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throneofsapphics · 7 months

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get up off the roof

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary: “There’s one person who could probably get through to her.” Rowan spoke carefully as if he was treading on dangerous water with his mate.

“They haven’t spoken in weeks.” She snapped. You felt bile rise in your throat, and decided eavesdropping was a very bad idea, so you fled silently back down the hall.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: grief, death of a parent, angst-ish, comfort if you squint

A/N: I should be working on my kinktober list, but this is what came out instead.

Your breaths were heavy as you stood on the roof, your bare toes curling over the edge. The shingles were rough under your feet, and it took much of your focus to keep yourself balanced on the slope. Your heels dug in, and you let yourself lean back just enough to keep you from falling off the edge. It was a scorching summer day, and the rough material burned the soles of your feet, the sun heating through your clothes and leaving an uncomfortable warmth on your skin.

It was only two stories up, if it didn’t work you’d still survive - maybe a bit bruised and with a few broken bones, but you were frustrated enough to get desperate. Ever since … that … your magic had been stifled, and you could barely reach it. Losing both of your parents a week of each other, the ones who taught you to love your magic and heritage in secret. Who provided you with unconditional support and love. Your magic felt intertwined with their memory, and every time you tried to reach for it, it shrunk further back as if the grief was too strong. It had been nearly a month, and it was slowly driving you insane.

If anything, a situation that appears to be life threatening might bring it out of you.

You thought you heard someone calling your name, far off in the distance, but shoved it away. Chances are nobody was there, you were always careful with the times you let yourself suffer, let your emotions reign free.

Then, you were falling through the air as your heels pushed off the roof. Your body curled on instinct, and you hit the gods-damned bush. It hadn’t worked.

“Are you insane?” You heard Aelin’s yell from the doorway, as she sprinted out towards the courtyard. Someone had been there. You cursed audibly, not at the pain but at the explanation you’d have to give now, and the pity that would follow. Pity made you feel as if you were shriveling inside, your entire body recoiling.

She gripped under your elbow, tugging you up to stand. Her eyes quickly traced your body, noting the small scratch on your elbow with a frown. Besides that, you were completely fine. Physically.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Despite the expletive, her voice was a bit softer.

“I was ..” pressure built around your throat, choking you and stopping any more words from coming out. You couldn’t figure out how to explain it, even if you wanted to. Aelin tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Let’s get you inside.”

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding tightly like you might disappear at any moment. Could you keep her from telling anyone else? Especially a specific someone who would lose their damn mind, despite them having no claim to you, and no desire to. Aelin would probably feel obligated as both your friend and theirs. You leaned your head against her shoulder with a sigh. If she wanted to, there was nothing you could do about it.

A crow cawed in the distance and you felt a shudder run down your spine.

She bundled you inside, and right off to her rooms where she started making tea. At least she kept it in her rooms and didn’t force you down to the kitchens. You probably looked an absolute mess, you could feel the leaves tangled in your hair and knew the bags under your eyes were likely a deep purple by now.

You scented him moments before he entered, and let out a low curse. Aelin turned to you in alarm, and quickly walked towards the door but he’d flung it open before you could react.

He stood in the doorway for a few moments, and you slowly turned to face him, despite your best efforts.

“Take a tumble?” He raised his brows.

“Get out.” Aelin snapped, shoving his chest back. He slowly backed out of the door, and you saw his eyes widen as the Queen slammed the door in his face.

“Y/n,” Aelin’s voice was quiet, and drew your attention away from the heavy oak door. She was in front of you, shoving a warm cup into her hands. She crouched in front of you, silently healing the scrape on your elbow. Aelin sighed as she looked at you, and you had the sudden urge to throw the hot liquid in her face. But, that would be a very ungrateful thing to do. And assaulting the Queen of your country, even if she was a friend, was a bad idea. The doorknob rattled, and you heard a pounding on the door. Pine and snow, you registered that. Aelin rolled her eyes and shot you an apologetic look.

She cracked it open just enough to speak to Rowan in hushed tones, low enough even your Fae hearing couldn’t pick up on it.

Instead, you studied the mug in your hands, remembering a grounding technique. Warm from the liquid inside, the base was white, a lord of the north painted on one side. A small chip on the handle. You ran your thumb over it, it was a small dip in the porcelain, insignificant enough you never would’ve noticed it if you hadn’t been looking. But, you’d learned over the years that if you studied anything too long you would notice every little thing that was wrong. People and objects alike.

“What were you trying to do?” Aelin drew you out of your reverie.

The words, you could get just enough words out to tell her. Out of anyone, she might understand. “Get my magic back.”

“There’s better ways to -”

You cut her off, “other ways haven’t worked.” You said harshly.

Aelin let out a slow breath and studied you. As always, you felt like she tore through every damn layer of you - seeing right to the core. You were too alike in some ways, and could always call each other out on bullshit. “Try and let it come back on it’s own.”

You’d tried. You’d fucking tried but it was miserable to not be able to access that part of yourself, the part that had disappeared for ten damned years and you didn’t want to spend a day longer without it.

“Do you think talking about them would help?” She settled down next to you on the couch, legs crossed under her and turned to face you.

You chewed on your bottom lip. You’d avoided thinking or talking about them as much as possible, figuring that would shove the pain and grief away and eventually it would disappear on its own. “Not yet.”

You felt her disappointment, and ignored that too.

“I don’t know how to help her.” Your best friend's soft voice floated through the open door.

This was a conversation you weren’t meant to overhear, you knew that for certain. Besides, you didn’t need help, you just needed time.

“There’s one person who could probably get through to her.” Rowan spoke carefully as if he was treading on dangerous water with his mate.

“They haven’t spoken in weeks.” She snapped. You felt bile rise in your throat, and decided eavesdropping was a very bad idea, so you fled silently back down the hall.

Maybe it was punishment, or her form of protecting you but Aelin dragging you to state meetings made your head want to explode. If she could, she’d probably try to stay in your room with you. Either her or Rowan had been trailing after you constantly. Like two overbearing and fussy shadows.

“I’m not a risk to myself.” You finally snapped one night.

“Really?” Aelin matched your pitch and tone. “Because I watched my best friend jump off the gods-damned roof.”

“You killed the gods.”

“And if you died I’d bring you back to kill you myself.” She was almost yelling at this point.

“Awe, you do love me.” You teased her, de-escalating and dodging the earlier topic.

Aelin shot a long suffering look towards Rowan, who only looked on amusedly.

“You could talk to him.” The bastard said. Aelin shot him a nasty look this time as you froze in place.

“Rowan,” she growled at him, before looking back to you apologetically.

“Or he could talk to me.” You said stiffly.

“Because that’s worked so well, hasn’t it?”

You forgot how much of an asshole he can be, and told him so. He only said to come up with more creative names for him before you stormed out of the room. It was a small mercy that they let you have your tantrum in peace, staying back in their rooms. If they had followed you this time you probably would have thrown something at them.

You were stewing in your anger and barely paying attention to where you were going as your subconscious guided you on muscle-memory. Right to your roof. You didn’t stand at the edge this time, in fact you sat several feet behind, on a flatter area and far back enough any busy bodies would assume you’re just relaxing. You carefully lowered yourself down on your back to stare up at the stars. A crow landed next to you, peering at you with uncanny eyes.

“Hello,” you muttered. They seemed to follow you everywhere and you couldn’t decide if it was an omen or not. To your surprise, the animal cawed in response. “I’m going to assume that's a friendly greeting.”

The bird ruffled its feathers, still staring at you. “If I didn’t know better,” you continued, “I’d assume you’re a Fae or Shifter.

You heard a snort coming from a few feet away and the animal took off with a screech. There’s only one person who can sneak up on you like that.

“If I said to fuck off would you actually leave?” You didn’t bother looking at him.

“Probably not.” The air shifted around you, and when you turned your head he was laying next to you, only a foot or so away. If you reached your arm out you could touch him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do I need a reason to come see you?” He let out an edged chuckle, and you turned your head back to the night sky, searching for the lord of the north.

“If I say yes will you be offended?”

“So many questions.” He tutted. That is a yes, then. “They’re worried.” Your chest tightened and blood heated. Anger rolled from you in waves. They had no right to go spreading your business, telling whoever the hell they wanted …

“I can see it on their faces, the way they’re acting.” He continued, probably sensing the emotions rising in you like a dangerous wave, battering at the dams of your already fragile self control. “I haven’t asked any questions.”

In your grief, he pulled further away from you. At a time when you needed him the most, he disappeared. You couldn’t figure out why the hell he decided to show up now, now that you were inches away from rock bottom.

“Where have you been?” You tried not to sound accusatory but failed miserably.

For once, he didn’t have a snarky response or reply to it. Instead, he reached for you. You didn’t move, but didn’t fight him as he tugged your hand into his. Your friend, the friend that had started to turn into more, just weeks before everything happened.

“I’m sorry.” His thumb ran across your knuckles, and his hand tightened around yours, interlacing your fingers.

“Y/n,” you heard a shout from your balcony. “Get off the roof!” Aelin was screaming, nearly at the top of her lungs. You should’ve known eventually.

“You can join us or you can leave.” Fenrys yelled back at her, saving you from having to do it.

A quiet, “oh,” came from below you, and you heard your balcony door shut.

“My savior,” you teased, the words coming out naturally.

“Glad to be of service.” His grin shone through his words, and when you turned the moon cast the perfect light over his face, highlighting all of his features. Onyx eyes captured your own, and his hair seemed to glow in the light. Like a bright light calling you in. You squeezed his hand once.

“My knight in shining armor.”

#fenrys x y/n #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam x y/n #fenrys moonbeam x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass x reader #fenrys moonbeam #I don't know what proofreading is #my work computer broke down on me so this is what happened #I also put on my angst playlist #I think that's enough tags

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anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount · 2 years

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Peter’s Birthday

Oh my God, 3 fics in a week. Must be some sort of new record between my writer’s block and school. Don’t expect this often, I’m just priortizing writing more than some of my unnecessary (unhealthy) hobbies (scrolling through social media and rereading texts that only make me feel bad about how happy/stupid i was). Is that a toxic trait? I feel like that’s probably a toxic or a self-depreciation kinda thing or something. Oh well. I had so many ideas for Peter that he definitely gets a birthday next year, and maybe the year after that.

My Masterlist

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Reader, Implied!Happy Hogan x May Parker, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts

Warnings: Fluffy!!! implied smut right at the end, reader kinda has a mental breakdown bc she can’t cook, she also got fired for no reason (but let’s just go with her boss made sexual comments and she didn’t reciprocate the feelings bc peter and so he fired her bc that seems like it happens enough), matt murdock is mentioned, he also gets shot and comes to the reader and peter to get patched up, reader knows how to do stitches bc of peter. mentions of violence, guns, bullets, a drug ring, and punisher

Word Count: 2509

Summary: After being fired from your job, Peter gets you a new one working for Nelson and Murdock. After you burn his birthday dinner, Peter reminds you that you’re going to May’s for a party tonight. After the party, your new boss needs some stitching up after a nasty fight. What a day in the life of Spiderman’s girlfriend, especially on his birthday.

Just before Peter’s birthday, you were pretty much broke. You had just gotten fired from your less-than-minimum-wage-paying job, and were in the process of job searching. Even though the pay was terrible, it was still better than nothing. And you were looking specifically in the proximity of Stark Tower for your next job, especially since you knew Peter was Spiderman and was working for Tony. You weren’t a superhero, but you helped out when you could, especially with patching Peter up, since he was very prone to getting beat up by not-so-friendly neighbourhood purse robbers. You still got him a nice card and everything, but you felt terrible that you couldn’t afford a gift for him.

He knew how much you were beating yourself up over this for about a week beforehand, and reassured you that he didn’t need anything, only you.

But you felt shitty about not being able to get your own boyfriend a gift for his birthday, especially after the beautiful necklace he had gotten you for your last birthday. A spider with an engraving in the back that said “For my princess, I love you.” and unless he had 3-D printed that shit with Ned, you knew it had to have been expensive. So you decided to make Peter a spectacular birthday dinner.

Except you burned the pizza you were trying to make from scratch. So then you tried to make him a birthday cake.

But you forgot to add eggs to the cake and then you overwhipped the icing. Finally, as a last resort, you tried to make your mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

Yet somehow they wound up raw on the top, burnt on the bottom, wonky, and completely unlike the way your mom makes them. Not being able to take it anymore, you burst into tears after closing the oven. You couldn’t buy your boyfriend a present due to lack of funds, make him dinner, cake, or cookies; and you couldn’t even order takeout because of just how broke you were while trying to find a job in New York.

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This was how Peter came home to find you. Surrounded by blackened pizza, a deformed cake, chunky icing, and lumps of cookies. And bawling your eyes out.

“Hey, hey, princess. What’s going on?” He asked softly, coming over to wrap you in a hug.

“I- I-” You hiccuped, not being able to get your words out.

Peter rubbed your back, letting you cry. “It’s okay.” He mumbled, surrounding you with comfort. “I’m here, princess. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” You wailed, still surrounded by your failed creations.

“Then you gotta tell me what’s wrong, princess. Why are you crying?”

“I- I’m too broke to buy you anything after I got fired for no goddamn reason, I burnt dinner that I was trying to make you, I forgot to add eggs to the cake, I overwhipped the icing, and I don’t even know what happened to the cookies, but they look both raw and burnt! And I’m too broke to order in takeout, unless you’re buying, we’re gonna have to go hungry tonight because I’m too broke and stupid to do anything!” You cried, sobbing into Peter’s shirt after your hell-hole of a week.

Peter softly shushed you, letting you cry into his shirt, knowing how emotionally taxing the last few weeks have been on you. “Honey, I got you a job.”

You made a questioning noise, pulling your head out of the collar of his shirt. Ah, I’ll get the tear stains out in the laundry this weekend. You thought, looking at Peter curiously.

“It’s not with Mr. Stark.” He started, “But you will be working with a superhero. At the very least I’ll know you’re protected.”

“Don’t tell me I’m running PR for the Hulk.” You said, smiling softly at your protective boyfriend.

“You are definitely not Bruce’s new PR person, but that is a great idea, he definitely needs that after Hulk hasn’t been let out in a while. But no. I got you a job working at Nelson and Murdock, you’re gonna be a secretary there, and Mr. Murdock, or Matt as he’ll insist you call him, is Daredevil.”

“You got me a job at Nelson and Murdock, working with Daredevil, in Hell’s Kitchen?” You asked, summarizing what he said.

Peter nodded. “I did, yes.”

“Oh, Peter!” You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck. “God, I love you so much. What would I ever do without you?”

“Well-”

“We’re not talking about the ruined food surrounding us.”

“I was going to say you’d be a lot safer, but since you mention it..”

You glared at him jokingly. “Help me clean it up, please?”

“Of course, princess.” He said, kissing your forehead. “And don’t forget that we have to go to May’s tonight for the party she’s throwing for me.”

“Oh, I forgot! I wouldn’t have tried cooking if I had remembered!”

“It’s okay, my love. Everything’s okay. You go get ready, and I’ll clean up the mess.”

You kissed Peter softly, thanking him, and heading into your shared bedroom to get changed. You took a quick shower, washed your hair and blow dried it so that you wouldn’t have to wait for it to dry. When you came out of the bathroom, Peter was all dressed up in his suit and there was a dress on the bed that matched the tie laying next to it.

“Of course you want me to wear your favourite dress for your birthday.” You chuckled, dropping the towel from around your torso and getting Peter to help you into the dress. He did the most important part, of course, zipping you up in the back.

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While you started on your hair and makeup, Peter used the full-length mirror in the bedroom to tie his tie. It wasn’t until you glanced over at him that you remembered that Peter can’t tie a tie. “Pete, c’mon in here, you know you can’t tie ties. Now, while I’m tying, you pick the eyeshadow and lipgloss or lipstick you want me to wear, birthday boy.”

“What about that really bright pink lip gloss that you love wearing when you’re teasing me because of how good it looks on you? And maybe pair it with this eyeshadow?” He pointed to your favourite shade of eyeshadow on your favourite pallet. (A/N:If you have more than one eyeshadow pallet, unlike me. What? Who only has one in this day and age, I know.)

“Of course, Petey. When do we have to get there again?” You said, straightening the tie around his collar.

“Sweetheart, we moved a floor up. We just have to take either a flight of stairs or the elevator for one floor.” Peter chuckled, softly kissing you before you finished your makeup so he wouldn’t ruin anything.

You sighed while doing your eyeshadow, “That means May heard the smoke alarm going off when I burned the pizza.”

“Probably, yup.” Peter said, kissing the top of your head. “But you know she’ll just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m definitely not. But you got me a job, so I guess I can’t complain too much, can I?”

“You start Monday, and Mr. Stark is bringing Matt to the party tonight so you can meet him.”

“Oh yeah, who’s coming to this thing?” You asked, pulling your favourite lipgloss out.

Peter rested his chin on top of your head, lightly wrapping you in a hug. “May, Happy, Tony, Pepper, Matt, Ned, and MJ. And then you and me.”

“And we’re definitely getting kicked out early tonight because May and Happy will want to spend the night together.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, princess. I don’t wanna hear about who my aunt’s dating.”

You chuckled, giving yourself one last glance over in the mirror. “I’d say they’re doing a little more than dating, sweetheart.”

“I did not need to hear that.” Peter said, putting your heels on for you and dragging you out the door.

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After the party, you and Peter went back upstairs to your apartment to tuck into bed for the night, and possibly the weekend depending on how you woke up feeling. One way or the other.

Matt Murdock was really nice, although what Peter had forgotten to tell you was that Matt’s blind and has enhanced senses. His hearing is impeccable, he was even able to tell when Peter was teasing you at the party based on how your heart rate changed, from across the room.

Note to self: Don’t flirt with Peter at work. You thought, realizing that Matt also probably had an enhanced sense of smell.

A tap at the window brought you out of your brain, finally allowing you a little peace, until you realized that Peter was snoring peacefully next to you and was not the idiot currently tapping on your window. You disentangled yourself from Peter carefully before creeping to the window and opening the curtain a crack. What, did I think about my new job too much? Can he read minds too?

“Matt?!” You whisper-yelled, “What the fuck are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night! I haven’t even started work yet!” Instead of speaking to answer your questions, he just moved his hand off of his shoulder, which definitely had a bullet sitting in it right now and was going to be gushing all over your bathroom in a minute. “Come in, don’t drip on the floor.” You sighed, giving your new boss entry to your home through your bedroom window.

“Nice place.” He said, walking over to the bathroom where Peter had surely told him that you keep the first aid kit.

“Princess?” Peter groaned softly, waking up slightly. “What’s going on, where are you?”

“I’m right here, Pete.” You told him, walking over to the bathroom. “Apparently I’m going to be spending my nights patching up two self-sacrificial idiots now. Fuckin’ superheroes.”

“Two? I thought I was the only one you patched up.” Peter moped, following you into the bathroom.

You gestured to Matt, sitting on the edge of your bathtub. “I was, except saying ‘no’ to my new boss seems like a bad idea, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t fire you for not patching me up, kid. Peter told me that you help him out when he’s hurt, and I got into a bit of a predicament tonight.”

“I thought the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen didn’t like guns.” You mumbled, dipping the tweezers in some rubbing alcohol.

“I don’t.” He responded. “Jesus, fuck, that hurts!”

“I thought you were Catholic, Matt.” You said, pulling the bullet out of his shoulder.

He chuckled, “I am, but I swear when I’m getting a bullet out of my shoulder.”

“Fair point. You don’t mind if I sew this up, do you? A band-aid won’t fix this.”

“Whatever you need, kid. Just as long as I don’t bleed out on your floor.”

“Can’t be killing my boss before I even get to my first day of work.” You said, threading a small needle with medical thread.

Matt raised an eyebrow, “Is that medical thread? How do you know how to do stitches?”

“I took a medical class in highschool, May works at the hospital, and Peter’s been a clutz since we were kids. I’ve seen him sewed up more than once before I started doing his stitches.” You told Matt, tying the knot around the end so you wouldn’t lose the needle. “I’d ask if you’re ready, but you’ll know before I pierce your skin anyway.”

“I will, so go for it, kid. You can’t hurt me more than I already am.”

You nodded, starting to thread his wound shut. “Good job getting it to stop bleeding, princess.” Peter said, kissing your forehead softly. “But Matt, who’s shooting at you with a .38 at 1AM halfway across the city? And why come back to this end to get sewn up? Don’t you have someone that helps you?”

“I don’t have anyone that helps sew me up, sometimes I can call Foggy if I know he’s not with Karen, but since they’re usually together, I usually have to hope that I won’t bleed out in my sleep.”

“You’re sending a text to one of us with your location, and we’ll both be there. There’s no need for you to get all the way from Hell’s Kitchen to Queen’s with a bleeding wound.” Peter said, pulling the roll of bandages out of the first aid kit to pass to you when you were done with Matt’s makeshift stitches.

“And would you believe me if I said I was busting a drug ring?”

“The only part I would find unbelievable is that you didn’t have backup.” You said, beginning to wrap his shoulder. “And don’t give me the whole ‘The Devil works alone’ spiel because I know that Daredevil and Punisher are quite close, and you could’ve called Peter or Tony for backup. No more working alone, because eventually you’ll bleed out before someone can fix you.”

Matt smiled, eyes moving back and forth between where you and Peter’s voices were coming from. “Okay. If I see something that I can’t handle alone, I’ll send a text to Frank or Peter, and if I get into trouble from something that I can handle, I’ll text either you or Peter to come patch me up, kid.”

“Sounds good to me.” You said, cutting off the bandage and tucking it in. “Try and change those in the morning, and if not, we’ll swing by to change them for you. I’ll change them Monday when I get to the office.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Matt said, pulling you in for a hug and heading over to the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Take the door, Matt.” Peter said, leading him through your tiny apartment. “Elevator is at the end of the hall, on the left.”

Matt chuckled. “I can hear it whirring, Pete. But thank you.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Matt.” Peter said, closing and locking the door behind him. He turned around to see you leaning in the doorway between the living room and the bedroom.

“Can we cuddle?” You asked, making grabby hands for your boyfriend.

Peter smiled, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “Of course we can, princess.” The two of you, still hugging, walked back to the bed. “Did you clean up the bathroom?”

“I put everything away and cleaned up any residual blood. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, baby girl.”

“Are you upset that I didn’t do anything.. sexy for your birthday?”

Peter hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head. “Of course not. We can do anything any day of the year, we don’t need to do anything special for my birthday.”

“Maybe we’ll be in a better spot next year and I can do something special for you.” You said, peppering kisses across his chest.

“..What if we did something now?” Peter asked, rolling the two of you over.