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backtothefanfiction · 4 months

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One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party

Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes

Word Count: 5.9K+

A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!

Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend.

Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.

Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.

No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.

The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one.

Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.

Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.

Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.

He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.

“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.

There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.

Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar.

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”

“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.

“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.

“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.

“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.

“Maggie?” Peter questions.

“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.

“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.

“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.

You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”

“What for?” You asked him.

“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”

“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”

“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.

“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”

“I know, but… she just, I know she never gave up hope.”

“You know what they say about hope?” You say.

“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.

“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Princess Leia.” you smile.

“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.

“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”

“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.

You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place.

He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.

“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.

You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.

“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.

“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.

“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.

Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.

“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.

“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his.

His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.

Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.

He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.

“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”

“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”

You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”

His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”

“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.

“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.

“Next year I won’t bother then.”

“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm. Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress.

The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.

He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“

“Peter.” You whine.

“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.

“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.

You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs.

The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.

You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.

His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.

“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan.

He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.

“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.

Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.

As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want.

His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.

You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.

You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.

You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him. Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.

His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.

You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin.

You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.

It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.

Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.

“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.

“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.

“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips.

You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.

You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.

His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.

You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.

He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.

When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.

His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”

“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.

“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.

“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”

You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”

“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”

You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”

“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”

“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.

“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.

“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.

“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.

“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.

He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”

“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.

“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”

“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.

He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.

“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.

I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.

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roonilwazlibimagines · 8 months

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s.b Holidate extras - sirius loves her

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader (holidate reader) Word Count: 4k Synopsis: just a little insight into Sirius' feelings over the years <3 i really want to rewrite holidate from his perspective but if it happened it would be an end of year/next year thing, but also i am in the mood to write, I still have my cedric fic that i need to upload and i am self indulging myself with a regululs fic because respectfully i'm only an active writer when i'm at my worst mentally <3 but idk if i'll upload it because it is very self indulgency but i can be convinced

Masterlist | Holidate Masterlist

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Sirius Black was sure that his mother had been trying to set him up with her since the day she was born.

He wasn’t sure because he couldn’t remember, but he was willing to place a very hefty bet that from the moment his mother first saw her, she had began praising her beauty and he was sure that she hadn’t stopped since.

He had vague memories when he was a baby of his mother cooing at her and rambling on about how gorgeous she was. Sure, Sirius was barely a year a old, but he swears that his mother would do it so often, that the memory was ingrained in his mind at such a young age.

Because that was all he would hear.

‘Don’t you think she’s just adorable?’

‘She’s just so stunning.’

‘She’s the prettiest little girl I’ve ever seen.’

So maybe, when Sirius was a few years older and could actually speak and form his own thoughts, his mothers constant pestering about her beauty had managed to seep into his mind. Sirius was still too young to be interested in girls, but he knew that beautiful meant something nice to look at, and she was nice to look at.

She always had nice dresses on, her hair always combed to perfection - even as a young girl - and she had a cheeky smile that his mother used to say would one day get her in trouble.

Sirius didn’t understand. There were many things he did that she said would get him in trouble one day. When he spoke back: ‘That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one day, Sirius Orion Black.’ When he grumbled and moaned about going to all the fancy events: ‘That attitude of yours is going to get you into trouble one day, Sirius Orion Black.’ But when she said it about her it sounded different and this annoyed Sirius. ‘Oh my,’ she had exclaimed when they were barely six years old, ‘that smile of yours is going to get you into trouble one day.’ She even laughed, ‘don’t know how anyone could ever say no to you.’

But even when Sirius was a tiny bit older and he had a very vague understanding that girls could be pretty, he still thought she was pretty. Even if he still wasn’t sure how much of this thought was his mother’s doing.

She was his friend, of course he found her pretty. She was always shy at first, but Sirius knew how to get her talking and as soon as she started giggling at his idiotic ways, he couldn’t help but laugh with her, even if he didn’t really find it funny.

She was gentle and kind to him when not everyone in that society was, and Sirius began to understand that beautiful didn’t just have to mean something nice to look at.

And when Sirius was a little bit older still, a year or two before he would be off to Hogwarts, he had a pretty good feeling that even if his mother hadn’t been constantly nagging him about her beauty since the moment he was born, he would still find her pretty.

He wasn’t sure what it was. There were other girls in their society, close to his age, but he didn’t think they were pretty like he thought she was pretty. Sure, they dressed nice and there was never a hair out of place, just like her.

But there was something missing.

Sirius didn’t think about it too much, she was his friend and that was all.

Even at this age he knew that he was a black sheep in his familiy and in this society and he knew that none of his thoughts or beliefs aligned with those of the people around him and he had a sneaky suspicion that this had impacted who he found pretty.

Which, he knew, didn’t make sense considering she was very much a part of that society, but he was still a child. It wasn’t a big deal.

Until he got to Hogwarts. And even at eleven, the girls at Hogwarts were very much attracted to Sirius Black and Srius Black was never one to shy away from attention. And he thought they were pretty, he really did, but even if he would never have admitted it, he knew none of them compared to her.

He thought she was pretty in a way that only an eleven year old could. She had a nice smile and Sirius liked the colour of her eyes. He preferred it when she wore her hair down and he liked when she wore red. But these were only fleeting thoughts that he never spent too long on.

And then came the day she stopped talking to Sirius and Sirius felt like absolute shit. She got angrier and meaner and had her glare always been this icy? She had glared at him multiple of times throughout their childhood, but there was always a playful crease between her eyebrows that Sirius often found the urge to smooth out.

Sirius was a little older now, and he thought that as her mean demeanour grew, his attraction to her would shrink.

It was probably why he never found anyone else in that society attractive. They were all assholes. She wasn’t.

But it seemed his mother had really done a good job of ingraining her beauty into his mind because he couldn’t escape the thought.

Not that he thought about it often, it would flicker into his mind late at night when he lay awake, trying to figure out why she stopped talking to him. And it would pass his thoughts when he saw her laughing with her friends, only for her face to turn cold as soon as she made eye contact with him.

And then Sirius was old enough to be genuinely interested in girls and he got a girlfriend, and then another, and then another, and a few nights here and there as well. And he managed to keep her out of his mind for the most part of it.

Of course, that was when she wasn’t rolling her eyes at him or telling him how pathetic he was.

If he was beiing honest, which he didn’t really want to be, he was starting to see her in a new light. Because as much as he’d deny it if anyone asked, she really was gorgeous.

She was effortlessly pretty and Sirius needed to know that she woke up looking like a mess because there was no way a person could be as perfect as her.

She didn’t wear makeup at Hogwarts, but he thought that maybe she wore it when they had Common Room parties. But it didn’t make a difference to Sirius, because whether she had makeup on or not, her eyes still sparkled when she laughed and when she was talking about something she enjoyed her whole demeanour lit up.

He had seen how she dressed outside of Hogwarts which was why he knew that she dressed much more casually at school. And maybe, every weekend Sirius would look over to her in the Great Hall to see if she was wearing that one pair of jeans that he especially loved. And now, Sirius thought he preferred when she tied her hair back because he liked the way the necklace she had been wearing since she was a child rested on her chest. That was all.

He hoped that maybe her beauty would diminish as she continued to be cruel to him and Sirius would say that it did, but he knew deep down, that it didn’t.

Unfortunately, Hogwarts wasn’t the end of it either. If he wanted any support from his parents, he still needed to show up to those stupid events that society held and it wasn’t until Christmas of the year they finished Hogwarts that Sirius realised he had been lying to himself for most of his life.

She was wearing a red dress that hugged every curve on her body and these shoes that made her legs seem like they went on forever, and Sirius grabbed two champagne flutes from the server next to him and drank them both in one go.

It wasn’t a new fact to Sirius that she was always well dressed, but she was no longer wearing the frilly, flowery dresses he now knew her mother dressed her in and Siriuis didn’t know what to do with himself.

Of course, the day ended with a fight between the two of them. And, maybe, Sirius was the one who started it, but they were standing next to each other at the dessert table and he couldn’t really say, ‘hey, I really like this dress, it looks really good on you,’ after years of fighting, so instead he said, “Huh, I thought I’d never have to see you again after Hogwarts.”

That earned him an eyeroll and a scoff and a, “That makes two of us.” and a sarcastic smile to really seal the deal.

So maybe, Sirius’ eyes had a mind of their own when she walked away, but the dress just fit her really well. And it was red. His favourite colour.

And so he’d find joy in seeing what she would wear to these stupid events. Sirius was old enough now to admit it. She was pretty. Anyone with common sense would say the same thing. It was something you couldn’t deny. Not that this meant anything more though.

And Siriuis didn’t deny it that night at that bar in Diagon Alley either. A place he never in a million years would have guessed he’d see her.

He couldn’t see what she was wearing because it was hidden from her coat, but he saw her jeans peaking out from the bottom and his mind wondered back to their Hogsmeade trips back at Hogwarts and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her drink from her glass.

Sirius should have known immediately that there was something wrong, there was no possible reason that she would be here unless it was an emergency.

And then he remembered what his mother had said just a few hours ago.

“Did you hear? She’s being married off to Tiberius Nott. Such a shame,” his mother sighed, “I always hoped you two would sort out your differences, but I can’t blame her for not wanting you.” She said, as if it wasn’t even an option that Sirius might not want her. “Such a shame, she’s too pretty for him.”

And for once, Sirius agreed with his mother. She was too pretty for him.

So Srius sat there and pretended like he didn’t want to tell her that Nott was punching above his weight. And he watched her walk into Malfoy Manor in another tight fitted red dress and Siriuis, once more, finished his champagne in one sip.

And so, maybe, when he proposed his idea to fake date her, it came from a selfish place. But Sirius couldn’t help it. Really.

She was standing outside, her body shivering from the cold, the shoes she was wearing making her legs look they went on forever and those stupid tight dresses she wore. It made him lose all rational thought and so really, he couldn’t be to blame.

And then New Years Eve came and his stupid brother had to come in and ruin everything, even if at first he was glad for his brothers presence because just maybe he wanted an excuse to kiss her. He tried to convince himself he didn’t want to, he tried to tell himself that he saw her like a sister, but he knew it wasn’t true and in the end it didn’t even matter because she didn’t want to kiss him.

Sirius didn’t know why this upset him so much.

He had faced rejection plenty of times and it didn’t phase him, but for some reason a little hole opened in his chest when she said ‘Why would I want to kiss you?’

And then she went and got drunk and Sirius couldn’t lie. He was enjoying it. She was always harsh to him and he didn’t blame her, he could be just as mean back, but tonight, she was a little looser and Sirius didn’t know whether to be happy about having a semi normal conversation with her, or upset because there was no way he was going to be kissing her when she was this drunk and when she obviously didn’t want him to.

No, he was happy because, really, he had no interest in kissing her. Really.

And then they pulled off their fake kiss and Sirius pretended a jolt didn’t go through his body at the little noise of surprise that left her lips and he pretended he didn’t feel tingly where their foreheads met or on the palm of his hands.

And then when they went home she just had to go and remind him that she didn’t actually like him. He thought they were getting somewhere normal, but he was wrong and he was a little grumpy. He wasn’t going to lie.

And it was all so overwhelming that he forget to even think about that prank his brother had also generouosly brought up. So when he was lying in bed that night, his stomach turned itself into a knot because it had taken him almost ten years to figure out that she stopped talking to him immediately after that prank.

And then Valentine’s Day came and she was suddenly in his room that he maybe spent an extra thirty minutes making sure was presentable. And maybe he knew what he was doing when he put on his grey sweatpants.

He wasn’t sure whether or not to get her a present, but he wasn’t cruel. Besides, when he saw that outfit stuffed right at the back of the stupid muggle store he had went in with Remus, there was one person that came into his mind.

Simply because he called her princess. That was all. Really.

And he thought it was funny so he brought it over and laughed even if she was not impressed. But she was getting ready and he thought her dress was a little ridiculous and a little over the top, but it fit her nicely and his mind was still swirling with that prank from their second year so he stood beside her like a good boyfriend should and at the end of the day, he apologised.

He was surprised when she agreed to come with him to St. Patrick’s Day, but he was grateful because he was telling the truth. He really didn’t want to hear about all the people his friends were telling him about, but he left out the part that it felt wrong. It felt like cheating.

He didn’t want to get his frends involved in their fake dating scheme, but he’d rather that than trying to explain why he sudddenly, wasn’t interested in dating.

And she came in this short green dress and Sirius suddenly became a fan of green. And it was lucky he had already had four cups of firewhiskey before she arrived, otherwise he might not have been able to tell her.

And maybe that much alcohol was the reason that this was the night Sirius was finally honest with himself.

It just popped into his head.

I love her.

And he wanted to shake himself because he didn’t love her. But with her eyes sparkling as she thanked him and teased him about the last time they spoke about style he couldn’t help but hear his mother’s praise of her in his head. ‘She’s the prettiest girl I’ve seen.’

And when she was playing with Harry and he realised she was good with kids he wondered why this was a universal turn on because suddenly, he was picturing her with his kids and Sirius told himself to slow down.

And then she was sitting in his leather jacket, in his arms, talking with his friends and the thought came back to Sirius.

I love her.

No. He didn’t. But he could love her. He thought.

When she wasn’t at his throat she wasn’t that bad. And so when she left Sirius tried to explain to her that he did actually enjoy her company so maybe she wouldn’t be so harsh with him, but then he fucked it up as he usually did.

And, of course, he was beating himself up for it as soon as she left, but like she usually does, his mother just had to help break him down.

‘You’ve been going out for a while now,’ she hummed. They’d had this conversaiton plenty of times before and it always ended with ‘Don’t ruin this, Sirius.’

‘She could ruin this too, you know?’ He would reply because he knew she could be mean if she wanted to, but this time he kept quiet, because he thought maybe he had ruined it.

So Easter came and Sirius wasn’t entirely sure what his heart was doing when he saw her with Nott, but he knew it didn’t feel good. Sirius wasn’t one to feel insecure, but even he couldn’t lie and say that her and Nott didn’t look good together.

Much better than what he probably looks with her. And then they spent that night together and Sirius was sure that something had changed and he hoped it was going in the direction he wanted it to go in.

And maybe he wanted to hint at that when he asked her what she thought would have happened if he had been sorted into Slytherin. A question that had been bothering him since his first night at Hogwarts.

He laid there with his eyes closed, but he was far from sleep and so when she suddenly stopped reading he opened one eye to see her eyes closed and the book fall flat on her chest.

He smiled to himself.

He wanted to stay like this. He wanted to lie next to her and pull the blanket closer to her but he knew that wasn’t a normal thing to do. So he slowly got up and wrote a note and left it with the book.

And when he put the book on her nightstand he couldn’t help but take one last look at her.

She really was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

And then Mother’s Day came and it seemed both of their mothers had done their best to ruin the day. And Sirius knew that she didn’t have a headache when she left and he knew he should have told her that his mother wanted her to come over, but how could he explain that that would make it too real?

That seeing her get along with his mother did something weird to him that he couldn’t quite explain and thinking about marriage made his stomach do a flip because Sirius had spent his whole life being uninterested in marriage, but now, he couldn’t get it out of hs head.

And then the Engagement came and Sirius had never felt so insecure. Why was she being so cruel? And why did he want to do nothing other than go and comfort her when she was crying and asking to break up? He was sure they were going in a good direction, but he suddenly felt like he was twelve years old all over again trying to imagine what could have possibly happened that made her stop talking to him.

Then it was her birthday and Sirius was kicking himself because he had been preparing her present since Easter and it felt wrong not to give it to her. He wanted to give it to her on her actual birthday, but then he saw her with Nott and he saw that necklace on her that he had never seen before and suddenly the two books in his hand looked pathetic, so he hid it behind the corner of her house and tried to act like everything was normal when he came over and spoke to her.

Sure, maybe it was weird for him to be doing this. But it was her birthday and he felt like shit and he still wasn’t sure what went wrong and maybe, he was going a little crazy because this was the second time she had done this to him and a part of him needed to know this wasn't his fault.

And Father’s Day came. He had heard a rumour that Nott was going to propose. His mother had been telling one of the other mother’s about it and Sirius had heard when he went to get a glass of water in the kitchen even though his mother changed the topic mid sentence as soon as she saw him walk into the kitchen.

She’ll say no. Was the first thought he had, but really, he couldn’t be sure. She just wanted that respectable and comfortable life that he, obviously, couldn’t provide.

That was, untl, she was at his door, her makeup smudged and her bottom lip trembling as she recalled what had happened. And Sirius would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear this.

And then, they were centimetres away and Sirius wanted nothing more than to kiss her. They hadn’t spoken in almost a month and he was the first person she thought to come see seconds after she declined a marriage proposal, so Sirius didn’t think it unlikely that she wanted to kiss him too. But she was very fragile and if Sirius was gonig to do this, he was going to do this right. She deserved that.

And he felt so confident in this choice until she hurriedly ran out and Sirius was ready to grovel to ensure she would forgive him for what he now understood was a mistake.

So when Sirius was trying to figure out what to dress as for Halloween, he took a gamble and went as a prince, only for the gamble to pay off when he saw her come as a princess. And even with the frown tugging on her lips, he still thought she was the prettiest princess he had ever seen.

And on his birthday when she finally became his princess, he suddenly felt infinitely lighter. Until he saw that picture of her in that princess outfiit he had provided her with. That one went straight into his drawer so only he would ever see that.

Sirius was never one to feel insecure, but if you were to tell him that he was punching above his weight with her, he wouldn’t disagree. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen and he made sure that he told her that every single time he saw her, because he was sure he would die if he ever lost her again.

And he couldn’t help but laugh when he took those photos off his mirror of the girls on the motorbikes because he was sure that they would stay there forever. But they got replaced and Sirius was reminded everyday of how lucky he was.

And when they were finally married and Sirius reailsed he probably should thank his mother. He was sure that without her constant nagging of her beauty, he still would have thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, but maybe he would have needed a push into that direction. Because she was definitely out of hs league.

And he realised she was right. That smile would get her in trouble. But it also got him in trouble, because his mother was right. How could anyone ever say no to her?

And Sirius finally got to wake up to her every morning and he wanted to tell his younger self that unfortunately, she was perfect, and even if in the morning she woke up with the short hairs that framed her face hanging in all directions, and even if she stll had sleep in her eyes and morning breath, she still was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

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