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anika-ann · 1 year

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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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iam93percentstardust · 8 months

Note

treat! 🍬

Treat! Thanks for playing, fren! You get a snippet from the pop star Tony au <3

“Woah, hey,” Tony says, alarmed. He really isn’t good with crying people. After a second of worried flailing, he scoots closer and puts his arm around Rumiko’s shoulders, hoping that that’s what she wants.

Fortunately, Rumiko just leans into him, sobbing harder. He lets her cry, lets her lean on him, her tears wetting his shirt. It seems like the best thing he can do for her at the moment. Just as it did before, it takes a while for her tears to peter out, and when they finally do, she fishes the napkin out from earlier and blows her nose again.

“Thanks,” she says eventually, voice stuffy and a little nasally.

“Anytime,” he says again. He drops his arm from her shoulders and turns to face her. He’s had a while to think about what he was going to say while she was crying, and he hopes that this does the trick. At the very least, he hopes it’ll make her laugh. “Ru, look, you are really someone, just ask anyone. You’re beautiful, every little piece of you, just absolutely incredible. And you’re so talented and charismatic. I love that you take pictures at every one of your stops and put them up above you bunk, I love that you know everything about your band members, I love that you scheduled a stop on this tour just so that your drummer could have that destination wedding she wanted. And you know, my mom used to tell me this thing back when I was younger and wondering if I was ever going to find everything I was looking for.”

“What?” Rumiko asks, wiping her nose on the napkin again.

“Stay beautiful,” he says.

Just as he’d been hoping, Rumiko lets out a helpless little giggle that turns into a full-bellied laugh. Rumiko has always been beautiful, Tony thinks—she’d been his first celebrity crush, after all—but there’s something special about the way she laughs with her whole body, nearly falling off the bus in her mirth. He catches her before she rolls all the way off, grinning back at her as she flaps her hand at him.

“What does that even mean?” Rumiko asks him through her laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks for an entirely different reason now.

He shrugs, admitting, “I have no idea. I’ve always been too afraid to ask.”

“Oh, that’s great,” she laughs. “Stay beautiful. I’m going to remember that one forever.” She collapses back into Tony, giggling uncontrollably all over again.

#alle writes #alle answers #rutony #verse: this life is sweeter than fiction

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warmaidensrevenge · 2 years

Text

Death becomes her

Vamp!Eddie x Vamp!plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

Oh no I had to do so this.. sorry

Warning:18+ language, blood drinking, smut, and violent deaths

Summary: Peter plays a trick that causes a loss of life. Eddie can't stop him.

Chapter 5: We are monsters

The next few months were divine. The continuous love making and bonding was the best either of you had. It got to the point where Sammy had to beg you guys to come out of the room. A room that you now shared. Eddie had moved into your room after a few days since nothing in your room was broken. You had made room for his clothes that he never seems to be wearing now. And he never planned on putting another item of clothing on when you were with him. He desired you. He ached for your lips, your touch, your beautiful hand running through his curls scratching his scalp the only way you could do it. Never in the history of everdom could he love anyone as much as he loved you. The mere seconds that you were apart were torture. He followed you like a puppy. It hurt him so much when you told him he could go see his uncle for his birthday. You wanted to stay back and go hunting and talk to Sammy. You explained that you guys need to stop feeding on each other. Not because you didn't want to. But if he was gonna continue to see his friends and family it was for the best. Your blood was good. But the temptations for human blood would be too hard to ignore now that he has the taste for actual blood. So he agreed almost on the verge of tears when you waved him goodbye.

It was hard for him to celebrate his uncle's birthday. Between all the laughter and conversation between him and his family all he could think about all he wanted was you.

Of course everyone noticed his withdrawal but he did his best to play along. After what felt like days he said his goodbyes early. With the promise of coming back soon with you. As he made his way through the gate he swore he would never leave your side again. He was rushing past the woods. Finally on the front porch he went in.

He went to the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses of black blood and grabbed the acoustic guitar and head upstairs. He stopped when he smelled your scent strong than ever.

Mmm baby already prepared for me huh?

Eddie heard your soft moans from behind the door.

Oh I see you couldn’t wait. Hmm gonna have to punish you for that.

He set down the guitar and the glasses on the hallway table as quietly as he could and silently opened the door. He saw you in your large desk chair. You had your legs spread and feet on the desk. All he could really see was your calves and a bit of your thigh. He focused on the sound of your fingers slipping in and out making the most beautiful wet noises.

He smirked and he quickly moved so that he was leaning against the desk next to you.

You jumped and brought your legs down trying to cover yourself.

" Oh someone being a naughty vampire."

" Eddie! You're back early. I -I." Your face turn red. " I'm sorry. I just missed you."

Eddie could see your eyes starting to well.

" No baby don't cry. I missed you- hey is that my jacket?"

You pulled his leather jacket off your shoulders and handed it to him covering your bare chest.

"Sorry Ed's. I really missed you. I needed something that reminded me of you to wrap around me. Well then the smell just got me."

" Oh no sweet girl. That's your jacket now. As long as I can have these." He held up the pair of your panties that you had next to you on the floor. His sniffed them deeply and put them in his back pocket.

He leaned down to kiss you. He moved to spread your legs again with his knee. He grabbed your new leather jacket and put it back on your shoulders. The flaps just covered your nipples. He stood back up to take a mental picture of you.

He shook his head. "Fuck baby! You are so damn sexy." He licked his lips.

You gave him such a sweet smile that he forgot all about punishing you. He dropped to his knees and put your legs on his shoulders pulling the chair closer to him. He nestled his face between your soaked folds. Humming into your cunt.

"Just smelling me gets you this messy? Oh my sweet girl."

You moaned calling out his name.

" Oh so needy. You need me in you. What do you want baby? One or two fingers?" He said in-between licking lazy circles around your small nub.

"Two. Please Ed's. I'm ready for 2." You moaned out of straight need

" Anything for my queen."

Eddie put in two fingers loving your warm walls pulsating around his fingers. He continued to suck and lick on your now swollen clit. He curled his fingers up to give your g-spot attention while he licked under his hand collect your concoction of blood and love. He finger fucked you until you were pulling away from the sensitivity.

"Ed's come on. Let's go lay down and I'll return the favor."

That sounds good but no

"No sweet girl. Tonight's just about you. We can take care of me tomorrow. But right now I need to taste your sweetness again.

He was obsessed with your pussy. He loved you on his tongue. He could eat you out for days if you let him. He needed nothing else. He could survive just on you. So he went down on you. It was hours when he stopped just short of his heart's content when you needed a break.

"You've got 5 minutes before I find you where ever you are and continue on my mission." He called after you.

He was really counting the down the seconds. When you only had 30 seconds left he put on his boxers and went to look for you. But with no luck. He went outside and heard footsteps in the distance. He listened for your heart and he found it.

Why are you out here? You literally only had a shirt and panties on when you went downstairs.

Not only was he upset that you were half naked out there but that you were with someone.

What the hell happened that you would just leave without telling me?

Finding out what direction you were going he listened. He heard Nicky leading you somewhere.

" Nicky what's going on? Where's the body?"

" I'm so sorry y/n I didn't mean to kill her. I was just so hungry."

Something wrong

" It's ok Nicky we will take care of this. Are you sure she's dead?"

" I think so."

That's when Eddie left to find you. "

No don't go. There's something wrong

Eddie was about an acre away when he was held back. There was an arm around is neck and the other was across his chest. He tried to fight back but whoever was holding him was too strong.

" Watch this. It's gonna hurt. I promise."

Peters voice filled his ears. He watching as you continued to walk. You stopped when you saw a hand full of demogorgons.

" Nicky there's too many. I haven't eaten yet. And I'm practically naked." You said with your back facing her.

"Y/N!!" Eddie screamed when he saw Nicky pull out a blade from her coat.

You turned around to look for him. Just then Nicky stabbed you in the chest.

" NOOOOOO!" He cried out.

Eddie felt his whole world shatter. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he couldn't breathe. He watched as Nicky pulled out the blade and you backed away.

"Y/N!" He tried again finding the air he needed

You looked over to him and he could see tears leaving the corners of your eyes. You fell to your knees holding your wound to stop the bleeding. Eddie fell to the ground on his stomach. He tried to get up but Peter's foot was on his back. And he was laughing.

Eddie looked back to you. You were holding out your hand reaching for him.

" Eddie." You gasped.

He watched in horror as the demogorgons grabbed you. Sinking their faces all over you. Dragging you into the darkness. Eddie listen for you. He listened for your heart and he couldn't hear it. You were gone.

Why!? You did you let him live?!

Eddie felt Peter's foot let go of him and with a gust of wind he was gone, along with Nicky. He got up and ran into the direction you were pulled to. He stumbled around searching to no avail. He screamed your name desperately searching for you. There was no blood. No pull. Nothing. After hours searching the upsidedown he couldn't find a trace of you. He was near lovers lake when he heard someone approaching.

" Eddie? Where's y/n? And where are your clothes?"

Eddie turned to see Sammy there holding himself. He didn't notice how cold it was out there. Eddie just shook his head as fresh tears came down.

" What's going on? Talk to me." Sammy pleaded

" Where were you?!" Eddie's voice was horsed

" What do you mean? I was out getting food. She told me too. Why what happened? She's not home."

" SHE'S DEAD!"

Sammy backed up. Shock across his face. "No! You're lying."

" Peter killed her!"

"That's impossible! She ordered him to stay away. He can't break that."

"He had Nicky do it....she stabbed her in the heart. And those fucking things took her body. Sammy.....I can't find her." Eddie broke down.

Sammy walked to Eddie grabbing his shoulders making him look up.

"Let's go home you need to get warmed up."

"NO! NOT UNTIL I FIND Y/N!"

"Eddie please. It's too cold. We need to get you warmed up. And then we can come up with a plan to get her body back."

" And kill Peter! Like we've should have done a long time ago."

" Eddie let's go back and I promise. We will figure out a plan."

Eddie agreed.

...

Finally back at the house Eddie was now dressed and clutching your leather jacket to his heart.

Baby no please come back.

He wept. He cried until morning. Sammy sat with him doing his best to alleviate some of the pain. But he knew there was nothing he could do. A part of Eddie died too. Nothing could compare to the lose of mate. That Sammy knew. He had been reading up on the stack of books you gave him. And he learned that the older you are the stronger you were. Eddie couldn't face Peter or Nicky alone. But at the same time they were Sammy's family. But Eddie was a part of that family too. And he was hurting so bad now.

Sammy wanted vengeance as well. You were always there. You gave Peter chance after chance. He didn't care though. He still did what he did. How could Peter really do that? Why? What good did it do? You guys were still vampires. Nothing changed, and you died for nothing. Sammy missed you. You were his best friend here. He was already blaming himself for not being there. He hugged Eddie and cried too.

"Eddie what do we do?"

He sniffled wiping his tears. " We need to find him. We need to kill him."

"Eddie. You can't. He will kill you before you even get the chance to get close to him."

"Remember when you said y/-....when you said she was too strong for you guys one on one. But together you were stronger?"

" Yeah."

" Then we have to team up. I get it he's like your brother. But it's her man. She loved you. She loved them and they still took her away from us. We need to get her Justice. She deserves that."

Sammy sat quietly contemplating the option. Would you really want him to kill them? Or would you have him and Eddie take care of each other and move on? You would have chosen the latter, but Eddie's wide eyes convinced him that he needed this. Eddie needed to know that Peter would never hurt anyone else again.

" Alright but we need blood." Sammy said standing up.

" I don't want to eat right now. I want to find Peter.”

"Eddie in order for you to be at full strength you need to drink human blood. That's when you are at your strongest. It should give you enough strength to kill him."

Eddie swallowed harshly. " Give me the blood."

...

After 3 bags of blood Eddie was ready. He and Sammy stood on the porch listening for Nicky or Peter. When they couldn't hear them they followed their scent. It lead to a gate.

They made their way through and immediately heard Nicky. Her faint sobs weren't too far. They trekking through the fields with only the moon lighting their way. They found her sitting near Dustin radio. She was sitting crying. Sammy approached her with caution as Eddie stood back.

Just tell us where he is and then you're done

" Nicky honey. What happened?" Sammy's voice was soft.

She hiccuped and continued to cry. " He-he said ...if I do it...then we-we can go home home. He-he said...we could be humans again.... He promised we could get mm-married. He lied. We-we didn't. I-i I'm so sorry. I didn't want to kill her....I loved her."

I would feel sorry for you if you hadn't just taken my world away.

" Sweetheart where is he?"

She shook her head.

"Nicky we need to stop him. We have to."

She nodded. " He f-followed the the monsters. He went to check if...if she really was d-dead."

WHAT?!

" What do you mean?" Sammy asked

" When I...when I stabbed her. I...I missed her heart."

Sammy looked back at Eddie.

" No she's gone. Her heart stopped." Eddie said

"Oh God!" Nicky cried out.

"Nicky! Where is he?!"

She looked at Sammy. " The Creel house."

Sammy stood up and moved back for Eddie. He closed his eyes.

That's when Eddie moved behind her ripping out her throat putting his foot on her back and lifting her chin to pull back her head. It was held on by skin.

Eddie was breathing heavily looking a Sammy.

" She deserved it." Sammy said and turned to go back to the gate

Eddie kicked Nicky's body to the ground and left her. He followed Sammy.

...

Outside of the Creel house they saw a light flickering in one of the windows. They made their way through the front door.

They saw a massive pile of corpses that lead all the way upstairs. Black blood covered the walls and ceiling. It looks like someone ran through, killing everything in sight.

Eddie's mind was clouded by rage and sorrow that he tried to run upstairs. Now scared what might be up there Sammy grabbed Eddie's arm before he bolted

"He's here I can smell him."

Eddie sniffed the air but it only smelled like dust. They heard yelling.

" You stupid bitch! We were supposed to turn back."

They heard a few thumps. Sammy and Eddie both ran upstairs and pushed the door open. They stepped in and saw Peter kicking your lifeless body.

" You stupid fucking cunt." Peter shrieked while landing blows after blows on your already battered body.

Eddie saw red. " YOU FUCK" he wailed trying to get to you.

But Peter grabbed him by the neck and threw him across the room. Eddie hit a beam and landed in a corner. He felt his ribs break. Peter laughed and went for Eddie again but Sammy stood in front of him.

"Seriously Sammy? You've known me longer than that prick. Why are you backing him? Is turning your back on your family that easy?"

" Then what was y/n? Was she not our family too? How could you do that to her? She loved all of us...and you killed her."

" She was a means to an end."

Eddie scoffed getting to his feet. " But look at you now. Still a little BITCH! A fucking piece of shit vampire."

Peter went for Eddie but Sammy stopped him.

" Common sammy let me kill him."

"NO!"

"are you really gonna protect some pathetic lesser version me.? All because he was fucking that pig?"

" You know what they had was more than that. But you are too busy trying to be human again that you didn't see them like I did."

"You were so worried about my girl to even notice yours. Did you even feel it? Did you feel when she died? Eddie taunted Peter. " You know when y/n's heart stopped beating it felt like my life crumbled around me. Like I would never be happy again. How did it feel when you didn't feel Nicky anymore?"

Peters face fell as he looked back and forth between Eddie and Sammy.

" That's what I thought. You're too worried about yourself to even care about her. I almost feel bad for ripping out her throat."

Peter leaped. Pushing Sammy aside and started to beat Eddie. Sammy got up and threw Peter off. Eddie tried to get up but his leg was broken. He watched as Sammy and Peter fought. His eyes fell on you.

Baby I'm coming

Eddie looked back at the fight and saw Peter have the upper hand. He forced himself up an went to help. Using the only thing he had. His fangs. He bit down ripping pieces of Peter's flesh. Doing his best to spit out the blood.

Peter pushed him off making Eddie fall hitting against a wall. He watched as Peter tore off Sammy head.

GOD SAMMY!

After Peter was done with him he went towards Eddie holding onto his neck where Eddie had bit him.

" Man I'm so gonna enjoy killing you."

Peter lunged but stopped just an arms length away. He looked down and saw Eddie holding a piece of broken wood right in his chest.

Eddie could hear his heart slow to a stop. “Fuck you”

...

After a few hours Eddie had finished covering the graves he dug for Sammy and you. He burned Peter's and Nicky's body once he was able to drink some of the black blood from a dead corpse.

He laid next to you. Hugging the fresh disturbed dirt.

" Please come back. Don't leave me alone." His weeping was the only sound that filled the night.

@salenorona23 @b-irock @eddiethesexy @tessab154 @potatos-library @browneyes528

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #vampyr #vampire #vampire eddie x reader #vampire eddie munson #vampcore #plus size reader #eddie x plus size reader

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peterthepark · 2 years

Text

love & web-shooters

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: tooth-rotting fluff, intimacy, no smut just vibes, boyfriend peter, depictions of violence, mentions of kidnapping, very brief angst

summary: your boyfriend peter parker has been up all week trying to fix his spider-man suit, but finds time to teach you how to use his web-shooters.

note: i am crying yes. no note. just fluff and drama.

missing out? ➤ my masterlist

Peter Parker is hopelessly enamored with his girlfriend. When is he not?

He swivels around in his chair, sparing a glance at your body laying on his bed. There’s a loving crinkle at his eyes as he hears you stir with a mumble, and you sleepily roll onto your side to look at him. The hazy gaze written all over your features grows butterflies in his stomach, and the bedhead you dawn immediately makes his day brighter.

You make him happy. Just looking at you is enough to turn a sour day into a sweet one.

“Morning, lover.” You giggle at him, fingers wiggling out as you reach for the brunette. He rushes over to embrace you, pulling you into his chest. It’s familiar. It’s home. It’s Peter, and that’s really all that mattered. “You’re up early.”

“Been trying to fix my suit. Dunno what’s happening with it, maybe need some new material.” He shrugs, tenderly rubbing over your ring finger. “Haven’t been able to properly love on my girl for weeks. I gotta get this done sooner or later or I will implode into the universe.”

“Mhm, yeah. Miss loving on you, too.” You peck his cheek.

“Should I take a break and love on you… now?”

You shriek as Peter suddenly tickles you, he attacks your stomach first, and your knees come up in instinct before he’s all over you. He blows raspberries into your cheek and into your collarbone, before he settles down into the midst of your laughter to look at you. The weight of his body on yours could never compare to any weighted blanket in the world.

His brown eyes looked so gentle, so filled with love and desire to give you the best of himself. The freckles across his nose reminded you of the sea — abundant and beautiful and you felt as if the longer you fixated on them, you’d get lost or perhaps stranded.

Not that you wouldn’t mind. You could get lost in Peter Parker for days, and it would be a gift from heaven itself.

“What are you thinking?” You whisper into the comfortable silence, caressing the side of his head as you realize he’s looking at you with the same fervor.

“Just thinking about you and how much I adore you.” He says without missing a beat. Peter wonders if you know how much space you take up in his mind.

He wonders if you know that his heart belongs to you.

You shake your head at him, “You are a sap, my dear Peter Parker.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ve established that a million times already, Y/N.”

You get lost in his features once more. Because you loved looking at Peter — not just for the adoration on his face, but for his scars and his wounds and the bruise that hasn’t gone away in days. It was what made him, him.

“You’re so pretty.” You mutter blissfully, and reach up to kiss him.

His lips are like honey, and tasted unexplainably sweet. They were always soft, and he made an effort to take care of them with chapstick or whatever lip-scrub you’d buy at the beauty store. His hands roam underneath your sweatshirt, grasping at the supple skin beneath. Peter softly nips at your bottom lip with his teeth, only ever pulling away to look at you with such astonishment that you were his.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person in the world, you know that?” He kisses into your skin, leaving a tiny hickey in his wake. “I don’t think any picture, or even my own vision can ever do you justice at all.”

You blush, and push him away playfully. “Work on your suit, Parker.” He flashes you his best attempt at puppy eyes, and you ignore him. “Would you like some help?”

“Nah, Y/N. It’s fine.” Peter sits back into the desk chair with a grunt, swiveling to face the damaged suit on the table while his back is to you. “Get some more sleep.”

You hum in reply. “I think I’ll just watch.”

“Freak.”

Seeing Peter Parker at work always made your heart melt. You had never gotten used to that big brain of his, and sometimes his smarts scared you. Peter was never cocky about it though, because intelligence could only get you so far.

Peter was a lover.

He prided himself in his ability to love, and to love harder than anyone else.

His hands move skillfully across the desk, and you struggle to understand what he’s doing from behind the expanse of his shoulders. Getting up from the bed, you move to sit on the edge of his workspace, careful not to bump into anything.

“New web-shooters?” You gesture at the bracelets with cartridges around them. Peter nods silently to acknowledge your question, too focused on sewing a part of his suit together. His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. “Can I?” You reach for them as Peter nods once more.

You carefully examine the device. Having once worked an internship with Oscorp, you were accustomed to the kind of tech that Peter dealt with — heck, you even helped him build some of it. Yet, somehow, part of you wished that you could try the Spider-Man stuff out. You wanted to know just how bad putting the suit on was, because according to Peter, it was the absolute worst. You wanted to swing across the city with him, you wanted to perch atop of the Empire State Building, or crawl across buildings without the fear of falling.

You wished that you could see the world like Peter did.

Peter notices that you’ve been staring at the web-shooters, not saying a word either. He raises his brows in concern, gently tapping your leg. “Everything okay? Is it broken too?”

His voice draws you back into reality, and you gaze at him with wide eyes. “Huh?”

He chuckles at you. There’s a curious smile that tugs on his lips as he cutely rests his chin in the palm of his hand. “You’re doing that thing again.” You tilt your head in question. “That — uh, like… daydreaming thing. Like you’re here but you’re not.” You nod in agreement. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” You brush it off, moving to place the web-shooters back. Peter grasps your wrist gently.

“I understand if it’s something you don’t feel comfortable saying aloud. But, I hope you know that I enjoy listening to you.” He chews on the inside of his mouth, looking at you intently. “It’s never not nothing. At least for me. I like making sure you’re okay.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t know. Sometimes — God. This is so stupid.” You rub at your temples. Peter doesn’t interrupt, letting you continue on your own account. “I feel — I wish I could be with you when you’re Spider-Man.”

“You’re always with me, though. In my mind.” He points at his head. “In my heart.” He pokes at his chest.

“No, you cheeseball.” You laugh, blushing under his lovestruck gaze. “Like — like I wanna help you. I wanna be there when you’re fighting bad guys, and I wanna swing across buildings. I wanna be useful. Like a sidekick or something.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment. You hear the gulp in his throat. “You know I don’t like putting you in danger like that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It was just a thought.” You suddenly feel shy. “Didn’t think you’d need a sidekick anyways when you’re already such a badass.”

Your boyfriend grins. “If anything, I’m the sidekick.” Peter touches your thigh when he notices your face fall for a second. “But, hey… I’m not opposed to the swinging thing.” His eyes study the way you sit up straighter, hands no longer stringing together in your lap.

“Really?”

He nods at you with the same excitement. “I mean, given that I’m there.” You roll your eyes at him, making a ‘duh’ face before he goes on. He’s hesitant for a second, before he lets out a grumble and curses under a breath. “How about you come with me on patrol tonight?”

“Are you being serious?” You gasp, hands fumbling with Peter. “Like patrol patrol? Like you fight bad guys and I watch from a distance?”

“More like you watch from the other side of the country, but sure.” There’s a bit of pain in his smile. “Why not? But there’s gonna be rules.”

Peter lists out three things:

One. Never ever interfere when he’s fighting. Even if it looks like he’s getting his ass beaten to Brooklyn and back, don’t step in. No matter what.

Two. Don’t draw attention to yourself. The whole purpose of web-shooters and swinging is to be invisible to the human peripherals, he says.

Three. If anything goes wrong, run. Go home.

“Okay, that’s fair.” You repeat the rules in your head, saying them over and over like a mantra.

“I hate that you’re convincing me.” He slumps over, staring at his lap. “I really do, Y/N. It’s making me nervous.”

“Hey, I can take care of myself.”

“I know. I know. It’s just… I hold myself to a high standard when it comes to protecting you and if anything happens on my watch—“ You kiss him mid-sentence, cupping both his cheeks. You feel the worry through the cracks of his lips and the heaving of his chest.

“Nothing will happen, baby. Nothing.”

You’re wearing workout leggings and a thermal when Peter emerges from the bathroom in his suit. Anxiety is written all over him, but you don’t bring it up, afraid that you’d miss your one chance at this. He eyes you up and down, even though he’s worried sick, you still see the glimmer of adoration in his gaze.

“Not as cool as your suit but it’s iconic, right?” You do a twirl for him, and Peter is already dreading letting you outside. It had been hours since your conversation in the morning, and Peter for once, fears the darkness of midnight.

“Anything you wear is cooler than the suit.” His arms encircle around your waist. He props his chin onto your shoulder, whispering into your ear. “Especially when you have nothing on.”

“Is this routine, Parker?” You spin on your heels to face him, letting your hands roam over his clothed chest. “Get all horny then do your friendly-neighborhood Spider-Man duties? Not very PG of you. So scandalous.”

He softly nudges you away at the joke, and his heart somersaults at your sweet bubble of a giggle. Peter moves to fish out something from his backpack — an extra set of web-shooters.

“Yours, but only for tonight.” Peter emphasizes. You take them hurriedly, clasping them around your wrists tightly. The hero double-checks, and you feel a tingling in your skin as his gloved hands touch you. The Spider-Man mask is sitting at the top of his head. He reaches to pull it down, but you stop him.

“I love you.” You whisper at him, kissing him longingly on the lips. “Let me.” Your fingers slowly pull the material down, careful not to hurt him. With a soft sigh, Peter’s face disappears beneath it.

Leaning back by the wall, you watch Peter push the window up, where he makes his way out first and sticks to the wall. He chivalrously extends his hand to you, and you don’t hesitate to follow in his steps. You sit on the ledge of the window while the chilly air bites at your skin, and you wince as the breeze begins to pick up.

“You know how to use those, yeah?” Peter says.

You check the cartridges, making sure there’s enough web inside. “Yeah, think so.”

“Okay, so - uh, don’t press anything yet! Just aim, and then—“

You shrill loudly as a stringy web connects to the building across the street, taking you with it. The fall is horrifying, and you hear Peter in the distance coming after you. But then, you’re picking up speed, and you find yourself in the air as you swing to a high roof. Your landing is anything but graceful, so you tumble onto the harsh gravel with a groan.

“Oh, my god. Are you okay?! Y/N?” Peter is at your side instantly, and he turns you onto your back. There’s pebbles in your hair, and he picks at them one-by-one.

“Peter.” His eyes search yours. “That was so sick.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m…” You laugh till your stomach hurts, and Peter pulls you onto your feet. “I’m great! This is crazy!”

There are a couple of sirens in the distance, breaking your brief moment of excitement. Peter checks his phone immediately to listen to the police radio, and you could almost see the furrow of his brows through the mask.

“Come on. Stay close.”

After a couple of swings and a bit of falling onto rooftops, you were able to get the hang of things. Being able to crash into buildings seemed like the bigger imminent threat than anything, but by watching Peter, you were able to learn from his movements. He didn’t leave you behind once, even though he was supernaturally fast and experienced.

Peter made sure you were still with him at every given chance.

You drop down onto a top of a brick building, breathing heavily with adrenaline.

“Alright, stay up here.” Peter glances over the edge and in the darkness of the alleyway below, he sees the glint of a knife in the hands of a middle-aged kidnapper. There’s a small helpless whimper that echoes beneath, and Peter shudders. He turns to you with skittish feet, hands in front of him. “Whatever happens, please remember the rules.”

“Hey!” You call out to him in a hushed whisper before he can leave. “Kick some ass, honey.”

He blushes, and you notice his muscles relax at the nickname. Then, he’s off and swings into the shadows of the alleyway. You peer off the side, unable to make anything out in the dark.

There’s a clatter. You hear voices, none of them belong to Peter yet. Something crashes against the dumpster loudly, and you flinch with surprise.

You want to jump off so badly, but you control yourself.

Peter could handle it.

Then, there’s a hurricane of shouting and you hear footsteps rushing about. The sound of fists meeting skin sends a shiver down your spine, and you freeze as a scream emerges from a group of laughter.

The scream sounds too much like him.

“Fuck the rules.”

You hop into the alleyway and land atop of the dumpster, almost breaking your ankles at the fall. You’re able to see clearer now, and your shoes meet the ground with a scrape.

A group of big, burly men stand in a circle around Peter. They’re almost three times his size, and they don’t react as you try to stand boldly in front of them.

You count. There’s about four of them, but one is too focused on your boyfriend. His hand is around his neck as Peter tries to wriggle out of his grip. And you realize that with the wrong move, he’d snap it without hesitation.

Your heart races with horror.

“Y/N - Y/N, no. No, please.” Peter’s voice is hoarse, straining his vocal cords as he tries to break free.

For once, you visibly see the fear radiating off of him.

“Hi, boys. How about we let the insect go and maybe just get on with our lives?” You laugh nervously. You’re scared shitless, but they didn’t need to know that.

The men turn to you, realizing that maybe you are a threat.

“You know her, Spider-Man?” One pipes up, gesturing at you with a crowbar.

Oh, lord.

“I don’t have any idea who she is. Leave her alone.”

“What was your name? Y/N, right?” The guy — who appears to be the leader — makes slow strides toward you.

Oh, fucking hell.

“Yeah, you can call me that.” You quickly raise your arm, pointing your wrist at him as a web shoots out. “Or you can shut the fuck up.”

He lurches forward as you pull him towards you. His mouth is webbed shut, and you take advantage of his surprise to web his wrists and ankles. He drops the crowbar, and you take it with sweaty hands to knock him out. He’s unconscious from the impact to his head, and you nearly rejoice before you’re tackled to the ground. The painful groan that leaves you makes Peter scream; the fear that rushes through his veins transforms itself to strength, and he’s wriggled out of his captor’s grasp.

Peter webs him to the wall, pushing the dumpster against him to trap his legs against it.

He swings over to you, where you find yourself wrestling with one of the goons for the crowbar. Peter doesn’t waste any time, prying the guy off of you harshly and throwing him to the side.

Peter’s eyes meet yours in the chaos. You can tell he’s angry. He snatches the crowbar off the ground, and you look away as he swings it repeatedly against the guy’s stomach till he’s out cold.

You stand as Peter flings the weapon into the darkness, sweat beading off his forehead. It’s quiet till Peter shortly gestures for you to swing to the roof before the police arrive.

His back is to you, and you can almost see the steam blowing out his ears. “What was that?” He asks bluntly.

“I… I-I don’t know, but all that matters is you’re safe.” You try to grab his hand, but he tears his away from you.

He’s never done that.

“Safe? No, what mattered was you staying up here and staying out of danger, Y/N!” He blows up and pulls his mask off, and you curl into yourself as tears form at his eyes.

“I handled it.”

“Yeah, fucking barely.” He spits out.

You don’t fight him on it. He’s right.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were hurt, and — and I really panicked here.” Your words mesh together as you explain yourself. “I know I broke the rules! I apologize. I’m so sorry, Peter. I can’t — I was scared something happened and that I… that if I hadn’t got there in time, you’d be gone.”

“If it was you getting hurt instead of me, I would never forgive myself. You of all people should understand that.” He waves his Spider-Man mask at you. His voice is softer, like a plea. “At the end of the day, I will always be able to protect myself. You don’t have super strength. You can’t sense danger before it comes. Y/N, I know you’re capable. I saw it. But, my god, that guy could’ve killed you.”

“I understand.” You nod, attentive. He’s standing closer to you, and this time, he reaches for your hand. “I’m sorry. You can take me home now. I had fun, but I don’t wanna put you through that again.”

He pulls you close to him, and he can smell your scented shampoo through your hair. He shuts his eyes, and he whispers a ‘Thank God’ into your skin.

“I’m sorry I shouted.” His stubble rubs against your face. “I was angry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“It’s okay. You had every right.”

He disagrees. “Doesn’t mean I should yell at you.” You kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Can’t believe you called me an insect, though.”

Peter doesn’t let you swing home the rest of the way. He likes it better like this — you in his arms, as the wind blows through your hair. Safe. It was familiar to him, it wasn’t jarring. He hadn’t a reason to be scared or nervous, because he trusted himself the most when it came to protecting you.

He ushers you through the window of your shared bedroom, and you roll onto the floorboards with the same clumsiness from the rooftop.

Peter laughs, and he tries to forget about the events from earlier.

“God, I’m sore. And I did absolutely nothing.” You wince, pawing the scratches on your face with the tips of your fingers. Peter hisses at you, scolding you about touching them.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He responds with a prideful smirk. He unzips the suit, sitting on the bed as he tucks it underneath in a box. He continues as he puts on an old shirt from college. “I’m still mad at you, but you kicked their asses back there.”

“You think so?” You move to sit next to him on the bed.

“Oh, trust me. I saw it with my own four eyes.” Peter swoons, putting his glasses on.

You snuggle next to him, knees touching as he throws an arm around you. “Thank you for letting me be you for the day.”

“Did you like being me?” He rests his head against yours.

You snicker with a pretend frown, “Yeah, until I got yelled at.”

Peter groans, rubbing his eyes with remorse. “I told you I’m sorry.”

“Mhm, I know.”

There’s a silence that washes over you both. The room is warm, and you feel Peter’s arm flex under your touch. Your eyes can’t help but wander over the bedroom walls, and your heart grows fonder at the sight of you and your boyfriend in the mirror. You feel your lids start to weigh heavy and Peter lightly shakes you awake.

“I think I have something for you.”

The beautiful boy gets up from the bed, and you struggle to sit up as he pads over to his desk. He reaches into the bottom drawer with shaky hands.

When Peter makes his way back to you, there is a unexplainable nervousness in his stance. He’s holding a different kind of web-shooter. Or well, at least the design was new. You hadn’t see it before, and you’re sure it wasn’t on display when Peter was fixing his suit. It was just the left one — black, with chrome red details. It appeared to be a little more feminine, but it was nearly identical to Peter’s original ones. It was obviously well-made and intricately designed. But as you curiously turned it over, onto the side of the cartridge, you noticed the tiniest yet messiest engraving that was a contrast from the sleek aesthetic of the web-shooter.

The handwriting was familiar.

‘Made with love, for Y/N. Yours, Spidey.’

You tear your disbelief away from the device, looking at your boyfriend expectantly. His arms are crossed over his chest, and you don’t miss the tinge of pink in his cheeks.

“What is this?” You laugh nervously.

“I made these a few years ago. On our fourth anniversary.” He pinches at the button of his nose. “I wanted you to have your own for when…”

You wait. “For when?”

“For when I was sure that you’d be in my life forever.”

Peter takes a couple steps toward you. Tenderly, he takes the single web-shooter from you.

His hand envelops yours, and he kisses your forehead before slipping the device onto your wrist.

“What are you up to?”

“You know, people like to say all is fair in love and web-shooters, Y/N.”

You chuckle heartily, feeling a tremble in your free hand. “Absolutely no one says that, Peter.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” He pauses to take in a deep breath. His eyes flicker up to the ceiling, before he makes sure to look directly at you. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll allow me.”

It was the biggest cliché, but it felt as if time was at a standstill. It felt like the whole world vanished, except for you and your lover.

Peter Parker cries quietly as he studies your features, his hand never leaving yours as his thumb draws circles over your knuckles.

“Yes, Peter. Always.” You nod at him, and you start to cry as well when he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I’ll never leave your side.”

He sniffles. “Unless I’m fighting bad guys, then, well… maybe you’ll have to leave then.”

You supposed it was true what people said:

All is fair in love and web-shooters after all.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years

Text

Now I wake up by your side | Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You found your way back to Peter after the memory spell

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word count: 0.6k

Request: Hello, i want “ i love waking up next to you. “ and “ and right now, i think you should kiss me. “ with Peter Parker

** Please keep sending requests from this list

Peter pulled you closer by your waist and pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder, clinging back to the warmth of your body, your mind still half asleep. ''I love waking up next to you. It feels good to no longer be alone all of the time.''

After Peter Parker had been wiped from everyone's memory, Peter found himself completely alone. The loneliness quickly hit and had been tough mentally. What was he supposed to do, now? The people he knew and cared about no longer remembered him - or had died. He had lost his guides, those who he relied the most on and cared the most about. It's like his whole life had been taken from him.

Aside from May, Peter missed Ned and you the most, having been part of his life for longer than everyone else.

Peter and Ned had been best friends since primary school. They got paired together for a science fair and bonded over their common nerd-y interests such as Legos, Star Wars and science.

You had come into the picture right before freshmen year, moving into the apartment right next to the Parkers's. You didn't go to the same school, but Peter and you would cross path in the hallway and staircase every day. It took him a few weeks to speak to you and...even longer to finally ask you out.

He's missed you every single seconds of his life since Dr. Strange had casted the spell. You had been the trigger of many of his crying fits. Peter was an emotional wreck whenever he thought of you. He went from seeing you - and kissing you - everyday to watching you through a bakery's window.

He felt like a fucking creep, looming around you like that. He wanted to stop, he tried, but those few seconds of looking at you were the only way to get some warmth in his cold, grieving heart. Even if it would make him sadder at bedtime.

''I told you if I figured it out once, I could figure it out again.'' You took Peter's hand in yours and kissed the back.

His lips twisted in a beaming smile, bathing in your presence. ''Smart girl.''

It had been a little over a week since you found your way back into your old flame's arms and life. It had been strange, but also so easy. Although your memories of him would never be returned, you felt like you knew him already. A sort of déjà vu.

His touch and his eyes on you felt familiar, yet unknown. You felt comfortable in his presence.

''Can you tell me about us?'' you asked Peter.

Although you couldn’t remember anything of you and Peter’s past, Peter did. You liked hearing him tell you about the two of you. He had this special smile whenever he’d tell a story, a cross between happiness and nostalgia.

''Our first date was disaster.'' Peter laughed embarrassingly. ''I had planned this really cute date on the rooftop of our building, but half way through the date, it started pouring and thundering. We abandoned everything and went inside to change, our clothes drenched from the rain. I tried to fix the night by putting on a movie, but ten minutes into the movie, the power went out. At this point, I was about to cry.''

Mother Nature really had a tooth against him that day.

''Oh no...'' You giggled, wishing you could remember this.

''I was very surprised when you kissed me at the end of the night. I wouldn’t have kissed me.''

You turned around in Peter’s hold and cupped his cheek. ''Maybe the date wasn’t so terrible in the end.'' You rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone and he leaned into your touch.

''Want to know the funniest part? I couldn’t see where your lips were because it was so dark and I almost kissed your chin.''

You both broke into laughter, laughing at Peter’s younger self. ''Thank god you got better at kissing.''

''For my defense, I was fifteen and it was my first ever kiss. I wasn’t very skilled back then and I could’ve used me spider-senses to guide me in the dark, but didn’t understand my them very well so- ''

''Peter!'' His eyes flickered to yours and his rambling stopped. ''Right now, I think you should shut up and kiss me.''

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom!peter parker x reader #marvel prompt #marvel mcu #marvel #tom!spiderman #tom!peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #mcu!peter parker imagine

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doexoeyes · 2 years

Text

Venomed

Summary: What once was a beautiful relationship with Peter, turns quite venomous…

Warnings: Mentions of feeling sick and throwing up. Swearing.

Notes: Ok I rlly love ya’ll, thank you for enjoying the first part of this story. the comments literally make my heart so full & I’d love to continue reading what you think. Thank you for the love & for taking the time to read this, seriously ♡

Part 1 Part 3

Part 2

You wake up the next day with a piercing migraine.

You groan into your pillow before pulling yourself up on the bed, hissing as the ache in your head worsens.

You swear you can hear the veins in your head pulsate, the sound getting louder and louder in your ears. Looking around the room, you realize your vision is getting blurry and you take in another sharp breath, the pain becoming unbearable.

What’s happening? Why are you experiencing what feels like the worst hangover known to man?

You try to relax, try to think about last night, what happened, what could have caused this, but then you remember your anniversary and the Italian restaurant and how Peter broke your heart without a second thought.

Your vision clears up instantly and you find yourself staring at a frame on your night stand displaying a picture of the both of you. Your arms are wrapped around each other, you in mid laughter as Peter is kissing your right cheek.

You don’t intend to do it, you honestly don’t even realize you did it till you did, but you snatch the frame up and chuck it towards your wall, glass shards falling to the ground with a loud crash.

You flinch, completely shocked.

What the…

You slowly get up, eyes focused on the now frameless picture. As you shakily reach towards it, the pain shoots through your head once more and you scream, collapsing to your knees.

It feels like your head is going to explode, the constant pounding of it driving you insane. You feel like you’re dying and at this point you wish you were because the pain is too much. You grab at your head and cry out, mentally praying that it would stop.

“Stop, please stop, please,” you sob, gripping your head desperately.

Then, all of a sudden, all at once, the pain stops.

Like it never even happened.

You gasp, taking in a breath, hand’s falling from your head. You wipe your tears and look down at the picture on the ground again, taking it in your hand.

Your eyes automatically go to Peter and you feel it again, the pain shooting through your head.

You drop the photo and gasp, but it once again goes away as if on cue.

Before you can even process what happened, there’s a deep growl in your stomach and your eyes widen.

You’re really hungry.

Like, the most unbearable hunger in your life and you're up on your feet and rushing towards the kitchen. The takeout container of leftover spaghetti is on the floor, noodles and sauce splattered all around it. You groan, mentally mourning the loss of the delicious pasta, and move to open your fridge, freezer and pantry but to no avail; all you had was a jar of pickled jalapeños, and although you were tempted, you wanted something else.

Your eyes land on an old McDonald’s bag peeking out of the trash.

McDonald’s.

You wanted one of everything.

Stomach growling once more, you change into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee and race out of your apartment.

You come back with 6 full bags in your hands and a tray with four different drinks, not even understanding how you're balancing it all, but doing so quite successfully. Your wallet is screaming but you can’t hear it over the animalistic growls of your stomach. You were sure everyone in the building could hear it.

And if they didn’t, you know at least one person did, because in the exact moment you were about to perform a juggling act to get your keys out of your pocket, Peter Parker steps outside his apartment.

“Hey,” he greets, voice soft and cautious.

His hair is disheveled and he looks utterly exhausted.

You begin to feel sadness make its way into your chest, but as quickly as its forming, it disappears completely and is replaced with pure anger.

You see his eyes take in the McDonald’s in your hands and his eyes widen.

“Wow, you’re, uh…..really hungry,” he points out, and just the way he says it annoys you.

“And you’re very perceptive. Is this what you waste your time in college for, Pete?” you spat sarcastically, brows furrowed.

Peter looks taken aback.

He shakes it off after a moment and clears his throat.

“I came out here because I heard a commotion coming from your apartment this morning. I just…I didn’t want to barge in if…”

“What happened to you staying away from me?” you interrupt harshly, eyes glaring daggers at him.

He visibly flinches but you ignore it, choosing to continue on.

“What, was throwing my heart down the sewer last night not enough? You want to do more damage to me? Why don’t you grab a knife and stab me in the chest then, huh? Well come on Parker, I fucking dare you”.

Once again, he’s looking at you as if you threw an ice cold drink on his face. He looks flustered and hurt and confused, and if you’re not mistaken, you can even see just a hint of fear in his eyes, but the anger you feel for him is blinding and you don’t give a shit if your words are hurting him.

“Y-you’re right. I’m sorry, I….”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, just stands there, taking you in silently before turning around and walking back into his apartment, slamming the door shut.

You stare at his door in silence, rolling your eyes. As you entered your apartment, ready to devour the food you were desperate for, Peter remained in front of his door, shaken up by your exchange.

The look you were giving him…the things you said…

It was so unlike you.

He thinks back to when he had broken up with Gwen, how she was clearly upset at him, but never treated him the way you did. Never did she look at him like she…despised him. And yet, that’s exactly how you were looking at him just now.

His chest feels tight, your words replying in his head.

Why don’t you grab a knife and stab me in the chest then, huh? Well come on Parker, I fucking dare you.

There was a darkness in your tone that he was completely unfamiliar with and it sent shivers down his spine.

He has to confess that since he woke up last night screaming your name, his spider senses had been going haywire. And this morning, when he heard the crash from your apartment, he had to practically nail his feet to the ground to keep himself from barging in.

He doesn’t know what’s going on, but what he does know is that didn’t intend to hurt you. The reason he broke up with you was to avoid that, and yet, he’s starting to think it was foolish of him to think that he could.

Maybe it was inevitable for the people he loves most in the world to get hurt.

Maybe your fate was sealed the day he fell in love with you.

—---------------------------------------

There’s paper bags and empty wrappers stewn all around your room. You’ve eaten absolutely everything and although you were satisfied, once you took the last bite, you were racing to the bathroom to puke.

Once you’re done getting rid of whatever was making you feel so sick, you close your eyes and lean your back on the toilet, taking in deep breaths.

What the fuck was happening to you?

You decide that a nice bath would help calm you down, maybe even control whatever it was that was making you feel so sick. Turning on the faucet, you think about how strange you had been since you woke up.

The pain in your head.

Your intense hunger.

The way you threw the frame at the wall.

How you spoke to Peter.

That one makes you pause.

Why did you say those words to him? Why were you so hostile?

You weren’t going to lie, the breakup made you bitter, and you were very much heartbroken, but at the end of the day you loved Peter and you would never want to hurt him further.

What was happening to you?

You realize the bath is full and turn the water off. Stripping yourself of your clothes, you climb into the tub and sit in the water silently, trying to keep your thoughts quiet.

It’s strange though, because in the emptiness of your mind you can almost hear what you would describe as a muffled voice. You can’t pinpoint what it is, but you swear it’s like someone or something is talking.

You try to ignore it, deciding to lay back and submerge yourself in the water to effectively drown everything out.

It’s when you do that, though, that you hear it.

The voice.

I am Venom. Submit yourself to me.

You gasp in horror, the water forcing itself down your throat.

You immediately sit up, coughing and spewing water out of your mouth. You grip the tub, body shaking as you try to steady yourself.

Just as you're about to process what had just happened, you feel an invisible force violently push you back down into the water.

And the voice speaks once again.

I am Venom. Submit yourself to me. I have chosen you as my host and am near full transformation. Together we will be one.

The voice is deep and menacing and you fight to sit up but you're forced to remain in the water.

The voice repeats the same words and you're pushing your hands up to pull yourself out of the tub but it feels like something is physically keeping you down. You begin to scream, desperate to get yourself up, to keep from hearing the voice, but all it does is cause bubbles to escape from your mouth, water once again pushing in.

You feel the air leaving your body as you use all your strength to escape, water splashing with every frantic attempt as well flooding into your chest and up your nose. It feels like you’re drowning for hours and it’s both terrifying and agonizing, but just as you feel your body giving in to the lack of air, you're suddenly pulled from the water.

You emerge gasping for breath and coughing aggressively, throat burning from the intensity of it. Your vision is blurred but you can tell there’s a figure in front of you, feeling the warmth of their hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly. You can hear the figure speaking but there’s a ringing in your ear that keeps you from fully understanding.

After a moment of trying to get oxygen back into your body, your vision clears up.

Peter Parker is staring at you with wide, terrified eyes, hands gripping your shoulders as his mouth moves rapidly. Although you can’t hear him, you can tell by the look in his face that he’s concerned and frantic.

As you process the ordeal you just went through, something in you snaps and you let out a heart wrenching sob.

Peter’s eyes widen and he drops whatever he was saying and immediately envelops you in a tight embrace, arms wrapped around you completely.

You cry into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, hands grasping the back of your head, fingers caught in your wet hair. Your hearing slowly comes back and you can hear him whispering soft words of reassurance in your ear.

Something else you hear?

The voice in your head, without the need to be under water.

It says it’s hungry.

And it thinks Peter smells delicious.

#imagine #marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel imagine #peter parker imagine #spiderman x reader #andrew garfield x reader #spiderman imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman #tasm imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew spiderman imagine #Venomed

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tinyyoungblood · 3 years

Note

how ab a headcanon where the avengers all take a trip either to disney world or on a disney cruise? i’m a whore for the idea of everyone, especially peter and y/n, just acting like kids again

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

a/n: i like this prompt so much!! i’ve never been to disneyland, but i hope this is accurate enough lol. i also turned this into a vlog bc someone had to record this mess and since it can’t be me, i’m giving filming privileges to bruce

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the avengers in disneyland

everyone is very very excited and the days before they leave pass in a flurry of excitement, but peter has never been to disneyland, so he’s THRILLED beyond means

peter’s jumping up and down while everyone’s loading the van and he keeps asking them if they’re ready for this “life-changing field trip?????”

sam is genuinely afraid that if peter jumps any higher he will bounce off earth, so he grabs peter by the middle and carries him horizontally into the car

steve gave a whole lecture on not getting lost the day before and since tony couldn’t resist it, he is dressed head to toe in neon yellow and grinning cockily

nat steps into the van, sees him, and turns around with her hand over her eyes like she’s been blinded

bruce brings his video camera with him and records everything. first thing they do is hit up a gift shop and it is better than any oscar nominated movie

everything they pick up is subjected to a thorough label reading and some kind of commentary

“steve, show them what you’re getting!!” “slippers” “what kind of slippers” “uh...soft”

thor on the other hand takes it very serious and his commentary ends up being very ~shakespearean~

peter and y/n get matching friendship bracelets for everyone

loki: “i’m not wearing that”

y/n: “that’s alright-“

loki: “no tie it on for me”

bucky wouldn’t have come along if it weren’t for steve and sam, but now he’s taking it upon himself to make sure that everyone stays in good condition so they don’t miss out on training

the whole team gets hourly text messages from him in the group chat

bucky: “There’s a water leak in Mickey’s Toontwon. If any of you slip and hurt yourselves I will kill you.”

y/n: “love you too buck”

(they know it’s his way to express his love for them so every message almost makes them tear up)

loki really wants to go on splash mountain but since he doesn’t want to get his clothes wet, he asks the guards how ~splashy~ splash mountain gets

they don’t take him seriously and it infuriates loki because it’s a perfectly reasonable question but it quickly turns into a passionate argument that holds up the entire line

“I DEMAND TO KNOW HOW HIGH THE RISK OF GETTING WET IS, YOU INCOMPETENT FOO—”

*cue y/n and nat dragging him away while bruce runs after them to zoom in on loki’s pouty glare*

they get him a green rain poncho with black polka dots from one of the gift shops, and he’s still glowering but he puts it on without protest before each ride that involves water

normally the avengers would easily get recognised but since everyone is walking around in costumes, people approach them for several other reasons

thor is just peacefully standing in life, staring at the incredicoaster like it’s the love of his life, when a little kid tugs at his cape

“excuse me sir, why are you so tall?” “good question, why are you so short?” “hmm” “hmm”

they find a micky mouse whac-a-mole and everyone is having Fun but something possesses tony and clint and they are really going for it

tony is a 5 foot tall ball of stress and competitiveness and he is yielding that plastic hammer like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do

clint on the other hand is starting to feel the numbness in his arms

y/n, with sarcasm: “you can do it, clint!”

clint, with spite: “i cannot do it, thanks”

*y/n stares into the camera*

they also make up a rule that if you are in a 5 meters radius of one of the theme park characters, you HAVE to snap a picture with them

steve, who gets constantly shoved nudged by bucky into some character’s path, ends up taking a picture with almost every single disneyland character

at some point, he’s just downright sick of it and there’s a 7 min video of steve zooming across the lot while goofy and woody run after him with wide open arms

bucky is doubled over with laughter in the background while sam is standing beside him and wiping away his own tears

the avengers also buy all the pictures that are taken of them on the rides and even stop at some photo booths so they can send them to wanda and vision who are both vacationing on hawai’i <3

thor, peter, and y/n run themselves ragged and their legs almost give out but they will not stop until they have been on every ride that disneyland has to offer

the others think it’s obnoxious but they follow and join them without hesitation

tony is secretly trembling with fear. doing loops in the air at the speed of light is fine and so is battling aliens, but getting on a rollercoaster ride is just heart-stopping horrifying

it’s not that he doesn’t like rollercoasters, (that man has no self-preservation skills, anything that resembles plummeting to death will be gazed at with big heart eyes) but he just doesn’t trust them

if he didn’t build it or prove it, he doesn’t trust it. period. but the avengers are just so excited and happy that he can’t find it in him to sit out

that quickly results in thor and tony re-enacting very impressive Shouting Contests on each ride without fail

tony is screaming and clinging onto whoever is sitting next to him for dear life because he’s Petrified™️

and thor is screaming, because he’s having The Time Of His Life

he’s feeling the wind in his hair, his heart in his throat, and if he’s not shredding his vocal chords and flinging his limbs around, what’s the point of it all

after 20 different rides, tony is sick of pretending and just trudges through disneyland, the happiest place of earth, like it’s the sole cause of all suffering in the world

nat rejoins the group after she mysteriously disappeared for a moment and her hair is tossed, there’s ash on her face, and half of her clothes are wet

bruce, startled: “where have you been??”

nat, beaming: “there was a ride that spat fire from all sides and people jumped out of nowhere to scare you while the whole place was filled with hot water!!!”

bruce, concerned, zooms in on nat’s excited face

“nat i think you went to hell”

sam is big on merry-go-rounds so he drags everyone with him and while some one them first don’t seem to enjoy it, they change their mind once they see bucky’s little smile

(they go on at least ten more rounds until it starts to get dizzy)

a little girl trips over her princess gown and falls close to where steve is waiting in line, and steve immediately abandons his spot to rush over

bruce zooms in on them bc steve has always been kinda awkward with kids, but here he is, crouching down and comforting that little girl, and it’s so unashamedly soft and sweet

they can’t hear what steve is saying but she’s BEAMING now and even giving him a wobbly courtesy while he claps proudly

bruce turns the camera around and both he and clint are lowkey in TEARS like “why are we crying?? we didn’t even fall down” “i KNOW!!”

nat gets a hold of the camera and she’s on a mission to get the most embarrassing greatest footage possible

“bucky, go stand next to moana” “why?” “it’s moana go stand over there” “but i don’t know-“ “bucky.” *cue bucky, awkwardly standing next to moana while nat grins broadly*

when he’s back with the team, sam just stares at him blank-faced, clearly waiting for bucky to ask why he’s looking at him

eventually bucky caves in with a long sigh

“what” “i can’t believe you don’t know who moana of montunui is. she restored BALANCE to the WORLD. put some RESPECT ON HER NAME”

no one knows why but there’s footage of y/n, thor, tony, and loki strutting up and down in the middle of the lane in minnie mouse plush shoes like it’s a catwalk

sam, bucky, and nat are holding up their fingers to score them while steve is staring at them like he’s analysing their fighting stances

bruce, clint, and peter are standing on the sidelines and cheering them on as they should be

they end their day by digging into an unholy amount of fries that even steve can’t resist because they’ve been walking the whole day

a questionable amount of cotton candy also end ups in their possession and the footage of that is just mostly everyone trying out each other’s cones while the camera is passed between them

soon after, the avengers are back in their van to drive home and bruce zooms in on the row of seats where y/n has her head on peter’s shoulder while the others are also half-lounging on each other, and everyone is asleep <3

* * *

guess what i’m about to say?

stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 5

Harry confronts you with a familiar piece of suspiciously folded parchment, and you tell him the story of how you helped create it (mostly told through flashbacks taking place in the Marauders era).

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 5 .:Narrow Spaces and New Alliances:.

Your eyes drifted open slowly, the bright streams of sunlight coming in through your window strangely unbecoming of 12 Grimmauld Place. It took you a moment to get your bearings as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and remembered where you were. As you sat there, looking around Sirius' guest bedroom, last night's events all seemed to flood back to you at once. You groaned into the comforter, feeling your face burn as you recalled blatantly staring at his lips just minutes after crying into his shirt for at least half an hour.

Come on, get it together, you thought to yourself, you're here because Dumbledore summoned you, stay on task.

However, as soon as that memory left your head another replaced it, this one weighing heavier on your chest. You found yourself thinking back to your encounter with Severus. Well, as much as you could call it an 'encounter.' Even when you couldn't see him, you could feel him when you reached out to him with your mind. Severus was good at blocking legillemency— too good, in fact, because you would know the familiar force of his mental shield anywhere. You'd never felt it as powerful coming from anyone else. You almost laughed at the irony of it; the very thing he was trying to use to keep hidden was exactly what had given him away. That, and the smell of him, which took you back to the moment you'd first smelled that damn amortentia potion. . .

You tried to shake off the thought as you properly got out of bed and changed into some casual clothes. The next Order meeting wasn't until tomorrow afternoon, so you had the day mostly to yourself, but you knew the next time you were all in a room together you would have to address some things privately if you had any hope of working together efficiently. You gently padded down the wooden stairs, the door to Sirius' room still closed. He never was an early riser.

As you reached the kitchen you began to put a pot of coffee on when you heard someone approach the room, stalling in the kitchen entrance. You turned around to see Harry in the doorway.

“Morning,” you grinned, turning back to the counter and using your wand to bring some water to a boil, “Coffee? Tea?”

“Oh,” Harry said, a bit embarrassed you'd caught him in mid-thought, “no, I'm okay.”

“What's on your mind?” you asked.

“Um, I was wondering if you could tell me, I mean, if you have the time. . .” he trailed off, reaching for his back pocket, “well, the thing is, a few years ago I found—”

“Kreacher heard sounds coming from the kitchen and did not expect (Y/n)'s return,” Harry jumped at the house elf's sudden arrival, but you seemed unphased.

“Though master's half mudblood godson remains here,” the elf muttered to himself, “How many more days must it be?”

“Hello, Kreacher,” you greeted him, “nothing nasty about Harry, now, alright? Don't forget he's my godson too.”

“Of course,” Kreacher said, thickly sarcastic but with respect for you in his tone nonetheless. His permanent frown seemed to deepen, however, when he saw you next to the coffee maker. “(Y/n) of house (L/n) should not have to be using the kitchen. Mistress Black would have wept to see a pureblood use muggle equipment. If (Y/n) requires refreshment Kreacher will have it ready.”

“There's no need for that,” you said, “Besides, it's done already, see? You can go on now.”

Kreacher squinted at the cup you poured for yourself. “Always peculiar,” he grumbled, stalking away at your request and muttering to himself all the while.

“He's oddly. . . nice to you,” Harry said, green eyes quizzical behind his round-framed glasses.

“He is,” you chuckled.

“But, well, you're—”

“A blood traitor?” you gave him an easy smile when you saw his expression, easing his fears that he'd actually offended you. “I know,” you said, “he's been through a lot, it's complicated. Trust me, he wasn't always like this to me. It takes time. And it doesn't hurt to be nice to him either.”

Harry decided against bringing up that the nicest person that he knew to the house elf was Hermione, who Kreacher regularly called a 'mudblood wench,' but decided to focus on the 'taking time' part of your statement, wondering just how long this kind of progress took with the spiteful elf. Besides, you seemed to have some sort of history with him.

“Anyways, what was it you were saying?” you asked Harry.

“Oh, right,” he said, reaching back around him, “um, my friends Fred and George, you've met them?”

“Molly and Arthur's twins, of course,” you smiled, “little imps, they are. Those two could give your father and Sirius a run for their money.”

“Right!” Harry said, “well, that's sort of the point. They're the ones who gave me this.”

As you turned around to face him you stalled mid-stir, nearly dropping your mug as you did. Even as a piece of blank parchment you knew what it was, the distinctive accordion folds that met in the center giving it away.

“How in the world. . .” you trailed off as Harry handed it to you, “but Filch—”

“Didn't do a very good job of hiding it, apparently,” Harry finished, “I thought you might want to do the honors?”

You nodded wordlessly, a pang of unexpected emotion hitting you as you pressed your wand to the map's center.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The faded, brown ink showed itself as its protection charm was washed away, revealing the nostalgia-inducing inscription scrawled in your respective handwritings:

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs are proud to present: The Marauders Map

“Do Remus and Sirius know you have this?” you asked Harry, who nodded.

“Professor Lupin gave it back to me third year before he left Hogwarts,” he said, “but he never told me anything about it after that.” he seemed deep in thought for a moment before looking up at you. “If everyone else is who I think it is, you're Fangs, right?”

It was your turn to nod now.

“I always wondered, how did you do it?” Harry said, hardly containing his curiosity, and you couldn't help but think how much he looked like James in that moment. “How does it work? What sort of magic did you use? All the secret passageways, how did you find them?”

“Alright, slow down,” you laughed lightly, giving in, “I suppose there's no harm in telling you.”

Harry brightened at that, bounding into the living room and taking a seat on the couch as if to say 'we've got all day,' which you did. It warmed your heart to see him so excited, this was one of the only ways he could get to know his parents— through the stories that remained from the people who loved them. If you could help the picture of his family in his mind become a bit clearer, you would tell him any story he wanted to know. He deserved that much after everything he'd been through.

You took a seat opposite him, still nursing your cup of coffee.

“Well,” you said, “it's a long story, starting with how bad those lot were at keeping secrets. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Run!” James half shouted half laughed as Filch hobbled after the four of them. Sirius nearly bit his tongue trying to keep in his laughter as the Caretaker slung insults and promises of punishment their way, cat ears and a tail freshly sprouted from his body.

“I can't believe we actually did that,” Sirius cackled, keeping easy pace with James.

“I can't believe you dragged me into this,” Remus panted, his current body not lending itself well to physical activity. For once he actually wished he was a werewolf right about now.

“I don't know if I can keep up,” Peter wheezed, falling behind.

“Oh come on,” James said, grabbing his sleeve and helping him run, “we can out run a gummy-legged old prat like him.”

“I don't know, he's faster than he looks,” Remus pointed out as Filch rounded the corner behind them.

“Damn,” James cursed under his breath, “we'll lose him if we can make it to the one-eyed-witch passageway.”

“We'll never activate it in time,” Remus countered.

“The hallway behind the third floor tapestry?” Peter suggested.

“No, Filch knows about that one now,” Sirius said.

“Why the hell didn't you bring your cloak?” Remus huffed.

“Well getting caught wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, but someone had to let out a laugh before we could get out!”

“Just save your air and sprint!” Sirius hissed.

The extended run time was starting to catch up to all of them now, and when they'd made a wrong turn to a blocked off corridor they thought they were done for.

“Hey, morons, over here!”

Four heads snapped towards the sound of your whisper, but you were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, one of the light pillars began to shift, revealing a large crack in the wall just big enough for them to fit sideways.

No questions were asked with no time to waste, and the four boys clamored after one another so they could fit inside. Your magic moved the pillar back in place just in time, and you watched from your hiding spot as Filch reached the walled-off passage in surprise, grumbling as he looked around for the culprits behind you. You had to stifle a snicker as his cat ears lowered; was that growling coming from the back of this throat or did you imagine that? Eventually he stumbled off in frustration and you sighed.

“Alright, the coast is clear,” you said.

“Why did you help us?” James rose a brow, that signature shit-eating grin back on his face like it never left, “you haven't fallen in love with me since our truce, have you?”

“Dream on, Potter,” you rolled your eyes, pushing him out of the crevice and smirking as he tumbled to the floor.

“It seems like I'm always saving you nowadays,” you said, stepping out of the wall yourself with the rest of the boys following.

Remus was thoroughly confused, looking pointedly between you and Sirius. He knew you and James were pretty much friends now, but he also noticed that the hostile air that always seemed to be present with you and the elder Black had diminished. He'd even seen you two talking in the halls lately. Sirius gave him a look; he would explain what happened in the forest with Lucius to Remus later. Mostly he didn't want to admit that Remus was right about you not being so bad if he gave you a chance; you had actually been getting on pretty well since that night.

“You do realize it's no fun winning the house cup when you four practically make Gryffindor ineligible every year with all the shit you get up to, right?” you chuckled, “some competition would be nice for a change.”

“We'll see if you're singing the same tune when Quidditch season rolls around,” James said smugly.

“You're right,” you said, squaring up against him, “guess that's a new competition we've got going for us.”

It had recently been announced that you and James had both been selected to play Seeker for your respective houses next year. It was an arrangement that had the whole school talking, your rivalry turned (mostly) friendship now infamous, even if it was a recent occurrence.

“Hold on, how did you know that was there?” Peter asked you, pointing to the moving column, “even we didn't know about it.”

“Oh?” you crossed your arms, “and are you four supposedly some kind of all-knowing secret masters? Because clearly there's things you don't know about yet.”

Sirius slapped a hand over Peter's mouth before he could retaliate and give away what they've been working on.

“Yes, well, apparently,” he said, ignoring Peter's muffled protests.

You looked at them curiously, all four boys looking suspiciously nervous.

The next day at breakfast, James had brought up the idea of 'hiring' you to help them finish the map.

“I'm telling you, I think we can really make progress with their help,” he pitched, “they clearly know what they're talking about, and we know they can pull a hell of a prank from all the times they've gotten me.”

“How do we know they won't tell anyone?” Peter countered, “I don't know what's up with you, but you're trusting them too fast, James.”

“They're not the type that would tell,” Remus admitted.

“Oh, not you too!” Peter whined.

“I'm just saying, they'll likely appreciate what we've gathered so far and have a fair bit to add,” Lupin insisted, “it could be worth a try if you really want to finish it before we graduate—”

“Finish what?”

The four boys jolted upright, turning to see you and Lily.

“Are you guys okay?” Lily asked, concern written across her features.

“Of course!”

“Never better!”

“Why wouldn't we be?”

Remus just groaned at his friends' panicked answers. This was hopeless.

You and Lily shared a knowing look off the the side.

“Alright, whatever you say. . .”

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

Harry laughed heartily,

“Wow, I mean, I know you said they were bad, but that bad?”

“For being expert pranksters who hardly ever managed to get caught, they were remarkably terrible at hiding things,” you said, chuckling along with him, “It didn't take us long to figure out they were up to something, although they seemed to think they were brilliant at covering it up, Remus had to burst their bubble eventually.”

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly and imagining all the scenes in his head as you continued your tale.

“So that was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they were hiding. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year, but we'll get to that part of the story later. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1975 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This tastes awful,” Sirius complained, trying to ignore the plant prodding the under-side of his tongue.

“Well if you were expecting treacle toffee I'm sorry to disappoint,” James rolled his eyes, equally nauseated by the bitter tinge of the Mandrake leaf in his mouth.

“There's no way someone can do this for an entire month,” Peter said, “How do you brush your teeth? What if you accidentally swallow it when you're eating?”

“You three have fun with that,” Remus chuckled, flipping through an old library book and his mouth gratefully leafless.

“How about some gratitude, Moony?” James said, “We're doing this for you.”

“Please, you just want to see if you can turn into a dragon or something,” Lupin chortled, “and you don't actually have to go through with all this. Who knows if this animagus stuff will actually work.”

“Well, a dragon would suit me,” James mused, “but of course we're going to see this through, mate. You know we'd do anything for you.”

Remus smiled to himself, not responding and not needing to. He knew.

“Hey guys,” you grinned, walking up to the Gryffindor table.

Peter gulped suddenly in surprise as you came up behind him, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Shit!” he coughed out, “I-I swallowed it!”

“Your. . . food?” you questioned, glancing over at the boys who all had that same, vaguely panicked look about them.

“Okay, it was funny at first, but you guys have been acting weird since last year and now it's worrying,” you admitted.

The four looked between themselves and came to a sort of silent conclusion. Maybe in this scenario it was better to tell one secret to keep the other. And so, later that night, they told you to meet them after lights out so they could tell you what was really going on. You snuck out of your dorm room and made your way through the secret tunnel to the Gryffindor common room, a route you'd taken plenty of times to mess with James.

You pushed a loose panel of wood open, coming into the warmly lit space through one of the cabinets. You pushed an armchair that was half blocking your path out of the way as you crawled through the space.

“Blimey!” Sirius jumped, “give us a heads up, would you?”

“Sush,” Remus scolded him, “you really don't understand the concept of an inside voice, do you?”

“Alright, well I'm here,” you said, brushing off your robes, “now what's this big secret? This better not be a trick because I've been working on a new hex.”

“Nothing like that,” James assured you, “we've been working on something we think you might be interested in, if you're willing to contribute.”

He stepped to the side so you could see the floor where they'd been huddled around and your eyes widened.

“Merlin,” you said. The red and gold carpet was covered in at least forty different pieces of parchment. Pages upon pages overlapped with each other, each messily detailing a different part and level of the castle in scribbles of smudged ink. “This is. . .”

“The entirety of the Hogwarts castle and surrounding land,” Sirius said proudly, “complete with secret passageways.”

“This is our lives' work, (Y/n),” James said, “be impressed!”

“What impresses me most is how none of you have any sense of scale,” you said, sifting through the papers, “you should really condense this. Kind of hard to make any use of a map if you have to flip to page thirty-three to find the kitchens.”

“Point taken,” Remus said, “it could do with some reorganization.”

“And probably a bigger piece of paper,” you mentioned.

“Right, that. . .”

“That's not all there is to it, though,” Peter said, “Sirius?”

The curly haired boy stepped forward, pressing his wand to the center of the floor.

“Revelare Popularis,”

You watched in wonder as hundreds of names suddenly appeared across the pieces of paper, all students and faculty you recognized. They were scrawled in Sirius' handwriting, as if he'd written them himself.

“This spell shows where everyone in any location on this map is at this very moment,” he said, “It's not exact, and we've been working on variations.”

“So you can plan ahead without getting caught,” you mused, “how'd you learn something as advanced as this, Black?”

“I get around,” Sirius shrugged, unabashedly showing off. Peter rolled his eyes.

“So, the only drawback, of course, is that the spell doesn't work in real time,” Remus said, “so by the time you get where you need to go. . .”

“People will have moved,” James finished, “we're willing to share this little trove of knowledge with you if you're willing to give up all the secret rooms, passages, and hiding places you know.”

“And we thought you may have a solution to our timing problem,” Remus said, “I could tell from our study sessions you quite enjoy learning ahead of your year.”

Your eyes scanned the pages, and you were admittedly impressed. There was ton of stuff on here you had no idea about, but you knew a fair amount was missing as well. It seemed like a fair trade.

“I'm in,” you said.

“What?” Peter blinked, “it was that easy?”

“This is a useful tool you've got,” you said, “I think we can all benefit from it being improved. And now that you mention it, I actually do think I've read about a similar spell to that paper charm. It was in some Gaelic tome in the restricted section on ancient magic. I'm not even sure it used a wand. It was called the Homunculus charm. From what I read it sounded like it acted as a live feed for people in any given location, clan leaders used it to plan ambushes and keep track of citizens. If we could link it to the entire castle. . .”

“We'd be able to see where everyone is—”

“And what they're doing—”

“—At every hour of every day!”

“True, albeit a bit stalkerish,” you quipped, “you let me in on this if I add in what I know, and you got yourself a deal.”

James put out his hand, and as tempted as you were to turn it green or make all the bones in it disappear, you reached out and shook it.

“I do believe this puts us in a formal alliance, Potter,” you said cheekily.

“I believe so,” James smirked.

“Terrifying,” Remus chuckled, “This school won't even know what hit it.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” James said with a cheshire grin, “let's steal ourselves a book, shall we?”

Read chapter 6 here!

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @mialupin1

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quicksilverrwrites · 3 years

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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.

Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.

Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.

You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?

Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.

You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.

And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.

What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.

Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—

Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.

As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:

Are you up? Can I come over?

Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.

You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.

When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—

An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.

You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—

Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.

You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—

But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.

His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.

Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”

You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.

Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.

“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”

“No.”

Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.

Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”

You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us."

Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.

You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”

Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”

You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.

“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”

“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”

Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”

“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”

Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”

Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”

You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”

Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”

He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”

His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”

It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.

Is this what he’s hiding deep down?

“Tell me about it,” you say softly.

Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”

Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”

Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”

He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”

“Start from the beginning."

So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—

“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."

Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.

You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”

“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”

Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”

You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”

Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”

Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.

“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”

“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”

Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.

He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.

Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.

“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #xmen imagine #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff fanfic #peter maximoff x y/n #xmen x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver fanfic #xmen fanfic

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crazymangaluv · 3 years

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Nights Like This: Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: NSFW! For ages 18+. Unprotected sex plus fluffiness

Brief summary: It’s peaceful nights like this, with you in his arms, that remind him again how lucky he is to have you in his life. You embrace each other passionately, relishing the love you have for each other.

************************************************************************

You are his solace, his anchor, his beacon of light amongst the darkness. The times when he feels like he’s drowning in the darkness you never fail to pull him out and to breathe life into him again. Before meeting you, quiet nights like this were rare, his inner turmoil never allowing him to fully be at peace. But now, thanks to you, he finally is able to experience true serenity. Nights like this just remind him further of how hard he’s fallen for you. Everything about you, your eyes so full of love, your smile, the way you snort when you laugh...so beautiful. Everyday he wonders how he managed to get so lucky to have someone like you, to love him like you do...what did he do to deserve such an angel?

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your rambunctious laughter. “Haha -snort- Hahahaha! Jason, look! Pffft!” You’re laughing at some memes and pictures Dick and Tim were sending you. However, Jason isn’t paying attention to the pictures you’re showing him, he’s too busy just watching you with such adoration. Of course you don’t notice the way he’s looking at you, you’re preoccupied, still cracking up in near tears.

“You’re so beautiful y/n,” he says tenderly as he gently brushes your hair from your face. You cease your laughter, breath hitching when his hand cups your face. His thumb softly caresses your cheek and his piercing blue eyes gaze into yours intensely, causing all thoughts and words to fly out the window. He leans closer, eyes focusing on your lips and you find yourself leaning in as well. You close your eyes as his warm lips meet yours in a short sweet kiss.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Jason--” you say in a breathless whisper but you’re quickly cut off by his lips sealing yours in a passionate embrace. The way you sighed his name sparked something carnal within him and he had to have more. His mouth moves against yours relentlessly and you respond just as strongly. His hot rough hands travel down to give your ass a squeeze. Taking advantage of your gasp, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

The smell of him, the taste of him, his hands, his muscular body pressed against yours...your senses are on overdrive. You can’t help but moan as he expertly explores your mouth and teases your tongue. Your fingers curl into his soft hair, slightly pulling, which causes him to release the sexiest groan you’ve ever heard. Your already soaked underwear becomes even more drenched and you ache for a release. His wandering hands reach behind your thighs and effortlessly hoists you around his waist. Pushing you against the wall, he grinds his hips roughly against your throbbing core. He detaches his lips from yours to focus on your neck, slowly inching his way down to your collarbone. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life as he nips and sucks at your skin. His calloused hands make their way under your shirt, teasing your perk nipples.

“Jason-” you moan, “please Jason.”

He lightly bites and tugs your earlobe, “Yes mi vida? Tell me what you want…” his breath tickles your ear. “I want to hear you say it.”

You feel his large bulge twitch against you and you bite back a moan.

“Say it y/n.”

“I need you Jason! Please.” You gasp out.

His lips immediately cover yours in a heated kiss. He maneuvers around, carrying you to his bed. He gently places you on the soft mattress and hovers over you. Opening your eyes, you witness him removing his shirt to reveal his well-toned body...my god...he’s utter perfection. Your hands reach up to greedily savor the hard muscles which twitch under your touch. He’s a sight to behold: hair disheveled, chest glistening with sweat, pupils dilated...you instinctively lick your lips.

The things you do to him...laying splayed out beneath him, lips swollen, chest heaving… you look absolutely beautiful to him. Your soft warm hands tickled his skin, but when you lick your lips, he snaps. Reaching out he swiftly tears your shirt with a growl, casting the ruined pieces aside. His hot mouth travels from your neck down to your chest, teasingly kissing everywhere but your nipples, hands inching closer but never touching.

You let out a groan. Such a tease. You want his mouth and his hands everywhere. Your erect nipples yearn for his attention. Before you could voice out your frustration, his mouth latches on, his hand softly cupping your mound as his tongue swirls around your nipple. Oh god...he feels so good. You clutch onto his hair, letting out breathless gasps. His lips move away from your chest, kissing a trail down your stomach to the edge of your pants. He pauses, his smoldering eyes focusing on yours. He gives you a mischievous grin and proceeds to use his teeth to unbutton and unzip your pants. Oh...my...god...you cum right there; he’s just so damn sexy.

He strips you of your pants and underwear with ease, continuing to kiss and suck painstakingly slow towards your throbbing heat. As much as you would love for him to continue, you can’t wait any longer. “Jason--” your breath hitches due to a particularly rough nip. “Please.”

Jason catches your lips in a searing kiss, quickly ridding himself of the rest of his clothes. He positions his cock at your entrance, teasingly rubbing his tip against your throbbing wet hole. Mewling, you press yourself closer, wanting nothing more than for him to just fill you up. With a grunt he thrusts his cock into your hot tight core, stretching you out in a painfully pleasurable way. His deep thrusts bring you waves of ecstasy. Your moans spur him on, causing him to thrust harder and faster. He swallows your moans with his mouth, his tongue entwining with yours. Your fingers dig into his broad muscular back in an attempt to anchor yourself among the shockwaves of pleasure...you’re so close.

Your nails on his back causes him to let out a low groan. You’re so damn sexy and you feel so good. Your walls squeeze his cock tightly...he’s close too.

“Jason...I’m close.”

His lips brush against yours, “Cum for me y/n.”

You bring his head down for another kiss, “Don’t pull out. Cum- ah- inside,” you sigh out.

His hips begin to slam into yours sporadically with increased intensity, teetering you over the edge. Your body stiffens as your orgasm rips through you. Powerful waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. “Jason!” you cry out in pure ecstasy.

Your convulsing walls urge him on and he continues his relentless thrusts until he too is overcome with such immense pleasure. You writhe beneath him as he spills his seed deep inside you...his moans muffled by your swollen lips.

Removing himself from you, he leaves to retrieve a warm wet towel, and ever so gently cleans your drenched sex. Tossing the towel away, he returns to encase you into his strong arms. You lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythmic beating of his heart. One arm wraps securely around your waist while the other tenderly strokes your hair...you sigh in bliss.

“You owe me a new shirt Jason Peter Todd,” you say with a smile.

“Aw, but I prefer you without it y/n.” You feel his chest vibrate as he lets out a husky chuckle. “You can have any one of my shirts, they look better on you.”

Tucking his hand under your chin, he gently tilts your head up. You look up to see his playful smirk. He kisses your forehead, his expression changing from a playful grin to a soft genuine smile, one he has shown only around you. You feel a pang in your heart. You wish he could smile like that more often, free from the shadows of his past. He deserves so much more. You look down, averting your eyes. Your vision blurs from the tears threatening to spill from your eyes...you love him so much.

He was watching you, studying and memorizing your features. He’s completely and utterly in love with you. Being with you makes him feel like he was worth saving after all. “Y/n...hey, look at me.”

You gulp, forcefully willing your tears away, locking your eyes onto his marvelous blue ones. He guides your face towards his to give you a tender kiss. He moves his soft lips against yours. “I love you y/n,” he murmurs.

You smile, “I love you too Jason.”

“I’m not finished with you yet...Ready for round two?” he grins.

Chuckling, you pull him down to capture his mouth in another heated embrace.

#DC comics #fanfic #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #lemons

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step.

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile.

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

#danny phantom #me: makes up a random OC for the sake of the story #also me: oh my gawd sydney oh my goodd im so sorry baby Im sorry #the exciting continuation of Robin gets weirdly existential and peaceful about death #just the image of Danny saving the living then going on to talk to and help the dead he couldnt save move on #it fucking gets me okay?#he really is the bridge hero for the living and the dead alike #i love him so fucking much #well now Im emo for the rest of forever #title from Taylor Swifts epiphany #amazing a story title that DOESNT come from the 18-19th century death poem #i must be mad #Im reading it over again and its like way longer than it needs to be bc I kept adding more and more to sydnees story

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qvid-pro-qvo · 3 years

Text

headcanon: “when the svu boys propose to you”

created in conjunction with @hurricanejjareau. tw: food eating and mentions of food (especially mike and peter’s portions).

rafael barba -

rafael does everything he can to pamper you. so when he texts you halfway through your day with a time and place, it doesn’t even register past another sweet date with your man. what does is the gentle urging when you get home, the smile and light touch moving you to the fancier part of your closet.

“let’s really enjoy tonight, mi amor.”

the dinner is delicious. because of course it is. and rafael is grinning, because of course he is. each time you meet his gaze he’s winking, scanning you, teasing you. and he’s reaching for your hands.

each time he opens his mouth it’s another story, another moment that he remembers with fondness. you both reminisce about the first time you’d caught each other’s eye. and as the candle burns on the table, you see something in his gaze that makes you stop.

“what?” you have to ask. because you think the shine you see isn’t just the warmth in his eyes.

“nothing,” he murmurs. “i just love you.”

it’s a winter evening. your coats scratch against each other, as you walk arm-in-arm. your noses are numb, but the streetlights are bright. it’s a walk he insists on, and your feet step on fresh snow that’s starting to sprinkle on concrete sidewalks.

“i just love you.” he says it again. it’s reverent, as the flakes fall, and you turn to look at him as you walk home.

“hey.” you lean forward, meet his gaze, and then forward motion stops. “what’s going on, rafa? what’s got you looking like that?”

“nothing, nothing —“ he starts again, but you just level him with a look.

“don’t give me that. what’s going on with you?”

the snow keeps falling.

and he just looks. and that shine in his eyes is back, the streetlights bright. there’s no mistaking the way he swallows. the way his arm moves to his jacket pocket.

“i kept... waiting. for the right moment. that moment i could look at you and know exactly how to ask you to —“

he kinda laughs. at himself, you guess. no, you know. because he shakes his head, in that way he gets, the way that has your fingers lifting his chin.

“rafa.”

“i had a plan, mi amor. i promise. a romantic dinner date, at your favorite place. a whole speech, i wrote it down, but... this isn’t a closing on a case.”

he pulls his hand out of his pocket. the next snowflake you see that doesn’t get caught in rafa’s hair is on the red velvet box. it seems to glisten, snd you’re reaching for it before you can stop yourself. mesmerized.

“i’m never at a loss for words. you know that. but right now i look at you and i think there’s nothing i can say that fully gets it across. that could ever help anyone understand how much i love you.”

the box flicks open. your jaw drops.

“i love you. now. always. i promise that. nothing high or low, big or small. nothing... nothing will change that. will you marry me, mi amor? will you?”

the snow flurries down, but that’s not what makes it hard to see him. hard to reach out and manage to grasp both his cheeks in your palms, to pull him in for a kiss that rocks your worlds.

“yes, rafael,” you say. “i do, i will, yes to it all.” and when you kiss him again the cold of the night is but a distant sensation, the snow in your hair barely noticed as you kiss your future husband.

sonny carisi -

you wake up in the morning, a day off with sonny head of you. but instead of rolling over and finding a body to curl around, your fingers connect with a piece of paper.

you can’t help the way your brow furrows and your lips pout. you’d expected a breakfast maybe, but there’s no divine smell filtering through the apartment. all there is this note, and when you pull it to your eyes you squint to read his chicken scratch.

sorry, sweetheart. i know it’s early, but i planned something special for you. get dressed. and meet me at the place we first met.

even groggy, the sight of the note makes you smile. and you rub your eyes as you get up, reading over it over and over as you dress yourself.

you know where he’s talking about. a chance stumble in a coffee shop halfway across town. but when you get there he’s gone, and all that’s there is a note scribbled on a napkin the waitress gives you, her smile coy.

not quick enough. our first kiss, maybe?

you can’t help but roll your eyes. ever the tease. you can basically see his grin as he scribbled it out.

so you go. the courthouse. meeting him outside after a tough case, the way he lifted you. but his friend (and yours) rollins is there instead, leaning against a pillar with sunglasses and a wry quirk of her lips.

those notes take you all across the city. first date, second kiss, first anniversary. you’re thrown this way and that, notes from his team, his squad. you kinda feel the need the apologize, but they don’t even blink.

“it’s sonny,” they laugh. all of them, even barba. “we expect nothing less.”

and all of them seem clued in to something you’re still searching for. because by the time you get to the last clue, his sergeant, mike, seems positively giddy.

last one, i promise, he writes. now. i’ll see you at home. our home.

you can’t help your sigh. of course. and by the time you get there you’re feeling run ragged. it’s cute, the reminiscence, but finding yourself back where you start has your mouth open before you even open the door.

“sonny, while i love the trip down memory lane —“ you start. but any words left in your throat are stole, because before you, your living room is transformed.

it’s still recognizable. the couch you and sonny picked, the tv he begged you for. but in the center of the room is sonny looking taller and more sure than you’ve ever seen him, and flowers seem to cover every surface.

he’s grinning. he’s so - so proud of himself, and you can’t help the gasp as your nose picks up what’s simmering on the stove, as you realize what he’s holding in his hand.

and then he goes to one knee.

“hey,” he says. and that confident lift of his chin doesn’t hide the way his voice trembles. as you love with long strides to his side, to look down at him as he gazes lovingly up at you. “i’m real sorry, but. i had to get you out of the apartment.”

his eyes are teary. you can barely see him.

“it’s okay,” you say immediately. nodding. “it’s fine.”

“i know, but. still.” and he laughs, and you laugh, and when he pops the box open you’re nodding. immediately. “i - i’m here. in our home. and i think about things i wanna do. with my future. and each time i think about it i think about you. there’s no step i wanna take where you’re not there. and i have to ask you —“

you can’t let him finish. you’re already nodding. already laughing, already crying. “yes, yes, yes, yes, sonny, i’ll marry you,” you’re saying, and before you can think you’re on your knees, too, pulling him into a hug.

(the ring is forgotten until later. you’re both laughing and still a little teary when you see it on the coffee table. and it’s another round of “yes, sonny,” that gets it on your finger, finally. as it should be.)

nick amaro -

in another life nick amaro gets shot and comes out broken. in this life, he has you.

he’s here, instead. drying dishes, the laughter of his squad in the other room, and he gets the joy of watching you. gets to watch your little smile, the way you glance at him and shake your head.

“take a picture. it’ll last longer,” you say, and it’s a tease, and he gets to grin and ignore the pain in his knee because you’re here, too. there are aches and pains that are going to last forever, but so is this, and he knows it.

it’s a simple motion. he sets the dish he has to the side. leans from the counter to against you, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other into his pocket.

“you make my life better, y’know that?” his voice is low. you hum, lean back into him, mindful of the lone foot he’s balancing on.

“you say that like i’m not lucky, too,” you murmur, right back, wiping suds off onto your shirt before holding his hand.

he kisses your cheek, then your jaw, chin on your shoulder. and when he pulls out the little box he’s been carrying around for too long he can feel your breath falter.

“nick,” you mumble.

“i’m not - not a poet. i know that. but it’s not poetry to say that i love you. it’s just the truth. you love on my kids, you laugh with my squad, you... you show me what it’s like to see the world with... fresh eyes.”

it’s that simple. the middle of your kitchen, your family behind you, your dishes in front of you. he lifts the lid, and your hand drops to the one he has on your waist, squeezing it tightly, swallowing as you glance up at him with big eyes.

“marry me.”

he watches you. watches your eyes scan the ring, trace up his arm until you’re turning to face him. your hand drops the dish you have, and if he could hear anything but his own heart pounding, he’d know that the other room quiets in an instant.

“nick,” you say again.

“marry me,” he whispers back, “because each day is better with you in it. my life is better with you, and... i never want to let that go.”

that’s all he can say, if he wants his voice is stay steady. but you know the rest. you whisper your yes. over and over. pull him in for a kiss, and the two of you are clinging to the counter because right now he can’t hold you quite how he likes.

and when prying ears become prying eyes, and the box is seen in nick’s death grip, there’s cheers of yeses, too.

mike dodds -

it’s spring.

you both sit on a blanket with wildflowers around, looking at each other in the bright sunshine. there’s a chill in the air, but the sun cuts through it. makes mike’s hair look a little golden, makes your eyes shine.

a day off for the both of you. a rarity, but one you both cherished. usually days off mean nights in, but this day is different. mike has a plan, one he doesn’t share until you park and he has to grin.

“how about a picnic?”

it’s spring.

he looks at you as he leans back on the grass. watches your hand move as you tell him about your week, laugh about something you heard through the grapevine. he watches as you reach for a few berries, pop them in your mouth.

the sun is high in the sky. it’s burning his nose, his cheeks, he’s sure, but that’s not what matters. what matters is that he gets a little closer to you, sits up so he can smile gently, reach for your hand.

“hey, sweetheart. can we talk for a minute?”

you’ve finished your story, but the question still makes you pause. makes your brow furrow as you look at him, but his smile tells you all you need to know. it’s not something to worry about.

“sure, mike,” you say, squeezing his hand. “what about?”

it’s spring. and what is spring if not the buzz of bees, the flower buds, and new beginnings with the ones you love? with the one who makes your heart flutter in your chest, who makes butterflies in your stomach feel as real as the ones that land on windowsills?

“the fact that i love you.” his thumb runs over your skin, and his grin is vibrant.

“i love you, too,” you say back. it’s instinct. easy.

not as easy as this.

“and i’m lucky. because i met someone who saw me past all the pomp, and circumstance, and bad ties, and —“

“i love your ties,” you protest, and he has to lean forward to kiss you. kisses you over and over, until you’re both giggling, so he can slide past the basket and dig his hand in.

“and i love you.” his voice is a little breathless, as he looks at you. “i love the way you make me smile. i love them way you make me laugh. i love you, every inch of you, and the fact that you love every inch of me. you’re home, to me, sweetheart.”

your smile is gone. your face is open, vulnerable, and he has to lean forward and kiss you one more time. “mike,” you whisper, and when your voice cracks, he pulls his hand forward.

“will you marry me?” he asks. and he feels that familiar warmth, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, as his cheeks go a little red, and your eyes widen with delight as the sight of the ring he pulls out of the basket he packed.

you laugh again. bright and warm and a yes thrown in there for the certainty. and when he gets to kiss you again, your back hits the blanket.

peter stone -

“how the hell did we lose that game?” peter groans. it’s about the drama of it, the way he leans on you with an over-the-top amount of pain, because it makes you laugh like that.

“well, i think the long and short of it is that they scored more runs than us,” you tease. peter lifts up, stares agape, and you try and dart away before he pinches your side. you’re unsuccessful. cackle as he pulls you close to blow kisses into your neck. and your delight echoes down the street.

the sun is setting now. summer heat warms metal buildings and the back of your heads as you walk alongside a busy new york street. a walk you’ve made a million times, always ending up at the same spot to get some grub.

always the same spot.

that’s the thing that peter savors with you. the routine of it all. the fact that peter can wake up in the morning and see you, call you in the afternoon and hear you.

building a life with you. step by step. building a routine, step by step.

this walk is different. this walk has peter’s hand in his pocket, a three-fingered grip on the ring he spent ages searching for. you pull him towards the usual restaurant, make the turn, and he follows with ease. he’d follow you anywhere.

the host recognizes the both of you. your booth is open. peter has a flash of that first walk together, the way you grinned and pulled him down on the same side.

“let’s be cheesy, peter stone.”

he remembers that any time he slides in next to you. this time, included. it’s cheesy, to keep his hand tangled in yours, to blow kisses onto the side of your neck to make you laugh. it’s cheesy to pull you against his side and feed you a piece of something from the appetizer. it’s cheesy as hell to look at you and see everything he wants for the rest of his life.

but he loves it.

loves you.

he reaches into his pocket. holds the ring like a good fastball, tight grip, thumb running against smooth velvet. he feels his heart pound, blood roar in his ears, as the sun lowers behind the new york high-rises.

“hey,” he murmurs. you’re both tired from the time out in the sun, the feeling of hot plastic seats, three hours and eight innings. but his voice is low for another reason, as he leans close and sets the box gently in front of you.

your fingers holding his grip him. reach for his thigh, and hold that, too. “peter —”

“home is new york, and you, because you made it that way. hope is baseball games and late night dinners, and... this booth because of you. i’ve - i’ve lost so much, but gained so much more because of you. i love you. i’m in love with you. and i always will be.”

you’re leaning against him, now. your grip is no longer tight, but firm. he glances down and sees your little smile, the single tear that he swipes away.

“i want to marry you. will - will you let me?”

the lid pops open. but the ring isn’t the focus. the focus is your hands on his jaw, now, pulling him in for a kiss and murmures yeses against his lips.

tag list: @duchesschameleon // @writefasttalkevenfaster // @altsvu // @ssaic-jareau // @encounterthepast // @mijop // @bureaudart // @1234-angelika // @nuvoleincielo // @wanniiieeee // @averyhotchner // @barbasbodaciousbeard // @caracalwithchips // @xxlovingfandomsxx // @mad-girl-without-a-box // @alliekenner

#law and order: svu headcanons #rafael barba x reader #sonny carisi x reader #nick amaro x reader #mike dodds x reader #peter stone x reader #rafael barba #sonny carisi #nick amaro #mike dodds #peter stone #my fic #red :)#headcanons #gender neutral reader #tw food mention #tw food

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doexoeyes · 2 years

Text

Firsts

Summary: Your firsts with Peter Parker (or the beautiful calm before the inevitable storm that came with dating Spider-Man.)

Note: why yes, my love for Andrew’s Peter has also been reignited by No Way Home. this is part of a small mini series of imagines all based around this set up and continuing to NWH. Will probably be a total of 3 to 4 parts. I just want to establish the emotional connection between you both so we can all ugly cry together.

Part 2:

It was fall and the leaves were red & the air was chilled and to him, it was perfect photo taking weather.

Camera strapped to his neck, he snapped away at twisted tree branches and pieces of orange sky when his lens focused on a big, golden haired dog. Kneeled beside him was you, hand fluffing up the dog’s fur in happy pets, and Peter couldn’t help but instinctively zoom in on your face. His finger went straight to the trigger, having caught a photo of you mid laughter.

Normally Peter would be against taking a photo of someone without their permission, but it was almost as if something had taken over him, like he just had to take the picture.

Maybe it was the pretentious photographer in him that preferred candids over a predetermined pose, or he was getting tired of shooting dead branches, especially when a genuine smile like your’s was just waiting to be captured in an image. Whatever it was, he didn’t expect to see you waving at him once he moved his camera away from his eye.

Great, you caught him.

He blushed, a guilty expression plastered on his face as he awkwardly waved back.

Your hands signaled him to approach you, and he took a breath as he made his way over.

“Hey, was it a good shot?” you asked immediately, a brow raised and an amused smile painting your lips. From the view point of his lens, Peter could make out that you were a pretty girl, but now, in person, he was almost stunned by how beautiful you were. Your eyes peering up at him from your lashes captivated him almost immediately.

“Umm, yea, I’m sorry about that. I should have asked for your permission. I’ll delete it…” he explained rather nervously, hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, it’s ok! I’m flattered actually. Is it ok if I check it out?” you assured him, flashing him a warmer smile.

Bashfully showing you the photo on his camera, you went on to give him your phone number, asking for a copy to have of your own.

“This is Shaggy, by the way. You can pet him if you want. He loves making new friends.”

Peter leaned down to pet Shaggy, smiling at him.

“Hey, nice to meet you, Shaggy. I’m Peter.”

Your smile grew as you watched them both, Shaggy wagging his tail excitedly as Peter had found his favorite spot; right between the ears.

Your eyes then focused on the tall, brunette boy, realizing that not only was he kind, but also extremely cute.

You tried to keep yourself from blushing, clearing your throat

“I’m y/n, by the way,” you said, and his eyes instantly met yours.

Beautiful brown eyes behind squared framed glasses.

Oh gosh, you were a goner.

“Nice to meet you too, y/n.”

He ended up sending you the photo as soon as he transferred the images to his laptop. He insisted that it was because he didn’t want you to wait too long, but he knew it was because he wanted any excuse to continue talking to you.

From then on the conversations continued, growing into talks about each other’s interests and lives (and how Shaggy was indeed named after the Scooby-Doo character, to which Peter laughed and said “oh you just had to name him after the non-dog character to be different, did you?”)

It was safe to say that you both developed little crushes on each other.

The first time Peter Parker asked you out was a couple days later. After texting and calling nonstop since meeting, he finally got the courage to ask.

“Hey, there’s a photo exhibit happening downtown tomorrow. Do you maybe wanna go with me?” he asked.

Laying down on his bed, facing his ceiling, he held his breath as he awaited your answer.

Little did he know, your heart nearly stopped at his question.

Was he asking you out on a date?

You bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming out an overly excited ‘yes’, choosing to go the ‘cool girl’ route.

Calm, effortless. Making sure not to make it a big deal by labeling it said ‘d’ word.

“Um, yea, sure. Sounds fun,” you said, hoping it sounded cool and collected on his end despite being the exact opposite of how you felt.

Peter immediately pumped his fist up, thrilled at your acceptance.

“Ok, cool. I’ll pick you up at 4:00?”

“Sounds like a date,” you said, before slapping a hand over your forehead immediately.

Crap.

You said the ‘d’ word.

Before he could even respond, you took it upon yourself to explain further.

A terrible mistake.

“I mean, like, you know. A friend date. Not like a…not a real date, cause I’m sure that’s not...”

“No, I want it to be,” Peter interrupted immediately, surprising even himself.

He didn’t want you to be confused by his intentions. He liked you, really liked you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think that he saw you as ‘just a friend’.

If he was being honest, he didn’t think he could ever be ‘just a friend’ to you.

Your eyes widen, face warm as you quickly stuffed your phone under your pillow, letting out an excited squeal that you could no longer hold.

“Y/N?” you heard your mom call out worriedly from outside your door.

“It’s ok, mom! Just…stubbed my toe,” you said, embarrassed she had heard you.

Ok, breathe. Be a cool girl. You’re a cool girl.

You lifted your phone from under your pillow back to your ear.

“Okay, cool. I’m totally down for that. So tomorrow at 4 it is.”

Little did you know, Peter heard you squeal at the other end of the phone, including your ‘stubbed toe’ excuse and he had to stifle his laughter so as to not make you suspicious.

His chest filled with warmth and he was beyond giddy at your reaction. You were actually ecstatic to go out with him. Never did he think he would get that kind of reaction, especially from someone as amazing as you.

God, he was a goner.

“Perfect. See you tomorrow,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

The first time Peter Parker kissed you was that very same night. After the exhibit, you grabbed some slices of Joe’s Pizza (“The absolute best pizza in all of New York,” Peter had stated in a tone that amusingly sounded more like a fact than an opinion) and then headed into a small local ice cream shop for a scoop of..

“Strawberry ice cream,” you both had said in unison when the server had asked what you would like.

You both turned to each other and laughed, beaming smiles plastered to your faces.

The server couldn’t help but smile too.

“You both make a very lovely couple. How long have you two been together?” he asked.

Peter scratched at the back of his head while you looked down, not wanting him to see your, at this point, tomato red cheeks.

You both decided to share 2 scoops of strawberry ice cream, taking it to go as you continued your night time stroll.

“Ah crap, he only gave us one spoon…” he said, turning around to go back inside.

“I’m ok with sharing,” you said quickly, causing him to turn back around.

“I mean, if you are,” you added, eyes avoiding his in the fear of him looking at you strangely.

He looked down at the ice cream cup in has hand for a moment before grabbing the spoon, offering it you.

“One spoon for two it is,” he said with a small smirk.

You took turns before it turned into both of you feeding each other, giggling as it progressed into a tiny food fight.

“Ha, now you have some on your nose,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him.

He laughed, taking the spoon back from you and lightly smeering a bit of melted ice cream on your cheek.

“Now we’re matching,” he said, mimicking you as he stuck his tongue out.

You giggled, finger wiping at your cheek.

“Oh, wait, you missed,” he said, reaching his hand out towards your cheek as his thumb gently wiped at the smear.

Your breath caught in your throat as his skin made contact with yours. Just this small, innocent action was enough to send shockwaves throughout your entire body.

His thumb lingered on your skin, the rest of his fingers joining to caress your cheek. His eyes then landed on your’s and, if you weren’t frozen in place just yet, you definitely were now. You watched in palpable silence, heart beating rapidly, as you awaited his next move.

“You have really beautiful eyes,” he voices softly, face leaning closer to yours.

At this point you could feel his breath on your face and without thinking about, you leaned in closer as well, your faces less than inches apart.

“Is this ok?” He had whispered, mouth grazing your’s as his eyes closed instinctively.

You nodded, wanting nothing more than for him to move just a tiny bit closer.

“More than.”

His lips met yours, soft and warm and kind and perfect, and you practically melted into him.

You half expected an Elvis song to play and end credits to roll. It was that perfect.

The first time Peter Parker said he loved you was coincidentally the first time you found out he was Spider-Man.

You started noticing Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses, but when you had asked he said he got ‘contacts’. You also noticed how he was surprisingly stronger than usual.

It’s not that he was particularly weak before, but you start noticing the change in someone’s capabilities when they slam dunk a basketball and break the hoop.

Like literally smashed the whole thing on the floor.

Although you and Peter didn’t go to the same school, word quickly made it to yours how the the nerdy kid from rival school Midtown High jumped across the court and destroyed a basketball hoop, glass shards everywhere.

“Are you on steroids?” you asked him seriously, causing him to choke on the sandwich he was currently eating.

You both held the tradition of eating at the Starlight Diner every Friday after school. You would wait on the steps of Midtown High for Peter to be dismissed, and make your way to the diner hand in hand, you on his skateboard as he helped guide you to the direction of the restaurant.

“What? No, of course not! I just…I’ve been working out more.”

“Where? In Superman’s gym? ‘Cause you pretty much need super human strength to do what you did, Peter.”

He playful rolled his eyes at you, chuckling under his breath.

“Oh ha-ha, look at you with the quips. Maybe your dad is right, maybe I am a bad influence,” he teased, but you remained straight faced with him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I can tell when you’re bullshitting me, and you’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

He pauses mid bite, realizing your seriousness, and places his sandwich down on the plate, brow furrowed.

“Whoa. Y/N, what are you…”

“You’re always leaving in the middle of our hangouts, coming up with excuses like ‘Aunt May wants you home early’, when I know that’s not true because I called her the other day, when you left, to apologize for keeping you out so late, and she said she didn’t mind and to tell you, since you were still ‘out with me’, that she needed you to bring home a gallon of milk.”

“Not only that but you’re acting different. You’re more on edge, less rational about things. I mean, humiliating Flash Thompson like that? Sure it sounds funny and he definitely deserves it but that’s not something the Peter Parker I know would do. In fact, you’ve been doing a lot of things you wouldn’t typically do. And I guess I wouldn’t mind if you would just tell me what the heck was going on. You used to tell me everything, Peter. What’s changed?”

It all flowed out of you like a waterfall; weeks of pent up frustration and worry. You didn’t even realize that your eyes were glossy, tears threatening to spill.

But Peter did.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Y/n, baby, please, it’s ok.” He leaned forward to reach for your hand on the table but you pulled back, shaking your head.

“No. It’s not ok,” and his heart breaks at the hurt in your tone.

“I don’t even know you anymore,” you state, and a tear finally makes its way down your cheek.

Before he can even lean forward to reach for you again, you stand up and move out of the booth you shared.

“Where are you going?” Peter asks, and there’s a lump in his throat that you can hear in his voice.

“I need some time. Oh wait, no, that’s too honest of an answer, sorry. My mom wants me home early,” you said bitterly, eyes looking straight into his before you turned around and walked straight out of the diner, the bell at the door alerting patrons of your departure.

Peter swallowed, eyes remanning on the spot where you once sat.

He fucked up and he knows it.

He comes up with a plan to make it up to you and later that night he stands on your windowsill, knocking on the glass.

You go to check out the strange tapping noise and almost fall backwards in shock once you draw your curtains and come face to face with Peter.

“Oh my god, Peter! What are you doing here?! Be careful, you’re gonna fall!” you say frantically, ushering him in.

He can’t help but smile lightly at your worry; at least it seemed like you still cared about him.

“Y\n, I’m really sorry about how I’ve been acting lately. You’re right. I’ve been acting weird and lying to you about it and you don’t deserve that. I tell you everything because I trust you more than anyone in the entire world. And if there’s anyone I can trust with this, it’s definitely you.”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was talking about.

“Peter, what are you…”

“Wait, let me show you please,” he practically begs you with his puppy dog brown eyes and you feel obliged to accept.

As weak as it might make you seem, you could never say no to Peter.

You nod, and he smiles at you, grateful.

“Ok, this is gonna sound weird but I need you to hold onto me,” he said, and you automatically raise a brow.

“Is this an excuse to get me to hug you? Because you don’t deserve a hug right now,” you said with a suspicious brow raised and Peter has to keep the laugh bubbling up his throat from coming out.

Sometimes you were too cute for your own good.

“Trust me. This is going to explain everything.”

So you do as he asked, wrapping your arms around his neck, to which he wraps an arm tightly around your waist.

At this moment you almost immediately accept his apology, despite him not explaining much of anything. You were so head over heels for Peter that just him holding you like that was enough to forgive him.

He interrupts your thoughts.

“Hold on tightly ok? And please, whatever you do, don’t look down.”

You frowned, now more confused than ever.

“Don’t look down? Down from wh-“

Before you can even finish your sentence, you’re both suddenly launched out the window, 0 to 60 in half a second.

You scream loudly, high pitched & full of absolute fear. Your hands tightened their grip around Peter’s neck, eyes looking around frantically as you passed by tall trees and giant skyscrapers.

Peter laughs, giving you a soft squeeze as he reassured you of his hold.

“I got you, don’t worry. Just remember what I said about not…”

You let out another hysterical shriek, nails digging into Peter’s skin as you scrambled to get impossibly closer to him, having caught glimpse of the city below you.

Too late.

“...Looking down.” Peter hissed in pain at your nails.

Damn they were sharp.

Finally he landed you both on top of a building and you gasped once your feet touched solid ground.

“You’re good, it’s ok. You survived,” he says, but you don’t let go of your tight grip on him.

Your breathing is still rapid and your eyes are looking wildly around you before landing on Peter’s face in front of you.

“W-what, h-how….” you’re out of breath and you still haven’t recovered from the shock and fear.

“This is what I haven’t been honest with you about, and what I know now I should’ve from the start,” he confesses, hands making its way to your cheeks.

His warm hands on your face immediately help steady your breathing, allowing you to process what had just occurred.

You weren’t simply flying over the city, you were swinging. Peter was swinging you both with some strange substance coming out of his arm. Like a web of sorts.

Your eyes widen in realization.

“You’re Spider-Man,” you state, breathless, and his eyes never lose contact with your’s.

You can see him swallow silently. He was nervous. Whatever happens next was completely in your control.

“I don’t want to lose you, y/n. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’d be stupid if I lost you all because I was scared of telling you the truth. More than just my girlfriend, you’re my best friend, and I….I trust you with my whole life. So I’m trusting you with this secret. I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but right now I need you to know that I….”

He gently rests his forehead against your’s.

“I love you.”

His words echo in your head and your chest finally stills.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the anger you felt about him lying. Not the fear as he swung you over the city. Not even the fact that he was freakin Spider-Man.

All that mattered was how much you loved Peter and how he felt the same way. It, along with the many overwhelming emotions you felt that day, was enough to cause tears to roll down your cheeks. To which Peter wiped away immediately.

Before he could even apologize, you pull him down to you by his shirt collar, smashing your lips on his.

He’s taken aback at first, but immediately closes his eyes and practically breathes new life into you as he kisses you back eagerly, hands resting on your lower back.

These were the firsts of many memories you and Peter shared. Times where you were the happiest. Times that you’ve both replayed in your head whenever you felt like nothing was going right. Times that you strived to recreate together every moment that you could.

But, as he stared out the window of his dark and lonely rundown apartment, empty liquor bottles piled on the floor, dried tear stains on his cheeks, he wished more than anything that he could have shared more with you.

#tasm imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #the amazing spiderman x reader #andrew spiderman imagine #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #spiderman nwh #marvel #marvel imagine #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #spider man imagine #spider man x reader #sm nwh #imagine

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ilovedainironfoot · 3 years

Text

They meet a human with dwarfism, how do they react ? ( the not-whole Company + Gimli + Dain + Thrain + Thror)

( none of the gifs or pictures are mine )

for @tolkien-fantasy \^o^/ based on THEIR POST

if I offend in what I have written, come and tell me :) so that I can correct, apologize proprely and not make the same mistakes :D

( This is Peter Dinklage an actor who played in Games of Throne, The Station Agent, Threshold, Nip/Tuck, Underdog, Narnia Prince Caspian, I think we are alone now AND many others films, he gives his voice in many animated films, and won some Emmy Awards. That guy is epic !)

Thorin

-He already felt betrayed by the Elves and didn't have the humans in his heart, knowing that a handicap was named after his kind doesn't help matters

-he is even more reluctant to help humans

-and every time he has to be in negotiations with one of them he makes it clear

-”Oh, you need weapons? It's a pity that we don't provide the traitors and hypocrites with them.”

-he doesn't know how to behave with you. He may know that you are human, but your small size makes him feel comfortable with you and he wants to treat you as if you were one of his people.

-he doesn't know if it offends you when he treats you as one of his own

-after a while he offers you a place in Ered Luin, where your small size will be anything but a handicap or whatever the humans think

Balin

-he has already heard about this

-he sees it as a kind of mistake that Aulë made

-that Aulë originally made you one of his children, but that he accidentally put the child with the humans

-then it doesn't matter that you are human, that you don't know anything about dwarf customs, about dwarf history, he considers you as a dwarf

-the fact that the humans called it "dwarfism" is for him a proof that they also understood that Aulë had made a mistake

-he tells you what he thinks about you and your so-called "disability

-he will be happy to teach you everything there is to know about dwarfs

Dwalin

-he thinks you are an Orc, that all this is a trick of Azog

-you can't be human and look like a dwarf it's impossible for him

-he is convinced that you are trying to gain their trust and then betray them

-it is when he understands that his words have hurt you and you start to cry that he apologizes and tries to understand better

-he didn't like humans before, but when he learns that a disability was named after the people he belongs to, he hates them completely

-it's a good thing he didn't have to talk to them much because all he says after that is "Fuck you” to them

-if you are complexed by your disability he will be even more angry against humans

Oin

-he has already seen and spoken with humans with dwarfism

-he tells you, crying with laughter, about the first time he met a human-dwarf as he calls them

-he doesn't totally share Balin's idea that you will be a lost child of Aulë but he considers you as one of his kind nevertheless

-he is very comfortable with you and does not mince words when he tells you what he thinks of this so-called "disability" and what he thinks of humans who perceive it as a handicap

-”Look at me! I'm as small as you are and that's no reason why I can't beat a man in a fight!"

-he proudly tells you about all the times he broke people's knees, family jewels and other places of the human’s body

Gloin

-”Hey! There's a dwarf that got lost!"

-he thinks you are one of them, that you have been separated from your group/convoy for an unknown reason and that now you live with humans

-as he is Oin's brother he has already heard of humans-dwarfs but he has never met one before

-”If you don't like your life with humans, I adopt you”

-he sends a letter to his wife telling her that he has adopted a half-dwarf

-he shares Balin's idea that you are a lost child of Aulë but as you are technically a human he calls you a half-dwarf

-in any case as long as you don't live with the dwarfs he calls you that

-is he angry that humans have named this handicap after them? yes

-but he would rather take care of you and make you feel better or teach you about dwarf life than stay focused on his anger

Dori

-he is desperate for humans

-”They named a disability after us? By Mahal they are even dumber than I thought."

-he doesn't even dare to imagine how you were treated by your fellow men

-he is not even angry, he is simply dismayed. He knew that humans could be untrustworthy or disrespectful at times but this is unbelievable

-he doesn't even take the time to think about it for long, he absolutely wants you to tell him how you feel so he can take care of you

-he does not believe that you are a lost child of Aulë but that does not prevent him from taking you under his wing

-He is your mom now

Ori

-he is so confused at first

-you are not a dwarf but you look like a dwarf but you are a human but not as tall as human and your disability is named “dwarfism” but you are still a human ?

-angry to learn that the disability is named after his kind

-all the humans he meets are afraid when they see his murderous look and death glare

-you become siblings very quickly

Nori

-learning that a disability has been named after them makes him angry

-to take revenge he commits many robberies and thefts in the human cities in your company

-he teaches you everything he knows about stealing correctly and without ever getting caught

-your duo becomes the worst nightmare of humans because you have fun leaving lots of clues and false leads but no one can get their hands on you

-he teaches you to use your small size to your advantage in a world of large sizes

-for once his big brother Dori totally agrees with what his little brother is doing and encourages both of you

Bifur

-he will take a long time to understand that you are not a dwarf

-he will be confused when he speaks to you in Khuzdul and Iglishmêk and you will not understand

-he insists in spite of everything! Maybe you have lost your memory and will eventually remember your language?

-after long explanations with Oin he will eventually understand that you are human

-it won't change much for him

-you were one of his before he understood the truth, and you remain so after

-and even if he is a little reluctant to teach you khuzdul as he did when he thought you had lost your memory, he will eventually start again

Bofur

-he is surprised to meet a human with dwarfism and like Dain he thinks that you have been raised by humans but that you are one of them

-he has a little trouble understanding at first why it is seen as a disability

-he is not angry with humans, only confused and saddened that they would despise his kind so much after all that the dwarves have done for the humans

-he teaches you to fight with a pickaxe

-he often forgets that you are not a dwarf when he tells you a joke that only dwarfs can understand

Bombur

-as soon as you say your name he has already adopted you

-he finds you a bit skinny for a dwarf and makes it his mission to fill you up

-his mission does not change after he learns that you are human

-you still need to eat to be strong

-he doesn't care at all that humans have named a handicap after them

-the important thing is you, and that you feel good

Gimli

-it's been months since he's seen one of his own, so when he sees you he goes straight to talking about Erebor and what he thinks are your people for both of you two

-it is with embarrassment that you tell him that you are human and not dwarf

-he apologizes, he really apologizes, he is afraid to have offended you

-in spite of everything he asks you how it is that you are his size when you are a human

-when you tell him that you have dwarfism, he does not understand, he is confused

-“Does this mean that you are half dwarfed by one of your parents?”

-”No, master dwarf, it's a handicap that humans sometimes have. We are born with it.”

-never had Gimli uttered so many insults in so many different languages as when he learned that a handicap was named after his people

-he wants to know the name of the human who gave the name to this handicap and show him what his axe thinks about it

-after his moment of fury you become good friends

-sometimes he forgets so much that you are human above all that he speaks to you in Khuzdul

Dain Ironfoot

-you are not a human child but you don't act like a dwarf either

-the logical thing for him is that you are a dwarf adopted by humans, that you grew up among them, were raised among them

-it makes him terribly sad to imagine that you have never known your true people, your true customs and traditions, the songs and the forge and your language

-then he greets you with a headbutt and knocks you out, to his great dismay and incomprehension

-you have to tell him at least three times before he understands that you are human and have a handicap called "dwarfism“

-”So...humans think that being a dwarf is a handicap? I will tell them what I think about their bullshit !”

-if humans thought they could get away with it they were wrong

-after that he won't really wait if you agree or not, he will drag you to the Iron Hills, cover you with gold and jewels and offer you the best clothes he can find

-he won't try to change you or make you a dwarf , all he wants is to offer you a place where your handicap will never be one

Thrain

-the first time he sees you is when he is walking through the town of Dale after an important meeting with the king of Dale

-The first thing that jumps out at him is your clothes and he is surprised to see that you are wearing human clothes and not dwarves clothes

-he is even more surprised to see that your hair is not styled like that of the dwarfs

-even if he has mistaken you for one of his own, he senses that something is not right

-then he comes directly to you

-When you tell him that you are indeed human and that you have a disability called dwarfism, he is a little offended

-"Are you telling me that being a dwarf is seen as a handicap by humans?"

-he is not angry with you, even if his reaction may make you think so, he is just angry that humans are so hypocritical

-Like, they are under the protection of the most powerful of the Dwarf Kingdoms, helped, protected and prospered by a descendant of Durin, one of the sons of Aule and all they do to thank them is to name a handicap after them ????

-the word “insulted” is not strong enough to describe what he feels

-he is so angry that he goes straight to the King of Dale's office and confronts him with the situation

-he absolutely wants to know how you are treated among humans

-he yells that from now on you are officially one of his people and that humans can go fuck themselves for a very long time before a new alliance is made between Erebor and Dale

-after what has just happened he comes to you and asks for forgiveness if he has embarrassed you and offers you a place in Erebor

-he officially adopts you as one of his own children

Thror

-the first time he saw you was when you came to his city, it was when the human ambassadors of Dale came for his help

-he was quite intrigued to see a dwarf in the company of humans

-as he took you for one of his own, he spoke to you first. He thought the humans chose you as their ambassador, what better way to negotiate with a dwarf king than one of his own?

-imagine his face when one of the ambassadors answered that you had a “disease” called "dwarfism" and that you were indeed human

-and to see his blue eyes become cold and icy, the ambassadors quickly understood that they had just said a huge bullshit

-In a calm and composed yet threatening voice, Thror asks them to repeat their phrase: "Did you just tell me, gentlemen, that you named a 'disease' taking inspiration from MY KIND ?"

-it seems that the negotiations start on the best conditions :D

-the ambassadors try to catch up as they can but it's too late, Thror sends them back and not in the most diplomatic way possible

-but not you. He wants you to stay and talk with you.

-you both talk for a long time about who you are and your life among humans

-for him it is a sign that Aulë has recognized you as one of his children long before you were born and that your place is here if you agree to stay living in Erebor

-since you know the human world so well, he makes you his ambassador for all negotiations that affect the human cities around Erebor

-he adopted you as soon as he laid eyes on you and now makes sure you learn to fight properly and everything there is to know about dwarf culture

-even though he understands that you were born human, he addresses you as one of his own and talks about "your" customs and "your" traditions when he talks about the dwarf culture

-if he hears a single dwarf questioning what you are, that dwarf will be summoned to the throne room

-he behaves with you as with any of his own. If a human or an elf insults you, it is all the dwarves that this human or this elf has insulted

-the human ambassadors have to beg for very, very, very long months before he agrees to receive them and start negotiations (but there again it will be very, very long and painful negotiations for them)

#the hobbit #thrain #thror

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years

Text

World Tour

Sirius Black x reader, band AU

Words: 12k

Written for @slytherinquill‘s writing challenge!

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a band AU for so long now and here it is! I worked really hard on it and I so hope you like it!

Never in your whole life had you thought that you would get where you are right now; rushing through the airport with no one less than James Potter, the guitarist of the world famous band The Marauders.

You had been a fan of them for years, ever since they started. You watched them grow from little teenage boys doing covers on YouTube to the twenty-four year olds they were now, selling out arenas. The aforementioned James Potter and his electric guitar were a golden combination, Remus Lupin mastered the art of playing the bass, Peter Pettigrew never missed a single beat on the drums and then you had Sirius Black. Lead singer. He looked like how you would imagine one; thick, black hair, angelic bone structure, mysterious eyes and a voice like a child of the devil and an angel. To say that thousands of girls were just fan of him was an understatement.

Even you bore a little crush on him. But how could you not? The man was a god.

How you ever ended up in this situation was still vague to you. Not because you didn't know what had happened but because it all went so fast. Just a month ago you were still in your own apartment, plucking on your guitar, contemplating whether it was all worth it. You had been making music for years now and you had never had your big breakthrough. Though your friends and family told you that it would come and that you were a wonderful singer and your songs were amazing, you had been close to giving up. It was then that James reposted an Instagram video of you singing their song She's not mine and everything blew up. Your Instagram got a boost and the comments wouldn't stop. The Marauders' management hit you up, asked you to record a song with the men and a week later you were a big star.

The experience with the four men in the studio was something you had never done before. You wrote your songs in the safety of your bedroom, where all the failed ones never left. Now you suddenly had been surrounded by four professional artists plus another three songwriters. The song was written in three days, the title Don’t rush assigned to it, and recorded in two. The sixth day was a day for rest, that you had spent at Remus' house with him and Peter. You had gotten to know the men better. You had learned that James had an obvious crush on the manager's assistant, Lily, that Peter lived with his parents because he didn't see the need of buying a house when he was away all the time, that Remus had learned how to play the bass from his grandfather and pictures had shown that that man was the embodiment of rock'n'roll-grandfather, and that it was Sirius who had come up with the idea of starting a band.

The seventh day had been release day. The song came out at midnight and you had anxiously waited at home with your roommate, Tiffany, until it was time. She had been the biggest fan of the song at the first note and when your voice synchronised with Sirius' she had started to cry. She had kept on playing the song, while you got phone calls from your family and friends.

To promote the new song you and the boys had visited radio station after radio station. You had existed on coffee that day; you had promptly fallen asleep in your living room at three in the morning, while Tiffany was still gushing over your song and the fact that you had met The Marauders, and you had to be at the first studio at 6 AM. Coffee had been your saviour.

Interviews were something you had never done before, just like anything you had gone through that week. At the first radio stations, the boys had taken you under their wings, helping you with answers and pushing you in the right direction. Over the day you had learned how to act in interviews and how to laugh away questions, an useful skill you had noted as the interviewers had asked you about your personal life.

You had thought that that would be it. Or at least, that the song would be the end of your collaboration with The Marauders. They had explained to you that they were going on tour just three weeks later and that maybe they would invite you to one of their shows.

Of course you had been a bit sad to see it end there. In just that week you had grown to like those men a lot. You had spent a lot of time with them and your personalities matched. It was easy and fun to hang around with them.

So when the week was over and it had been time for you to get back to your normal life, that you thought would never be the same again, you had spent the first day home with Tiffany, telling her everything about your experience. You had stayed on the couch with her the whole day and fell asleep late at night, relaxing for the first time that week.

However you relaxation had not been long. The next morning you had gotten a call that had turned your life upside down and was the reason why you were at the airport now;

You were going on tour with The Marauders.

‘What took you so long?’ Remus asked, tilling his suitcase on the counter of the check-in desk.

You panted and bowed forward to catch your breath. James patted you on your back and brushed it lightly. ‘I lost my lock.’

‘You lost your lock?’ Remus said and he turned away from the lady behind the desk to see if James was serious.

The lady behind the counter watched the back of Remus’ head impatiently as this one burst into laughter and shook his head. Peter, who had noticed that the lady was looking rather grumpy and might have realised that she wouldn’t get any happier by the fact that there were more suitcases coming, pushed Remus back to the desk.

Meanwhile you had caught your breath and were standing straight up again. You pushed your suitcase behind Remus and stood next to him, waiting for him to finish with checking in his bags. ‘We lost it somewhere on our way and James wanted to get it back.’

‘How good a lock can it be if it fell off?’ Peter asked, raising his eyebrow so high that it disappeared behind his blond hair.

‘It wouldn’t have fallen off, if someone didn’t bump their suitcase into mine!’ James whined and he looked at you.

‘It was not my fault! You suddenly took a turn! What was I supposed to do? Jump over it?’ you asked sarcastically, sending James a smile.

It was your turn to check in and while you smiled at the grumpy lady, you apologised for making such a scene. She just shrugged and said nothing as she continued to weigh your suitcase and then pushed it to the space behind her desk, where the bags disappeared to be loaded into the airport. She handed you your boarding pass and then called for the next one.

- - - - - -

The air in the airplane was cold. You hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater and wrapped your arms around your body. You were sitting next to the window and you looked outside. The plane had to take off yet, but you already felt the nerves rushing through your body like you always had when you were in plane. Not that it happened that often, but enough to recognise the feeling.

It was still early in the morning. The skies were just turning blue and there was dew on the windowpane. The first rays of sun broke through and the windows of the airport-building reflected the orange light.

You figured that this wouldn’t be the last time that you would be on a plane this early. Another city every day, or every two days, meant that you would be travelling a lot. But something about the cold and humid morning air was refreshing. The promise of another great day rose with the sun.

However, despite the fresh air and the rising sun, you were tired. You hadn’t slept a lot last night; Tiffany had thrown a little bon-voyage party and had invited your friends. Before the party you had had dinner with your parents. Your mother had cried tears of happiness as she had said goodbye and you just had hoped that was because she was happy for you. Your father had made you promise to him that you would be careful around the four men. You had laughed and told him that nothing would happen with them, but you had promised him, since you feared he wouldn’t let you go if you didn’t. The party Tiffany had thrown wasn’t big; just a few friends, but it had lasted till late at night and you had had to be at the airport at four o’clock.

Your sleep schedule was completely messed up and you feared that it wouldn’t go back to normal for a while.

The voice of the pilot sounded through the airplane and you were pulled from your thoughts. His calm voice soothed none of your nerves, instead only made them worse. You clasped the fabric of your sweater in your hands and took a deep breath as you closed your eyes.

‘If you’re scared of flying, we have a problem,’ James’ voice sounded next to you and you opened your eyes at him.

‘I am not scared of flying, don’t worry,’ you said, your voice quivering a bit. ‘I’m just nervous and excited for everything.’

‘I get that,’ James said, nodding his head. ‘I remember our first time going on tour. Remus knew the whole planning by heart and he took every opportunity to tell us it. Peter cried when he had to say goodbye to his parents; they’re very close you know?’

‘I heard,’ you said and James looked surprised at you. ‘He told me when I was at Remus’ a while back.’

‘Oh, right. Anyway, he cried and we did not hesitate to mock him about it. Poor guy had a terrible first day,’ James chuckled and his eyes glistened with mirth, ‘Sirius was nervous too, but he wouldn’t show it. To this day, he still thinks that we didn’t hear him whispering motivating words to himself before the show-’

‘I wasn’t!’

Sirius, who sat in front of you and James, turned around and looked at you through the space between the seats. You giggled and rested your hands on your thighs, not in your sides anymore.

‘You were!’ James cried out, while Sirius shook his head. ‘I clearly remember you telling yourself that you “could do it, because I am good”.’

Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again. He shot James an angry glare and then turned back around in his seat, starting to talk to Remus. You looked at James and smiled. ‘What about you?’

‘Oh, I was nervous too. But I kept myself together quite well, if I say so myself.’

Remus and Sirius snorted in front of you and turned around in their seats. Their faces, as they looked at James like he had just told a joke, made you chuckle. James made sputtering sounds, but Remus cut him off before he could say anything.

‘He held my hand the entire flight and was so nervous for the first show that he forgot his lyrics in the first song.’

‘Remus!’

You laughed and nudged James playfully. ‘Come on, it’s funny! It could always be worse…’

‘What do you mean?’ James asked and Remus and Sirius looked curious at you. You shrugged and played with the sleeves of your sweater as you answered.

‘When I had my first performance, I threw up right before I had to go on stage. I had to play three songs while smelling like vomit.’

James and Sirius burst out into laughter and Remus shot you an apologetic look. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched James wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye. For a moment you had forgotten about the take-off and when you looked outside you realised that you were already in the sky. The airport was left behind and you watched the city get smaller and smaller with the seconds.

The little scene down on the earth had your attention until the plane flew into the clouds and you could see nothing but white. You turned back to James, who was watching a film on the little screen installed in the chair in front of him. He mouthed along the words of the protagonist as this one spoke.

You fished your earbuds out of your pocket and put on your music as you turned back to look outside. You pulled your knees up to your chest and closed your eyes for a second as the melody took over you.

Music always had a way to make you feel all the emotions at once. For you it wasn’t just a way to pass time, it was something so much bigger than that. Ever since you were young you had been singing. You had driven your parents crazy, though deep down they were happy to see you passionate about something at such a young age. Any music you could get your hands to, you would listen to. Your mother had dozens of records and you always asked her to play them. Often your brother had complained because he wanted to listen to different music than you. But with your angel eyes you could always win your parents for you.

Guitar lessons had seemed like the most logical thing for you. You had enjoyed learning the chords and soon you could play guitar better than your father, who had been trying to learn how to play for years then. At twelve you had started to write your own songs. Back then they were simple songs with simple lyrics about that one boy crush you had had. As you matured, so did your songs with you. More often they were about the things you felt and the darker periods in your life. Many times your mother had said that you had gift to turn emotions into words.

At the age of sixteen you had recorded your first cover. You had posted it on your Instagram account and then the anxious waiting had begun. A week it had been before someone had commented saying that you had a great voice and that they wouldn’t be surprised to hear more of you. You had been euphoric. After a month you had ten comments, all good ones. The second video you posted was a cover of a song of The Marauders; Lies are fine. It was, at the time, your favourite song of them and to this day the song held a special place in your heart. Again you got some good comments, but for the first time in your life, you had read that someone didn’t like your voice. Now you were quite good at handling hate, but back then it had been enough to break you down. For a month you hadn’t sung and your friends had to show you all the good reactions for you to realise that it was just one opinion.

Ever since you had started to sing your own songs, you had felt liberated in a way. It was easier to sing your own words than someone else’s. The hate had gone on, of course it had, but you had built a wall in front of it. Only a few times something had broken the wall down and then it was patched up quickly again.

You had grown strong over the years and music had formed your life.

- - - - - -

The first place was New York. Management had wanted to start the tour with a big show. Two nights the band would perform at Madison Square Garden. The venue had been booked full both nights. There was not a single place left.

There was one day to install yourself in the city and to get used to the big stadium. You arrived in the city just as it was waking up. Cars were already driving like maniacs over the busy streets and you feared for your life as you looked out of the window of the van you were sitting in. Cars drove by fast and close. The so typical yellow cabs were the worst; driving almost straight into the sidewalk to stop for people and then racing away as soon as the passenger had taken their seat.

The driver of your van wasn’t much different either. He took sharp corners and only stopped abruptly for red lights. With ever turn he took you were pushed out of your seat, one time against the window, the other time against Sirius, who was sitting next to you.

As the driver took another turn, you shifted so you were practically in Sirius’ lap. You placed your hand on his leg not to fall over and his hands caught you.

‘Watch out, darling,’ he smirked when you pushed yourself back to your seat.

‘It’s not my fault that guy drives like he’s got a death wish,’ you grumbled and pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. Sirius laughed and shook his head as he watched you shoot an angry glare at the driver’s head.

‘So got any plans for today?’ you asked, turning your gaze away from the man and looking at Sirius. ‘Other than checking out the venue?’

‘Not really,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘Why, do you got plans?’

‘My plan is to drop dead on my bed and sleep for the rest of the day,’ you said. ‘Care to join me?’

‘I don’t think there would be much sleeping when I’m in bed with you,’ Sirius smirked. ‘There’s no way you can resist me.’

You laughed and shook your head. ‘I don’t know, I seem to be doing fine now.’

‘That’s only what you think, darling. Deep down you’re burning with desire.’

‘Huh, so it seems…’

It was like this with all Sirius’ jokes around you. The flirtatious tone, winks, nicknames. You knew he was only kidding, but still the jokes made you get hot on the inside and a little flustered. You tried to comment back on him, but that didn’t work all times.

The van stopped at the hotel and the driver, much to your surprise, as you had thought that he would drive off the second you stepped out of the vehicle, took your suitcases from the back of the car.

Together with the boys you stepped into the luxurious hotel. The floors were white marble stones and on the ceilings hung golden chandeliers with crystals that sparkled in the sunlight that came through the big window at the front of the building.

It was a surprise to you how the hotel wasn’t loaded with fans yet. From what you had always heard, fans would find out where artist were staying before even they knew. But there was no one on the streets and not one of the people in the lobby looked up when your group walked in.

Your footsteps echoed in the silent hall. You felt utterly underdressed in your sweater and black jeans as you looked around you and saw women in neat dresses and men in suits. You tried to fix your hair, which you feared was peeking out on all sides. Your fingers untangled a tiny knot while you listened to the manager talk to the receptionist.

‘Alright, your rooms are on the fifth floor. Two to six. Tonight we’ll go to the venue but I’ll text you the details,’ the manager said and handed you, Sirius, Peter, James and Remus a room key.

Your room was number six, on the corner of the building so you had windows on two sides. It was by far the most luxe hotel room you had ever stayed in and you were a little disappointed you would only stay here for three days. Though it wasn’t a massive room –it only existed of a bathroom and a bedroom with a small corner where a big chair stood –it looked like everything, from the rug on the floor to the paintings on the walls, was more expensive than your apartment.

You opened the curtains in front of the windows that lead to your balcony, that was connected to the balconies of the others, and the light washed over the room. It was only ten in the morning, but sleep took over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. You didn’t even change; all you had done was take off your shoes.

- - - - - -

Anxiously you sat in the dressing room, staring at yourself in the big mirror that covered one side of the wall above the dressing tables. The round, yellow light bulbs that surrounded the mirror were reflected in your eyes.

You were nervous. More nervous than you thought you would be. The silence in the room only added to your anxiety. The boys had been called away for a moment, to take a last view of the stage before the stadium filled with fans.

Your phone lied open on the sofa next to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone through Twitter, but you just couldn’t resist. There were a lot of people wishing you good luck, but you also saw some tweets saying that taking you with The Marauders on tour was the worse decision they had ever made. Doubts had started to play in your head and now it was all you could think about in that silent room.

Luckily the silence was broken when your phone started to ring. Scaring up from the sound you almost fell of the couch as you looked around the room to see what it was. Quickly you noticed your phone and a feeling of relieve washed over you as you read your roommates name on the screen.

‘Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU AT THE VENUE YET? ARE THEY THERE?!’ Tiffany yelled through the phone before you could even say hi to her.

‘Nice to talk to you too, Tif,’ you laughed. ‘I am at the venue actually. The show’s in two hours.’

‘I know, I wanted to talk to you before all the madness begins. How are you holding up?’

‘Nervous. What if I mess up? What if I forget the lyrics? What if I do something embarrassing on stage? There are so many people who will see it.’

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ Tiffany said. ‘You have had performances before and the guys wouldn’t have asked you if they didn’t think you were any good.’

You sighed and smiled to your phone, though Tiffany couldn’t see it. You asked about home and while Tiffany started to tell you about your friends, you heard some noises coming from the hall. Not two seconds later, the door of the dressing room burst open and a laughing James and Sirius entered, followed by Peter and Remus, who had a smile on their face, but weren’t as much laughing as their two friends.

You took one glance at them and then turned back to your phone, catching Tiffany’s last words. ‘…so now I have to visit her parents, while she is away with Jason. Can you believe it?’

‘What can I say, I always thought she was weird,’ you answered and only now the boys seemed to notice you were on the phone. They silenced and watched you as you awkwardly continued to talk to Tiffany. ‘Just be careful around her, okay? I don’t want to see you all caught up in her things, when she is out having fun. You’re better than that.’

‘I know,’ Tiffany sighed and then there was a silence. ‘Well, call me tomorrow, okay? I want to hear everything!’

‘I will. Goodbye, I love you,’ you said and put down your phone after Tiffany had said her goodbyes too.

The four men were looking at you expectantly, but you ignored their looks and walked to the corner of the room, where a little fridge stood, to grab a bottle of water. You felt their eyes pricking in your back and when you turned around you were met with four staring gazes. You suppressed a smile and sat back down on the couch, next to Sirius.

‘So, everything settled for later?’ you asked, taking a sip from your water.

You met Remus’ eye and he noticed you were teasing them. Everything about their faces told you that they wanted to know who you just told ‘I love you’ to, but you wouldn’t give in so easily. Remus shot you a smile and then started to talk about the stage, taking the other three’s attention of the cause for a while.

It was only an hour later, as James, Peter and Remus were out checking their instruments, the subject of your phone call came back. You were walking up and down in the room and Sirius was lying on the couch, his eyes focused on his phone. You were softly rehearsing your text one more time, as the nerves were making their way up to your throat now. You feared that if you didn’t find a way to calm down soon, you would not even be able to sing.

‘Who was that on the phone?’ Sirius asked out of nowhere, startling you in your walking.

‘Why?’ you asked, tilting your head to the side.

‘Just curious who the subject of your love interest is.’

‘Don’t be jealous, you know you’re the only one,’ you smirked and grabbed an empty water bottle. Your fingers played with the label on it for a few seconds and then you threw it away.

‘No boyfriend then?’ Sirius asked and you stared at him for a minute before you shook your head. ‘Come sit,’ Sirius ordered while he pushed himself up from the couch and patted the empty space next to him. Hesitantly you sat down next to him. ‘I won’t bite,’ Sirius laughed. ‘Unless you’re into that of course.’

You blushed and shook your head, not able to keep the scoff inside your mouth. Staring at your hands you took a deep breath. Sirius’ gaze was focused on the side of your face and when you breathed out he placed a hand on your back, rubbing it lightly. You felt butterflies fly up in your stomach and you closed your eyes for a second.

‘You don’t have to be nervous, darling. You have a beautiful voice, you fit really well with the group and not to mention you’re gorgeous,’ Sirius said and his hand kept still on your back. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you smiled, looking up to Sirius as you opened your eyes again.

‘Thank you,’ you whispered.

‘And if that doesn’t help, you can always imagine everyone naked. That helps in all situations,’ Sirius added with a wink, his eyes gliding over your body for a second.

‘I’m going to strangle you,’ you said with a laugh, pushing Sirius away from you.

‘Is that a threat or a promise? Stop confusing me,’ Sirius said, his smirk evident on his face. You got up from the couch and walked to the door, swaying your hips exaggerated and throwing your hair over your shoulder as you looked back at him. His eyes were focused on your bum and you smirked as you stepped through the door.

‘Whatever you want it to be, dear,’ you said before disappearing and your smile grew at hearing Sirius sigh as his body hit the cushions of the couch.

- - - - - -

The crowd was cheering and yelling as The Marauders played a song from their newest album, Disaster. You mouthed along the words while you stood backstage, watching the band play from the side. They performed with such a passion and love for their music that you couldn’t but smile. You had seen their performances countless of times online and you had been at a show once, but that was four years ago. In those four years they had grown from teenage boys to men. Their style had matured with them, but still their music had something that had been there from the start; passion.

‘You’re up next,’ the stage manager told you and pushed you to the stairs that lead to the stage. You wrapped your hands around your waist and took in a deep breath. Someone pushed a microphone in your hand and pushed you even closer to the stairs, so you were almost standing on them now.

‘Our next song is one we’re particularly proud of,’ Remus said and from your place you could see James trying to calm the crowd down a little. ‘It’s something we have worked hard and specially fast on.’

The crowd eased a little and you felt your heart beating in your chest. This was it; the moment you had been waiting for ever since you started writing music. A big stadium filled with people who wanted to listen to your song.

‘Please welcome to the stage the lovely Y/N!’

With fierce steps you climbed the stairs. The view that came to your sight as you took your place next to Sirius was something that you already knew nothing in your life could top. Thousands of people cheered, yelled and screamed your name. There were lights from phones and cameras everywhere and you were blinded as a spotlight was placed on you.

Anxiously you turned to Sirius, who was standing next to you and he gave you a smile and a wink. You relaxed and even dared to smile at the crowd in front of you. You could hear the screaming of hundreds of girls somewhere in the section closest to the stage and you chuckled lightly, remembering what it was like to stand there and be so close to your favourite band.

‘You ready?’ Sirius mouthed at you and when you nodded he looked at Peter over his head, who started to tick his drumsticks to the beat of the song. The bass joined in and you forgot about the crowd as the tunes of the song you had worked so hard on the past month filled the stadium.

‘Don’t you think about me tonight

I’ll still be there in the morning

In the sunrise we’ll reunite

Our heads empty and dark inside’

Every last nerve that you had disappeared as the first words left your mouth. At the first verse, the crowd was totally silent, never having heard you live before. But when you sang the last word of the verse, they burst loose and the screaming filled your arms, likely to be remembered for a lifetime.

As you looked at the people in front of you, you realised why singers loved touring so much. The adrenalin that filled your body before now had turned into excitement and utter happiness as you heard all the people sing along with you. The words left your mouth without thinking and you interacted with Sirius as if you had been doing so your entire life. His grey eyes were what you were focused mostly on as you sang the words of the chorus together, your voices synchronising in a way no one had ever heard before.

‘Don’t rush

I will wait for you

Take time

Leave your love behind’

You smiled at Sirius and he smiled back at you, the first honest and happy smile you had gotten from him and you were enchanted. All his smiles had been smirks and sarcastic grins till now, but this was a sight that was just as impressing as everything that was happening around you. And as Sirius took over and his smile disappeared as he sang further, you realised that you would anything to just see that smile again.

‘So just take your time

Cause I’ll wait for you’

The last notes sounded through the stadium. Sirius took you in his arms and lifted you off the ground as he spun you around. You laughed relieved and excitedly and pressed a kiss on Sirius’ cheek when he put you back down again. The audience screamed like it was the end of their life and you felt like crying, so happy.

- - - - - -

The sunlight was shining through the curtains in front of the windows. It was still early in the morning. Early meaning 6.30 AM.

The alarm on your phone woke you from your sleep. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes and searched with your hand for the phone on your nightstand. Your hand passed various objects before it found the phone. With a sigh you turned off the alarm and plummeted back in your pillow.

The high of last night still hadn’t fully disappeared and when you thought about it, you still got butterflies in your stomach. It was surreal to you to see the thousands of people in that concert hall, all singing along to a song that you had helped writing, that you were singing.

And maybe the high would have stayed all day, if you didn’t have to get up so early in the morning. But you would not complain. You were on tour with a world famous band. This was your dream and if that meant getting little sleep and early mornings, then so be it.

An interview had been planned for eight o’clock, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes earlier. Another sigh escaped your mouth as you got up from your bed and stumbled to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, you didn’t even look so bad for so little sleep. The bags under your eyes were not even that dark and though your hair was a big mess, you looked like you had at least a six hour sleep. Which you hadn’t.

After the show, the boys and you had had a little party with the crew to celebrate the first show. It had been fun to learn everyone better. You had talked to Lily, the manager’s assistant and the girl James had a crush on. She was really nice to you and you hit it off well. You laughed with her at James’ lame attempts to ask her out, what made James a little annoyed as he was sitting close to you and listening to your conversation.

The hot water of your shower relaxed your muscles. You let the warm water stream over your face, the drops rolling over your cheeks and nose. You washed your hair and when you breathed in the scent of your shampoo that was spreading in steam through the whole bathroom, you were in a different world for a moment.

You were so deeply concentrated that you didn’t hear someone entering your room, until the person knocked on your door and you were startled from your daydream.

‘Who’s there?’ you asked loudly, making your voice clear over the running water.

‘Sirius,’ the answer was.

‘Hold on a minute!’ you yelled and finished your shower.

As the water was turned off a silence filled the bathroom. You reached for your towel and dried your body as quickly as you could. You turned around to take your clothes and then you realised that you had left them in the bedroom, since you had not expected any company so early in the morning.

Cursing under your breath you wrapped the towel around your body and brushed your hair so it looked at least a little presentable. You unlocked the bathroom door and barefooted you walked to your bed, where Sirius was sitting, playing with the remote of the television.

You tried to ignore the blush on your face as you made your way over to your suitcase and took your clothes out of it, your back to Sirius. You could feel his gaze on your body as you bowed forward to grab a shirt.

‘What’s up?’ you asked, killing the awkward silence.

‘I was wondering if you were awake yet,’ Sirius answered and he quickly averted his eyes when you turned back around.

‘I was,’ you said and you smiled at Sirius. You walked back to the bathroom to get dressed, but let the door open so you could talk to Sirius.

‘So how’d you sleep?’ Sirius asked, his voice echoing on the tiles of the room you were in.

‘Fine, little, but good,’ you mumbled.

You informed after Sirius’ sleep and after that a silence fell over the two of you. You were doing your make-up in the mirror, not having your shirt on yet in case you’d drop your mascara, which unfortunately happened more often than you liked, while you listened to the news anchor talking about a robbery in a local supermarket.

The silence was broken by your phone that had started to ring. Your hand flinched at the sudden sound and the brush of your mascara shot up against your skin, making a big black stain below your eyebrow. You quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned the black make-up from your face as the phone kept on ringing.

‘It’s yours…’ Sirius said from the bedroom.

‘Gimme,’ you muttered, lowering the towel from your head. You left the bathroom and walked to where Sirius was sitting with your phone in his hand. Immediately you recognised Tiffany’s picture on the screen and you smiled to yourself. You took the phone from Sirius and raised your eyebrow at him as he was staring at you. It was only then you realised that you were wearing nothing but a bra and pants. You scoffed and pushed Sirius back on the bed, making him flash his smirk at you. You rolled your eyes and answered your phone.

‘Y/N, YOU’RE ALL OVER THE INTERNET!’ Tiffany screamed through the phone. ‘HAVE YOU SEEN IT YET? I’M SURE YOU HAVE! YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!’

You chuckled at your friend’s enthusiastic voice, that was so loud Sirius probably had heard it too. ‘Tiff, Tiff, relax please,’ you eased her. ‘Listen, I have to get ready, so I’ll give you to Sirius for five minutes, alright?’

‘y/n, don’t you dare-’ Tiffany started, but you had already given the phone to Sirius, who had his mouth open when he got the phone from you. You gave him a smile and disappeared in the bathroom again.

Continuing with your make-up, you listened to Sirius talking to Tiffany, who was probably going to kill you when you got back home. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Sirius laughed a few times and by his words the conversation seemed to flow quite easily.

Once you were totally dressed, you got back to the bed and sat down next to Sirius who quickly gave your phone back.

‘Love, it’s me again,’ you said and Tiffany sighed relieved.

‘y/n, I swear, the next time I see you…’

You laughed, while you put on your shoes. Catching Tiffany up with what had happened last night, you walked with Sirius to breakfast.

‘Your friend’s a handful,’ Sirius said after you had hung up on Tiffany.

‘She is, but she’s wonderful and has been nothing but supportive ever since I met her. I couldn’t wish for a better friend,’ you said as you stepped into the hall where they served breakfast. You sat down next to James, who was already sitting there with Remus.

Sirius sat down next to you and poured you coffee from the can that stood on the table. ‘I’ve got to say, I am a little disappointed you decided to put on a shirt, darling,’ Sirius grinned and next to you James choked on his orange juice.

‘Excuse me?’ he coughed.

You patted him on his back and shook your head. ‘Nothing, Sirius just can’t get the picture of me in my bra out of his head.’

‘I don’t think anyone ever could, dear.’

‘Sirius, please,’ Remus said. ‘It’s breakfast. Save your jokes for later.’

‘And how is it a joke, Rem?’ Sirius asked looking at his friend over his cup.

- - - - - -

‘Welcome back to Sirius XM, where we are currently joined by no one less than The Marauders and y/n, who is joining the band on their tour! Their new song Don’t rush, is out since a month and last night was the first show, kicking off The Marauders’ world tour. We have all five of them in our studio!’

The two radio hosts, whom you had learned were Raj and Marshall, sat on the other side of the table. You sat on the far left with Remus next to you. Since the studio wasn’t exactly built for five guests, you and Remus had to share a microphone, just as Sirius and James had to. The only difference was that you and Remus were both mature enough to let each other talk, while Sirius and James kept pushing the mic in the other’s nose.

‘Peter, starting with you. Are you excited for this tour? Any cities you are looking forward to visit?’ Marshall asked.

‘I am really excited for tour, yes. This album is something we worked really hard on and I think I speak for all of us when I say that this might be the best we have written so far,’ Peter answered, a smile spreading on his face as he talked about the album. ‘That being said, I am looking forward to every city we will visit. Every show is special and every crowd is awesome.’

‘Remus, Peter says this album is your best yet. Care to weigh in?’

‘I agree with Pete. We poured our heart and soul into this album and I really love how it turned out in the end. This music is different than our previous albums, but I think that doesn’t make it any less better. These songs are more about ourselves, about our insecurities and fears, but also about our happy moments.’

‘It’s our up and downs,’ James chimed in and Remus nodded.

‘Yes. And I think that is the beauty of it. It has something that everyone recognises. Nobody’s life is perfect and nobody lives on “ups” alone. We wanted to create something that shows that’s it’s okay to feel down or scared. It is okay to be insecure, because everyone is,’ Remus said and the other three boys nodded.

‘y/n,’ Raj said. ‘As a listener of the album, someone who didn’t know the thought behind the album, did you feel the same way when you listened to it?’

‘I did,’ you answered. ‘I first listened to the album alone at midnight, when it was released, and I am not ashamed to say that it definitely brought me to tears. I really think the guys got the message across.’

Remus nudged you thankfully and you smiled at him, as Raj asked Sirius and James about a particular song. You listened with interest and smiled at the passion that the men had as they talked about their music.

‘And then y/n came into the picture, working with you on Don’t rush, which is a banger by the way. y/n, how was it working with the band?’ Raj asked.

‘It was all very new to me. I am used to writing songs on my own and now there were suddenly a lot of people around me. But it was an experience I will never forget.’

‘Did you have a lot of influence on the song?’

‘I think we all equally contributed to the song. The meaning behind it is definitely one that I recognise. We all tend to rush into the things that seem exciting and in doing so we often forget the way we get there. It is important to take your time and I think the song described that perfectly.’

‘James, how was working with her? What was she like?’

‘She was such a good person, not like us,’ James grinned and Sirius sniffed. ‘It was refreshing to work with y/n. She took us all back to that feeling we had when we first started writing songs. I think in a way she has improved us all, because she made us stand still and look at how much we have accomplished already. Sometimes you forget to look at that when your life is so busy. I am forever thankful for the friendship I have built with her.’

‘You’re gonna make me cry here, James,’ you said and wiped away a tear from your eyes. Remus put his arm around you and placed a kiss on the side of your head, while the others chuckled at you.

‘Sirius and y/n, we have to talk about your performance last night,’ Marshall said and he looked at you and Sirius. ‘I assume you have seen the way social media exploded after last night’s show?’

You nodded and chuckled as you thought back of the reaction of your friends and family. Your brother had sent you a video of your parents watching your performance for the first time and their reaction warmed your heart. Your mother was jumping around and had waved her arms through the air and your father had stood watching the video with tears on his face.

‘Fans have been speculating all around and I hope I am not crossing any boundaries here, but I do have to ask,’ Raj said and he leaned forward over the desk. ‘Are you two together?’

A silence fell over the studio as you looked at Sirius. He smirked at you and you smiled as you shook your head. ‘No, were not,’ you said and Raj frowned.

‘Really? You seemed to have quite some chemistry on the stage.’

‘The art of music,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘It can make anyone believe anything.’

- - - - - -

At the next show you were more relaxed. Now the nervousness of the first show was gone, you had found that you quite enjoyed the adrenalin that was rushing through your veins right before you went on stage. And even better was the joy that filled you when you stood on the stage.

Singing the song with Sirius had something magical to it. It wasn’t just the crowds that screamed the lyrics along or the music that reached to your bones. No, the best part was the smile that Sirius wore when he looked at you. For a moment you forgot everything around you when Sirius flashed you that smile.

The band played show after show and travelled all through North America. The cities you passed were all greater than the other. You went to places you had always wanted to visit and met new people.

The other thing that was just as fun as singing on a big stage every night, was meeting all the fans. And not even The Marauders’ fans; you had even met people that were fan of just you. People asking for pictures with you, for your autograph, anything. It was a new experience for you, but you adored every one of them. It had thrown you off at first when someone told you that you had saved their life, but the band had taken you under their wings and had explained how to deal with such situations.

You were beyond thankful to have those four guys around you. You had learned so much from them and you knew that you would have never made it if it wasn’t for their help.

In the time you spent with the boys, preparing before the show, talking after, the interviews, sleeping on the tour bus together, you really got to know them. You learned so much about them in such a little time and you were sure that even after the tour you would stay friends with them. You teased each other continuously , but where the teases with Remus, James and Peter were all innocent, with Sirius there was always another layer to them. Always a smirk or a wink. Not that you minded; you liked the little jokes and innuendos.

And if you were completely frank with yourself, you just liked Sirius.

- - - - - -

It was long dark as you lied in the uncomfortable bed of the tour bus. You were glad to at least have a bed and not have to sleep on a couch or something, but you had to admit that sleeping was very hard on those things.

You stared at the empty ceiling that was way too close to your face for your liking and thought of what you had read earlier.

You had been warned before not to believe the things people on social media said, but that was easier said than done. How could you not let those hateful words get to you?

Though you had dealt with hate comments more, these had been worse than ever before. There were people saying that you couldn’t sing and that you were ugly and fat, but that was nothing new. The things that hurt you the most were the people that said you were just on tour with the guys because you were an easy lay. Someone even said that you were just there to help them blow off some steam.

A tear escaped your eye and rolled over your face to fall on your pillow. You sighed sadly and got up. You jerked away the curtains before your bed and stepped out of it, bumping your head in the process. You cursed something under your breath as you walked to the back of the bus, where there was place to sit.

‘Who hurt you?’ Sirius chuckled as you sat down sighing.

He was lying on the couch in his grey sweatpants and an old T-shirt with his headphones in. He had a smile on his mouth, but that changed when he saw how you were looking. He took of his headphones and threw his phone to the side.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked genuinely.

‘It’s nothing,’ you muttered, playing with the edge of your sweater sleeves. ‘Just stupid people that suggest I’m a slut.’

‘What?’ Sirius asked and he moved closer to you.

You took out your phone and showed him the tweets. Sirius cursed out loud when he read them and he threw your phone behind you on the couch. He took your hands and forced you to look at him.

‘Listen to me,’ he said, his voice low. ‘You are not a slut, okay? You are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You are magnificent, lovely, beautiful, intelligent, witty and you have the most beautiful voice. My dear, if I couldn’t hold you in my arms, I would believe you are an angel.’

You smiled through your tears and wrapped your arms around Sirius’ neck.

‘They are just pity, little, jealous people that have nothing better to do in their lives. I wish I could protect you from them, but there will be more. Will you just promise me one thing?’ Sirius asked and you pulled away from him. ‘Never listen to them. Never doubt yourself. If you weren’t a good singer I wouldn’t have asked for you to come to tour with us.’

‘You asked for that?’ you said surprised.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Sirius said and he suddenly became a little awkward. ‘I had such fun writing with you, and the guys too, and I could not stop working together with you after just one song. So I asked out manager if you could tour with us.’

You smiled thankfully at Sirius and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you, Sirius. And I promise. If I’m good enough for Sirius Black to come to tour with him, I am good enough to not believe those haters.’

‘You’ll always be good enough for me, darling,’ Sirius said with a wink and he got his usual cocky smile back. ‘Even better, if I say so.’

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leant in to his chest. His cold fingers rested on your forearm and you felt a sparkle rushing through your body. You tried to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach, but the longer you sat with Sirius, the bigger they became.

‘I like having you here,’ Sirius said, his deep voice reaching to your bones.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah, you’re a refreshment from James’ lame jokes, Remus’ boring facts and whatever Peter tells. He’s not a great storyteller, that man.’

‘Well, I like being here,’ you said, turning a little so you could look at Sirius. His arms lowered and his hand rested on your hip as you leaned with your elbow on the back of the couch. You draped your legs over Sirius’ lap and played with his curls as you talked. ‘I do miss my family and friends though. Talking on the phone and face timing is not the same as actually being with them.’

‘I know, I hear the guys complain about that too.’

‘You not?’

‘No, I don’t talk to my family anymore.’

‘Oh,’ was all you said and you stopped twirling his black curls around your finger as you looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’

‘It’s alright,’ Sirius smiled at you. ‘I left home when I was seventeen, moved in with James, lived there for a while before I got my own place. I got the perfect tragic background for an artist.’

You chuckled sadly and reached for Sirius’ hair again. There was a silence that stretched out through the whole bus. You stared at the black hair in your hands while you tried to ignore Sirius’ gaze on you.

‘Thank you for telling me,’ you whispered as if breaking the silence was a crime. Sirius nodded and rested his head back into your hand. He closed his eyes as your nails scratched his skin. It was something you used to see your mother do to your father when he was upset and you did it to your brother when you were younger.

‘I should go back to bed,’ you said after a while and made effort to get off the couch.

‘Or you could stay here,’ Sirius said as he pulled you back against his chest, making you fall on top of him on the sofa. ‘Those beds suck. I am far more comfortable.’

The couch was deep enough for two people to lie next to each other and you settled close to Sirius, his chest against yours.

‘Well, I can’t disagree with that,’ you grinned as you buried your neck in his chest.

Sirius placed his arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him. You listened to his heartbeat and you quickly found yourself dozing off.

‘Goodnight, love,’ Sirius whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘Goodnight, Sirius.’

- - - - - -

One benefit of touring with a band was that there was always someone around. If you wanted to play a game you could go to James, if you wanted to have a conversation you could go to Remus, for fun stories Peter was available and Sirius was always there if you needed a cuddle.

You appreciated the company but you were also glad if you had some time alone. And though that was hard as you woke up in a bus with the men, rehearsed, spent free time with them, then played a show with them and after that hung out with them until you fell asleep in the same bus, only for the cycle to start again the next day, there were some moments that you were alone. Like when you got coffee in the morning for everyone, while the boys were still asleep. Or if they decided to practice on the stage longer and you could sneak off to the back of the bus with a book. Those were little moments of peace that you found yourself enjoying more and more as the tour continued.

However, you were immensely grateful for all the fun moments you had with the band. You were basically living your lifelong dream right now and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t realise that. You got to see what it was like to have fans all around the world, to have people come up to you and ask for a photo, to be recognised in the streets. At first it had been a bit weird to you, but over the time you had learned how to handle such situations and how to say ‘no’.

Maybe that was the hardest part. Saying no. You knew that you had to set boundaries between personal and public life, but if someone came up to you, you were quick to take a photo with them or to talk to them. The guys taught you that it was important for yourself to sometimes just say no. Your fans had to respects your boundaries and if they didn’t then they couldn’t be called your fans.

- - - - - -

‘Ready for tonight?’ Peter asked as he sat down next to you and handed you a cup of tea.

‘Thank you. Yeah, I think I am. My family’s coming over, so I’m really excited,’ you answered.

This night, Tiffany, your brother and your parents were coming over to see your show. You had been talking to Tiffany over the phone for the past time and she was super enthusiastic to see the show. You had gotten them backstage-passes so they could see you before the show.

‘Are we gonna meet them?’ James asked, taking place on your other side.

‘Oh, you’re not going to get out of that,’ you chuckled. ‘Tiff is asking about you guys all the time.’

‘Tiff, eh? And what’s she like?’ Sirius asked as he pushed Peter aside to sit next to you. ‘Anything we might enjoy?’

There it was, that cheeky wink that made your stomach turn upside down. Combined with the smirk that seemed to be glued to his face.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ you said. ‘She’s pretty fond of Remus.’

You grinned back at him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt your butterflies in your stomach. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you tried to play it cool by starting a conversation with Remus and James.

Sirius was listening to your conversation while his fingers drummed on your upper arm. He hummed a song and you felt the bass of his voice thrumming in your chest. He brought his head closer casually and his voice was closer to your ear. Subconsciously you placed your hand on his thigh and his humming stopped. He twisted his head to you and you looked up from your conversation with the others.

‘What?’ you asked when you saw Sirius was raising his eyebrow at you.

His eyes shifted to your hand and then back to your face. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

You gave his thigh a little squeeze and smiled. ‘Very much.’

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing left his mouth. A smirk formed on your face when you turned back to your conversation. James cocked his eyebrow at Sirius and you heard the latter sniff next to you.

The ringing of your phone caught your attention. You jumped up from the couch, Sirius’ hand falling off your shoulder and sliding along the curve of your body, and you reached for your phone on the other side of the dressing room.

Tiffany’s voice was yelling through the room as you answered your phone, telling you that she and your family had landed and were on the way to their hotel. ‘It’s so great here, honey! I can’t wait to see you! I am so- What do you want?! Och, just leave me alone for a second!’

You laughed at Tiffany’s angry words as you heard your brother’s voice in the back. You knew she had always had a thing for him. Every time he came over she always made sure she was at her best. You had teased her endlessly about it. She made dinner for him countless times and always gave him a little more than the other guests. She was always stealing glances at him and sitting next to him, their legs pressed together.

But you didn’t think your brother minded. He liked her just as much if not more. And you teased him with it too. But he was reluctant of his feelings. Though he seemed to flirt with Tiffany now, from what you could hear.

Lily, the assistant, knocked on the door and when it opened revealed her head. She, when she noticed you were on the phone, whispered something to the men on the other side of the room. Tiffany was still talking to you about how much she liked wherever she was right now and you let her ramble on, turning to the guys to ask what Lily said.

‘We have to leave in five minutes,’ Remus mumbled.

‘Tiff, I have to go, honey,’ you said, cutting off Tiffany’s speech. ‘Okay? I’ll talk to you later. Love you.’

- - - - - -

The crowd was making a lot of noise as they filled the hall. You stood backstage in the hallway of the dressing room, but you could still hear them. You could feel the nerves slowly rising in your body. This wouldn’t be a night any different from the other nights the past month, but yet you felt more nervous than normal.

Anxiously you paced up and down in front of the door of the dressing room, waiting for your family and Tiffany to arrive. Your brother had sent you a text, saying that they were at the venue but after that you hadn’t heard from him.

Maybe that was why you were nervous. You had never played for such a big crowd with your family there. They had been at many of your little shows, but never one this big. You knew they were proud of you and that they would like it, but you couldn’t stop the nerves.

‘Darling, calm down. What are you so nervous for?’ asked Sirius as he left the dressing room and found you walking up and down.

He lifted his arms and you buried your face in his chest, as he wrapped his hands around your waist. ‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, hugging more tightly onto Sirius.

‘You’re a great singer, your family will love you, the fans love you, the band loves you,’ Sirius’ voice got to a whisper, ‘I love you.’

Maybe he thought that the crowds were so loud that you wouldn’t hear it. Maybe he thought that if he whispered you wouldn’t hear. Or maybe he wanted you to hear. You didn’t know what he thought, but you knew one thing.

You heard.

Your body froze for a second and you lifted your head from Sirius’ chest. You stared at him with big eyes and you were unable to answer. Unable to tell him that you loved him too. Because you loved him too. You had known for a while, but you were too scared to admit it to yourself.

Sirius stared back at you with questioning eyes. A tiny smile formed on your mouth but before you could say anything, you heard footsteps.

You let go of Sirius, your hands lingering on his body and your chest aching for letting him go, and at the same time your parents, brother and Tiffany came around the corner. Your friend launched herself at you and you caught her in your arms. She immediately started talking about how much she had missed you, how silent the house was without you and how all your other friends were jealous of you.

Tiffany was still talking while you hugged your brother, who looked at your roommate with a goofy smile. You pinched his cheek and stuck out your tongue at him before you whispered: ‘So are you together yet?’

Your brother immediately averted his eyes from Tiffany and stared at you. He scrunched his eyebrows together at you and hit you playfully on the head. ‘Are you together with Mr. Singer yet?’

Your happy smile disappeared for a second as you were reminded of the moment that was just interrupted. But your grin came back quickly and you laughed at your brother. ‘Hm, I think I have made more progress than you,’ you said mysteriously and you winked before you stepped to your parents.

‘Oh, princess!’ your mother exclaimed and she engulfed you in her tight embrace. ‘Your father and I are so proud of you! We have seen ever video of every show!’

You hugged your father and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. ‘Good job, angel,’ your father said and your eyes watered up as you saw the tears in his.

‘And dare I say, you have quite the chemistry with that long haired man!’ your mother giggled. You looked over your shoulder at Sirius, who was occupied with Tiffany talking to him. He looked as distressed as when he first talked to Tiffany at your first night in New York. He caught your gaze and you waved at him before turning back to your parents. Your mother had a smug smile on her face and your father was looking over your shoulder at Sirius, with furrowed eyebrows.

‘Yes, Sirius has proven to be an absolute gentleman,’ you said, pulling your father from staring at Sirius. ‘You should meet the others too! Everyone is so nice!’

You saved Sirius from Tiffany, who seemed could not stop talking, and pulled your friend with you to the dressing room.

‘You have to tell me everything about you and my brother tonight,’ you whispered at her, while everyone else followed you. ‘And don’t tell me nothing has happened!’ you said when you saw her opening her mouth. ‘I know him and the way he looks at you tells me something has happened!’

Your family meeting The Marauders was as if your two families met. Your father immediately was drawn to Peter, your mother fussed over James, who was quickly saved by your brother and Tiffany sat down next to Remus. You winked at him and then raised your eyebrows at Tiffany and he burst out into laughter.

You sat down on the chair furthest away from everyone and watched the scene happily, though a little embarrassed at the way your family acted. The nerves that you had felt a while ago had gone and you were excited to play the show tonight.

After a while, James sat down next to you, after he was released from your mother’s conversation. He handed you a beer and you greedily accepted it. Maybe inviting your parents and your brother and Tiffany at the same time wasn’t such a good idea after all.

‘Where’s Sirius?’ James asked you.

Sirius hadn’t joined you and your family in the dressing room and you feared you had messed up by not answering to his confession. You wanted to look for him, but you knew all hell would break loose if you left your family alone.

‘I don’t know,’ you said, taking a sip from the bottle. ‘I was talking with him, but we were interrupted by these idiots.’ You gesture at your father who is doing a little weird dance in the middle of the room.

It wasn’t unusual for you to see this side of your parents, but you had hoped they would not show it in front of people whom they had never met. You knew they were crazy, but no one else needed to know.

‘Oh, well,’ James said nonchalant. ‘I am sure he’ll come back soon.’

- - - - - -

But Sirius didn’t. The next time you saw him was long after your family had been brought to their places and right before he was about to go on stage. In the dark you could see his silhouette contrasting with the lights from the stage. He was fumbling the microphone in his hands, as you had learned he only did when he was nervous.

You walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey,’ you said softly. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ he snapped back and you removed your hand from his body.

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled. ‘I know we never got to finish our conversation, but I just-’

‘Twenty seconds!’ the stage manager yelled, interrupting you.

‘I’ll see you there, right?’ Sirius asked, his voice cold and distant. ‘Just… do what you always do.’

Sirius stepped away from you to the stairs and you watched his figure with tears in your eyes as he climbed the stage with the rest of the band. James looked back at you and pointed at Sirius before ticking the side of his head. You chuckled through the tears and blew James a kiss before he disappeared into the bright lights.

Watching the men perform was still so inspiring to you. The passion that they had was something that you hoped to achieve some day yourself. They didn’t just make music, they made magic. You would never get tired of watching it.

‘Now I think it is time we bring out the person who is an immense support to us and who you all love. And if you don’t, well, then just cover your ears or something… Here’s y/n!’ James shouted and the audience screamed as you walked on stage.

You stood next to Sirius and for the first time since the tour started you felt like you were back at the first show again. All the insecurities came back to you in a wave and you felt a little dizzy. You grabbed Sirius’ arm for balance and he looked quickly at you, before averting his eyes again.

You knew that his was the only way to reach him. Through music, through his lyrics. If he didn’t want to talk with you, then fine. But you knew that he would listen to you if you sang to him.

So you sang the song with all the passion and love that you had in your body.

‘Won’t you please just look at me?

And listen to my heart

As I tell you all the stories

To never be apart

If this is what you’re feeling

Then tell me one more time

Will you take my heart along

And leave this all behind?’

Sirius looked at you, like he had done all those nights before, but something in his face was different. You smiled at him and put out your hand for him to take. He looked from your hand to your face and then the biggest smile you had seen all tour appeared on his face as he took your hand in his and squeezed it a little.

‘Don’t rush

I will wait for you

Take time

Leave your love behind’

A tear slid down your cheek as you looked at the big crowd in front of you that was singing along every word that left your mouth. The flashlights of phones waved through the air as in one movement.

‘Love, don’t break my heart again

Just push it to the side

I will still be waiting here

So you just take your time’

Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You both stopped singing for a minute and listened to the audience as they sang from the top of their longs. Even the band stopped playing and all that could be heard were the thousands of voices from the fans.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, Sirius whispered: ‘I love you, darling.’

You looked at him and smiled, while he wiped away the tears on your cheek. ‘I love you too.’

‘So know that I will love you still

Even if you take so long

Leave this place but come back please

For you are everything to me’

The last melodies of the song started and you intertwined your fingers with Sirius’ as you poured all your feelings into the last words.

‘So just take your time

Cause I’ll wait for you’

----------

Taglists

Sirius Black @treestarrrrrrrr @bumbelbeeesblog @with1love1anu @transparentttttttttt @sirius-satellite @cheoco @malikinglove @alwaysinmydaydreams @eateraa @bi-andready-tocry @fangirlofbooksandpasta @littlemissgothgirl @always394patronus @heavenly-ascended-melodies @mrs-moony @coldlilheart @fific7 @april-showers-and-flowers @susceptible-but-siriusexual

Marauders @secretsthathauntus @ronniethelost @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @hxrgreeves @wecouldbreakthedistance @valentina-007

General HP @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @bloodblossom73 @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @obsessedwithrandomthings @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife

let me know if you want to be added/removed/replaced

MASTERLIST

#haraces1kchallenge #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew x reader #sirius black fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

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