his facade again, flustered from a mix of embarrassment and having the person he has the biggest crush on standing right infront of him. "Y-yeah totally why wouldn't I be? Just passing gym over here no biggie"

Rolling your eyes you leaned down to check on his dumb ass, as much of an asshole as he is you want him to be your asshole. Flash's eyes practically staring into your soul, it's a wonder how you don't know how in love with you he is. "Ahem!" Flash looked over seeing Mj, Peter, and Ned eying him down, as much as he disdained having to do this infront of Peter of all people he knew he had to or he'd take forever to, you're the only person who could make him this nervous and he hated and loved it at the same time.

"Heyyy how about we hang out after school today, just the two of us, it'll be fun I promise, you think I could ever be boring on a date?"

"A date?" Flash looked at you terrified he shouldn't have brought up the offer. "I mean i-if you want it to be" staring down at Flash laying there upside down smiling hopefully you watched his face get red whether that's from nervousness or the blood rushing to his head thats for you to decide, he waited for your reply, which felt like hours but was in reality seconds.

You leaned down and gave Flash a short kiss unintentionally mimicking the iconic Spiderman kiss (I KNOW IT'S THE WRONG SPIDERMAN BUT I HAD TO) before stepping back and watching Flash almost slide the rest of the way down the bleachers.

"It's a date"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lxsm2 I really hope this doesn't suck I'm so sorry if it does!😭💖

#flash thompson #eugene thompson #flash thompson x reader #eugene thompson x reader #flash thompson imagine #eugene thompson imagine #flash thompson imagines #eugene thompson imagines #writing #request #requests

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mediawhorefics · 2 years

Note

thoughts on doctor who!! echoes of previous companions always gets me good, like billie piper as The Moment

oh i have SO much to say about doctor who rip here's an incoherent rant/list of opinions !!

i'm an rtd-era supremacist so i'm DYING with excitement over his return!!! also this 14 news ??? HELLO?????????? SO SO SO EXCITED!!!!

my first doctor was 10 and he has remained my fav through and through. tho ofc i love them all in different ways. (fun fact my beta is the one who introduced me to dw back in the day)

my top three companions are donna (MY GIRL !!!!)/rose/the ponds

yes, i am in love with karen gillan and would like a spare hand in marriage ma'am

my greatest dw heartbreak is the fact that peter capaldi is one of my favourite actors and was probably the greatest ambassador for the show and i absolutely LOATHE the writing for his era.

steven moffat IS my nemesis and i hate what he did with the show. this man should have never been a showrunner. he's good with limits and boundaries and standalone.

full offence, i hate clara with a burning passion, no shade to the actress she's very talented, but everything about that character rubs me the wrong way. from the ~born to save the doctor bullshit to the has no life outside the doctor until moffat randomly decided to half-ass giving her a career to the badly written attempts at her having feelings for 11... truly, i despite this storyline so fucking much. again ship what you like but i don't get doctor/clara AT ALL. it makes me angry just thinking about it now. and she was there for SO long UGH.

my favourite series are s4 & s5 (yes i hate moffat i love s5, its complicated). also s2 because ROMANCE!!!!!

i hate moffat writing women for obvs reasons but i do love river song. highkey as much as i love matt & alex together NOTHING beats 12/river because peter capaldi said i'm playing a whole time lord in LOVE in that one episode they had together and my fucking HEART y'all. i know i have an unhealthy crush on peter capaldi but his face when he looks at her <333 it's almost as good as ten & rose's in love and utterly devoted to each other faces.

doctor/river still don't hold a candle to 10/rose obvs that shit was it. she was IT. rip to 16 yo me watching doomsday for the first time that shit fundamentally changed me as a person. where's that deancas/tenrose comparison post ?? cut me open and that's what you'll see.

i miss rtd era side characters SO much they were SO lived in and memorable and REAL and they made the show. we lost soooo much of doctor who's heart when he left.

its cringe but i ADORE torchwood despite all of its flaws. ianto jones was one of the very first bi-adjacent characters i ever connected with and he is SO dear to me. rip to my boy it's disgusting what rtd & co did to him :((( baby's first bury your gays, i was 17 and i still haven't recovered. thank god for big finish and all the quality torchwood content they produce.

speaking of big finish... if you're a who fan who hasn't tried to expended universe, i cannot recommend the 8th doctor audios enough. he is FANTASTIC and actually one of my favourite doctors. paul mcgann is INCREDIBLE in the role and it's criminal we only have the movie and that tiny one-shot for the 50th anniversary.

@ RTD JUSTICE FOR EIGHT IN THE 60TH SPECIAL

10/donna are the best tardis team end of. that tennant/tate chemistry??? CHEF'S KISS. @ rtd fix her. @ rtd bring her back. i am no longer asking !!!!

christopher eccleston is CRIMINALLY underrated. 9 deserves SO much love. i adore him. thanks @ big finish for bringing him back to me.

matt smith was the best at playing ancient. i still don't know how he did that thing with his eyes where he looked 1000 yo but wow.

cybermen are incredibly boring and i really dislike most of their eps. i'll take 50 dalek stories over cybermen ones idc.

we never should have seen the weeping angels after blink. they've lost more and more of their appeal the more their mythology has been expended on.

i still don't understand the whole silence cult vs silence species thing and at this point, i'm too afraid to ask.

some of us witnessing the andrew garfield renaissance remember frank and his 1930s fruitiness from 2007 is all i'm gonna say.

#about me #doctor who

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lokisivy · 2 years

Text

MADE FOR EACH OTHER (CHAPTER 2)

Cassie Thomas

The sting on my back keeps rubbing through my sweater; it burns so much. I have to cover them up, though I tried to put bandages on the scars as much as I could reach. As I approach the school gate, I'm met with a pair of brown eyes. Peter, what a sight for sore eyes.

"Hi, Pete." I greet him. he holding pieces of our project "please don't tell me you broke it." This project is due tomorrow if fucks this up, I'll kill him. "I didn't... umm.. Gravity did it." he said, finding the dumbest but logical excuse ever. "Really, peter?" I sigh."Yeah, it's Sir Isaac newtons fault." he says slowly, breaking a smile as I burst into laughter.

"Come back to my place today after school, and we can rebuild it." he says, put his hand on my shoulder, making me wince in pain. "What's wrong?" he takes his hands off and stops walking. "Nothing just sore shoulder from working out." I lie "since when do you work out?" he gives me a sus look.

"Just shut up and walk." I roll my eyes playfully. "You come back to my place. My dad won't let me stay at yours." I tell him,"fine, we can go after physics."

We go our separate ways to our class schedule.

...

After I and Peter are Finnish with the physics class, we head back to my house to fix the project. he messed up; it's going to take really long.

"Hey, wanna see something cool?" I ask him. "Yeah, sure." He replies, and I take off my necklace, leading him to the wear house near my house.

"Now don't freak out I always had these powers, I just use them for fun and I've never hurt anyone Purposely using them" I said Pulling my hands out of my pocket That slowly start Moving them towards the leaves on the ground as they start floating.

I stop after I see Peter's shocked face. "Please say something."

"I'm shocked, Cass." His so stun. "This is amazing; it's beautiful."

" So you're not scared of me? You don't think I will hurt you? You don't think that I'm a ticking bomb?" I say, surprised.

" Why would you think that The good Things could do with your powers You could save lives And even if it brings bad in you I'm sure you don't mean to do it." He smiles slowly, stepping closer to me.

" I was so scared to do this. I told Beth 2 months ago, and ever since then, she stopped talking to me." Beth was my neighbour and best friend. she knew everything about my dad and told her about my dad, which meant I also had to tell her about my powers. She was scared of me, so I stopped hanging out with her to avoid ruining our friendship." I explained

" You stop talking to Beth because you thought She was scared of you. She's a person who never thought this was real. She was shocked, not scared, Cassie. She probably thinks you hater!" He raises his voice, thinking I'm a crazy person.

"What was I supposed to do? I can't risk anyone knowing, and I didn't want our friendship to end on bad terms, so I just avoided her." I say, shrugging my shoulder. " You're such a dumbass." Peter said.

"fuck off." I slap his shoulder.

"You know what, I will show something too." Pulling something out, I'm not sure what it is.

"Hold on tight," he grabs my hips, all know suddenly flying with a clear rope attached to his hands.

"What the hell! How did you-" I got cut off swinging to a different place. "peter, you're ..." I trail off "spider man, yeah, I'm." he said, smirking. he slowly dropped us down.

"That explains your fast reflexes. The abs you grew, you don't even work out." I rant my thoughts out. "Hey." he said in offence. "Okay, put me down before I shazam your ass with my witchy powers." he tells me okay and puts me down.

We continue walking back home and make short conversations. "Why did you tell me about your powers?" I ask."I always wanted to tell you, so when you told me about yours, it made me feel that I want to do the same to make you feel safe and myself too." he answered honestly. "I'm so scared, Pete. I feel like these powers are a huge burden; I can't control it if I'm not wearing this stupid neckless." he looks at me, surprised at my confession. "I didn't think you would think this negative about this." I stop walking as he, too."it's just so hard to think I might hurt someone again with this the moment I'm overwhelmed; I just burst into a fucking boom that can't be stopped." I put my neckless back on, scared of my coming-up mental breakdown.

"Hey it's okay I have some friends that might find a way to help you," he said grabbing a hold of my cheeks feeling his warm hands upon my cheeks a tear slips from my eyes "okay I will take you tomorrow afternoon." he says, wiping my tear. "Now, let's go so we can rebuild the project I ruined." he says, smiling slightly. I pulled away from his grip. "So you admit that u ruined it, not gravity or sir Isaac newton." I laugh and playfully push him, and air quotes his words.

"it's either it or an old woman getting hit by a car." he rolls his eyes at me. "Come on, there is still so much to walk." I shove him in front of me so he can walk. "You're rich. Why don't you use your car?" he asks."I like to get my cardio in." I shrug,"so walking 8 miles a day will get your cardio in." he says, making fun of my excuse."So weird."

"Oh, shut up.

...

Eight hours. Eight fucking hours.

" peter, I'm so fucking tired. Do your powers come with speed so we can finish this?" I whine at him, huffing. "No, but that would be cool, though."

"ughhh. I'm going to write the research paper explaining the prototype you finish this." I get up and go to my desk, opening my laptop.

I hear knocking on the door. it must be mary informing me she was going to leave. she is our nanny. she cleans and cooks for us; she also knows about Dad.

"Come in!" I yell. When the door opens, I meet with my dad's figure. "Hey, Dad, how was your day?" I ask politely,"it was good, sweetheart. What's about yours?" he responds and gives me a fake smile. "Stressful, we are working on a project it's due tomorrow." I respond, playing along with his act.

"Hi , Mr. Thomas.peter speaks up, "Hello peter, how are you, and how is your aunt?" he asks

"We're good." he smiles back. "it's 12 am when you guys are done go to bed peter you sleep in the guest room son," he says, closing the door and leaving.

I'll be back. " I run to my door, leaving my room. "Dad."

"What do you want!" he whisper yells, knowing peter might hear something. "Are you okay?" I ask

"No, I'm not. I miss my wife, and I had a shitty and I obviously can have what I want because your friend is in there, and you obviously can't be quiet." he says, frustrated

"I'm sorry, but this project is half of our grade." I apologise

"Well, that's not gonna fix anything. I will just go to a club; at least these sluts will be better." he says, walking away angrily.

Thank god I wasn't ready for this again. I walk back quietly, sitting on my desk to continue my work.

...

Hi bubs, I hope ur doing okay. I know only 2 people are reading this , but I will still write.

ik that cassie's dad is an ass but he won't be there for long hope you enjoyed my beautiful 2 readers.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki smut #loki x you #stranger things imagine #eddie x you #loki (marvel)#loki odinson #loki #loki x reader

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justabigassnerd · 2 years

Text

Before the multiverse

Pairing - TASM!Peter Parker x sister!reader

Word count - 9,454

Warnings - death, blood, injuries, passing out, not taking care of one's self, grief, angst, swearing

Summary - a couple of years before the events of your multiversal crossing, you fought a humanoid lizard which resulted in a catastrophic loss

Prequel to - 'Second chance'

A/N - okay this was never really a planned fic or anything the idea popped into my head and I'm evil so I wrote it. This took me way too long to write because my writer's block chose to show up. Again, I am very sorry if this fic causes tears or any upset at all. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I have to admit, Doctor Connors certainly picked the right time to turn himself into a giant lizard.” You joke as you grab some milk out of the fridge and pour it into your bowl of cereal.

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, holding his hand out for you to pass him the milk.

“Well just imagine how screwed New York would be if I didn’t have my powers.” You say, handing him the milk and placing your bowl down at the table.

“I’m more concerned about how screwed we are because you’re the one with powers.” Peter fires back, laughing as your jaw drops in mock offence.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” You say, snatching the milk from his grasp and returning it to the fridge.

“Do you know where Doctor Connors is?” Peter asks, glancing over at you as you return to the table.

“No, I lost him in the sewers last night.” You mutter, a serious silence falling over the two of you as you recall last night’s events and how you had crawled into your bedroom window rather loudly which Peter then investigated, finding you half dead with gashes all over your body.

“You’re feeling okay to go into school after what happened yesterday?” Peter asks quietly and you could hear the worry in his voice.

“I’m fine Pete. I started feeling better after I was all patched up. A perk to this whole spider bite business is I have enhanced healing abilities. Not that I’ve been wanting to test them out like that.” You say, assuring your brother that you’re fine and feeling better after last night. Peter just nods at your words and continues to eat his breakfast. When you both finish breakfast you put your bowls away and grab your bags so you can head to school. You meet up with Gwen along the way, with you teasing her and Peter for being so hopelessly in love. The school day passed painfully slowly and at the end of the day, you were ready to drop.

“Honestly, going to school feels like a job. They should be paying us for this.” You joke as you walk along the corridors, laughing along with Peter and Gwen after having met up with them after class. Just before Gwen could respond as you reach your lockers, the building shook, stopping everyone in their tracks. Your senses were screaming at you that there was danger, and you knew it was Connors.

“Peter, take Gwen and run.” You say quickly and lowly, only wanting Peter to hear you. Gwen didn’t know about your hero alter-ego and for now, she didn’t need to. It kept her safe to not know about it. You see Peter nod and take Gwen’s hand, bolting down the corridor with the rest of the students as Connors comes bursting through the doors, growling as he sees you. As the students clear the corridor you run towards Connors, dodging under his claws, and leading him away from where everyone else was. You needed to find a place where you could get into your suit to keep your identity secret. You already had your web-shooters on, you just couldn’t risk using them without the suit on. Connors was unbelievably strong, smashing you through walls and doors with ease until you end up in one of the science labs where Connors throws you into one of the equipment cupboards. You use the time to get into your suit as quickly as possible, just as your spider senses warn you that Connors threw a chemical concoction at you which blows up just as you move out of the way. You wait for the dust to clear as Connors rambles about how he wants to cure every one of humanity and turn them into lizards.

“You talk too much doc, has anyone ever told you that?” You joke as you leap out of the cupboard, now in your Spider-Woman suit as you land on one of the tables. Connors growls lowly at your words as you fire your webs at the lights, pulling them down on his head.

“You have a nasty habit of meddling in affairs you know nothing about.” Connors says before he lunges at you which you dodge with ease.

“I don’t know. I don’t really want to be a lizard if we’re being honest and I’m sure everyone else feels the same as me. Don’t you think being a lizard is rather impractical?” You continue, dodging and attacking the giant lizard while he smashes through walls trying to attack you. Connors managed to get some good hits on you as you hear the sound of police sirens grow louder.

“Someone’s in trouble.” You say in a singsong voice as Connors snorts angrily, baring his sharp teeth. He grabs you in his hand, claws digging into your shoulder as you wince before he throws you through the wall into the library. When you get up Connors is nowhere to be seen. Not willing to lose him now you head in the direction of his growls and stomps, following them to the bathroom where there was a large hole in the floor leading down into the sewers. You jump into the hole and start walking through the sewers. To your shock, your phone rings and you pull it out of your bag. Seeing Peter’s name flashing across the screen you pull your mask off and answer the call.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” Peter’s worried voice says the second the phone reaches your ear.

“I’m okay, a little banged up, but I’ll live. I’m in the sewers tracking him. Look I need your help with something. We need to create an antidote for Connors, you could do that right?” You say hurriedly as you walk, eyes constantly roaming the walls in case Connors is hiding somewhere.

“I’d have to go to Oscorp but yeah I can do it.” Peter says, his words calming you slightly.

“Okay, okay can you do that please?” You ask. Your senses on high alert as you speak.

“Yeah, I’ll go right now. Be safe.” Peter says quickly before hanging up. You eventually hear the distant sound of music and follow it to a makeshift lab in the sewers. Your eyes roam over everything, looking at the equipment Connors has gathered with Connors nowhere to be found. You notice a computer on the desk as a lizard crawls across it. You see the video it’s displaying and reach out to hit the space bar, watching the video carefully as it starts to play. As the Doctor Connors in the video explains how he wanted to fix humans weaknesses you wander around the lab noticing another screen that displays a human turning into a giant lizard and then a plan to disperse the lizard gas across the city from a tower you recognised instantly and had your heart running at a hundred miles an hour.

“Oscorp.”

You rush through the sewers, finding a manhole cover that will take you up to the streets of Manhattan and crawl out of it after returning your mask to your face, swiftly dodging a taxi before returning the manhole cover to its place. You grab your phone and dial Peter’s number, begging him quietly to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Peter, where are you?” You say quickly, anxiously pacing along the pavement.

“I’m in Oscorp, you said you needed-”

“Yeah, I know what I said you have to get out. Right now.” You say, your breath becoming quicker as fear takes hold.

“The antidote is being made right now.” Peter protests.

“No Peter, Connors is on his way to Oscorp right now. He wants the disbursement device, so he can turn everyone into lizards.” You force out, needing Peter to just listen to you.

“The antidote has a few minutes left.” Peter argues making you groan angrily. Why was he so damn stubborn?

“So you’re going to wait there with the knowledge Connors is on his way? I don’t think so. Get your ass out of there right now Peter I swear to god.” You demand, your voice raising but you didn’t care.

“I’m gonna get everyone out.” Peter says quickly before he hangs up on you, making you grit your teeth angrily.

“You’re an asshole.” You mutter at your phone before shoving it in your small suit pocket. Leaping up and shooting webs at the building nearby to swing from. As you swing around the buildings, heading for Oscorp you hear the whir of a helicopter and a bright light shines on you as you swing.

“Stand down now, we have you surrounded.” You hear the voice of Police Chief Stacy boom from the helicopter. As you swing, multiple police officers shoot electric bullets at you, each of them missing their mark but as you swing around a building you are momentarily blinded by the bright light from the helicopter, giving an officer a free shot. You wince and tense as the electrical currents run through you as you lose your grip on your web, falling onto a taxi, leaving you barely conscious. You could feel the police handcuffing you and sitting you up as your energy came back to you. You waited until you felt a hand gripping your mask and ripping it off your head before you acted. Snapping your handcuffs and sweeping Stacy’s feet out from underneath him before attacking the other officers, knocking them down and taking their weapons while keeping your face as obscured as possible. When you’ve knocked out most of the officers you freeze when you hear a gun cock behind you and a torch shine on you.

“Turn around.” Captain Stacy demands and you do as he wishes, watching as he falters upon seeing your face.

“y/n? y/n Parker? You’re Peter’s sister, right?” He questions as you stand up from your crouched position.

“Doctor Connors is on his way to Oscorp right now and Peter’s there. You have to let me go.” You plead, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of your brother in such danger. You slowly approach Captain Stacy, maintaining eye contact as he keeps his gun trained on you. You crouch down and pick up your mask, putting it on before darting off, jumping off the same taxi you landed on, and firing your web at the nearest building. You heard Captain Stacy calling out to someone to hold their fire, but they didn’t listen, and you cry out in pain as a bullet hits your leg as you land on the top of the building. But you couldn’t stop now. You had to get to Oscorp. The more you climbed, the harder it became. Your leg was in agony, and you had no clear shot of Oscorp. After dragging yourself to the top of yet another building, you looked up to see all the cranes moving to give you something to swing from so you could reach Oscorp. You glance down at all the people evacuating the area and shoot a web over your injury, hoping it will help at least a little bit. You back up to the other end of the building before running to jump and shot your web, but the closest crane was still too far for your web to reach but as you fell you managed to grab onto a piece of metal hanging from a closer crane as when you looked to the operator, you recognised him as the guy from the bridge, you saved his son the first night Connors was spotted as the Lizard. You thanked him silently with a nod before leaping off, shooting your web, and swinging from the next crane. You continue this until you land on the side of the Oscorp building. You then fire two webs higher up on the building and use them as means to slingshot yourself higher until you reach the top. You could see Connors right at the top of the spire and you knew he was activating his serum, so you were pressed for time. You slingshot your way to the top and kicked him away from the device, needing him to be as far away from it as possible so you could deactivate it. Turns out, when someone is desperate, they put up one hell of a fight. You noticed that a lot of canisters he threw at you were liquid nitrogen and you quickly figured they could work in your favour but every time you tried to get near one, Connors would knock you away. When you were knocked down for what felt like the hundredth time Connors grabs you, wrapping his tail around your neck and gripping your wrists, and smashing your web-shooters. Grabbing your wrists in one large hand, he uses his other to pull the mask off your head, chuckling lowly when he sees your face as you fight for breath.

“Poor y/n Parker. No mother. No father. No uncle. All alone.” Connors snarls as his tail constricts your throat tighter.

“She’s not alone.” Connors turns around with a growl, seeing both Peter and Captain Stacy stood side by side.

“Peter Parker.” Connors growls, his sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight as he roars. Captain Stacy lifts his gun and fires it at the liquid nitrogen tank near you. Using the distraction to your advantage, you yank your hands free and hold the pipe spewing liquid nitrogen in Connors’ face causing his grip on your throat to loosen and you land on the ground. When he swings his tail at you to attack you hold the pipe up, watching as the liquid nitrogen freezes his tail right off. You continue the assault as Captain Stacy fires shell after shell at Connors. When you heard the disbursement device announcing there were forty-five seconds left until it would fire Connors’ lizard serum you acted quickly, throwing the pipe into the hole filled with liquid nitrogen containers and kicking Connors back into it as Captain Stacy continues to shoot.

“Here. Take this and go.” You look over to see Peter holding out the antidote towards you.

“We’ve got this y/n. you need to go.” Captain Stacy says, his gun trained on where Connors was. You nod hurriedly and begin climbing up the spire, going as fast as your body will allow. When you reach the top, you start opening the device so you can swap the serum with the antidote but as you do that, the spire starts to shake, and you look down to see Connors crawling up as fast as he can. The second you can, you remove the serum and replace it with the antidote just as Connors grabs your foot, pulling you down as you grip onto the small walkway. You watch tensely as the device fires, hoping that this works. You flinch slightly at the large flashes before watching a blue cloud of gas rain down over the city. Connors loses his grip on your leg and falls; you climb back onto the spire. Just before you could start your climb down the spire starts to fall, leaving you no choice but to jump off. You almost fall off the building before someone catches you and you look up to see Connors gripping onto your wrist tightly, pulling you up as he continues to transform back into a human. When he’s finally hauled you onto the safety of the roof you turn to look at him, struggling with what to say. Before you could say anything, Connors’ eyes widen in shock and realisation.

“Peter…”

Hearing Connors’ concern when he spoke had you up on your feet in seconds, running over to where you last saw Peter and Captain Stacy.

“Peter! Peter, where are-” You stop in your tracks when you see Peter on the floor, blood pooling from his chest. You slowly approach him, kneeling by his side and gently pulling him into your arms, apologising quietly when he winces. The smell of his blood was overwhelming, making you want to throw up and you could taste the iron on your lips.

“Connors, is he…?”

“All cured. No more lizard people.” You say, fighting to keep a smile on your face for Peter’s sake.

“Look, we’ve got to get you help.” You say quickly, looking down at Peter’s injuries.

“No. y/n, I’m not going to make it. You should focus on getting out of here.” Peter manages to say as tears build in your eyes.

“Shut up. You are not dying, okay? We’re going to get you to an ambulance, and they’ll patch you up because god knows I’m hopeless at it.” You attempt to joke, a weak laugh escaping both yours and Peter’s lips.

“I don’t think there’s much even trained professionals could do about this. I look worse than you did.” Peter’s attempted humour made you frown, tears now rolling down your cheeks. You glance down to your gloved hands which were now coated in his blood, the dark red of his blood contrasting the bright red of your suit.

“Don’t say that. Please.” You whimper. The crushing reality of your brother’s injuries setting in as the tears flow.

“You saved the city, y/n. You’ve proved to everyone that the city needs you. You have to keep going. Don’t let this stop you, okay? But don’t let Spider-Woman take over. You still need to be y/n.” Peter says, his voice weak yet comforting as he speaks.

“I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose you, Peter.” You say quietly, hating yourself for sounding so weak in front of him.

“Hey, you stopped needing me a long time ago. The spider bite only proved it. You don’t need your big brother anymore.” Peter mutters, his face drained of colour, and you could hear his heartbeat getting slower and fainter.

“No. I don’t care how old I am or whether I have superpowers or not. I’m always going to need my brother and that’s why you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me, Pete?” You plead, shaking Peter ever so slightly in an effort to keep him conscious.

“I don’t say it enough, but I love you so much y/n/n. Don’t forget that.” Peter forces out, his breaths small and weak.

“I love you too Pete. I love you so much.” You whisper, looking up at the stars in the sky in a vain attempt to stop your tears from falling. The second your ears couldn’t pick up Peter’s weak heartbeat your head snapped to look at him once more. You carefully lifted him closer to your head, your ear hovering over his mouth as you anxiously awaited a breath you knew was never going to come.

“Peter? Hey, come on wake up. Please wake up. I won’t even be mad if you’re pranking me right now. I just need you to open your eyes and wake up. Just open your eyes that’s all you have to do and then I’ll stop bothering you. It’s easy, I know you can do it. Please, Peter?” You beg, resting your forehead against his cold temple as you continue to sob and beg him to wake up.

“y/n, you need to get out of here.” You hear Captain Stacy’s voice as he approaches you, but you make no effort to move, only clutching Peter closer to your chest protectively.

“I’m not leaving him.” You state, barely shifting your gaze to look at the police captain.

“I know you don’t want to, but you have to. The rest of the police will be up here soon enough, and you can’t be here.” Captain Stacy insists, holding your mask out towards you.

“I can’t.” You insist, finally looking up at him, your teary eyes meeting his gentle ones.

“This is for your own safety. I know you don’t want to leave him. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but you need to listen to me. I’m going to call people up to take care of this and you need to get home. I saw that Connors broke your web shooter things so I’m willing to drive you home so I can give the news to your aunt as well. Have you got a change of clothes? I guess your aunt doesn’t know about this superhero stuff.” Captain Stacy says firmly yet gently. His heart was breaking, not only for you but for his daughter. He hardly got to know Peter in the time he was dating Gwen, but he knew they loved each other.

“I uh… I have clothes in my backpack, but I left it in the sewers you’d have to drive me to the manhole I came out of first. I also think we should pick up Gwen too. She deserves to know about Peter.” You say, your voice thick with tears as Captain Stacy nods.

“Okay, we can do that. Now, I’m going to call my men up here. I’ll make sure they bring along some paramedics or something so Peter is dealt with accordingly, okay?” Captain Stacy says, his voice never wavering or straying from the gentle tone.

“I’m not leaving until I know Peter’s in good hands.” You assert, taking the mask from Captain Stacy and glancing from the mask to Peter as Captain Stacy moved away to contact his officers. Your shoulders sank as the realisation that this was all your fault sank in. if you had just dealt with Connors without getting Peter involved this wouldn’t have happened.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of police and paramedics making their way up the stairs, so you press a quick, gentle kiss to Peter’s forehead before pulling your mask on. You looked up when the door to the roof opened and saw a team of police officers followed by a small handful of paramedics enter. The police surveyed the area, some of them even pointed their guns at you and demanded you move away from Peter, growing enraged when you didn’t move, only staring them down from behind the mask. Captain Stacy had to step in quickly, telling his men to lower their weapons and to leave you be before waving the paramedics over.

“Sorry about this but we do need to take him.” The paramedic who approaches you and kneels by your side says. Her voice was soft and gentle as you nod slightly.

“Take care of him. Please.” You whisper, hesitantly allowing the paramedics to take Peter from your arms, laying him on a stretcher and covering him carefully with a white sheet as you watch them take him away. You heard one of the paramedics muttering under their breath about how Peter was ‘just a kid’ and how he was distraught on behalf of Peter’s family. You knew the comment was a one-off and they didn’t know you were actually Peter’s family but that didn’t stop the comment from being a stab to the heart.

“Your job here is done Spider-Woman. You can go now.” One of the police officers said, his distaste for you obvious in his voice. You clenched your hands into fists and turned away, walking over to the edge of the building, and surveying the city. You heard Captain Stacy approach you and he told you quietly to wait for him in the location he told you and that he’d pick you up in his car and take you to where your bag was before picking up Gwen and taking you home. You nod and bid him goodbye before you start scaling down the building after having no other way to get down without your web-shooters. Once you reach the ground you climb up the nearest building and jump from roof to roof until you reach the location Captain Stacy to wait at. You linger in the alleyway, noticing how quiet it is because of the evacuation that happened, and you could only hope it would stay this quiet for a bit longer. Soon enough a police car pulls up and when you see Captain Stacy you don’t hesitate to get into the car.

“Okay, where are we going?” He asks as you close the door. You tell him which manhole you came out of when you came to stop Connors. Once he arrives you quickly remove the cover, dropping down and scooping up your bag and changing back into your clothes and shoving your suit back into the bag, and zipping it up. You then climb back out of the manhole and replace the cover before climbing back into the car. Captain Stacy pulls up outside where he lives and calls Gwen to get her to come down. As you wait, you wipe your eyes and your cheeks to hopefully rid them of tears, but you knew it wasn’t worth it because you’d be sobbing again soon enough.

“Hey, dad, where are we- y/n, what happened?” Gwen says, getting into the back of the car with you when she notices the blood and cuts on your face.

“Let’s just get her home, okay? We can talk more there.” Captain Stacy says quickly, starting the drive to your house. The silence was excruciating. You knew Gwen was worried. You could hear her quick heartbeat despite the calm expression she was fighting to keep on her face.

When the car eventually pulls up outside of your house you grab your bag and hesitantly get out. Captain Stacy encourages you to go to the door first, both him and Gwen following behind as you unlock the door and walk in.

“y/n, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you and Peter. Where is that brother of yours? Is he with Gwen?” Your aunt May says, hurrying over to the door when she notices you. She pulls you into a hug which you accept, burying your face in her shoulder as you hold back tears.

“Oh, can I help you?” May then says, noticing Captain Stacy and Gwen over your shoulder as you continue to cling to her.

“I think we should have this discussion in the living room if you don’t mind.” Captain Stacy says gently, gesturing towards the living room and you watch as Aunt May nods walking into the living room with you, Gwen, and Captain Stacy following close behind. You sit in between Aunt May and Gwen as Captain Stacy remains standing in the middle of the room. Everything Captain Stacy said rattled around your head, a horrible confirmation that what happened wasn’t some horrific nightmare. You clutched Aunt May’s hand as she cried, moving to pull her into a hug as you both cried. You opened the embrace up to Gwen as well and the three of you cry in each other’s arms. It took minutes that felt more like hours for the three of you to recover enough to move or speak. Gwen pulled away from the hug first, turning to her father with tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m spending the night here. I can’t leave May and y/n like this.” Gwen says, her voice cracking and thick with tears. Captain Stacy sighs heavily but nods before turning to look at you.

“y/n, can I speak to you in private?” Captain Stacy asks, and you nod standing up and leading Captain Stacy out onto the porch. It wasn’t practical to stand outside in the cold but there was less of a chance of Aunt May or Gwen overhearing you if you were outside rather than inside.

“I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise me that you’ll keep Gwen out of all this hero business. I know she’s your friend but I’m asking you to keep her separate from your superhero life. Keeping this a secret will keep her safe can you promise me that?” Captain Stacy says, seriousness clear in his voice.

“Promise me, y/n.” Captain Stacy repeats when he notices your obvious hesitance. You understood where Captain Stacy was coming from, he wanted to keep his daughter and his family safe, and just knowing you was a danger. Eventually, you nod. It was a small movement, you were sure Captain Stacy would’ve missed it if he wasn’t staring down at you intensely. Seemingly satisfied, Captain Stacy backs off and heads inside with you so he can say goodbye to Gwen. Once Captain Stacy is gone you turn to Aunt May, taking her hand and sitting down next to her once more.

“You should go to bed Aunt May.” You say gently, helping her to her feet and leading her to her bedroom when she nods. You say goodnight to May, biting back more tears as you close her bedroom door before retreating to your own. You enter your room, walking a couple of steps before collapsing to your knees and curling up by your bed as tears roll down your cheeks. You pull your bag off your shoulder and open it carefully. You pull your Spider-Woman suit out and stare at it in your hands, shame flowing through you as you stare at the symbol on the middle of the chest. Spider-Woman was supposed to save everyone, but you couldn’t save the life of someone so important to you.

“y/n, are you okay?” Upon hearing Gwen’s voice coming from behind your door you hurriedly shove the suit back into your bag, tossing it aside as Gwen comes in.

“Sorry, am I being too loud?” You apologise, wiping at your cheeks with your hoodie sleeve.

“No, you’re fine. I just wanted to check on you. Especially after my dad wanted to talk to you in private. What did he say? You looked pretty shaken after you came back in.” Gwen asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing soothing circles as you shake your head.

“I can’t say. He made me promise.” You whisper, leaning into Gwen’s touch slightly and allowing her to wrap her arms around you.

“Please tell me. We can deal with whatever it is together.” Gwen pleads, holding you close as you move to hug her back.

“Your dad will kill me.” You mumble against her shoulder, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

“He can’t kill you if he doesn’t know. I’m a pretty good secret keeper.” Gwen says reassuringly. You bit your lip nervously as you pulled away. Gwen was unknowingly willing to put herself in danger. As you thought about it, your hand hovering near the bag, you realised Gwen deserved to know the truth about Peter’s death.

“Your dad wasn’t exactly honest about how Peter died…” You mumble, unzipping your bag.

“Not exactly honest? What do yo-” You cut Gwen off by pulling your suit out of the bag and placing it on your lap, even pulling your web-shooters out for good measure.

“Peter wasn’t caught in the crossfire when Connors was travelling to Oscorp. Connors killed him at Oscorp, and it was my fault.” You say eyes fixed on the suit as you talk, willing the tears to not fall.

“It’s not your fault.” Gwen starts, reaching out to embrace you again, only stopping when you move away, shaking your head.

“It is. I shouldn’t have told him about the spider bite. He wouldn’t be dead if I just kept my mouth shut and now, I’ve put you in danger too.” You say, snatching the suit and web-shooters shoving them back in your bag before tucking the bag under your bed. You didn’t fully think about telling the truth about Peter’s death to Gwen through and now you’ve put another person in danger because of your recklessness.

“Look, you should just go to bed.” You quickly say, standing up and moving further away from Gwen. You notice Gwen open her mouth to respond but quickly closed it, nodding, and turning around to leave.

“Okay, I’ll go to bed. You should do the same. You know where to find me if you need me.” Gwen says softly before leaving your room, closing the door behind her. You grab your first aid kit out of your wardrobe and spend some time cleaning and patching up your wounds before you flop backward on your bed. You stare up at the ceiling for a while before you figure you should try to get some sleep. Every time you closed your eyes you see Peter’s dead body, his blood staining your hands. You resorted to staying awake, eventually climbing out of your window, and crawling over to the roof covering the porch. You sit with your back against the house, knees tucked up to your chest as you stare up at the stars. You remained on the roof the whole night, watching the sunrise with teary eyes. You only moved from your spot on the roof when you heard movement coming from inside the house, crawling back in through your window. You then change into some clean clothes, chucking your dirty ones in your wash basket before you hear May calling you for breakfast. You wanted to wallow in your grief and failure, but you also didn’t want May to worry so you forced yourself downstairs, sitting down at the table as May places some food down in front of you. Gwen enters the room not long after you started eating and joins you at the table. You could tell from her expression that she wanted to ask you some questions or just enquire further into your secret life.

“y/n, I have to run to the shops. Is there anything you need?” May questions, placing a gentle hand on your own. You shook your head, a weak smile on your face in an attempt to convince May you’ll be okay while she’s gone. You watch as May exits the house, closing the door behind her as you stand up and move to put your plate away. You heard Gwen following behind and you moved quicker, darting into your room, and locking the door behind you.

“Seriously y/n? You can’t just shut me out.” Gwen says from behind the door as you crouch down by your bed and pull your bag out from underneath it. You pull out your web-shooters and place them on your desk as Gwen continues to knock.

“Go home, Gwen. I’m sure your dad won’t like you hanging around me much longer.” You say, your attention fully on your web-shooters as you open your drawer filled with spare parts out. You heard Gwen huff and leave but deep down you knew she wasn’t just gone. She wouldn’t stop trying to get through to you.

When the day of Peter’s funeral came you felt like you were at your breaking point. It was a small service, only a handful of people came. You and May obviously attended along with Gwen and her family. Harry Osborn, Peter’s best friend growing up managed to attend too. The rest of the attendees were friends of May’s. People that had known you and Peter growing up. Some people from school attempted to come but you knew they were all the same people who bullied him and would make up some stupid story about how much they loved him now that he’s gone. The second you caught wind of those people planning to attend you shut them down, angry tears streaming down your face as you scolded them for pretending to care now that he’s dead. During the actual service, you bit your lip as the tears never seemed to slow. Aunt May had her arm around your shoulder for the whole service and you remained leant into her side. You and Gwen were the two people who did eulogies for Peter and neither of you made it through without tears pouring down your cheeks. By the end of the service, you felt like you had cried enough to fill several swimming pools. As people started to leave you and May made sure to thank those who came and as someone was walking away you heard them mutter to their husband.

“I wonder if that Spider-Woman could’ve stopped the Lizard sooner. That way Peter might still be alive.” Those words struck your heart. Was there a way you could’ve stopped Connors sooner? You’re shaken out of your thoughts by Aunt May wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“We should head home.”

Over the days after the funeral you found yourself adapting your daily schedule. You would go to school during the day. You made sure to distance yourself from everyone. Most people put it up to grief and tried to approach you, but you barely engaged with them, so they soon gave up trying altogether. Except Gwen. You had to avoid her as much as possible. You’d leave the cafeteria when she came in or you’d walk the other way if you saw her in the corridors. When school was over you would rush home so you could say goodbye to Aunt May before her night shift and when she was gone, you’d change into your Spider-Woman suit and start patrol. You had made a completely new suit to try and combat any bad memories the previous one held. It didn’t work but you needed a suit, so you suffered through it. Those words whispered at the funeral still echoed in your head so you made a vow to patrol all night long so you could be there to stop anything before it got any worse. If nights were quiet you would sit on top of the Empire State Building, remembering how Peter told you it would be his thinking spot if he had your powers. You’d remain out on patrol until the sun started to rise, swinging home, and using the time between then and school to do any homework you had. Rinse and repeat cycle. Weekends were obviously different but not too different. You just patrolled longer and again; any extra time was for finishing homework. You had completely closed yourself off to the world. You didn’t feel like y/n Parker anymore. You had done what Peter told you not to do. You let Spider-Woman take over.

For a few weeks, you were able to do this schedule. Yes, you were exhausted, overworked and at your wits end but you’d take this over someone else losing their life because of your failures as a protector. Because of your enhanced abilities, you could go a lot longer than others without sleep, that’s why you were able to patrol all night and still be able to attend school during the day. One weekend when you were patrolling you suddenly became really dizzy, your ears were ringing, and your exhaustion was at an all-time high. You landed on the first roof you found, intending to sit down and rest for a moment but the second your feet met the roof the ground quickly came rushing up to meet you. Your world growing dark in an instant.

You came to slightly when you felt someone shaking you. Their voice was a faint echo, and your vision was still dark. You felt yourself being pulled to your feet as the voice kept speaking to you. You couldn’t respond or do anything else than try to support your weight. If you were more conscious you would’ve gotten yourself out of the situation because you didn’t know who this person was, and they could easily unmask you and expose your identity to the world. Your senses, however dull and weak they might be right now, were telling you this person was trustworthy. You allowed this person to lead you into their flat and the second you reached a bed you passed out once more.

The second time you came around you were much more aware. You jolted up the second you realised you didn’t recognise where you were. Panic seizing you when you then realised you didn’t have your mask on.

“You’re awake.” Your eyes snapped to the only other person in this room. Heart pounding when your eyes locked with Gwen’s. You scrambled to get out of the bed, your head immediately spinning at the sudden movement as you grab the bedside table to steady yourself.

“Hey, it’s okay. You need to rest. When’s the last time you slept?” Gwen says as she gently pushes you back so you’re sitting on the bed. When you remain silent at her question she frowns slightly.

“y/n. When is the last time you properly slept?” She repeats. Gwen already had a feeling she knew what the answer was, but she wanted confirmation from you first.

“How long has it been since…” You start, trailing off when you see Gwen’s expression shift at the realisation.

“Right you’re resting some more now.” Gwen says, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“I can’t. I’m supposed to be patrolling right now.” You say, attempting to get up once more, being stopped by Gwen placing her hand on your shoulder.

“The city can go one day without you. After all you do for us, you deserve a day to rest.” Gwen says softly. You wanted to argue but knowing you wouldn’t win you sighed heavily and flopped back on the bed, pulling the duvet over you. Gwen remained in the room with you, wanting to keep a close eye on you. Her worry for you was reaching intense levels and she needed to make sure you were taking care of yourself. You were asleep for about fifteen minutes before you sat bolt upright, gasping for air as tears rolled down your cheeks. Gwen was by your side in a second, sitting beside you with worried eyes.

“I should go, Gwen. I’m really not going to get any sleep, but I appreciate the help.” You say, pushing the duvet off you and grabbing your mask from the bedside table before crossing to the window.

“y/n, please talk to me. You’re killing yourself by not sleeping. If you really didn’t need the sleep, I wouldn’t have found you passed out on the roof. I know it’s tough without Peter but-”

“Tough? This is more than tough. Every single day is agony and I have to live with the knowledge that it was my fault. I killed him. If I could go back to that day and be the one killed, I’d switch places with him in a heartbeat. I’d give up everything if it meant I got Peter back. The only way I can escape the constant pity stares and whispers is by being Spider-Woman. Everyone thinks Spider-Woman is strong, that she’s never experienced loss, but she has. I lost my parents, and then I lost Uncle Ben and then I lost Peter. Uncle Ben and Peter? Both of their deaths are on me. That’s why I patrol all night every night. I don’t want someone suffering like I am. Do you know what my biology teacher said the other day? She said that despite everything that happened, Doctor Connors was a brilliant man. She said that right in front of me. If he was such a brilliant man, why did he turn himself into a giant lizard and kill my brother? It’s like she didn’t even care that I was in the room. Sometimes I wish Connors didn’t help me when the spire collapsed. I don’t know how to be there for Aunt May. I’m letting her down Gwen. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be me anymore. I feel like I died up on that roof with Peter.” You rant, pacing the room as your gloved hands tangled in your hair in your frustration as tears rolled down your cheeks. Gwen watched your whole tangent carefully. She knew you were hiding just how distraught you really were, but she didn’t realise you had this much bottled up inside. When you cease your pacing, stopping in the middle of the room with your chest rising and falling deeply with each breath, Gwen finally gets the courage to approach you. She gently moves your hands away from their place rooted in your hair before pulling you into a tight hug as you sob. Each broken cry breaking her heart further.

“That’s it. Cry as much as you need.” Gwen whispers reassuringly, tears pricking her own eyes as you bury your face in her shoulder. You and Gwen remain stood in the middle of her room crying until she moves to sit you both down on her bed once more.

“I miss him so much. I miss him so much it hurts.” You whimper, hating how weak and childish you sounded.

“I know. I know. I miss him too.” Gwen replies, her voice gentle and soothing as she speaks.

“I want you to listen to me now, okay? I know the pain you’re feeling is very different to mine. He’s your brother and he died right in front of you I can’t imagine the heartache this is bringing you, but you can’t go around blaming yourself for something you had no control over. Peter clearly knew what he was doing when he came to help you. He knew the risks and he wanted to protect you just as much as you wanted to protect him, and I know he’d hate that you’re blaming yourself for this. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself as Spider-Woman. You need to remember how to be you again. Okay, maybe the city needs Spider-Woman. But me and May? We need y/n Parker more. You’re not going to like this idea, but I think you should take a break from your hero duties to rest up and spend time with May. You’re going to let me help you. We’re going to work together from now on. I won’t get involved in any of the fights and stuff unless I really think you need my help. I can help you balance y/n and Spider-Woman and I mean a healthy balance. Please y/n, I know you’re worried I’ll be in danger, but I don’t care. I want to help.” Gwen says, pulling away and holding you at arm’s length to look you in the eyes properly. She could see the hesitation and fear in your eyes. What had happened had scarred you deeply and she wanted to do her best to help you through it.

“Okay. You can help but you have to promise you’ll stay away from me when I’m in the suit. Unless you’re in danger and I need to help you.” You say, nodding slightly at what Gwen said and seeing the small smile crossing her face.

“I should get going. I’m long overdue a talk with Aunt May. Thank you, Gwen. For helping me. You did a lot more than move my sorry ass off that roof and I don’t think I’ll be able to thank you enough.” You say, standing up carefully and taking your mask in your hands from where it had been abandoned on the floor.

“Promise me you’ll get some rest. No Spider-Woman patrols for at least the next few nights.” Gwen says, getting up and pulling you into a hug.

“Promise.” You assure with a smile. You pull your mask over your head and go to open Gwen’s window. As you start to climb onto the fire escape Gwen’s bedroom door opens and upon seeing Captain Stacy you move fast, scrambling out of the window and jumping over the fire escape railing to swing away.

“Gwen, would you care to explain why Spider-Woman was in here?” Captain Stacy questions, his face straight and serious as he approaches his daughter.

“I think you’re seeing things dad I think I’d know if Spider-Woman was in my room.” Gwen responds, trying to see if she can confuse her dad.

“I know Spider-Woman when I see her. Why was she in your room Gwen?” He demands, his voice rising slightly.

“Why’d you tell y/n to leave me alone?” Gwen counters, watching as her father’s eyes grow wider at the realisation that she knows.

“It was for your own safety Gwen-”

“I think I’m perfectly capable of making decisions regarding my own safety thank you very much.” Gwen cuts her father off, crossing her arms as she stares at him.

“I’m sure Peter thought he could make that kind of choice too and look where he ended up. That girl brings nothing but death and destruction I don’t want you around her.” Captain Stacy says, pointing towards the window you had just crawled out of.

“You are not seriously blaming y/n for what happened to Peter. She saved the city that night. Do you know how distraught she is that Peter died? She’s been overworking herself because she doesn’t want anyone else in the city experiencing the loss she has. People like you, blaming her for what happened to Peter are the reason I found her passed out on the roof. She was working so hard because she blamed herself and probably because of those horrible news articles about her. She does so much for the city. No one asked her to use her powers to keep the city safe she chose to do it. Imagine if she stood by and watched when Connors went crazy and tried to turn everyone into lizards? You’re being way too harsh on someone who helps you a lot more than you care to admit.” Gwen says sternly, stepping closer to her dad as she speaks.

“No. Don’t say anything, just get out.” Gwen says when she notices her dad open his mouth to speak. She watches as he closes his mouth and huffs in annoyance before turning on his heel and exiting her room.

Meanwhile, you had just reached your house. May had gone to work when you left for patrol but now judging by the lights being on inside, she was back. You snuck in through your window, getting changed out of your suit and into some normal clothes as quietly as possible before grabbing your house keys and sneaking back out the window to come in through the front door. You wanted May to think you’d been out.

“Hey May!” You call out as you enter the house, seeing her in the kitchen and walking into the room, and greeting her with a hug.

“Where were you, huh? I tried calling but you left your phone in your room.” May questions, a raised eyebrow as she looks at you.

“I went to Gwen’s. Sorry I completely forgot my phone. I didn’t mean to worry you.” You apologise, pulling away from her embrace.

“You’re hanging out with Gwen again? That’s so good sweetie.” Aunt May says, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, she uh… she helped me put everything into perspective. I can’t believe I forgot how smart she is. I missed talking to her.” You reply, thinking back to when you were at her house and the things she said.

“I know everything has been hard for you recently. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you enough.” Aunt May says, a frown crossing her face as you move to grab her hand that was resting on the counter.

“Hey, don’t say that. You weren’t at fault at all. I’m the one who locked myself away. If anything I should be apologising to you. I’m not the only one who lost someone that night.” You say softly, turning May so she’ll face you.

“I’m going to be here for you more May, I promise. I just didn’t know how to handle everything; it was too much.” You continue, your sorrow evident on your face as May shakes her head lightly.

“Honey, everyone deals with grief differently. I can’t fault you for grieving this way. It seems to me that you’re working on yourself now which makes me happy, but you don’t need to rush healing. It’s a process. You’re not expected to be okay so soon after losing someone close to you.” May says reassuringly, bringing you in for another hug.

“You and Gwen are just filled to the brim of what to say, aren’t you?” You say, a slight teasing tone to your voice as you pull away.

“Maybe it’ll rub off on you one day.” May replies with a chuckle.

“I know this might kill the mood a little, but I wanted to ask you something. I thought of it on the way back from Gwen’s. I was wondering if you’re not busy if you wanted to sit and chat? About Peter and maybe even Uncle Ben? I’ve tried so hard to avoid thinking about Peter or talking about him and I think that’s a reason as to why I hid away so much. I couldn’t stand the thought that he was really gone.” You say, tears springing to your eyes as you talk, you even looked away from your aunt’s soft eyes in favour of looking at the counter instead. You only looked at May when she gently took your face in her hands and made you look at her.

“Of course, we can. Go and sit in the living room I just want to grab something first.” She says softly, her smile reassuring as you nod. You head into the living room and sit on the sofa, leaning back into the plush pillows as Aunt May returns with a book in her hands.

“These are pictures Ben, and I took of you and Peter growing up since the day we took you in.” May says as she sits beside you, placing the photo album in her lap as your eyes widen slightly. You watch as she opens the album, pointing at a picture of Peter when he was about five years old, a year after your parents had left you in the care of your aunt and uncle.

“This was from Peter’s first day at school. You didn’t want him to go, bless you. I had to distract you long enough for Ben to sneak out the door with Peter. You were devastated when you realised, he was gone.” May said with a smile on her face at the memory. You had always adored your older brother and looked up to him and that day years ago was just proof of your love and adoration.

“How long was I upset for?” You question, your eyes flicking from that photo to the one underneath. A photo clearly taken when Peter had gotten back from school as you were giving him the biggest hug you could as he hugged you back.

“Not too long, you calmed down when I explained that he would be back. I may have also been a little lenient with giving you a few extra snacks.” She says, her last sentence making you laugh.

“Food was always the way to my heart.” You joke, leaning your head on your aunt’s shoulder as she presses a kiss to the top of your head. You spend most of the day going through the album with May. Listening intently to every story she told about each picture. Being able to talk freely about Peter and reminisce on the good times you had with him eased your heartache a little. You still couldn’t help but feel the burden of guilt for what happened to him, but you did your best to push it aside for the sake of attempting to heal and process your grief properly. Like Aunt May said, healing was a process, and you shouldn’t be expected to just be okay after losing someone so close to your heart. You were grateful you had people to help you through it, but you knew you had to help them in return, and if that meant taking a step back from your hero responsibilities you’d do it, albeit reluctantly and after a lot of convincing from a certain Gwen Stacy. As May pointed out another photo and began explaining what Uncle Ben had done to elicit such a reaction from you and Peter you felt something stirring within you, it wasn’t your spider-sense it was just a rush of emotions. You couldn’t tell what it could be. Love for those around you? Hope for a better tomorrow? You just couldn’t tell. All you did know is you didn’t want the feeling to end as you remained curled up at your aunt’s side.

You didn’t know then that in a couple of years’ time you’d be hurtled through the multiverse and manage to get the closure you wished for every single day since Peter died.

#justabigassnerd #the amazing spider man #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker x you #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x sister!reader #tasm peter parker x sister!reader #x sister!reader #andrew!spiderman #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader

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alk4li · 2 years

Text

'' the witness ,,

tasm!peter x reader

synopsis : you like- love peter, ever since childhood. staring at him like hes a bright star in the sky, you could see the same look in his eyes. just his longing gaze wasnt directed to you.

it was another usual wednesday, a soft breeze, coffee in your hands while you walk toward campus. you shuffle through your noted at hand, studying for the upcoming class while walking to your locker.

you stuff your books inside the locker when you hear someone approaching from behind, "hello, y/n," a tall brunette said with a teasing grin.

you smiled softly, "hi, parker," you shut your locker and turned around now facing peter. his hair slightly disheveled, skateboard in his left hand, a few books and notes in his right hand. you could study him for ages, but you refrained from staring too much.

peter nudged you, signalling you to walk with him to your first class. "so, ms y/n. did you study for the test? or you did you fall asleep again?" he joked, remembering when you fell asleep trying to study for physics.

you feigned offence, "hey! that was a one time thing. plus physics is boring," you rolled your eyes as the unbelievably goodlooking man besides you let out one of the most heartwarming giggle.

as you two reached your class and settled down in your seats, gwen approached you two.

gwen. she is so pretty. captivating blue oceanic eyes, silky blonde hair, the personality worthy of priceless artifacts. her beauty is a work of art. hell, you could compare her to the Mona Lisa and gwen could look more majestic.

really, its no wonder peter likes her. youve known him since childhood, how could you not notice the way he looks at her? something in his eyes changes around her. she does something to him that you want to do so, so, so badly.

peter instantly beamed up and faced gwen, chatting with her. you quietly retreat back to your notes, yet you were unable to concentrate. you could only hear their chattering and giggles. you wanted to simply duck away into your bed covers. your heartaches, it tugs and pulls. "it hurts," you think.

after school, youre walking next to peter, mindlessly kicking the gravel at your feet before he spoke up, "man, the test was so easy. i cant wait to finally go home and take a nap." he seemed more tense than usual, but before you can ask whats wrong he speaks up. "hey, you know, i was talking to gwen, right? okay, uh, dont- dont tell others but-" he paused.

you gripped your notes slightly tighter, "but?"

peter looked away bashfully, "i- i think... i like her."

there it was.

"ah," you mumbled. you tried your best to conceal your heartbreak and trying to act normal.

"i asked her out- tomorrow. so, this is abrupt but i REALLY need your help. please," he practically started to beg you, desperation in his eyes.

as a good friend, you tried your best to give him some good pointers while he listened attentively. but with every word you felt your heart break further, it was like the universe was giving a big 'fuck you' by making you sit back and watch as two of your friends fall inlove while you helplessly watch from the sidelines.

peter nodded along, "okay, so i should just try to act cool. yeah, no big deal!' he gave a nervous chuckle. the chuckle you would give your life just to hear, yet now you wanted anything but to hear that cute ass chuckle.

soon you two parted ways, him leaving to get ready for that damned date. and as for you. you opened the door to your apartment, making a beeline for the comfort of your bed covers. not bothering to change out of your clothes you sat down on your bed. you silently observed your bedroom, trying to distract yourself.

however your room, you notice, is filled with memories of you and peter.

you feel the numbness starting to fade away, the sadness settling in. "damn you cupid," you whispered. the pain clawing at your inside as you stare at your photos together. why couldnt you be gwen?

the next day was the embodiment of hell. you walked alone to class for the first time in forever, sat alone at your desk and watched as gwen and peter came in the class holding hands.

you divert your attention from their intertwined hands, choosing to mindlessly doodle on your notebook instead.

"hey, y/n," a soft voice called out to you. you turned to face gwen as she took the seat beside you, "i was meaning to tell you about the date yesterday, but it seems someone else beat me to it," she giggled, staring at peter who was getting scolded by a teacher.

you smiled, albeit fake, you smiled and congratulated the two. just act cool. act cool. pretend everything is okay as peter drags gwen out of the class holding onto her hand like it was the lifeline keeping him stable, see as they kiss each other under the mistletoe, witness them sneaking off a party thinking no one saw them and you slowly watched as your heart broke in two.

you could only watch.

#Spotify #spiderman #peter parker #spidey #andrew garfield #tasm peter x reader #tasmedit #tasm fanfiction #the amazing spiderman #peter x reader #tasm imagine #peter x y/n #peter x you

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hollandsmushroom · 3 years

Note

sharing another thought i had about peter painting your nails and then kissing your palm when he’s done 🥺

Dote on You || P.P

Ashanti!(i desperately need to come up with a nickname for you babes) I always get carried away with your requests so here is like...

Word Count: 1246 words of soft Peter Parker fluff

Warnings: Suggestiveness and mentions of a boner and insane amounts of fluff!

Read more here and request/give feedback here

Peter was so much different out of the suit than he was in it, the weaponized spandex making him have a confidence that was unknown to him and you always found it so interesting to watch. You always revelled in the way that he would be fighting a criminal, someone holding the power to destroy a city and when he won, he always won, he would return to you, peel the mask from his soft features and melt into your arms, cuddling his often scraped up face into the crook of your neck, and you loved it, you loved how you made him soft and weak in the knees.

You always spent time together after missions, taking time to recover while in each others arms, because when you were like that, nothing else mattered, it was the two of you doing stupid things and laughing, compartmentalizing, being there for each other through tears and stitches if the mission was rough. In this case, it wasn't anything special, the mission that is, the time afterwards was heavenly. You came back from the mission exhausted, stumbling off the jet and up the stairs to your bedroom, collapsing on your soft sheets still dressed in your suit. Peter had stayed home from this mission in particular, there really wasn't any reason other than Tony's fear of Aunt May, who had said that if he kept Peter away from family dinner that she would have his head on a plate, and nothing scared Tony more than that.

There was a knock on your door, but you were too lazy to sit up, let anyone in, or really even form words.

"HNANGGG" You groaned loudly, rolling onto your side and turning away from the door, expecting for the person to go away but that wasn’t the case, the sound of your door swinging open made you roll back towards it. “What do you wa-Petey!” you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your cheeks at the sight of you soft looking boyfriend, he was wearing an oversized white shirt and his favorite worn down, nappy sweatpants, the ones that practically every teenage boy had, but he wore them best, at least in your opinion. You sat up excitedly, opening your arms to welcome your boyfriend into your hold but the movement pulled a groan from your lips as you strained your bruised ribs. Peter’s face soured at the sound, dropping to sit at your side, looking at you with worried eyes.

“Baby? Are you alright?” he asked, fingertips threatening to undo the zipper of your suit and expose your wound to him, even though nothing would be showing externally quite yet.

“Yeah, yeah, I am alright, baby” you chuckle, curling further into your side as your eyes dip down to where his fingers were about to tug down the toggle of your zipper, you look back at him incredulously “You trying to get me naked, buddy?” you tease, shouldering him slightly, your words made Peter flush, face going red as he retracted his hand.

“Wha-no, I-I um just, I know your suit isn’t very comfortable and I was thinking we could relax and cuddle and I um have a surprise for what we could do” tucking your chin back into your neck you look at him with furrowed brows.

“A surprise?” there was a sparkle in your eyes that Peter caught, loving how excited you were.

“Mhmm, but let's get you into your pajamas first, your suit smells terrible” You open your mouth in feigned offence, pushing him back at the shoulders and giggling childishly, an action that Peter joined in on as his fingers found your zipper, pulling it down and assisting you in peeling it off of your body, leaving you naked from a mere moment.

“You’re so pretty” Peter hummed softly, tracing fingers gently over you bare shoulders making you shiver, looking down to avoid his gaze, eyes catching on a bulge in his pants.

“Is that a rock in your pocket or are you just excited to get me naked?” you chuckle, jabbing a finger towards the bulge as he hands you one of his shirts that he kept in your room because he knows how much you like to wear his clothing.

“Oh, um, that's the surprise” Peter mumbles, looking down bashfully as you slip the shirt over your head, looking at him with a sly smirk once cotton was no longer obstructing your view.

“Petey, I know what your dick looks like, that is no surprise to me baby” you laugh only making him groan.

“It's not my dick, Y/n!” Peter voices as he falls back on your bed, pulling a bottle of nail polish from his pocket, and though you were intrigued by the item you still weren’t ready to move on, especially now that there was still a bulge in his sweatpants, even though he had removed the supposed culprit.

“Hmm, you have another bottle of nail polish in there or are you really just happy to see me?” you chuckle, reaching out and poking him in the thigh.

“Oh fuck off, Y/n! You were naked, it happens, can I paint your nails now?” Peter sounded exasperated, collapsing down onto the bed, cuddling into your side.

Turning to face him you let a chuckle escape your smiling mouth, poking him in the cheek and sighing as the skin squished beneath your touch, no matter what he was such a boy, he was your boy, even if he was grown, he was your boy. “Of course you can, Petey” the smile that took over his soft face was so pure, so kind it made you want to scream.

“Okay, sit up” Peter orders, snaking an arm underneath your waist and helping you up into a sitting position.

The scent of acetone filled your nose as you watched Peter carefully unscrew the bottle of polish. His hand was warm as it grasped yours, spreading your fingers across his palm and precisely flicking the bristles over your nail, leaving streaks of color perfectly in its wake.

“How did you learn to paint nails so well, Petey Baby”

“First off, you know how much that nickname effects me, it makes me feel all glowy and like I am butter and just melting and I am trying to keep a steady hand so if you could not, please” you can’t help but laugh at his antics, making sure your giggle doesn’t make your hands move and effect his painting abilities. “And secondly, May and I used to have spa nights and I would paint her nails and then whenever she would have a date I would paint her nails, so I guess May taught me” he explains, scraping off some of the excess paint that had seeped into your nail bed. “Ta dah! All done” Peter exclaims, tightening the top on the bottle and throwing it aside, flipping over your palms and placing soft kisses to your skin, looking up to find you with your eyes fluttering shut and mouth slightly parted in a soft sigh.

“Let's get you to bed, baby” Peter sighs, moving to exit your bed.

“Only if you stay with me” you growl, pressing your palm to his chest and pushing him down so you wouldn’t smear your newly painted nails.

“Of course baby, I will always stay with you.”

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #soft peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff

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biisexualemma · 3 years

Text

unrequited pt.2. peter parker

word count: 3.6k

warnings: anxiety, panic attack? i guess kind of

requested: yea a few people asked for this lol

plot: you haven’t seen peter for weeks and start to worry about him

a/n: i finished re-writing this late last night and i’ll be honest with you i haven’t checked it over so sorry if there are any mistakes but i’m tired sis goodnight! lmk if you like this! pls comment / share!

pt.1 / marvel masterlist / multi-fandom masterlist

"ned... you're so wrong for so many reasons," m.j.'s expression was flat, her eyes rolling before she continued to fight ned on who was really the strongest avenger. you were supposed to be working on a group project for your history class but somehow the topic of the avengers came up and the conversation derailed. ned was making a, somewhat, compelling case for the hulk but m.j. was clearly winning with her argument for wanda.

"nobody even knows the full extent of her powers... and the hulk? what? he's gonna smash some more?"

you sat quietly, chin in the palm of your hand, listening in and out of the conversation. you didn't really feel much like contributing. you would occasionally chime in to support m.j. but mostly you just heard the noise of their bickering and let it happen.

you didn't want to be that person, but your mind was (much to your frustration) completely consumed with thoughts of peter. and at the worst time, you had so many tests coming up, and essay deadlines were also creeping up on you. usually you were on top of this stuff, but your mind was preoccupied almost all the time.

because of peter, who was no where to be seen. in the past few weeks he had stopped showing up to school all together. ned said it was something to do with tony stark but you had a feeling it was more than that. you didn't know how to explain it.

you hadn't spoken to him in a long time now, and you didn't exactly leave things on good terms. it was the longest you'd gone without talking since peter called you a poopy head in the third grade.

you just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. especially since you had no idea what he was getting up to, peter was known to get himself into some messes when he was left to his own devices. and you just knew ned was lying to cover for his best friend but that only made you feel even more out of the loop.

everything felt a bit off without peter around, like something was missing. that, on top of the guilt and worry you were feeling, was turning your head to mush. last time you'd spoken to peter, he was erratic and wounded and desperate. something bad had to have happened for him to be gone this long.

the bell rang, signalling the end of your last period for the day, and the rest of the week seeing as it was a friday. you snapped out of your daze, jolting as your eyes focused back on your surroundings.

"what time did you say again, y/n?" your eyes drifted to m.j. who was collecting her notes on her desk, her eyes meetings yours, waiting for your answer. a crease formed between your eyebrows, you hadn't heard a word of the conversation before right now. m.j. seemed to realise this, rolling her eyes at you with a playful smile. you did this a lot lately, she was getting used to it. "homecoming? what time did you want to meet tonight?"

"oh," you nodded, still sitting at your desk as your classmates hustled around you. "right, homecoming— i— uh—"

"tell me you're still coming," ned interrupted, his eyes wide suddenly, clearly desperate that your answer was anything but no. "c'mon we've had this planned for ages!"

"no— yeah— of course i am," you nodded quickly to reassure him. "yeah— sorry— i just spaced. is seven good for you guys?"

they hummed in response, nodding.

you packed up your books, shoving them into your bag, still in a slight haze with all these thoughts running through your head about peter. you couldn't think about homecoming, it seemed trivial now compared to the worst case scenarios running through your mind. maybe you could try to call peter again? you thought to yourself as you quickly left the classroom, forgetting about m.j. and ned and homecoming, your muscle memory alone leading you to your locker.

you swapped out your books from your bag with the ones you needed to study from for your biology test next week. after slamming the locker door shut, a familiar face was met with yours.

"jesus," you muttered as he stood inches away from your face, your heart racing from the shock. clutching your books to your chest, after nearly having a heart attack, you let out a loud sigh and furrowed your eyebrows. "peter? where the hell have you been?" you regained some of your composure, enough to find some anger in you towards him. he was the last person you were expecting to see today.

"you're ok?" his usual soft brown eyes looked sunken and tired, his hair was scruffier than usual and his lips chapped as they hung open, his eyes scanning over you.

your mouth hung open to speak but he just shook his head as if answering his own question. he gripped your forearm, urging you to walk with him. you dug in your heels, yanking your arm back, wanting him to slow down and explain before you went anywhere with him. "will you just walk," he muttered sharply when you tried to resist him. "please," he softened quickly, his eyes meeting yours.

you frowned, uncomfortably shifting the stack of books in your arms as peter pulled you along behind him hastily. you watched his eyes shifting about the hallway as students weaved around the two of you, his grip not loosening for a second. he was definitely up to something stupid and dangerous that he absolutely should not be involved in.

he'd dragged you all the way out into the parking lot, pulling you aside and away from the crowd of people.

"what's going on? why do you look like— i mean no offence but— you look like crap," you couldn't help but show some level of concern. no matter how complicated your feelings were for him at the moment, he was still your best friend, and he looked like hell. you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him.

"i need you to just— stop talking and listen to me," the look in his eyes made your heart beat a bit faster, your eyes darting between his trying to understand his urgency. "you're not safe—"

"no— i'm fine—" you were never very good at doing what you were told. you glanced down at yourself, perfectly safe and standing in front of him. "see?—"

"no— no you're not," he gulped, his eyes darting away from yours for a split second. "i'm taking you home and you have to stay there. ok? please."

his voice was horse, cracking when he spoke. you didn't understand any of it. peter was the friendly neighbourhood spider-man, what the hell had he gotten himself into that had him this worked up?

you tilted your head slightly, he couldn't think you'd blindly do whatever he said. you needed some answers. "pete," you mumbled, shaking your head with a faint frown. "can't you just tell me what's going on? you're kinda' scaring me."

"i screwed up," his face contorted, his eyes screwing shut for a second and his nose scrunching. you were glued to him, following his mixed expressions trying to understand what was going through his head. he took a deep, shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. "and i know you— you hate me and the last thing you wanna' do is listen to me but i need you to do this for me."

"alright," you said after a moments hesitation. you just wanted him to relax. all your pent up anger and hurt that you'd felt over peter had dissipated quite quickly. you were too occupied with trying to ease some of his stress, and if that meant becoming a homebody for a few days, you would do it. "alright— don't worry. i've been putting off my english essay for a week now anyway, it's about time i cracked down on it."

you tried to ease the tension, act like he wasn't asking much of you. he let out a heavy sigh, looking over at you with those brown eyes. "it's homecoming tonight, i know w—"

"is it?" you feigned forgetfulness, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. you shrugged. "i was never one for socialising anyway."

peter knew you better than that. he knew what he was asking you to give up. "i'm sorry," he took a step closer to you, his hands hovering in front of you, unsure that you wanted him to touch you. "i'm sorry you got dragged into this."

your eyes lingered on his hands before you pulled back up to his stare. you pursed your lips and shrugged. "i'd feel better about it if i knew what i was getting dragged into," you pulled away from your conversation for a second to slip your books into your bag. "walk me home and you can explain everything."

and he did. he told you all about the vulture, the weapons, what really happened during the decathlon trip. all of it. right up to when the vulture figured out his identity— which lead to him finding out about aunt may, about his friends, and about you. he told you about how he'd spent the past few weeks figuring out where the vulture's next major deal was being held, how he'd messed up so bad and how mr stark had taken his suit.

by the time he'd finished, your mouth hung open slightly. you didn't know how he'd been dealing with all of this by himself. spider-man helped old ladies cross the street and returned stolen bicycles, he didn't fight men in bird costumes to stop illegal sales of dangerous advanced weapon tech.

"peter, this sounds pretty dangerous," you spoke up after he told you about his plan to intercept the vulture's airplane heist. "don't you think you should just call happy? or tony? this sounds like iron man territory."

"i can't do that," he sighed. "besides, i already tried happy— he's not taking my calls right now. something about a time out."

you let out a heavy sigh, having taken everything in that he'd told you. you had reached your door, peter standing behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. you motioned for him to come in but he hesitated, opening his mouth to decline. "c'mon," you grabbed his arm and tugged gently. "this heist isn't happening 'til late tonight. you can keep me company 'til then."

"maybe, get some rest, too, you really do look like hell," he let you pull him inside, following behind you. he ignored the second dig you had now made about his appearance.

"may must've been pretty mad when she found out you'd been skipping school?" you collapsed onto your bed, crossing your legs over and watching peter perch himself on the edge of your bed. he leaned forward, his hand running over his face with sheer exhaustion.

"you have no idea," he groaned, holding his head up with the palm of his hand now. "i'm pretty much grounded for the rest of the year. and i have to send her a pic' of me sitting in every one of my classes from now on," you nodded, pursing your lips because that sounded about right. "but mainly she was worried."

"well, she wasn't the only one," he glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes lingering there for a while. you breathed through your nose, looking away from him and down to your hands to give yourself a moment. you'd forgotten how difficult it was to have him look at you like that. "you just took off with no word, peter."

he turned his gaze away from you, focusing on the wall in front of him, his eyes glossy. for weeks that last conversation with you had been sitting at the back of his mind. he knew he'd handled everything in the worse possible way. he tried to protect you, hurt you by doing so, and then had everything he tried to protect you from blow up in his face anyway.

"i haven't been able to think clearly for weeks," you gulped, scared to meet his gaze again, in fear that you might lose your confidence. "i missed you. and i was worried out of my mind about you."

"y/n—" his voice was quiet.

"and i know i was the one who told you to leave. but i was hurt and sad. i'd convinced myself that you felt the same way, and when you—" you closed your eyes for a second, feeling him watching you. you hadn't been able to say any of this out loud for weeks and now it was just spilling out of you. "anyway— i shouldn't've punished you for that. they are my feelings i need to get over. it wasn't your fault and i'm sorry i made it seem like it was."

he shook his head faintly, sniffling slightly, catching your attention. "i screwed up," he shook his head a little harder, pushing himself up off your bed, his back turned to you. "i screwed up so bad," he ran his hand over his face, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. your eyebrows knitted. "it wasn't supposed to turn out like this."

"don't," you shook your head, willing him to stop. "it's not your fault. i shouldn't have—"

he cut you off, turning to face you as he did. "i'm in love with you," his mouth hung open slightly, his eyes now stinging red. "i was in love with you then, and i'm in love with you now. i think i always will be."

your eyebrows unknitted, your mouth opening to speak but nothing came out. you watched his hand tug on the ends of his curls, his eyes locked onto you the entire time, trying to read your expression.

"i was trying to protect you and it went completely wrong—" his breathing was erratic. "i thought you'd be safer if i distanced myself—" the look on his face was breaking your heart. he knew how stupid it all sounded now he explained it out loud. "i screwed everything up— and now you're in more danger than ever— because of me."

"you— you—" your brain was trying to keep up. you shook your head. you had spent the past month telling yourself that everything you thought he'd felt for you wasn't real, that you'd over thought everything he'd ever done for you. you'd been telling yourself for a month to move on. "you didn't screw up, pete. i know you. whatever you did, you did for the right reasons."

the lump in your throat was growing as you tried to keep some kind of composure. it wouldn't do either of you any good to get upset with him when he was worked up like this. he didn't need to be told he'd made a mistake, he was already painfully aware.

"you don't— you—but— i—" he was hyperventilating, completely vulnerable as he fell apart in front of you.

"pete," you mumbled carefully, climbing over to where he was stood, hand in his hair and he pulled on the loose curls, his eyes wide with anxiety and stress. you moved your hands to his, pulling them down to his side and giving them a small squeeze. "calm down," you cooed. "everything will be ok."

you trailed your hands up to his shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze before pulling him into a tight hug. you wrapped your arms 'round his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair. his head ducked, burying into your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist in a desperate grip. his breathing was heavy at first, uneven and jagged as he clung onto you. your heart was beating out of your chest, you were sure he could hear it, but you held onto him as tight as you could, pressing your whole body against his trying to offer him as much comfort as you could.

after a while of standing around, holding each other, peter's breathing began to grow softer and slower. he began to notice the sweet scent lingering on your skin. his lips innocently hovering over the curve of your neck, breath fanning against your skin. you could feel goosebumps growing on your skin, the hair of your arms standing on end.

"better?" you mumbled softly. he gave you a faint nod in response, his lips leaving your skin as he pulled himself back from you. your hand slipped from in between his curls and down to the neck, your thumb brushing over his skin as he looked straight into your eyes. you gulped, eyelids fluttering.

he was a state to behold. his nose was pink, under eyes wet, your eyes trailed down to where his lips parted. he hiccuped a breath. you tried to push away the impulse to kiss him because he was clearly vulnerable. you didn't want him to later regret anything. "thanks," he mumbled breathlessly. "i don't know what happened there."

you pouted your lips, about to reply when peters eyes fluttered down your face, catching you off guard. his eyes lingered and you noticed his head tilting down and nearer, his lips catching onto yours before you could register what was happening. it was soft, gentle and didn't last longer than a couple seconds before you had to force yourself to pull away.

"peter— you're overwhelmed right now so maybe we shouldn—"

your whispers against his lips where cut short, he pressed his lips to yours again. unable to resist now he'd had a taste. his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest. you swallowed a gasp, feeling his full weight behind the second kiss. his lips pushed against yours a little more desperately this time, you fell back a step, peter's arms where the only thing keeping you upright at this point.

both your hands where either side of his neck, trailing up into his hair where you pulled softly at the roots of his messy curls. he let out a soft moan against your lips, and you stumbled back once more, your thighs hitting your bed.

your hands quickly slipped down to his chest as you gently pried him off you. your head was spinning a little, his lips were plump and pink and the way he looked at you, with pure love and obsession, made you want to kiss him again and again.

"did you mean it?" you muttered breathlessly.

his eyes trailed back up from your lips, his gaze locking with yours again. he noticed the vulnerability and fear in your eyes now that he was paying you his full attention. he felt a wave of guilt hit him, knowing he was the one that put that look there.

"yeah," he hummed. "i did," he said with his chest. "i do. always will," he was breathless.

"you're not just saying it 'cause you've missed me?"

he shook his head quickly, shutting down any traces of doubt in your mind. "i have been in love with you since that summer we took that trip to coney island when you threw up after you ate too much cotton candy."

your scrunched up your nose at the memory. "gross."

he shrugged. "i don't know what to tell you. that's just when i knew."

your lips twitched into a small smile. "you should probably get some rest," you diverted the topic, trying hard not to kiss him again. he looked so tired. he had poured out months worth of anxiety and stress all in the past ten minutes. "you can't chase bad guys if you're half asleep."

he wore a half-hearted smile, his mind clearly flickering back to the task he had to take on later tonight.

"you can crash here if you want," you motioned to your bed.

"y'sure? i don't wanna get you in trouble."

"mom's working late, so you're good. plus she loves you, pete," your hands slipped down to his, giving them a quick squeeze of reassurance.

"sure she'll still love me when she finds out about us?" he quirked an eyebrow, the small smile on his lips was sloped and tired.

"m'sure," you hummed, biting back your growing smile at the word us. you moved him to sit on your bed again, his hands lazily holding yours. his eyelids fluttered as he looked up at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows again. you could tell his mind was wandering again. "lie down, you need to rest or you're no good to anyone."

he nodded hesitantly and followed your instruction. "i'll sleep better with you next to me."

his voice was soft after you'd turned your back on him to leave him to rest. you rolled your eyes faintly, smile tugging your lips again. "is that right?"

he hummed, his arms outstretched, waiting for you to fall into them. you dragged your feet back over to him, biting the inside of your cheek, the corner of your lip twitching upwards. "there's a scientific reason behind it but my brain's too sleepy to think right now, so you'll have to take my word for it."

his words slurred together, his eyes rolling slightly the longer he forced them open. you just nodded. "alright, spidey, just this once."

"hm," he hummed as you climbed in next to him, his arms wrapping around you and immediately pulling you against his chest. "thanks," he muttered, his lips pressed against the top of your head. "don't know what i'd do without you."

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lovely-jily · 3 years

Text

"well my legs are jello, so i'd have to disagree"

ok this definitely is no where close to my best writing, i originally wrote it when i was like 15 and i didn't want to start over so i did a shitty revision job. regardless, please enjoy this slightly shitty fic :)

"Alright, everyone. Let's take a shot to start us off," Sirius held up the bottle of firewhisky. It was another Friday night, and tonight the James and Lily got their friends together for a classic game of truth or dare. However, in their version, you take a shot of firewhisky for every dare, and for every truth, a person drinks a little bit of veritaserum, the truth potion. It was brewed by Remus and Sirius (who were quite brilliant if they actually applied themselves to their work), and the ingredients were stolen by none other than Mary and Marlene. James had offered to go with Lily to do it under the cloak, but Lily swore she would never go under that thing with him. Sirius managed to bewitch the potion so that it only lasted a couple minutes, just long enough to answer the truth.

It was the middle of their sixth year, and Lily and James had gotten to the point where they got along quite well, both stubborn and oblivious enough to refuse to think about the apparent tension and feelings between them. Lily was refusing to admit that she was attracted to the git, much less falling for him, and James didn't think that she would ever like him in that way. Regardless, everyone knew that they were bound to get together, and when they did, it would be a historically firey moment.

The group did as they were told, passing the bottle around the circle and taking small swigs. James tried to ignore how Lily's skin glowed in the firelight, and Lily tried to ignore how James's hands looked with the bottle in them.

"First off- James," Sirius faced the boy, who messed up his hair as per usual, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," James said dauntingly, leaning towards Sirius and smirking.

"Okay. Kiss Dorcus," Sirius said, handing James the bottle.

James took a swift swig, and Lily felt both his and Dorcus's nervous eyes on her. Set in her ways of defiance, Lily gave the subtlest of nods to Dorcus to give her permission and then tried her hardest to fight off the feelings of jealousy as James's hand reached Dorcus's cheek, kissing her softly. After a couple seconds, James pulled away and looked again at Lily, whose face seemed a little too red for someone who "wasn't interested in the slightest for a single date, you insufferable twat." Regardless, James smirked at the idea that Lily didn't seem to like him kissing other girls. Maybe his friends were a bit right after all...

"I've just about kissed everyone here now," James said pridefully. Of course, he was proud of something like that.

"Of course you have" Lily rolled her eyes, feeling the slight buzz of firewhisky.

"Yeah, we kissed one time," Sirius smirked as the boys laughed, "It was last year after a gaome. Best day of my life."

"And we accidentally kissed, so I don't think it even counts," Peter ran a hand through his blond hair.

"He came out of nowhere for ours. I was giving him an answer, and suddenly his lips were on mine," Remus shrugged, a soft smirk on his face.

"I got excited. We had been working on a figured out a terribly difficult problem in Arithmancy," James said, a happy smile on his face. James was many things: annoying, obnoxious, prideful, but one thing that Lily really admired about him was how much he loved all of his friends. He was insanely loyal and treated them like family. She knew he would die for them, and Lily couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be someone that James would die for.

"Yeah, I'm a super good kisser in case anyone was wondering," James joked as he looked at Lily, who failed miserably at hiding her blush.

"I think it's your turn to ask," Lily said, trying to fight the intense attraction she felt at that moment. As if it didn't keep her up at night and distracted during her classes...

"Alright. Truth or dare, Lily," James said, winking at her, "I can think of a few good dares."

"Looks like I'll have to pick truth then," Lily said, rolling her eyes.

"You're no fun," Mary elbowed her gently.

Everyone laughed, Lily included. She then sighed, grabbed the bottle of veritaserum and took a shot, the honey tasting liquid burning her throat slightly.

"Who's the most attractive one here?" James asked after she swallowed, Besides Pete, of course."

"Oh James, we all know I'm the prettiest here," said a very offended looking Sirius.

"James," Lily sputtered out uncontrollably and then immediately blushed.

Everyone had a physical reaction to what she said, whether it was Marlene's giggle, Sirius's gregarious laughter, or Mary's "Oh, shit!" Everyone was shocked at the sound of James's name coming from her mouth, including Lily herself. James was smirking, his suspicions slightly confirmed. While this didn't mean that she liked him, per se, it at least told that she enjoyed looking at him a little bit. That was a step in the right direction.

"Shit," she said, still blushing, "You're never gonna let me forget that I told you how hot you are."

This got a loud roar from everyone, and James smiled wide, "What can I say, Evans, I can't help it. You know it's quite difficult being this sexy all the time. Don't even get me started on everyone who just uses me for my insanely hot bod-"

"Shut up," she said, glaring at him, the veritaserum was beginning to wear off, but not before her following sentence, "Just because you are insanely attractive does not mean that I like you at all. You're still insanely difficult to be around."

"Well, you admitted you're attracted to me so I think we should give you veritaserum more often," James winked at her.

"Alright, let's keep this moving," Peter said, clearly as over this situation as Lily was.

Lily inhaled and then looked at Mary, "Truth or dare?"

"Hmm, I think we have far too much sexual tension in this room for me to be comfortable doing a dare, so," Mary smiled, "I pick truth for my own dignity."

"You're boring," Marlene snickered as everyone laughed.

"I'd rather be boring than have to snog any of these idiots."

"That's rude," Remus said, trying to hide his smirk as he and the rest of the boys tried their best to show their offence. The looks of pouting and hurt went right over Mary and Lily's head, though.

Lily and Mary giggled as she asked her if Mary had ever had a sex dream about anyone. Mary laughed, saying that she, Sirius, and Dorcus had a threesome in her dreams the other night. Sirius shuddered, saying that there were "too many boobs" involved.

After a few more rounds, Sirius was dared to snog Lily.

So that is how she ended up straddling Sirius on the couch, giggling like a maniac. She was feeling slightly tipsy, and something in her was excited at the idea of maybe making James a little jealous.

"Can I be honest with you?" Sirius whispered in her ear.

"Of course, Pads," She smiled. While Sirius was just as obnoxious as James was, she honestly enjoyed his company. She had gotten to know him as he usually hung out with Remus as they worked on Prefect paperwork. He had a sweet side that he rarely showed.

"Clearly, I don't even like women. I'm only doing this in hopes that you and James stop dancing around each other and just fuck or something," He smirked, still whispering.

Lily glanced over at James, who was biting his lips, scowling slightly. So he was jealous already, and they hadn't even kissed yet. Good to know.

"I doubt that this will work if that's what you're trying to achieve," She looked at him.

He shrugged, "Worth a shot. Besides, I have a theory that we're the best kissers here, so how about we find out?"

"Sounds great to me," She said as she leaned in, her lips softly to his. Sirius's hand found its way to her lower back, the other on her jaw. She felt his tongue tap her bottom lip, and she copied his motion, her hands entangled in his hair.

His hands traced down her spine and on her waist as she pulled him closer. He kissed down her jaw and neck, and she caught a glimpse of James halfway across the room, frowning and looking at his hands. While Lily was kissing Sirius, all she could think about was his best friend. About how it would feel to run her hands through his hair and down his back. How his stubble would feel against her skin. She imagined his hands on her body-

This was ridiculous. Lily forced herself to focus on what was happening currently instead of daydreaming about that idiot.

Sirius's lips returned to her's, and she felt his grip tighten as the kiss turned more passionate. He moved his hand down her waist and to her bare thigh, touching and squeezing as he went. She moved her hands from his hair to his ears and jaw, feeling as they rhythmically moved together, tongues slightly teasing here and there. He kept one hand on her thigh and then moved the other from her waist to her butt, squeezing softly and then back up to her thigh, causing a laugh from both of them.

"Did you like that?" Lily asked, smirking.

"You got quite the ass, Evans," Sirius giggled.

They walked back to the circle, both still laughing. James wouldn't meet her eye, as the fire next to him was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

"I was too sober for that," Lily smiled and took another swig of the drink.

"Agreed," Sirius said as she handed him the bottle and took a drink. As he exhaled, he turned to James, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he said, looking a little annoyed still. While he didn't like what Sirius did, he knew that it was an attempt to get him to act on his feelings with Lily.

"Take off Lily's shirt," Sirius said, smirking before adding, "But do it as seductively as you can."

The group giggled and gasped while Lily's whole body heated up, "why am I getting brought into all of these?"

"You can say no," Dorcus took another shot of firewhisky.

"Well, I didn't say that I didn't want to," Lily mumbled slightly and stood up. She watched James take another shot and then walk over to her, swallowing to try to hide his nervousness.

"How about this," he grabbed her biceps and guided her to the corner of the room. Her back hit the wall, and their faces were close, less than an inch apart, and the smell of firewhisky and cologne filled Lily's nostrils. Feeling his hot breath on her lips made her feel things she both wanted and didn't want at the same time. Lily focused her eyes on the table in front of her. This was where she usually sat to do her homework or Prefect paperwork.

"This place seems familiar, doesn't it?" James whispered as his cold hands traced her biceps, making her hot skin even hotter. Although he was doing well covering it, his hands were shaking slightly. The only thing separating skin on skin contact was a small, thin layer of Lily's shirt sleeve, rolled to the elbows like James's.

Lily looked up at the ceiling. He was too much of a temptation, and looking at him, particularly his lips, would make her want for him grow exponentially, and it was already hard enough to fight her feelings off without inhaling his cologne and breath.

"This is where I do my Prefect paperwork with Remus."

"Right. And here's my plan," James said, still whispering as he moved his mouth to her ear, causing chills to cascade down her body, "From now on, every time you sit down to do your work, you'll look at the exact spot that I made you want me."

Lily swallowed as she moved her head straight forward, inhaling as his hands moved to her waist and hooked in the belt loops of her skirt, "How do you know that I'd want you? Or that this memory could possibly hinder my focus on my work?" she asked.

"Because now, every time you sit down to work here, you'll start to think of me instead," he rubbed his nose behind her ear as he slowly untucked her shirt, "and I think it's my turn to act as a distraction now."

Her breath hitched as he moved his hands onto her bare waist. They were calloused and traced their way from her stomach to her lower back repeatedly.

"Also," he added, inhaling and bringing his face in front of hers again, his voice dropping its seductive tone, "I'm sorry."

"S-sorry?" Lily sputtered. It was harder and harder to remember how to breathe normally, how to think. She knew he was right, partly. Lately, whenever she looked at him, she was starting to realize how he had matured. How much he cared about people and how much she admired him. She hated change, and perhaps that's why she hated how she felt about him. He was already enough of a distraction, and so this moment was only going to make it worse.

He brought his hands out from under her shirt to her hips. She was fighting to not reflect how she was feeling inside, fighting to keep herself from closing her eyes and biting her lip, to release under his grasp or run her hands over his body. She was fighting the instinct to release her head back and exhale harshly.

"I don't want you to feel objectified. I would rather do something like this at a time where we both wanted it," James said, moving his head to the crook of her shoulder and then to her ear again, "when it's not really forced."

"Well," Lily bit her lip. She was caving. James knew how to tease a girl, "Who says I don't want this?"

She didn't have much time to wonder if that was a good or bad decision to say what she just said. She felt James stop breathing on her ear before the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered, "I knew it."

He softly nibbled her ear, moving a hand up to her hair, moving it out of the way as he started planting small butterfly kisses down her neck. She tightly gripped her skirt, forcing her hands to stay stuck to her side.

"Evans," his kisses turned longer, more passionate, and his hand was on her neck, gripping her hair and the other on her waist. She closed her eyes, fought to breathe and then bit her mouth shut, "You're a bit tense."

"O-oh?" She stuttered as his hand moved from her hair to her jaw.

He nibbled the skin at the bottom of her neck, near the front of her shirt.

"And we haven't even gotten close to what the dare was actually about."

She had forgotten entirely about the dare. She also had forgotten there was a small group across the room; it felt like they were the only two people left in the world. She often felt that way with James.

Her hands were clinging to her skirt for dear life, knowing that if they were released for a second, they would be tangled in his brown curls.

"Well, this is just-" She inhaled every few words, "This is just basic- basic human instinct."

James moved his hand from her hip to her bare waist again, squeezing softly and making her fists clench tighter, "Oh, for sure. nothing else."

She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as he moved his mouth to the top button, undoing it with his teeth and then kissing her chest. He rubbed his nose up her neck as she felt his hot breath breathe against her ear.

"Fuck it," she said, releasing her skirt and bringing her hands to his muscular shoulders, feeling one of the many benefits that quidditch brought James. She really didn't stand a chance resisting him in the first place and honestly felt proud that she had pushed through for that long.

"Hh, hey," he whispered and nibbled her ear again, making her shudder in his grasp. He snaked his hand from her waist over the top of her shirt and undid the second button, "I think we should play this more often."

"I'm sure you do," Lily ran a hand to his messy hair, grabbing a fist full and then released after a second. Her fingers played with his curls while the other moved to his broad back.

He kissed down her neck again, softly nibbling here and there as he made his way to the third button. As his arms moved to her shoulders, he again undid the button with his teeth, "I also haven't done this before, so I hope you know that I'm feeling pretty proud of myself."

"You're pretty talkative," Lily replied. The third button was undone, and he kissed the top of her cleavage, making her instinctively grip his shirt and hair.

"And you're pretty hot," he brought his face close to hers, and they looked at each other. They were both sticky with sweat and had pink faces that showed how quite excited they were. Lily's lip was in between her teeth, and she brought her hand out of his hair and to his neck.

"You're a bit tense, Potter," she joked as she felt his arm muscles, feeling how nervous he actually was, although she found it quite cute.

"Well, my legs are jello, so I would have to say that I disagree," James said, smiling. He brought his face back to behind her ear. His hands found their way to her neck and thigh, softly massaging each.

Lily chuckled as he ducked down, kissing her chest and undoing another button, but instead of bringing his mouth to her skin, which was more cleavage, he moved on to the next, crouching down slightly. She brought her hands to his hair, both of them getting tangled in his messy brown mop. She figured that since her bra was beginning to be exposed, he wanted to stay as respectful as possible. Her stomach felt a flutter at that thought. He respected her enough to not use her for her body... While that shouldn't be such the big deal that it was, she still smiled at it.

He moved his way down, undoing every button as he went. As he reached the bottom, he brought both of his hands to her waist, making her breath hitch as his cold skin touched her sticky skin. He planted a small kiss just above her belly button, then slowly straightened up, eyes closed as his nose and forehead never broke contact with her skin.

When his face was close to hers, she moved her hands from his hair to his neck. His lips were parted slightly, and her lips tingled as his hot breath hit them.

"Lily," he breathed softly.

Her breath hitched, and her stomach twisted when he said her name. This was a normal reaction when he called her by her first name anyway, as it was more sincere; however, when he said her name like that...

"Y-Yes?" she responded, closing her eyes. Her fingers softly played with his hair.

"You are so beautiful."

The moment those words breathed onto Lily's lips, it felt like everything stopped. Time, her intense heartbeat, her breathing. The only thing she could do was smile softly and put one of her hands on his cheek. His hands felt up her bare skin, over her bra and chest before going over her shoulders, sliding under her shirt. Finally sliding her shirt off her shoulders and arms and onto the floor.

She moved her head into the crease of his neck, not surprised at her feeling of disappointment, "I guess we need to return to everyone else now."

"Oh yeah," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "I completely forgot about them."

#jily #jily fic #james potter and lily evans #maruaders #maruaders fic #wolfstar #james x lily #lily x james #harry potter #jily tension #i love you all #jily fan fiction #marauders fanfiction #jily fanfiction

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sirius · 3 years

Text

Dare or Dare (Prompt)

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, mentioned Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 2256

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, mentions of sex i guess?

Request: Could you do 13 and 15 of random with James or Sirius maybe? :) - Anonymous

Prompt: 13. “YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” 15. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

A/N: First prompt finally finished!! please send in more! the list is pinned to my blog. Enjoy <3

***

It may have been cliche, but it was a common tradition for you and your friends to steal food from the kitchens, get drunk and play stupid muggle games late at night in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire crackled and popped, emitting shards of amber light that jarred with the dark shadows, creating a golden-warm atmosphere that encompassed you and your friends. You sat crossed-legged on the ground between Mary and Marlene Marlene while the boys - James, Sirius, Remus and Peter - sat opposite you, forming a circle that sort of resembled a seance. Littered in the centre of your ‘Friendship Circle’ (coined affectionately by James) was your plunder; a variety of puddings and treats and left-over sweets from a recent Hogsmeade trip.

Soon enough, two bottles of firewhiskey were brandished and passed around the group, and everyone was taking long sips from the bottle - everyone except for you.

“Boo,” Sirius jeered, “You’re boring.”

“Well excuse me if I don’t want liver failure,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “Besides, six people sharing from the same bottle? That’s unsanitary.”

“What? You worried you’ll catch boy cooties,” Sirius teased, “Because last time I checked, you didn’t mind boy cooties when I saw you making out with Prongs in the broom closet last week. And trust me, none of that was exactly ‘sanitary’.”

You felt your face glow with embarrassment as laughter bubbled over the group. You glanced at James, at the little curl of his lips that wasn’t quite as mischievous as a smirk, but not as open and carefree as a smile. It was somewhere in between...like he wasn’t embarrassed of kissing you, of even being lumped in the same sentence as you. It made your heart swell, your cheeks no longer warm from embarrassment.

“Why don’t we stop harassing (Y/N) and Potter and get on with some games!” Marlene urged, gracefully saving you from Sirius.

“Yes!” Peter agreed, “I managed to find a load of fun muggle games in this book!”

He pulled out a book from his bag and brandished it before you friends.

“101 Party Games to Play at your Bachelorette Party,” Remus read aloud, frowning, “Some how, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I do!” Mary said eagerly, leaning forward to get a good look at the book.

“Whats a Bachelorette Party?” asked Marlene, brows knitted in confusion.

“It’s a party where a bride and her bridal party celebrate her last night as a ‘single’ woman,” Mary explained excitedly, “My mums been to loads. She always comes back with weird penis shaped memorabilia.”

“Well, what’s the hold up, Wormtail?” James asked, grinning broadly, “Let’s crack it open!”

Peter dropped the book in the middle of the circle and sat back as Sirius opened the first page. A devilish grin spread slowly across his face as he read the index.

“This is brilliant!” Sirius laughed, flicking the page, “’Stick it in the Hole’ a game inspired by all those sex ed classes you pretended to listen to in High School. Two people are required, much like the real thing.”

“Muggles are insane…” Marlene decided.

“Dunk the Weenie in the Creampie,” Sirius continued, “The only time when it is encouraged to be bad at cooking. Simply tie a sausage to your waist with a short rope and try to dunk the sausage in the centre of a cream pie. Beware, this game is messy.”

“Yeah, I’m not playing that,” said Remus, disapprovingly, “I’m not sure what’s worse; having to embarrass myself by grinding on a cream pie in front of my friends or watching you lot do it.”

“Agreed,” said Peter, who was blushing furiously.

“What about this?” Sirius perked up, reading intently, “Bridal Truth or Dare. A sexy twist on a classic game. Players must reveal deep truths or suffer through scandalous dares. The more debauchery, the better!’”

“I’m down for a game of truth or dare,” Mary piped up excitedly.

“Same!” Marlene chimed.

“Me too!” said Peter.

“I have no shame and I don’t believe in regrets so I’ll play,” said James, winking at you.

“Oh what the hell,” Remus shrugged, sighing, “So long as the fire whiskey’s still flowing.”

“What do you take us for, amateurs?” Sirius gasped, his tone oozing with mock-offence.

Everyone turned to look at you. An unpleasant burning sensation prickled beneath your cheeks.

“Alright,” you sighed, grabbing a sugar quill, “I’ll play.”

Marlene and Mary giggled excitedly as Sirius dropped the book in his lap and skimmed the first page.

“Right,” he said, importantly, “If someone asks for truth, they have to answer or risk being forced to do a dare from the list of Extreme Dares.”

“I like the sound of that,” said James, craning to peer at the list.

“I don’t,” you muttered, glancing at Remus.

You knew beyond a doubt that you’d be asked about you and James’ complicated history by one of your friends and, if you refused to answer, would probably have to do something embarrassing with him like let him fondle your breasts or something stupid like that.

“Alright, so the eldest starts,” said Sirius and he grinned, “Which is me so suck it losers.”

Everyone groaned. Having Sirius start a game of Bridal Truth or Dare was going to be excruciating to say the least.

Sirius feigned a deep look of hurt, clutching his chest in pain, “I had no idea you guys thought so highly of me!”

“Hurry up, Padfoot,” Remus grumbled, taking a swing of fire whiskey, “Lets just rip it off like a band aid.”

Sirius’ lips spread into a wicked, calculating smirk. You knew that look all too well; it was the look of someone who was either barking mad or insanely clever forming a devious master plan.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he pretended to think for one attractive moment before narrowing his eyes on you.

“(Y/N), Bridal Truth or Dare? Quickly now, or we’ll all sober up and lose our nerve.”

You thought that was quite impossible for two reasons: one, everyone except you had had enough fire whiskey to drown their veins in alcohol and, two, Gryffindors never lost their nerve.

You sighed long sufferingly, “Alright, truth.”

“Bridal truth,” Sirius corrected and then furrowed his brows in thought. His eyes sparked again with a look of wild excitement, “Have you and Prongs ever reached third base?”

Marlene and Mary stifled their giggles. James shot you an apologetic look, grimacing at Sirius.

Something about the challenging look in Sirius’ eye rankled you, grating obnoxiously on your competitive streak. Usually, you were more rational, more ‘pick-your-battles-carefully’, but now, Sirius was closing in on your relationship-not-relationship with James, something you considered deeply personal. If Sirius wanted to play this game, then he’d better be prepared to lose.

“Padfoot,” James began, glancing at you, “I think that’s-“

“No,” you answered, defiantly, “James and I have not reached third base, and that’s only because we kept getting interrupted by you.”

There was a stunned sort of silence at the tone of your voice. Everyone was used to you denying your relationship-not-relationship with James, so your candor was like a splash of cold water in the middle of winter.

You broke the silence by snatching the bottle from Sirius’ grasp, “I’m too sober for this shit.”

“You don’t even drink,” said Marlene in shock.

You uncorked the bottle, “Maybe I should start.”

Tipping your head back, you took a long drag of the fire whiskey and winced as it seared the back of your throat. A moment later, a tickling warmth kindled in your stomach, and what felt like gold shot through your veins, filling you up.

Everyone was staring at you, shocked and speechless. You - Gryffindor prefect, one of the top performing students in the school, rule abider and teachers pet - were breaking a dozen school rules by drinking fire whiskey and admitting quite blatantly that you and James would have had sex if it weren’t for Sirius.

Their shocked expressions made you smirk.

“Are you lot going to keep staring at me or are we going to play?”

***

An hour into the game, and your brain was swimming in pools of intoxicated bliss. It was like peering through rose-tinted glasses - everything was hilariously funny, and your courage and impulsivity had been dialled up by about a hundred while your common sense had abandoned you.

Everyone had participated in an array of embarrassing truths and even more embarrassing dares. Peter had asked you what it was like to kiss Sirius (you and Sirius had a few…flings…in the past, before you had realised your feelings for James).

“Be honest now,” Sirius winked at you, “You don’t have to lie because ol’ Padfoot is here.”

James looked slightly amused, but there was a glint of something dark, something wild in the mosaic of his eyes.

You took your time, formulating a response.

“Eh, he’s alright” you shrugged, nonchalantly, “I’ve had better. A little overrated, if you ask me.”

That had been a mistake. Without warning, Sirius had launched into a wild tickle attack, scrambling toward you and poking his fingers between your ribs. Laughter erupted from your lips as you keeled backward, lying flat on your back as Sirius clambered on top of you.

“YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP TICKLING ME!” you shrieked, laughing hysterically, “SIRIUS! GEROFF”

James was the first to pull Sirius off you, smacking him around the head.

“Ouch!” Sirius yelped, but he smiled at James’ playful expression.

The hours ebbed away.

Soon, everyone was getting bored with Bridal truth or dare and instead decided to play Dare or Dare. You, Marlene and Mary had been dared to race each other stripping your bras off without taking your tops off. While you had done it a million times before, it had been significantly more difficult to do while drunk.

Remus had been dared to sneak into Filch’s office and leave him a love note and James and Sirius had been dared to kiss - which they did, passionately and unabashed.

“Alright,” James had smirked as he stared at you, “(Y/N). Dare or Dare?”

You pretended to consider your options, “Hmm…Dare!”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” James grinned, dodgy and lopsided, “Alright, I dare you to sprint past Dumbledore’s office, topless.”

You grinned, climbing to your feet, “I’ll do you one better.”

Slowly, while maintaining eye contact with James, you stripped into your underwear. James’ expression cycled rapidly between awe and arousal, and you couldn’t help noticing the way he squirmed, trying to casually cover his lap with a pillow.

Marlene let out a low whistle, startling you. You had forgotten about the others.

Grabbing your cloak, your friends all made your way to Dumbledore’s office, dodging out of Filch’s sight and weaving around Peeves, who was throwing furniture around in Filch’s office.

It was only after you watched Nearly Headless Nick sweep past Dumbledores office when you unclasped your robe and let it pool around your feet. Moonlight soaking into your skin, you stepped into the empty corridor and took a deep breath. The air was cool, prickling your skin with goosebumps. Your cheeks, however, felt hot and flushed from the alcohol and adrenaline.

“Go!” urged Sirius and, without hesitating, you ran.

Arms flailing in the air, you sprinted past Dumbledore’s office while your friends giggled madly. Once you reached the corridor, you turned around and raced back but came to a sudden halt when a figure stepped around the corner.

Severus Snape was standing at the end of the corridor, a look of shock and embarrassment creeping into his thin, pallid face.

You immediately took a step back. Severus had become your friend after meeting him in Diagon Alley before your first year at Hogwarts. You’d stopped associating with him after he had started associating with Death Eaters and you had noticed a definite change in his attitude toward muggleborns.

“(Y/N),” he said, softly, as he drank in the view of you, your skin glowing in the moonlight, “W-What-?”

James and Sirius stepped forward protectively and Remus draped your cloak around your shoulders, forcing you behind him.

“What do you want, Snivellus?” James spat, “Looking for another kitten to drown for Lord Stinkamort, are you?”

Severus’ expression contorted into a look of fury. He grabbed for his wand when you stepped forward, lacing your fingers with James’.

“He’s not worth it,” you whispered, and with another urgent tug, you pulled James away, Sirius following.

Perhaps because you were there, neither James nor Severus attacked one another as you retreated to the Gryffindor common room. James was grasping your hand tightly, still enraged by Severus’ presence, but that changed when you pulled him around a corner and kissed him deeply.

“What was that for?” James asked in surprise.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” you asked, playfully, “Oh, alright then…” you started to saunter off but James pulled you back into his arms and crashed his lips onto yours, stealing the breath from your lungs and the words from your tongue.

Panting as he pulled away, James looked around and spotted something to your left. You followed his gaze, where it landed on the Prefect Bathrooms.

“Fancy a dip?” he asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Definitely,” you smirked, tugging on his belt, “And this time, we won’t be interrupted.”

***

@siriusmuch @beyoncesdragon @moon-zodiac @mflufflion

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fleursowl · 3 years

Text

James & Sirius friendship drabble

this is for @gaeilgelupin because it’s her BIRTHDAY GO WISH HAN A HAPPY BIRTHDAY RN!! han i love u millions u r the james to my sirius <3

never saw one without the other, did you? you’d have thought they were brothers

it was the fourth week into the summer holidays, and James had yet to hear from Sirius

now, if you asked James, he would say he was a pretty relaxed person. prone to fits of excitement, sure, but all in all? a calm, cool, collected guy. (not everyone agreed with this)

however, his calmness had a breaking point. and that breaking point was neither him, nor remus or pete, having heard even a whisper from sirius all summer- even their two-way mirrors had been silent since sirius had arrived at grimmauld place

neither remus nor peter had heard from him either, which was particularly bugging james as no matter how bad sirius’ summers had been previously, sirius always managed to write to remus at least once

after not being able to stand james’ constant fretting any longer, euphemia had invited remus to stay midway through the summer, hoping the mild-mannered boy would be a calming influence on him

this did not have the desired effect however, as james now had a person to bounce his fretting off, and after a week into remus’ stay euphemia was beginning to feel like pulling her hair out

however, this all rose to a climax one warm august evening, where euphemia and fleamont had stayed up late playing gobstones in the living room with james and remus in an attempt to distract them from their worries

james was in the middle of doing a victory lap around the room, crowing his victory, when two bodies stumbled out of the fireplace in a pile of soot and ash and- what was that smell?

all members of the potter house jumped back in surprise, wands drawn and at the ready, only to find it was regulus clutching what looked like sirius’ body to his chest, his eyes wide and imploring

“i can’t stay, i have to go back. you have to help him- don’t ever let him come back.” he urged, depositing sirius’ body onto the carpet, and with that, he turned back and stepped into the fireplace, shouting “grimmauld place!” before disappearing in roar of flames

the firelight gave effie a chance to momentarily glimpse sirius’ face and she let out a noise james had never heard from her before, falling to her knees beside sirius on the carpet and pulling his head to rest in her lap

“fleamont, please contact dumbledore immediately. james, go get my emergency aid kit.” she commanded, her voice shaking but firm as she waved her wand over sirius’ body, her eyes intent on his twitching body

james and remus stared at sirius, lifeless in effie’s arms, and a sob escaped remus’ throat, a hand clasping over his mouth as he collapsed next to effie, desperate hands frantically trying to find something to do to help

in the meantime, james had run to get the emergency kit and passed it to his mother with shaking hands, watching her heal scar after vicious scar on sirius’ body, tapping her wand against his chest and nearly sobbing in relief when breath rushed back to sirius’ body, causing him to wake up in a rush, immediately sitting up and letting out a cry of pain, his head landing again in effie’s lap

“where’s… regulus?” he croaked out, reaching out a hand as though he thought regulus would take it. instead james stepped over, grasping sirius’ hand in his like it was a lifeline

“he’s gone back, sirius. are you…” words choked james’ throat as he surveyed the broken body of his best friend, his brother, and he turned to remus in the hope that he would be able to say something, but remus was already clutching sirius’ hand, tears pouring down his cheeks and clearly beyond speaking

after a few more minutes of tense silence, the only noise being sirius’ occasional groan or whimper of pain, james finally forced the emotions back out of his throat and managed to articulate again. “is he going to- is he going to be alright?” he stammered to his mother, and she paused momentarily in her healing of sirius to run a soothing hand through his hair

“he’s going to be just fine, he’ll just need a while to recover. is the spare bedroom tidy?” effie reassured, and james closed his eyes and thanked whoever was listening that he’d been blessed with her as a mother. “it’s tidy, but i’d rather stay with him. can’t he stay in my room with me and remus?”

euphemia potter looked up from her healing of sirius into the wide, watery eyes of her son and his best friend, and knew there would be no arguing with them. sirius would be staying in james’ room.

sirius woke up sharply the next morning in james’ bed, gasping for breath and looking around wildly. after clearly not recognising where he was, he started thrashing and crying out again, waking up james who was curled up next to him

“hey… hey, sirius, it’s me, prongs, i’m here mate, you’re at my house” james did his best to soothe the terrified boy, nervous hands flying all over his body before deciding his shoulders were the best place to rest them

“i’m at your house?” sirius whispered, wide eyes looking like they couldn’t quite believe it when james nodded back at him. “at my house. you’re safe, sirius.” “safe.” sirius repeated back to him, his hands trembling and curling over james’ chuddley cannons duvet

“safe, padfoot.” james promised, lying back next to sirius and putting a tentative arm over his bandaged chest so that even in his sleep, sirius would know he was with people who loved him

over the next few days sirius gradually grew back into himself, the worst day being when dumbledore visited and sirius was forced with trembling hands to recount the events of his last night at grimmauld place to a room of euphemia, fleamont, dumbledore, james and remus. after dumbledore had asked a few follow up questions and promised he would sort things out sirius had collapsed into remus’ waiting arms, allowing the boy to lead him back to james’ bedroom where the three boys stayed for hours, just sitting quietly in each other’s company on james’ bed

a week later the worst of sirius’ wounds had healed and he accompanied fleamont on a trip to london, which he returned from laden with bags and grinning ear to ear.

“i can stay! forever!” he crowed as soon as he got back, throwing himself at james and nearly tackling him to the ground. james couldn’t believe his luck- not only was his best friend out of the worst place he’d ever heard of, but he was moving in with him!

the three marauders immediately ran to the potters’ spare room which had been given happily to sirius. however, the thing that shocked sirius the most was that he was allowed to decorate it however he wanted- hence the trip to london with fleamont

“merlin pads, how many bloody bowie posters do you need?” james grumbled from where he was stood on top of a chest of drawers, getting his fingers tangled in spellotape as he attempted to stick up his fifth david bowie poster as of yet, snorting at sirius who was busy not helping and instead had chosen to twirl around the room to the music blasting out of his brand new record player

“oh i don’t know, i think he has more of freddie mercury.” remus grinned, ignoring sirius’ indignant protests and tugging him in by the waist to press a kiss to his hair.

sirius’ offence was of course, a pretence, as when he stood in his room in the arms of his moony watching james wobble off the chest of drawers with a yelp, crashing onto his bed, a warm feeling spread from his chest to the rest of his body, a warm feeling that he felt whenever he looked at james. james, his best friend. james, his partner in crime. james, his fellow marauder.

james, his brother.

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plant-flwrs · 3 years

Note

Hiii, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a remus lupin imagine. Were its mutual pinnin but they dont know the other like them. And sirus gets tired of it and takes pollyjuice to look like remus and get you to confess🥺

under the mistletoe // remus lupin

masterlist!

a/n: oh my god i’ve been non-stop reading atyd and it is my new obsession. it’s completely canon to me now. ty for ur request! i used they/them pronouns because you didn’t specify, so i hope that’s alright <3 oh! also! im gonna try this new thing w my fics to see if they flow better that way; instead of just jumping in time i’ll put a little indicator (-). wanted to try it out, dunno if i’ll keep using it. i’m so excited for christmas and this put me in an even more christmasy mood omg

summary: Staying at Hogwarts for the holidays seemed like the best way to avoid distractions, but with the Marauders there, distractions were guaranteed. Especially when your crush on Remus proves to be incredibly distracting.

cw: underage drinking (hangover vomiting), swearing (harmless, classic Sirius things)

(8k) (haven’t written this much in so long wow i forgot i could)

----------

The Gryffindor common room was your most favorite place in Hogwarts. It was warm and comforting, and you had some of your best memories there. With just a glance around the room you could feel your entire school career in just one room.

Though, now that you were in your sixth year, it wasn’t the leisurely place it used to be.

All around you, books touched any bare surface there was. N.E.W.T.’s were sooner than you’d like, sooner than anyone liked, and you were filled with anxiety. You knew your strenuous studying was a bit soon, but you felt like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You felt so stressed, in fact, that not even Lily Evans could convince you to go home for the holidays that Christmas.

“Exams are months away, Y/n!” she sighed as you fell down onto the couch beside her, narrowly returning before curfew from the library, “You ought to enjoy Christmas.”

“I will enjoy it. Here,” you said, rolling your head back and closing your eyes.

You felt sore, as if you had run a marathon, but you had been locked away in the library all day.

Part of you, the smallest part, blamed Remus Lupin for this newfound obsession. Your fellow Gryffindor, the most studious boy in your year, was the initial reason for your new studying habits. You had started going to the library in an attempt to steal glances at him, an innocent crush that you most definitely let overcome you.

Remus had always gone to the library, you knew that, but ever since your O.W.L.’s he seemed to take extra pride in his work. You couldn’t blame him for secluding himself in the library, for that was the only place on campus that it seemed his rowdy friends did not go.

“You can’t enjoy Christmas alone,” Lily tutted, pulling the massive textbook off your lap and putting it on the table in front of you.

“You’re staying for the holidays, too?”

Sirius had just bounded down the stairs from the boys dormitories, his usual mischievous smirk on his face.

“Yes, they are,” Lily answered for you, turning to look at Sirius as he hovered behind you near the stairs.

“Well, that’s lucky,” he said, acting as if he had a secret he took pride in no one else knowing.

“Why is that, Sirius?” Lily sighed, becoming annoyed.

“Remus, James, Peter, and I are staying, too,” he said, smirk turning into a boyish smile.

“You are?” you opened your eyes and turned to face him, finally.

He met your gaze and nodded excitedly, seeming to already have the Christmas spirit in him.

“So you won’t be alone!” Lily said excitedly, then turned towards Sirius with a more dull tone, “Not the best company, but at least not alone.”

Sirius scoffed in mock offence, scrunching his face up with imaginary tears as he stomped back up the stairs.

“God, that lot is so bizarre,” she groaned, turning back to you on the couch to see you dozing off.

(-)

Snow fell on the grounds of Hogwarts, and you gazed at it from a fogged up window in the library.

Lily had gone, Mary had gone, Marlene had gone, just about everyone had gone. You had never stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays before, and you knew not many people did, but you expected more than there were.

No Slytherins had stayed, which was a welcomed absence from those who did. You knew the two Hufflepuffs that remained, but only because you had classes with them in your fourth year. The Ravenclaws that stayed, there couldn’t have been more than five of them, were often holed up the in the library with you. There were the most Gryffindors, five, including you and the marauders.

You were almost surprised that James had gone through with staying; Remus had mentioned wonderful things about the Potters and the Christmases they hosted. Still, he was here, cheerful as ever.

As your eyes blurred with tiredness and the window became nearly too fogged to see through, you sighed in frustration.

You missed your family, you missed home, and you really regretted staying at school. You decided to give yourself the day off from studying. With a glance down at your watch, you saw it was nearly lunch time anyways. You had slept in and missed breakfast, coming straight to the library, and your stomach felt empty.

You made your way to the common room, wanting to drop off the heavy books you had accumulated. Mumbling the password to the portrait, you stumbled through without noticing the rowdy conversation coming towards you.

You ran right into James’ chest, stumbling back and already mumbling an apology.

“Y/n?” he asked happily, as if he had been looking for you.

“Hey, guys,” you sighed, forcing a polite smile when all you really wanted to do was collapse on the couch and sleep for days.

“Sirius told us you were staying, but I’d thought you’d changed your mind. Haven’t seen you since the holiday started!” James’s booming and joyful voice made you want to cringe away, but you couldn’t manage anything less than a small smile at his kindness.

“I’ve been in the library,” you explained, chuckling at the horrified look on three of the four faces.

“You’re worse than I’d thought,” Sirius started, cut off by a sharp elbow to the ribcage by Remus, which only seemed to encourage him.

“We can’t have that,” James finished for him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Oi,” Remus started, casting a sympathetic smile at you as he tried to stop his friends from potentially insulting you.

“Why don’t you come have lunch with us?” Peter squeaked from behind James as he glanced at the two dark-headed boys for some sort of approval, “We were just on our way down.”

“What a great idea, Wormtail!” Sirius boomed, earning himself another elbow to the side from Remus.

You glanced nervously at the boys in front of you, trying to discern if they were setting you up for a joke or teasing you.

“You don’t have to-” Remus blurted out, his cheeks pink, “-I mean, if you’re busy with your studies. I know how hard your working-”

“Nonsense, Moony!” James smiled, levitating your bag off your shoulder and easily landing it on the floor somewhere behind him, “they have to eat!”

You chuckled, ducking your head down as James slung his arm around your shoulder and escorted you back through the portrait hole.

You felt lighter immediately. Whether it was the absence of your heavy bag, or the way the boys’ easy conversation and laughter felt so inviting and warm, you did not know.

The self-pity you had been feeling only a moment ago seemed to go, too. James kept his brotherly arm around your shoulder all the way to the Great Hall, where he split his path and sat across from you. Sirius followed you down the isle, continuing his teasing conversation with Peter. James sat between Remus and Peter, his smile never faltering. He acted as if eating lunch with his mates and their tag-along was the best thing he had ever done.

Remus was quiet, almost shy, but you knew that. You had known him your entire time at Hogwarts, and the crush you had on him seemed to last that whole time. You had seen him come out of his shell as the years went on, but he didn’t seem nearly as comfortable as when he was with his friends.

You stifled your laughter with the back of your hand, blushing slightly at Sirius’s rude joke as he bumped his shoulder into yours. You looked down at your plate, pushing around the mashed potatoes that had grown cold.

“Sirius!” Peter yelped, his eyes wide in shock as he nervously glanced to you.

Sirius had made a crude joke, you knew that, but you hadn’t heard it. You and Remus had been meeting in short bursts of eye contact and the small action alone was making your spine shiver.

You looked up from your potatoes, seeing the boys fading with laughter and delve back into their food. That was something you never understood about boys; they sat down, ate and ate until they were done, and then got to talking. You, Lily, Marlene, and Mary could talk for hours while you ate, but the boys seemed unable to do more than one thing at once.

The thought brought a fond smile to your face, and you felt something bump against your shin. Looking up from your plate, you met Remus’s eyes again.

“What’s got you smiling?” he asked, his voice kind with a teasing nature behind it.

James looked up from his plate in the middle of shoving what had to be an entire chicken breast in his mouth, and began cooing at you as your cheeks flushed.

“’M just happy you lot stayed,” you blushed, refusing to meet Remus’s eyes, “would have been dreadful without your company.”

Sirius, without missing a beat, threw his arm around your shoulders and drew you into his chest. His large hand went to your head, ruffling up your hair. You cringed away, giggling and attempting to lay your hair smooth.

Everyone’s cheers in agreeance died down, and James roped Sirius into a heated discussion about Quidditch as Peter hung onto his every word.

“‘M happy you stayed, too,” Remus mumbled from across the table, his head ducked down as a blush was creeping up the back of his neck.

You fought the urge to break the eye contact, giving him a smile so wide that your cheeks burned.

You all returned to the common room with full stomachs and wide smiles, courtesy of James, who had just announced his newest plan at getting Lily’s attention. You just finished listing off all the reasons she would hate it, and he clambered through the portrait hole with a dazed smile that a lovesick puppy would have.

You trailed behind the boys, watching them all fall onto comfortable couches and armchairs. You looked at your limp backpack indignantly, choosing instead to follow them.

You curled up in an armchair that was across a large couch occupied by James and Sirius and to the left of another armchair occupied by Peter. Peter leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, setting up a new chess game for him and Remus to play. Remus sat on the ground, eyelevel with the board. He noticed you looking at him and gave you a kind smile that made you look away, blushing.

The night was spent in leisure. You had barely wanted to get up for dinner, even Sirius suggested making Peter go down to the kitchens so they wouldn’t all have to go to the hall. In the end, you all went, having just as much of a good time as you did at lunch.

You wished them a goodnight after you fell asleep watching Sirius and Remus levitating the most valuable things they could find in the room, sending Peter into anxious fits every time they pretended to loose their balance. You groggily walked up the stairs to the dormitories, leaving your homework downstairs with a satisfied sigh.

For a few moments before you fell asleep again, Remus’s brilliant and bright smile was burned behind your eyes.

(-)

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sirius groaned, throwing himself dramatically onto the couch with a huff.

“Shud up,” Remus groaned, falling into the armchair you had been sitting in. He could smell you on the chair, your scent floating into his nose like it was intoxicating.

“Really botched that one, mate,” James said with a chuckle, picking up a few of his Quidditch magazines off of the floor and putting them back on the coffee table, where Peter had accidentally knocked them off.

“Romance is confusing! How was I supposed to know?!” Remus groaned, lifting his head from his hands with a desperate look.

James gave him a knowing smirk, and Sirius groaned again.

“It was obvious! You always offer to walk a romantic interest home,” Sirius said, twirling his wand in his hand.

“They were just going upstairs,” Peter mumbled, seeming to agree with Remus.

“It’s alright, Moony,” James said, standing from the couch with a look of determination, “you’ve got all week to seduce them.”

“Shud up,” Remus groaned, repeating his request from earlier.

His eyes fell to the stairs you had climbed moments ago, remembering the peaceful look on your face as you slept, the adorable stretch you did once you woke up, the tired way you climbed the stairs, and that beautiful smile you gave them when you said goodnight.

Remus decided to stay in the common room for a bit longer once his friends had went upstairs, trying to force every second from the time you spent together that day into his memory permanently.

(-)

You woke up feeling more rested than you had in weeks. The sun was barely in the sky when you opened the curtains, your unusually empty room flooded with orange light. You dressed quickly, donning muggle clothes that you found incredibly comfortable.

You went down to the common room, seeing that the mess the boys had made last night was either cleaned by them or house elves. There was no sign of life in the Gryffindor tower, besides yourself, so you assumed the four were still soundly asleep upstairs.

You found your backpack, overflowing with loose papers, and shrugged it onto your shoulders. You had decided to get some work done today, seeing as your day off the day before was not scheduled.

You ate a quick breakfast in the empty hall, finding it odd and strangely discomforting to be in such a large room by yourself. It felt as if you were out past curfew.

The library was the same case. Madam Pince was not even at her desk yet, and you settled into a table by the window. You opened it a sliver, enjoying the cold winter air that seeped into the room. The sunlight warmed you, and the wind was gentle enough to not rustle your papers.

You dove into your work, feeling considerably better than yesterday, or the past month. Your muscles were loose, and the pressure you had been putting on yourself was no longer there. One night of fun proved to be harmless, and so did the marauders.

You smiled at the thought of it, at the thought of your little day with Remus. He had been so kind to you, so funny and charming. You had never liked someone as much as you liked Remus.

You found your gaze drifting out the window, looking past the castle and Hagrid’s hut and out into the Forbidden Forest. You couldn’t think of anything but the curly headed, dirty blonde boy. The way his eyes nervously darted to yours, his sheepish smile. The way he could easily make James, Sirius, and Peter fall into doubled-over laughter, almost as if good-naturedness came to him as easily as walking did.

The sun rose in the sky, and it was almost time for lunch. Even with your mind distracted, you had gotten done more work than you had expected. You decided that if the boys asked you to have lunch with them again, you wouldn’t decline.

It was as if your thoughts were read, because just as you were organizing your papers to put them away, Remus walked into the library. You fumbled a bit, realizing you smudged some fresh ink on your newly written Potions notes. You didn’t care, though, smiling widely and waving Remus over.

“Alright?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes as if he had just woken up.

“Yeah, you?” you couldn’t help but stare at him. His voice was deep and thick with sleep, and he pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his slender hands. He had a muggle novel tucked under his arm, and he put it on the table as he sat down across from you.

“Eh,” he started, looking at you with slight amusement, “James woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the pitch, and he woke up Sirius when he did. Sirius is a git if he gets woken up before noon.”

“That’s not a surprising piece of information,” you chuckled, setting down your papers and getting comfortable in your seat again.

“Yeah, best to stay out of the dorm when Sirius is in a mood. Peter went to ask for some extension on a paper he forgot to do,” Remus smiled fondly at his friends flaws, opening his book and propping it on his knee, “so I figured I’d come find you.”

“You found me,” you opened your ink bottle and dipped your quill into it, going over your Potions notes and fixing the smudged ink.

You were a bit disappointed by Remus’s reasons for coming to see you. Part of you had hoped he missed you, or enjoyed your presence. But the truth was that you were his only other option for company. Your chest deflated slightly as you stole a glance at him only to find him deeply invested in his book. Many conversation starters bubbled in your throat but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of them.

It was about an hour of silence in the library before Remus suggested lunch. He helped you pack up your things, humming under his breath as he led the way out of the library.

Lunch was soup, which you didn’t mind too much. Sirius was already at the table with James when you arrived. Remus sat next to you, across from his friends.

Sirius had his head propped up in his hand, lazily bringing soup to his mouth before dropping the spoon into the bowl with a clatter as his eyes fluttered shut. James rolled his eyes, shoving the bowl of soup away from him and wiping up the splattered mess from the table.

James eagerly dove into a cheery conversation about his solo Quidditch practice, and Remus reluctantly listened. You felt as exhausted as Sirius looked, even though you had a wonderful nights sleep. You hadn’t felt so tired until your upsetting thoughts about Remus, but now you could barely keep your eyes open. You hadn’t been sitting for more than ten minutes, your soup was barely eaten, but you just wanted to curl up in your dorm.

Peter came into the hall, filing down the row where you had Remus were sitting. He was getting close, and you stood.

“Here, Peter, have my seat,” you said, slowly standing as James’ face contorted with confusion. You could see him working out pleas for you to stay, and your heart warmed a bit.

“I’m gonna have a lay down,” you excused, not waiting for Sirius’s head to lift from his hand or for James to suggest all of you walking back together.

As you walked away, you heard Peter begin to chat about his essay extension.

(-)

Remus knew he had done something wrong. He knew it.

You had seemed happy to see him, you smiled at him, you were friendly, but at some point he said something to make you close off. He was looking forward to spending the morning in the library with you. He had made up the excuse of getting out of the dorm, knowing that with Pete and James gone and Sirius out cold, it would be fairly peaceful. Remus, however, wanted to see you.

You looked heavenly dressed in casual muggle clothes with the morning sun lighting your face. He was happy to sit with you, but you didn’t seem happy to sit with him.

He wondered if you were bothered by him and his friends. If yesterday hadn’t been as fun as he thought it was, and if you just wanted to be left alone. He felt a surge of annoyance with James for being so forward, but quickly drowned that out. It wasn’t James’s fault.

Remus stared into his bowl of soup, not listening to Pete as he complained about the essay he had to write.

James indulged Pete, listening to his complaints with sympathy as he dipped his bread into his soup. Sirius, however, could not be bothered.

He had come to attention when you left the table, watching your hunched shoulders and nervous hands pushing your hair off your face. He had even caught your sad glance over you shoulder at Remus before you finally turned to go upstairs. Sirius was thinking, he was thinking hard. He could read you and Remus like an open book. He had known you liked Remus since you started showing up to the library whenever Remus did, no matter how subtle you thought you were being.

Sirius looked at his friend, confusion knitted in his eyebrows as he hunched over his food. He gasped silently, catching James’s attention, as his eyes lit up with an idea.

(-)

For the next couple of days, it was not hard to avoid your fellow housemates. James and Sirius seemed to be sneaking off as often as they could, clutching their cloaks close to them as if they had something underneath them.

You avoided Remus, who presumably only had Pete to keep him company now, by staying in your dorm. The library wasn’t the only place you could study, and you spread your books all across Lily’s bed. You had begun to enjoy studying in your dorm, it was private and quiet, with no Madam Pince staring you down from her desk.

It wasn’t that you disliked the marauders’ company, because you didn’t. You really liked hanging out with the boys. You had just wanted to prevent any more heartache when hanging out with Remus. You had obsessed over your last interaction in the library, convincing yourself it would be best to stay away from the boy as to not attach yourself any further.

It was nearing the weekend, Christmas on the upcoming Saturday. You didn’t want to be in solitude on Christmas, but your pride prevented you from asking to hang out with the boys. You didn’t know what Sirius and James were up to, and you didn’t want to know. You didn’t feel like hanging out with Peter, because being in his presence alone made you just as anxious as he was. And Remus, Remus was an entirely different story. Just seeing Remus made your heart race unnervingly.

On Thursday night, you crept down the dormitory stairs and into the common room. You stopped and waited to hear for Peter and Remus, but it seemed they were still in their room. You were going down for an early dinner, hoping to eat quickly before everyone else came down.

You seemed to be successful, your plate was nearly cleared and there was no sign of anyone else. You were serving yourself pudding, your favorite pudding, when someone sat across from you.

You looked up. Your throat closed involuntarily, and your spoon froze on it’s way to your mouth. You straightened your back, eyes widening at the sight of him, and wiped your mouth nervously with your napkin.

“Hey, Remus,” you said, smiling politely at him as he began to dish himself food, “where are the rest of the boys?”

“Just me,” he said, his voice sounding a little higher than usual.

“Are you alright?” you watched him carefully as you noticed his posture was straighter than usual.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, looking at you now.

You looked at him, squinting your eyes. He seemed off, but you figured he could be nervous without his friends around.

“Okay,” you trailed off, returning to your pudding.

“Haven’t seen you much, recently,” he said confidently, the usual softness in his voice absent.

“I’ve just been up in my dorm,” you said, still gazing at him cautiously.

“Don’t want to spend time with Sirius, James, and I?”

You bit your lip, looking at him with a serious expression. Remus never excluded Peter when he was talking about his friends, but Sirius often did. You noted it, unsure what that could mean. Had Remus asked Sirius on advice at how to talk to you? The thought made you suppress nervous giggles.

“No, it’s not that,” you felt your cheeks warm under his blatant stare, “you know how crazy I am about the N.E.W.T.’s.”

Remus chuckled under his breath, slowly eating his pudding. This was also weird, because Remus usually devoured any food in front of him as if he was a starving animal.

“Remus, are you sure your alright?” you squinted at him, dropping your spoon and propping your chin up with your hand.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said nonchalantly, squinting back at you.

He had remarkably less patience and ease than usual.

“Okay, well, I’m done eating. I think I’ll go back to the tower now,” you stood slowly, watching his face contort with urgency.

“Wait!” he called, standing too, “wait, come sit for a second.”

You joined him again, clearly suspicious. You wondered if he was distracting you while the boys set up a prank.

“I need to ask you something,” he whispered seriously, leaning closer to you over the table.

“What?”

“Do you fancy me?” he smirked at you, mischief in his eyes.

At first you wanted to shrink away, blush madly and sputter out lies to conceal your true feelings. But you didn’t. You kept his stare, a blank face looking into his daring one. You decided to make a guess.

“Sirius?” you said confidently, so it didn’t sound like a wild guess. You knew it was crazy. Surely, Sirius would never transfigure into his best friend to eat dinner alone with you and ask him about your feelings for him. Surely.

“How did you know!?” he asked, his voice now completely Sirius’s instead of his weird imitation of Remus’s voice.

“What!?” you questioned back, surprised that you were right, “It’s actually you, Sirius?”

Sirius’s face, well, still Remus’s face, dropped with disappointment, upset that he gave himself away.

“Yes,” he mumbled, moving his hand to tuck his hair behind his ear, only to remember Remus’s hair wasn’t that long.

“What are you playing at? How did you do this?” you motioned your hands at him, sounding more amazed than angry.

“Polyjuice Potion,” he said mischievously, his eyes meeting yours at the tone of your voice.

“That’s really advance stuff, Sirius,” you said, slightly impressed as you leaned back and crossed your arms.

“I had some help,” he said sneakily, and suddenly what he and James had been sneaking off for made sense.

“Are you two planning something? Testing out the costume on me?” you said excitedly, hoping the boys would let you in on whatever prank they had planned.

“Well, about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you sort of were the plan.”

You looked at him, confused. It felt weird to be talking so casually with Remus, and you fought the urge to blush every time he looked at you, knowing it was actually Sirius.

“I know you fancy Remus,” Sirius said, sounding a bit guilty.

This time, you could not resist shrinking away and blushing. You looked down at your lap, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“But,” Sirius started again, his voice oddly comforting and kind, “I know Remus likes you, too.”

Your eyes shot up to meet Sirius’s, your face becoming somehow even more flushed.

“You were trying to get me to admit it to you? That I like him?” you asked him, heart racing.

“I just wanted you to confirm it,” he said, sounding even more guilty, “I didn’t want to try and set you two up if you didn’t like him back-”

“Set us up?!” you interrupted, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he said casually.

“How do you plan on doing that, then?” You tried to sound annoyed in an attempt to hide just how excited you were.

Sirius had waved over James immediately, who has hiding behind a pillar in the courtyard looking in on you and Sirius. The two began talking almost as animatedly as two schoolgirls stricken with an exciting prospect of romance.

You watched, lazily propping your chin on your hand as they rambled on about the ways they thought you should confront Remus.

James had been quite keen on them influencing Remus to confront you, and Sirius reckoned you ought to “grow a pair” and kiss him yourself. James was nearly affronted by the idea, insisting on a classic and romantic gesture from Remus’s behalf.

Either way, you couldn’t fight an embarrassed blush that seemed permanently glued onto your cheeks. You swallowed heavily at any mention of kissing, which was being discussed at length. You had half a mind to stop the hopeful ramblings, but James and Sirius were Remus’s best friends, they had to be somewhat right about his feelings for you.

The conversation got remarkably easier, too, once the potion had warn off and it was Sirius in front of you instead of a fake Remus.

You looked into the courtyard, enjoying the cold air lofting into the room through the open doors, when you noticed Remus and Peter entering the room. The cold air had been helping in cooling your cheeks, but at the sight of Remus’s wide and carefree smile, they warmed immediately.

“Shut up!” you mumbled harshly to the still ranting dark-haired boys in front of you, kicking them each in the shin for good measure.

They looked offended, but Sirius caught your eye and smirked once he realized why they were silenced.

“Have you guys eaten already?” Peter asked, sounding disappointed as he sat next to you and saw your empty bowl of pudding.

“Just had an early lunch,” James said merrily, moving to scoop himself another bowl of pudding after he had eaten an entire lunch while he and Sirius were talking, “but we’ll stay while you guys eat.”

You swallowed hard, looking at James with wide eyes as he quirked an eyebrow at you. You were planning on leaving the second Remus sat between James and Sirius, right across from you, but now you couldn’t be so obvious.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Y/n,” Peter mumbled from beside you, stuffing his face with a large heaping of peas.

You looked to Remus almost automatically, only to see him looking questioningly at you. You couldn’t resist the small smile that flirted on your lips as he averted your gaze quickly.

“I can’t get much work done with you lot around,” you teased, clearing the table in front of you and resting your elbows there, “I’ve been in my dorm, most days.”

“What about for Christmas?” Peter pried curiously, “Will you leave your dorm for Christmas?”

“Of course they will!” James boomed from across the table, causing a few tired looking Ravenclaws who were just coming in to glare at him apprehensively, “Starting Christmas Eve, they won’t be able to get rid of us.”

“Oh,” you looked to him, eyebrows raised in entertainment, “I won’t?”

Remus looked between you and James with an excited smile.

“Of course not,” Sirius said for James, picking a carrot off of Peter’s plate from across the table.

“For a limited time,” James said mysteriously, “you will have the honor of becoming a temporary Marauder.”

“They what?” Peter said from his goblet of pumpkin juice, causing some to splash back in his face.

“Peter!” Sirius groaned, annoyed with the boy, “Get in the holiday spirit!”

“Don’t worry Pete, just for a limited time. The holidays are a season of extending great charity to others,” James said, talking with humor in his tone.

“Charity?” you repeated, an amused smile on your face.

“We don’t let in just anyone,” Remus said, looking only at you.

When your eyes met his, you felt all the air leave your lungs. Your jaw clenched in an attempt to gather some sort of consciousness, but all you could do was look back at Remus.

“That’s true, ‘tis a great honor,” Sirius had raised his goblet in some sort of toast, and you had barely noticed until Remus was raising his glass.

You broke the contact, finally, and sputtered for a moment before you could find your goblet on the table. You rose it, hoping to lower it quickly as you noticed a slight tremble in your hand. Remus connected his goblet with yours gently, looking at you again while you were intent on avoiding his eyes. He had some sort of knowing smile on his face, and you felt very exposed to him. It felt like he was reaching in your chest and squeezing your heart for his own pleasure, and it scared you to know you could not tell him to stop.

(-)

Christmas Eve was very celebrated amongst the boys.

So celebrated, in fact, that Sirius insisted Christmas morning was a day for hangovers.

He had brought out the firewhisky fairly early into the afternoon. James had looked at him with nervousness, but nonetheless took a heaping sip when offered a glass. You sipped casually, not feeling all too comfortable with the chaos that seemed to lurk in Sirius’s eyes.

By the time the sun was beneath the horizon, Sirius and James were dancing some sort of Irish jig on a table, and Peter was very angrily talking to himself in a mirror. You and Remus, neither of you having very much to drink, sat comfortably on a couch, watching the night unfold.

“Why aren’t you drinking with them?” you asked Remus, glancing at his full cup and tensed shoulders.

He glanced down at you, nervously biting his lip and running a hand through his hair. Oh, how you wanted to touch his hair.

“I don’t really feel like being hungover on Christmas,” he said, noticing your full cup as well, “what about you?”

“I don’t think Lily would ever forgive me if she found out I got drunk with you lot on Christmas Eve,” you teased, smiling to yourself at the fond thought of your friend.

“I miss Lily,” Remus remarked simply, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a large gulp.

“Me too,” you sighed, doing the same and hoping it would ease your nerves, “she wrote to me yesterday. She’s having a lovely Christmas. Her sister is being awful, but that’s per usual.”

You and Remus shared a knowing smile, both thinking of the complaints you had heard from Lily about her sister.

“Have you written back yet?”

“No, not yet. I was going to wait until after Christmas,” you were waiting to write Lily back so you could thank her first for the undoubtedly wonderful present she got you. You didn’t know how, but Lily Evans always gave the most thoughtful presents.

“When you do, tell her we miss her,” Remus said softly, his cheeks beginning to flush pink as he watched with a smile his friends dancing.

You nodded, ducking your head to hide a smile.

“Oi!” James yelled, stopping his dance suddenly.

You and Remus froze as he looked at the pair of you, each wearing an entertained smile. James hopped off the table with ease, as if he was not drunk out of his mind and as if the table wasn’t a good four feet off the ground.

“Come dance,” James said once he finally reached the both of you, though, only offering you his hand.

He waved his wand at a muggle radio they had in the corner, and the volume increased. Sirius smiled widely, refreshing his drink with the dwindling amount of firewhisky left. You cautiously took James’s hand, letting him spin you as you giggled.

James caught Remus’s eye, the blonde boy watching you with adoration. James pulled you close, resting one hand on your shoulder as the other held your hand, and leaned in close to your ear.

“Moony is watching you,” he slurred, sounding excited, “I reckon he’ll make a move tonight if Sirius doesn’t finish all the liquor for himself!”

James pulled away, giggling once again like a schoolgirl. You could not help his infectious laughter, your forehead falling onto his shoulder as you laughed loudly. As if on que, Remus stood and walked with determination to Sirius. He took Sirius’s goblet and downed it, smiling widely and accomplishedly afterwards. He climbed on the table with Sirius, who had long forgotten about his stolen alcohol, and began awkwardly moving his lanky body in a way that could be called dancing in the most generous of terms. This made you laugh even more, and James had to nearly fully support your weight as your knees buckled with your hard laughter.

It was shaping up to be a lovely Christmas Eve.

(-)

Christmas, as Sirius had predicted, was a morning for hangovers. You had barely glanced at your mounds of presents at the foot of your bed, instead throwing on your warmest sweater and going immediately to breakfast.

It had been decorated, as it had all week, with great care. Today, however, the tree had been alit with wonderful and delicate decorations, sparkling under the enchanted ceiling. The entire room somehow smelled of pine, and the warm feeling of a fireplace shot down your spine when you sat down.

You cradled a cup of tea, hunching over and fighting the urge to fall back asleep at the table. You couldn’t bear to look at food yet, regretting the glasses you drank once Sirius had found that second bottle of firewhisky.

There was no sign of life in the castle, besides the lovely decorations, and you found yourself grateful.

It was as if, however, that you cursed yourself the second you thought this.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n!” James shouted from the entry way of the castle, his loud voice assaulting your ears even from such a distance. Beside him, Peter, Sirius, and Remus cringed away in pain, shrinking down and walking past him into the hall.

“Bloody. Fucking. Hell,” Sirius groaned once he sat down next to you, his head hitting the table as soon as he was still.

Remus sat on the other side of you, going at once for heaping servings of the hot food. You swallowed the vomit in your throat at the sight of so much food, forcing your eyes deep into your tea. James happily sat down next to Peter on the other side of the table, patting his friend merrily on the back. Peter winced audibly, a pained look on his face.

“How are you not hungover?” you whispered once you were sure you would not vomit.

“He never gets hungover,” Remus groaned from beside you, his mouth full of beans.

“Never?” you repeated, wincing as you reached for more tea.

“Never!” James said happily, obviously enjoying his wonderful, wonderful gift.

“Oi!” Sirius groaned, his head still buried in his arms.

James smiled.

“Eating helps, really,” Remus said from beside you, glancing an earnest look at you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Mmmmm,” you groaned in response, ducking your head down as Sirius was doing to avoid vomiting.

“What a lovely Christmas this will be!” James said, earning a unanimous groan in response.

(-)

Getting back to the tower was a slow and painful process that included many bathroom breaks and headaches. You and Sirius had both ducked into the loo twice each to vomit, and James supposed it had something to do with climbing the stairs. Peter was limping for some reason, though you could not remember him hurting either of his legs the night before. Remus was nearly as recovered as James, just looking a bit tired.

After you were sure you had emptied your stomach of the tea you drank for breakfast, you were feeling a bit better. Your legs felt a little wobbly, and Remus must have noticed, because he offered his arm for you to steady yourself on as you walked along. Your mind was so foggy you almost had not noticed, but his strong arm beneath your fingers was enough to clear you up a little. You held him close to you, hoping the hangover was excuse enough. James gave you and encouraging smile, nodding enthusiastically. You were sure Sirius would be giving you a smirk if he wasn’t basically crawling down the halls.

Once you reached the common room, Remus had not retracted his arm. In fact, he had interlocked his hand with yours, still with your arms looped, and led you over to a couch. He sat very close to you and still did not remove himself from your grasp even as you were sitting. You felt so comfortable and warm next to him, you could not help but close your eyes and let your head fall on his shoulder.

(-)

James retreated upstairs with Peter. Peter had wanted a quick and undisturbed nap, and James returned downstairs a few moments later with his practice Quidditch robes on. Sirius had collapsed on an armchair the second he crawled into the room, and showed no indication of life as he fell into a deep sleep. James gave Remus an encouraging smile and two thumbs up, but did not dare to speak in case you weren’t asleep. Remus rolled his eyes, but was truly quite happy with the position he had found himself in.

Your arms were looped, hands intertwined, and your head rested delicately on his shoulder. He leaned his head against yours, breathing in the smell of your shampoo.

He had wanted to stay there forever.

(-)

When they all awoke, James was out of his Quidditch robes and in a thick wool sweater. He was polishing his broom with what looked like a new polishing set, perched on the armrest of a couch across from you and Remus. You had woken up when Sirius did, his loud yawns and stretches filling the room. When you lifted your head, you bumped into Remus’s head, and he woke up. Your cheek felt sore from pressing into his strong shoulder, and you looked down at you hands to see them still interlocked. You were sweaty and tired, but Remus looked down at you sleepily with complete happiness.

“Happy Christmas, you lazy bones,” James tutted like a mother would, putting down his broom and standing.

“Happy Christmas,” Remus said, smiling widely.

You sat up, removing yourself from Remus. He untangled your arms, removing his hand from yours. You felt sad at the absence, looking down at your lonely hand. Remus was looking too, and when you met his eyes he bit his bottom lip. With some slight hesitation, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a side hug. You lingered, and he made no move to pull away, so you stayed there, tucked under his arm.

“I never looked at my presents this morning,” Sirius said, standing from his chair and motioning for James to follow him.

“Neither did I,” you said to Remus only, hearing the other two retreating upstairs.

“Want me to walk you up to your dorm?” he offered, adjusting his body so he could see your face.

You uncurled from him, nodding excitedly.

You stood from the couch, walking over to the stairs. You waited for Remus, watching as he slowly stood and stretched. You leaned against the door frame, supporting yourself on your hands behind you. Remus came over to you, walking slowly with a sleepy and dazed look on his face.

“Happy Christmas,” he repeated, only to you this time.

“Happy Christmas,” you said, smiling at him as he leaned against the door frame opposite of you.

It was a narrow space, and there were only a few inches between you two, but neither of you made any movement. You wanted to go upstairs and see what your family had sent, what Lily had given you, what all your friends had given you, but you couldn’t tear yourself from the handsome boy in front of you.

Your eyes danced all over his face, admiring his curly and unkempt hair that fell into his dark and kind eyes, his sharp jaw that you wanted to run your fingers across, his soft lips.

You were both so entrance in each other, that neither of you had noticed the greenery sprouting from the door frame above you. It was mistletoe, sprouting from the wooden door frame between you and Remus. Remus noticed, his eyes darting up at it. He looked down at you, seeing you had not noticed it, and chuckled.

This seemed to snap you out of it, and you stood upright, coming closer to Remus. You looked up at the growing plant, eyes widening when you saw the red berry forming before your eyes.

“Mistletoe?” Remus chuckled, entertained as he reached up and brushed it delicately with his slender fingers.

“Is it?” you managed to say, watching his hand.

“It is,” he said, retracting his hand and bringing it to rest on your cheek.

He gently cupped your face, pulling you close to him until your chests met and neither of your backs were touching the door frame. You closed the distance, meeting his lips with urgency and desperation. You didn’t care if James thought Remus ought to kiss you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss Remus. And Remus wanted nothing more than to kiss you. His other hand came to your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hand on your cheek moved to the side of your neck. You reached up and slid your hands from his shoulders to this neck and into his hair, feeling the soft curls between your fingers as you had wanted to for so long.

Remus pulled you impossibly close to him, as if he wanted nothing to come between you, until his force was moving you to lean against the door frame. The feeling of the wood was unexpected, and you gasped into Remus’s mouth when you felt it. Remus took this as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and you allowed him, sighing softly as his tongue explored your mouth.

“Mistletoe?!”

You and Remus broke apart, his hands still on you even though your bodies were no longer touching. You both looked up the stairs, seeing James, Sirius, and Peter looking down at you.

Sirius had the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen, sure that it would make Lily’s skin crawl if she saw it. James seemed so content that you’d think he’d just been kissed and Peter anxiously twirled his fingers as he averted your eyes, obviously feeling bad for interrupting.

“Mistletoe,” Remus said, his voice husk and his lips wet. It took a lot of will power to not sigh at the sight of him, or pull him in by his collar and kiss him again. Instead, you looked up at the boys like a deer caught in headlights.

“You owe me ten galleons,” James said to Sirius, causing Sirius to groan.

“How do you know he kissed them?!” Sirius complained, digging in his robe pockets for the money.

“He didn’t, I kissed him,” you said, looking up at Remus and licking your lips nervously.

“Hah! Hand it over, James,” Sirius gloated, removing his hand from his pocket and holding it out to James.

James groaned, still a smile on his lips, and handed Sirius the money.

“You didn’t think I’d kiss them first?” Remus asked Sirius, pulling you into his chest in a loving and protective way.

“Sorry, mate,” Sirius said with no remorse in his voice, climbing down the stairs and pushing past you and Remus.

James and Peter followed him, all fiddling with some new gift they had gotten. You looked up at Remus, deciding your Christmas presents could wait until Boxing Day, and pulled him out of the door way. You fell onto the couch, Remus following you, and you fell easily into conversation with the boys. Remus wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

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