#royal peter parker

[sadisticsongbird]

divided by the crown ~ peter parker

part three

a/n: y’all i am SO sorry. i thought i had queued this yesterday already because I had a funeral. but here it is. FINALLY. the last part of divided by the crown and i’m not going to lie, i am NOT going to miss it. although it was fun to write, it was difficult to continue working on it for a long length of time. i am however willing to answer any questions you may have about the series or write little blurbs here and there if they end up in my ask box. but without further adu...

summary: the close of your and peters royal adventure...

warnings: this has NOT been edited

word count: 9.5k

You had officially run out of tears and your throat was raw. Screaming wasn’t helping and now your voice was left to a broken sound. The funny thing was that you weren’t screaming for your sake, for them to let you out. You had been calling Peter’s name over and over. Even now as sound was barely escaping you, his name was the only thing leaving your lips. Your back was sore and you were sure that you had countless slivers in the palms of your hands. It had been only three days since you had been locked up and you hadn’t even seen Peter once. You were sure that guards were keeping him away, but you couldn’t help but ask why he didn’t take control over the guards. They were HIS soldiers after all, not MJ’s. You sighed before getting up from the hay on the ground upon seeing your breakfast tray lying at the foot of the barred cell door. You looked up to see a guard standing before your cell, staring straight ahead. Of course, she would set up a watch. She probably had guards on Peter’s door too, keeping you two away from one another. 

When they had brought you here, they had given you only a sheer dress, even worse than what you normally wore. There were already rips in the fabric from the rough ground and rock walls, holes in the most inconvenient of places. It was long, thank God, so it wouldn’t ride up. Peter was kept behind after they had brought you in, Lord Stark the one to take him home. He was escorted to his room immediately and probably hadn’t left it since. 

It had only been days, but it had felt like years. He had been sitting at his desk for the time being kept in his room. The ring that sat on his finger was being twisted between his fingers and your necklace that sat in his pocket felt heavy. All he could think about was you. You locked up in a cell.

All because of him.

He wouldn’t stop until he had looked at every last document, every last note until he found a loophole to get you both out of the situation you were in. He had yet to be visited by the princess and was quite dreading a visit from her. What had happened in the short afternoon and evening that he had disappeared for? It had been normal for him to disappear and abandon all responsibility in the past few months, but how far did MJ have her nails in the court? Lord Stark, whom he trusted, was even submitting to the foreign royal’s orders. In frustration, he plopped down in the chair that was sitting behind his desk. Peter couldn’t bare to think about what would happen to you if he couldn’t succeed. What would the princess do to you? Your relationship was one forbode and MJ was meant to take the place that you currently held. Would she go as far as killing you to be at Peter’s side? 

And what would be of him? If MJ intended to continue to control his guards and court, what place did Peter serve? What if she intended to kill the both of them and take the kingdom for herself? He couldn’t let that happen. To either of you. He would make sure of it. 

A knock was heard at his door and he scrambled to his feet and tried to scatter the documents and maps across his desk. Although they probably knew that Peter was doing whatever he could to get out of this mess, he didn’t want them to know if he had made any progress and stop him. If he was making progress at all. Unannounced, his doors opened, revealing the princess herself. 

“Peter.”

“MJ.” 

There was an awkwardness radiating off of the young prince, making MJ very aware of his vulnerability and it gave her all the more reason to keep pursuing confidence. 

“Your little love bird is sitting in a cell right now…but you want to know what the weird thing is?” Peter didn’t say anything. “She doesn’t seem to be concerned for herself…only for you.” He gulped. It sounded like something you would do. Even though you should be worrying about yourself, you concern yourself with others' well-being. “You must’ve fooled her well. That move you pulled in the woods, the defensive boyfriend bit,” she muttered, making her way closer to Peter and placing her hand on his chest. He recoiled slightly but didn’t move far. “I’ll admit, I was convinced. Really, I’m impressed. But does she really know the truth about the young Peter Parker?” Her hand dragged lower and lower until it was sitting near the waistband of his pants. Just before she reached his belt, he grasped her wrist in his hand and twisted slightly, if only to inflict a little pain. If it did, it didn’t show on her unmoving features. 

“Enough, MJ,”

“What?” she scoffed. “You upset your little play thing’s locked away?”

His scowl grew deep. The anger between the two didn’t dissipate and the princess was only making it worse. He threw her hand away and turned around. He was scared of what he would do to her if she kept on instigating him. 

“Come on, Peter. Just admit that you were playing her and this whole thing is over…”

“What’s over!?!” he yelled. “What is this?! What’s going on?!!” He paused, waiting for a reaction. When she didn’t give one, he decided it was enough self-control. “What, did daddy pull the plug on your money? He tells you that you couldn’t lead the kingdom because of that recklessness we both know you possess?”

“SHUT UP!!!” she screamed. 

Peter fell back. He wasn’t expecting such an outburst and definitely wasn’t expecting the red glow coming from her eyes. She was a sight. Her entire body glowed like it was aflame and her eyes…her eyes bore into him, leaving his head spinning. This was no princess, at least not the one he knew from years ago. 

“You have 24 hours, young prince, to relinquish your right to the throne…willingly or this kingdom will fall to the ground.” She flattened her gown, attempting to look clean before storming out of his room. 

Fear. That was the only thing ingrained into him at the moment. Who was the woman that had just been standing in front of him? He should have guessed that something was up the moment a cocky grin appeared on her face the very first evening. While the girl that he knew had attitude problems, she didn’t like confronting people, too worried that her mistakes would lead the kingdom into further ruin. That girl wouldn’t be as straightforward with him as she was nor would she order around guards as smoothly as she did. Whoever she was, she wasn’t MJ. But her warning let him know that he had 24 hours to figure out. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long you had been locked down there but everything was dark and you couldn’t make anything out besides the little cracks in the bricks that surrounded the torch posts on the wall. It was cold, a slight breeze traveling through the corridor, insinuating that it was most likely night now. You knew that there were guards down here. You could hear them talking at the end of the hall. The straw and the rock were beginning to make your feet raw so you opted for sitting on the makeshift wood plank they called a bed. When - if - you got out of this, you’d be talking to Peter about making the prison cells a little bit more comfortable. While being in jail wasn’t meant to be a leisure opportunity, last days or hours deserved to be spent in better conditions, especially in once-in-a-lifetime situations like yours. And maybe adding some windows or a source of natural light down here. What you would give to see the sun one last time, hear the birds chirp in the spring once more, feel the rain on your skin. But you had sealed your fate the moment you had stepped into Peter’s room that night to help him with his nightmare. You loved Peter, but that came at a cost. One you were scared to pay. Although it should have made you more worried about yourself, all you could think about was what would happen to Peter after you were gone. Did MJ have too much control of the kingdom already and it was slipping through Peter’s fingers? Would your death take a toll on the prince and would he be strong enough to lead after you were gone? Would he be vulnerable enough for MJ to take the kingdom or would he give up willingly?

Questions seemed to take more place in both of your minds rather than action. But then again, what could you do?

You had given up on trying to make a key out of straw after about ten minutes and the bars were too strong to be broken or even indented with your bare strength. So here you were, giving up and hopeless just as you promised Peter you wouldn’t be. You felt like you were letting him down. He was probably trying as many things as he could to try and get you out and yet you were sitting here, surrendering to your fate. 

A clang rang on the bars outside of your cell. You didn’t turn over, keeping your back to whomever stood outside your cell. You kept your eyes on the stones, tracing the cracks in the walls with your eyes. 

“I take it you're probably hungry?” Immediately upon hearing the voice, you turned to see Wanda standing there, holding a tray of food. 

“Wanda!” You stood up right away, but your legs gave out from underneath you. You were weak and hadn’t eaten much. What little strength you had left in you, you wanted to preserve. 

There was a single soldier standing with Wanda, who began unlocking the door while your friend waitied anxiously to attend to you. The key turned and you felt the only thing that kept you from escaping opening for the first time in what seemed like forever. 

Wanda rushed over to you, setting down the food and helping you sit up. “You’re weak. Come on, eat.” She handed you a piece of bread. “God, they couldn’t have opened that door any slower,” she said without even bothering to see if they had disappeared. Luckily, they had retreated to their position at the end of the hall. 

Your arms could barely support your weight, but you used your free hand to shove the piece of bread in your mouth. You weren’t sure if your stomach could hold it down, but you would take anything to soothe your hunger. Your friend stayed silent, only watching you scarf down what was in front of you. 

“So, you and Peter? In the woods? Naked?” She rose her eyebrows a few times, teasing.

“Shut up,” you giggled, unable to stop the blush creeping up on your cheeks. Taking a sip of water, you finally had the confidence to look up at her. 

“There’s a smile…”

“H-how’s the kingdom? Is MJ…is she-”

“Y/N, ask what you wanna ask…”

You gulped. “How’s Peter?” “He’s…struggling. Guards are posted outside of his room and limited staff are allowed in. He most likely hasn’t slept since you were locked up.” You looked down, breaking eye contact with Wanda. This was all your fault. If you hadn’t given in to Peter’s antics, neither of you would be in this spot. “And the princess, she made a deal with Peter. He has 24 hours to fulfill her request before…”

She didn’t even have to finish. You knew. You knew what would happen. Both of you sat in silence in the straw. You knew that Wanda would have to leave any moment. Although you wished she could stay longer, the red-head had already gotten up and picked up the tray. She left the bread on the ground. You grabbed what was left of the bun and raised it to her. 

“Keep it. Take a few more bites. Trust me.”

You looked at the bread in hand but didn’t understand. Before you could look at her again, she was walking out of your cell and was already halfway down the hall, the door locking again behind her. Subconsciously, you took a larger bite into the bun and something hard hit your teeth. It sent a jolt of pain through your mouth as you quickly pulled the food out of your mouth. Your hands were swift to pull the bread apart and a metallic clink landed on the stone floor. Attempting to follow the object in the minimal lighting, you let your hands roam around the floor, searching with your sense of touch. When you felt something cold on your fingers, you grasped it. The moment you felt what it was, recollection flooded you and you felt a warmth in your chest. Peter’s ring, the one you had given him. And it only meant one thing. Peter had found a way. There was hope.

He had found a way to smuggle Wanda into his room, someone he knew you trusted. It was all the more reason for him to trust her. Peter had given her very specific instructions on how to place the ring in the bread, then bring her food. Once you had gotten his gift, you would know that he was going to get you out and end this madness. While scanning documents for loopholes to this whole fiasco began to seem pointless after a few hours, the maps had given him some closure. The only way to escape the problem was to escape. He had a way to sneak out of his room to get to you. All he had to do was wait for the right opportunity. He hadn’t thought about how to deal with MJ yet. He didn’t even know if it was truly her or if he could even defeat her. Peter didn’t want to give up his kingdom or give up on his people, but he couldn’t leave you for death either. He knew he shouldn’t, but his heart desired your safety above anyone else's. It was wrong. Being the Heir Prince, he was supposed to put the kingdom above his own needs and be responsible in situations like this, but he just couldn’t let you go. 

Peter had changed into something more comfortable for being on the run and had a small bag packed with resources for a short while. All he had to do was wait a few more minutes. The guards would be changing and it gave him only a two minute window to slip out of his room and hide. But escaping his room would be the easy part. He still had to deal with everyone else in the palace, soldiers and apparently court members alike, get you out of your cell, and not to mention a head to head with the princess if he wanted to save his people. His foot continued to tap against the ground under the weight of his shaking legs. Nerves were nowhere near settling and they probably wouldn’t die down until he knew for sure that you were safe and free. 

The clock kept ticking and he was growing impatient for when the clock finally struck 2. He had spent the last few hours devising a plan after MJ had paid him a dear old visit, just trying to figure out how to get to you without her noticing either one of your disappearances. The guards normally weren’t inside the hall by the doors, only at the end of it. As the prince, he held a set of emergency keys in case something like this were to happen. Well, not something exactly like this, but being the sole leader of the kingdom, he had access to everywhere in the palace with these keys, including the prison. He was sure that MJ took them out of his desk before locking him in, but then again, she probably wasn’t expecting Peter to leave his room either. He slipped the jail cell key and the sewer tunnel key off of the link that they were on and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He decided on the coat that he had given to you the night you came in to comfort him. It made his heart slow its beating, having a piece of you around. While it looked a little cheesy on him, your necklace also took a place around his neck. It was tucked under his shirt so the chain wouldn’t fall off, worried that if it was in his pocket, it could possibly fall out. 

It felt like way too long since he had seen you, but he didn’t want to know what kind of state you were in. He couldn’t bare looking at you hurt, knowing that it was his actions that caused it. Why couldn’t he have just stayed away? Now here he was, hopelessly in love with you and risking his entire kingdom to save your life. He watched as the last seconds on the clock ticked down. The second the minute hand hit twelve, he flew to the door. He crouched down to peek through the small lock in the door. He prayed that the guards wouldn’t all of a sudden have a feeling that he was going to leave, I mean, he hadn’t tried in the days already spent locked in his room. Peter heard silent footsteps walking down the hall and he took a deep breath. This was it. This was his chance. Silently, he pushed open the doors to his room, leaving only enough space for him to sneak between them. He never left his back to the hall, making sure to keep an eye out for anyone coming up the corridor. 

His plan was simple. Sneak down to the servant chambers. Wanda would be waiting down there as long as she had successfully brought you your food. She had a set of clothes waiting for him to take along for you and some shoes. Then he would travel opposite the kitchen, hopefully unnoticed, to the prison which was conveniently located in the same hall. He still didn’t have a plan to lure the extra guards out, but he’d get to it when he got there. Then unlock your cell, get you out, and run to the sewers and exit where Wanda would be waiting with a horse. See, simple. 

His heart was beating out of his chest. There was no imagining what kind of consequences would befall his people if he failed. Would all of the people assisting him be condemned? The fate of the kingdom was resting on his shoulders and the worst part was that his people didn’t even know about the danger they were in. He guessed that was a good thing, but would his people rally behind him if they knew? Peter had been a pretty poor leader since his parents passed. His father was a god compared to his leadership skills. All he’d done was endanger the kingdom with his reckless love. The prince was always impressed with his father. The authoritative tone that echoed across the throne room, the way that he seemed calm no matter the circumstances that pressed down on the lives of his people. When Peter stepped up to the throne, fear was definitely expected, but the sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to let down everyone, wasn’t.

This was his chance to prove to not only to his people but himself that he could do this. 

His head turned to glance around the hall. Once he knew that it was clear, he ran down the corridor until he saw the small door tucked away into a divet in the hall. No light illuminated the doorway and, if Peter was honest, he almost missed it. Slipping through the door, he began walking down the steep staircase. He carried nothing with him besides what was on his person, so there was nothing to get caught and make him trip, although he still was cautious. The stairs were already risky as it was, only one foot sideways able to fit on the stairs at time. The trudge down seemed to take forever and it only made Peter more anxious. He should be more excited. He was getting closer to saving you, but the only thing that was running through his head was how scared he was. 

He had only explored these halls a few times when he was little, so the maps were a nice refresher. Whenever his parents were busy and needed to tend to royal business, he would come down here and explore, pretending he didn’t hold the life he held. Most kids in the villages surrounding would love to be where he is, but in all honesty, he envied the life that they held. The life that you held. You had freedoms that he didn’t. Peter had been basically betrothed since birth and was destined to lead the kingdom. He just wasn’t expecting it to happen all so soon. 

The servant chambers were nearly in sight. The light was on in the kitchen and the last thing he expected to see was Chef Rogers so late at night. As long as he wasn’t seen he would be fine, but he couldn’t be too loud either without waking up the entire servants quarters. Waiting until the chef had turned around, he ran quickly around the corner to the servant quarters, opening the door carefully so as not ot make a sound or let in too much light. When he stepped inside, he was expecting the room to be a lot more occupied. With the dozens of beds that were held in the room, only a few of them were currently being slept in. He had never thought about the fact that they worked while he slept, doing things for him to prepare for the next mornings that he never acknowledged. 

Wanda was sitting on her bed, holding a small journal in her hands, writing something down. She didn’t say anything, only motioning him over. No one else seemed to be awake. If they were, they were too caught up in their own world to know that the Crown Prince had just walked in. The closer he got, the more he recognized what had been put together. A small care basket, one holding a blanket, small hand held mirror, and a few apples. If anyone else were to see the haul that Wanda had been holding for you, she would be killed. 

“Just a few seconds more. I have something I really want her to have.” Wanda’s voice was unsteady. Everything that had happened lately had happened so fast. One morning she was covering for her best friend to spend the day in the woods and the next, she was helping that same friend escape the royal prison. Along with the Prince. 

Peter waited impatiently. He knew that whatever Wanda was writing was special and something that you would need to hear, but he was in a hurry to get you out before MJ noticed that anyone was out of place. He let out a sigh of relief when Wanda signed the bottom and began folding the delicate piece of paper. 

“That pile of clothes,” she gestured to, placing her note among the basket items, “put it on.”

“What?” Peter asked. “I already changed.”

She scoffed patting her hand on his chest. “Right. No one’s gonna recognize you with the royal emblem on your clothing.” He looked down and sure enough, what he thought was an inconspicuous disguise had royal prince sewn all over it. 

She chucked the clothes at his chest and turned around. Normally he would be embarrassed to change in front of a girl, but since everyone else was sleeping and that your life was on the line, it didn’t seem to bother him. He slipped the keys out the jacket and set them in the pouch in his belt. Changing quickly, he wondered what he would do with his clothes. After the whole jacket fiasco, he didn’t know what he’d do if your friend also was imprisoned because of him. 

“You have it very simple. All you have to do is go down the hall, the guards are usually asleep at the time. If they aren’t, this,” she took a small white pouch out of the basket, “if you set it on fire, will knock ‘em out in a few minutes. You just might have to be careful. You could take Y/N out in the process and, trust me, it’s gonna be easier to take her with you if she’s conscious.” He only nodded along with the instructions, mapping out the plan in his head. “I’ll be waiting by the sewer tunnel with your horse and your supplies. You think you can ride without a saddle?” He shook his head vertically. “Good.” She paused, looking him the eyes deeply. Wanda needed him to understand how important that this was, how important you were. You and Peter may have known each other since you were little, but he didn’t KNOW you. Not like she did. When he looked at her like a deer in headlights, it didn’t make her too confident that this was going to work. Inhaling deeply, she stared him down. “You realize her life is on the line?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Because you don’t look to enthusiastic.”

Something snapped in Peter. He had been up all night and day for who knows how long and no Wanda was questioning his reliance. “Listen, Y/N is in this mess because of me. And that means that I’m gonna get her out of it. You know her more than anything, and as much as it pains me, even more than me. But do you really think that I would be down here risking my future just to ensure that she gets hers?” He stopped and looked around the room, realizing the volume he was speaking at and making sure that there was no one woken up from his outburst. 

Wanda laid her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “If Y/N trusts you, that’s enough for me.” She gave him a small smile. “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you too.”

“You’ll need it more than me,” Wanda admitted. 

The prince gave her back a small smile. He turned around once before pausing. “That jacket. Can you make sure that it gets back to me? I know it’s asking a lot, but it technically belongs to Y/N?”

“You’re asking me to endanger myself more than I already have?”

“Yes?” his voice scooping up at the end. 

She smiled slightly. “I’m kidding. Now go, we won’t have much time.”

You had been wide awake since you received the ring from Peter. You continued to twirl it around your finger, feeling the engraving that you had gotten special for him. Your butt was starting to get sore from sitting on the hard bed. But you weren’t ready to move or fall asleep, afraid that you would miss Peter coming in the second you closed your eyes. The prison was silent, only the sound of the torches crackling at the end of the hall, and the faint sound of guards giggling at the end. Every moment that ticked by was a nightmare, scared that Peter had gotten caught or something worse happened to him and that all hope was lost. But a faint smoke appearing from where the guards were, made you step back from the bars, scared of the unknown gas. You stayed a fair distance away and slipped your dress over you mouth so as not to inhale the smoke. There was a clang, like the drop of a sword, heard from the end of the corridor and someone emerging from the smoke. Your heart began to race. What if it was MJ or Lord Stark? What if it was a guard coming to take you away so that Peter couldn’t find you? Relief flooded your features when the face molded into one you knew. Before thinking, you raced over to him, forgetting about concealing your features to protect yourself from the smoke. 

“Y/N!” he whisper shouted as he messed with the lock on your cell, waiting for the click.

You quickly lifted the thin clothes on your body over your face, but it was too late, you could feel the effects of the smoke hitting, not strongly, but enough to make you feel dizzy. 

It was nice to feel you in his arms again. After days apart, you both felt deprived from one another. He began to scan your skin for marks and bruises. You could feel his fingertips grazing your skin, not failing to miss a single blemish. You were drowsy, but you managed to pull his gaze to your face and look him in the eyes. Planting a weak kiss on his lips, you managed to get him to focus on you. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. All of this had been his fault. If he had just stayed away from you like he knew that he should have, he wouldn’t be holding your shaking hand, looking into your empty eyes, hearing the shallow breaths. You would have been safer without him. Now, he was risking both of your lives on top of countless others to unsure that the two of you were together. It wasn’t hard for him to decide to come save you, but it was difficult for him to convince himself to come along for the ride. 

“Y/N, love, we need to go. Now.”

You shook your head in agreement, but your feet wouldn’t move on their own accord. Peter felt your grasp tighten on his arm and saw how your eyes seemed to droop. 

“No, no, no…” he mumbled. “Y/N, please, we have to get moving.”

“I-I can’t, Peter. My l-legs.” 

No matter how hard you tried, whatever smoke you seemed to be inhaling was making you feel limp. You knew that this was going to slow the both of you down, but the material against your face just wasn’t thick enough for you to avoid inhaling the fumes. 

In a swift movement, you were suddenly in Peter’s arms, his cloth no longer around his nose. He was inhaling it just as much as you now, but he made a quick effort to get out of the prison. Everything was a blur. You could hear Peter breathing heavily, only praying that whatever the smoke did to you wouldn’t befall Peter too. This was likely your only chance to get out. Another chance wouldn’t arise when MJ realized what the two of you had done. 

It didn’t seem like the two of you had gotten far, but when you heard the sounds of water splashing beneath Peter’s footsteps, you knew you were further than you thought. You had been slipping in and out of consciousness. You were shocked that it didn’t seem to be affecting Peter more than it did. He must not have had enough time to inhale it properly because he wasn’t stumbling or coughing anymore. Peter began to fumble with something on his person, letting his hadn fall from under your legs momentarily. More metal could be heard before a click sounded through the dark tunnel. The small gate opened and you were busy trying to keep yourself awake in case you needed to be aware of your surroundings. Your eyes were closed, but you could tell that you were outside the palace now, the light from the moon illuminating through your eyelids. Crickets were chirping around you and Peter, but whatever noises you were making were louder. Evidently, you had been whimpering because he turned to you, shushing you softly and kissing your forehead that was leaned against his shoulder. The more that you tried to keep your eyes open, the more the exhaustion crept over you. You didn’t want to become a burden in your own liberation, but whatever concoction that Peter whipped up to knock the guards out certainly had done a number on you. 

“Is she okay? You didn’t let her inhale it, did you?” you heard a familiar voice ask. 

“I tried to stop her but she got too close too fast. I didn’t have enough time to warn her.” He paused. “I got some of it too, but I don’t think I had enough to knock me out like her.” 

You loosened your arms from around Peter’s neck enough to get your head out of Peter’s chest. One look at the red hair was enough to know that you should have figured she’d still have a hand in assisting your escape. 

“W-wanda?” you managed to slip out.

She must have heard your small voice, coming over and immediately combing her hand over your hair, pushing whatever was in the way out of your face. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she calmed you. 

“Where are we going?” you managed to ask softly. 

“Peter’s gonna take you somewhere. Even I don’t know. But it’s for your safety.”

You nodded along, feeling as if you were understanding everything the moment the words left her lips, but the more you let the words soak in, you realized what she truly meant. Blinking a few times, you could see the tears falling from her eyes. 

“N-no, no, no, no, no…” you began to cry, sounding more like a child as you hurried out your oppositions. 

“I know, I know. But it’s for your safety. For all of our safety.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” you whined. 

“I-” Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her, threatening to show you just how upset that she was. But she couldn’t let you see that. Turning around, she moved to the horse, making sure all of the straps were secure. 

Peter let her have a moment, responding to you himself. “Love, it’s okay. You’ll see her again. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” His hand slipped under your chin, wiping the tears off with his thumb. He followed your best friend towards the horse, calming you down in the process. 

“I’ve got everything set. You know where to go?”

“Once she’s safe, I’ll let you know. I just… can’t risk it right now.” 

She shook her head in response. “Make sure she gets my letter when she feels better.”

“I will.” 

Wanda stepped away from the horse, ready to take you while Peter mounted. He handed you off gently, making sure that your feet were steady on the ground and Wanda was supporting you enough before letting go. Getting on the horse, made him anxious to be separated from you. While he knew that he could trust Wanda, he felt that you weren’t safe unless you were with him. At the same time, though, you were probably in the most danger with him. The red head supported you when Peter reached out for you. With every bit of your strength, you pulled yourself up and into Peter’s lap and fell back into his arms, just as you were moments ago, curled up into his chest. Once he felt comfortable that you were settled, he bid a short farewell to Wanda, riding off into the forest. 

“Pete,” you muttered. He looked down at you, keeping one hand on the reigns and the other around your back. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about that, just sleep.”

And you did. 

“I want to know where they are! How could he slip right under your noses?”

“Your Majesty, if I could-”

“Shut up! You have been no help to me, Stark,” MJ’s voice thundered through the room. “Maybe your soft spot for the boy is more prominent than I thought.”

“Princess,  I can assure you-”

“Assure me what? Assure me that my only collateral has run away? Assure me that you’ll never see the light of day again? Cause you’ve done a fine job of that so far.”

Lord Stark stayed silent this time, cowering at the creature that was seated on Peter’s father’s throne. The throne room had been transformed into a room of chaos. Whatever magic that had a hold on the princess seemed to radiate through her anger. The curtains that shaded the windows were in tatters, the pillars holding up the ceiling now littered with cracks that only seemed to be growing.The doors burst open, making the princess stand. 

“Your Majesty, we have someone who assisted the prisoner and prince.”

Followed shortly after the messenger, to soldiers began dragging a girl into the room, one that bore an all too common head of red hair. 

“Get off of me! I haven’t done anything!” she screamed. 

The guards grip on her arms didn’t loosen until she was right in front of MJ’s feet, dropping her like a dead weight. 

“And who might you be?” she asked coyly. 

“Someone who serves the prince, not whoever you are.”

A flame of red rushed around Wanda’s neck, making her grasp at her neck and search for air. She could see the red in the princess’s eyes, brighter than the ripped curtains. 

“I won’t ask again. Who. Are. You?”

Just as it appeared the red wisps were gone, allowing the serving girl to breathe again. 

“Wanda. I’m a servant.”

“Well, Wanda, someone tells me you had a hand in the prince’s escape from the palace. Might you have any idea where they went?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” the princess asked, stepping down the stairs, closer to Wanda. 

“Are deaf or stupid? I said I don’t know.”

“Ooh. Someone’s got a little fire in her,” MJ laughed, sending shivers done your best friend’s spine. Her conniving laugh didn’t stop until she reached the bottom of the stairs and grasped Wanda’s chin, pulling her up to meet in the middle. “Too bad it’s gonna cost you your life,” she spit. 

Realization flooded through Wanda as she felt the guards pull her back, she didn’t try to scream or resist this time, feeling numb to the fate she was befalling. She would never see you again, only hoping that you found comfort in her last letter. They had about dragged her out the door completely when she spoke again. 

“You’re not going to win.”

MJ’s feet stopped from ascending the stairs and turned around to face the girl once more. “I think you overestimate how much you puny prince can do.” 

Without another word, Wanda was escorted out of sight and MJ kept walking. 

“Stark, we only have a few hours left. Ensure that Peter doesn’t get in the way. But if he doesn’t give me what I want,” she paused, taking a seat once again, “people are going to start. Getting. Hurt.”

The sun was blinding and nothing you were used to. You hadn’t seen the sun in days and waking up to the bright light was in some ways comforting. Your fingers reached beneath you to feel cloth and a mattress, making you shoot straight up. The room was small, but it was the perfect cottage bedroom, only a small curtain separating you and whatever was making a crackling noise on the other side. You threw the sheets off of you and stepped onto the wood floor. Taking a look around the room, you were sure to be quiet, unsure if anyone else was in here. 

But Peter… Where was he?

Stopping your tour of the room, you made your way to the curtain, bunching it up to see the other side. It was a small kitchen, a wooden table in the middle and cupboards that held food and dishes. There was a small oven with something cooking inside. Peter stood near the window, looking outside. He had yet to notice you, so you decided to let him know that you were awake. You had so many questions. 

“Pete?”

He turned, startled by your voice. “Y/N, you’re awake.” Hurrying toward you, he engulfed you in his arms, picking you up and twirling you around. “You’re okay. How do you feel? Are you hungry? I'm assuming they didn't feed you much. Is your head okay? I know you inhaled a lot of smoke when I got you out.”

Peter continued to rant and ask you questions and all the while, you couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. He got you out. He saved you. He stupidly put his life and his whole kingdom at risk for you. There was nothing but adoration and love shining in his eyes and you didn’t want to look away. You still didn’t understand how the two of you had gotten here. It seemed like only hours ago, he was kicking you out of his room in the palace, too caught up in grieving to care about anyone else but himself. Now, here you both were, in the middle of who knows where, holding one another. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the boy in front of you and now you were sure that he would do the same. Not that you doubted him before, but because you didn’t want him to. You were - are - nothing compared to him. You didn’t want him to risk a future for you, but you knew that if you told him, he would just tell you that he didn’t want a future without you in it. You knew it was cheesy, but it made you feel a comfort that you hadn’t in a long time. You hadn’t realized that Peter had stopped talking, now silent as he stared back at you. 

“Y/N?”

Crashing his lips onto yours, you savored the moment that you two were finally, both consciously in one another’s arms once again. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, one that felt familiar, that felt like home. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you into his body. You broke the kiss with a smile, encircling your arms around his neck. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi.”

“I don’t mean to sour the mood, but…what happened?”

He chuckled at your first statement. “You, uh, fell asleep. Whatever Wanda used in the knock out stuff got you too. The moment you were on the horse, you were out. And I didn’t want to wake you.” He reached up to grab a stray piece of hair falling in front of your face. “I got all of the stuff off the horse. And let you sleep.”

“Have you slept?” 

“I don’t think I could’ve anyways,” he admitted. He was going to continue, but didn’t know if he could put the extra strain on you after the past week. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s the princess. She gave me an ultimatum.”

“I know. Twenty-four hours. Wanda told me.”

“Ho-”

“Peter, look. If you wanna do this thing alone, be my guest. I won’t interfere if that’s what you want. But know that you don’t have to. Who do you think the people would rather have lead them? Some princess they hardly know or the prince that has been looking after them since he was a little boy?”

He wanted to disagree with you, but he knew there was no point. You were right. He knew that it was safer to do this alone, but the thought of anyone else getting hurt on his behalf felt like too much of a burden. 

“Y/N, I don’t have a lot of time. MJ…she isn’t who she says she is, at least I don’t think so. There’s this…aura to her. It’s not normal, almost as if something is controlling her. She’s dangerous.”

“If you don’t want me to deal with her, Peter, then I won’t. But please…let me help.” You paused. “What can I do?”

Giving in was going to be easier than withholding things from you. Trust had become a fragile thing in Peter’s life, but he knew that if there was anyone in the world that he would never doubt, it would be you. 

“I don’t have an exact idea, but I’ve got some clue on where to start.”

When you and Peter got into the armory, you both assumed that there would be someone in there, but apparently, MJ had the soldiers occupied elsewhere. You had completely expected the need for weapons, nevertheless, you were shocked when Peter handed you a sword.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Use it."

"You know what I meant."

Peter placed his sword in its place on his side. "To protect yourself. Look, this is a dangerous situation and I might not always be able to help. If I'm to go head-to-head with the princess, you can't be anywhere near me. She'll use you as leverage, I just know it. I'm not - I WILL not - lose you again."

You nodded, pushing down the argument that you wanted to help. It was a given that you were going to be an inconvenience, but you couldn't just let him waltz into the castle alone. While you hadn't seen what MJ was capable of, you still feared for his safety. Any protection you could provide for him was better than nothing. 

"Peter, I'm not going anywhere."

You stood on your tippy-toes to plan a kiss on his cheek. It seemed to calm him down for the time being while you finished preparing your weapons. You had yet to run into anyone in the castle, but the sooner you got out of the armory, the more you had to worry about running into people.

"When we make it up to the main hall, I want you to go to my room," Peter began. "I want you to stay hidden until I come back to find you."

"But-"

"No, no 'buts.' Stay hidden until I come back, understand?"

You shook your head, following Peter as he ascended the stairs in the corner of the armory. They led through the kitchen towards the main hall. When you reached the top, you were to go right while he traveled in the opposite direction. He wanted to say goodbye, but wasn't sure if he should. He didn't want this to be the last one, but he also didn't want to leave you with nothing. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the little necklace that he'd given you only days ago. He had his ring on the chain as well, taking its place next to his mother’s pendant. You shared a look, yourself not knowing what was happening. Before you knew it, Peter was reaching behind your neck to clasp the necklace. When it was connected, his fingers retraced the chain to the simple pendant hanging on the front.

“Keep it safe for me?”

You had vowed that there would be now tears, but looking at Peter for what could be the last time made your heart want to break. You had considered the possibility of one, if not both, of you not making it out of here alive. But your heart yearned for that not to be true. Peter had always told himself that he could never go on if something were to happen to you. At first you had dismissed it, but the more that you had fallen for the boy, the more that you realized you felt the same way. A life without Peter seemed pointless now. You probably sounded ridiculous, some servant girl in love with the prince, her life doomed without him by her side, but it was anything but. It was your reality. 

You placed your hand on top of his resting on his chest. “You’ll have to kiss me to get it back,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Thankfully, he smiled, keeping his hand under yours for a moment. When he began to pull away, your fingers subconsciously tightened around his, but they weren’t strong enough to keep him from backing away. The throne room was yet another corridor away, where Peter would wait to encounter the princess. He began to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on you. When he turned around to begin running, it felt like your heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. Trying to be strong, you turned too, making your own trek towards the all too familiar bedroom. Your fingers had yet to leave the ring sitting on the chain of your necklace. You twirled it around like you had done less than twenty four hours ago, sitting in a jail cell. Only prayers would allow you to return the ring to him. 

When you rounded the corner, your hand fell from the piece of jewelry to the sword on your side. There was no one in sight but you wanted to be prepared in case there was anyone uninvited in Peter’s room. The door wasn’t ajar and you didn’t want to make much sound so as to alert anyone of your presence, so you only opened the door enough for you to fit through. Your mistake was not taking a loot inside first. One step into the room and there was a figure standing behind Peter’s desk, staring out through the windows into the courtyard. 

“Ah, yes. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for your arrival.”

You cleared your throat, so as not to let the fear show. “Lord Stark.”

When Peter entered the throne room, he was expecting anything but the chaos he encountered. The room that his parents had kept pristine, in perfect condition was in ruin. Curtains torn, metal posts knocked over, cracks in the foundations and pillars. But the thing that made him want to throw up the most was the sight of his fathers’s throne aflame. But it wasn’t just any fire. It was a fire that had a red tint to it, almost unnatural. He quickly had his way up to try and extinguish it, but the flames weren’t burning the throne like they seemed to be. In curiosity, he moved his hand threw it and was surprised when he felt no burning pain on his skin. 

“I was wondering how long you’d wait.” 

At the sound of her voice, Peter drew his sword. Turning around, he as quick to place her walking through the doors, wearing a simple gown his mother had worn often. 

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

“You were always one to make an entrance, though,” she voiced, completely ignoring his comment. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show. But then, again I knew you’d come back to protect your people. Or should I say my people? Are you ready to give up?”

“Not quite.” Lunging forward quickly, he swung his blade, preparing to strike her when the red wisps began to encircle them both. After a few seconds, they evaporated, allowing the prince to see that the princess was no longer in front of him, nor was he standing in the same spot. 

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to draw blood, Pete.”

He ran towards her again, swinging the sword towards her head, but the same thing happened again and suddenly he was in a different corner of the room. Aimlessly, he continued, hoping that a strike would finally hit. But once he took too many steps forward, he sent himself flying into the stairs, his sword flying out of his hand. He would have moved but he could only feel something circling his wrists and pulling him back towards the ground. MJ was standing over him, his sword in hand. 

“How fitting for you to die for your people? They really don’t deserve you.” She laughed as Peter began to pull against the red restraints keeping him held down. Placing the sword on his forehead, she began to trail it down his face, his abdomen. “Any last words?”

The doors to the throne room suddenly flew themselves open, with you and Lord Stark walking through. “Let him go or the necklace goes!”

The princess looked up at you, the necklace in your hand, with a look of panic. “NO!” She launched herself at you, but before she could, a sword was pointed towards her, Stark defending you. “Ah, ah, ah. You heard her. Let the boy go…”

“Y/N, what’s going on? The necklace?” Peter asked. 

“Is a little bit more than one of your mother’s trinkets?” you started. “Did you ever wonder why MJ conveniently showed up after your parents deaths? Your mother knew what this could do.”

“Enough. I’ll let him go!” The restraints holding Peter down were suddenly gone. He scrambled to his feet quickly, making his way around MJ and towards you. 

“The necklace that Peter gave me was more than just a piece of jewelry to hang around my neck. It was a symbol of love and protection as it was for his mother. In the hands of the wrong person, it could become a beacon of destruction.”

“But in the hands of the right people,” Tony continued, “it could protect those around them from the dangers that magic possessed.”

Without another word, you dropped the necklace, stepping on it with your heel before the princess could stop you. Both Peter and MJ yelled out opposition, but there was nothing to stop the now rising gold dust. Stark held Peter back when you blew the dust in MJ’s direction. The gold dust seemed to form a similar pattern to the red wisps of MJ’s magic, encircling her. There was bits of red getting caught in the gold when a loud scream broke across the room, deafening all of you. Peter grabbed hold of you, pulling you into him and keeping your head against his chest. Both of you kept your eyes closed, waiting for the madness to be over. 

When the room was silent, you turned your head to where the princess was moments ago. In her place was a girl. She was crouched on the floor, cuddled into herself, and rocking back and forth. You moved out of Peter’s grasp and towards the girl. The closer you got the more clear it was that she was whispering to herself. You kneeled down next to her and placed a hand on her back. She flinched at your touch, getting out of her previous position and backing away. It was still the princess, only looking broken and dull. Her eyes were dark with circles underneath and her skin was pale. Was this really the same girl in front of you only moments ago? 

“MJ?” you asked. 

She took a moment before speaking up. “W-what have I-I done?” she whimpered. 

You didn't respond, only held your arms out for her and waited. She looked at you with a questionable look. Why would you want to help her after she had caused so much pain? When you didn't seem to shy away, she crawled back towards you and fell into your arms. You could feel her tears falling onto your skin as you looked up at Peter. He didn't say anything either, just watching the scene unfold before him. The throne room was silent besides the cries of the broken princess.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be out in the gardens. Working and living at the palace for years, you had come to find peace within sitting in the flowers. There was something about the scents that relaxed you, allowing you to daydream about a life beyond the castle walls. Wanda would join you whenever you both had a chance, reading stories to one another, playing games at a younger age, and gossiping about the court. Her favorites were wishbone flowers. They symbolized happiness, reminding her that even though she may not have the life that she wanted, she was truly happy. Friends, you, people around her were what gave her a life of joy. You had plucked a full bouquet of wishbones which now took their place in front of her gravestone. 

“I miss you, Wanda. So much.” Tears were falling from your eyes, leaving warm wet trails down your cheeks. “I got your letter. Peter gave it to me when…when I found out. There’s no way to tell you how much I love you. I wouldn’t be here without you and it’s going to be so hard now that you’re gone. I promise I’ll keep visiting whenever Peter actually lets me out of his sight.” You chuckled to yourself, knowing that she would’ve laughed too. You turned around to look at Peter, who was waiting by the horses. He gave you a look of concern, but you returned it with a smile, letting him know that you were okay. “You don’t have to worry about me, though. He’s got me. He loves me. And I love him.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #prince peter parker #royal peter parker #peter parker series

[voidcomett01]

👑🗡

strict king Miguel and his flirty knight Peter

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #peter b parker #spiderdads #royal au #medieval fantasy au #maybe i should do dnd au in the future

[tarjapearce]

Crimson Crown (Pt. 5)

Royal AU! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing cover ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Mentions of poisoning, awkward flirting, privacy invasion, mentions of character's death. Unresolved sexual tension, Unrequited sexual tension.

Summary: As danger looms in the horizon, a new objective is set in mind.

A/N: Didn't feel that well, so poured myself into this thingy ~ Hope your like ✨

Prince Gabriel approached today, I must say, there was something odd about his apology. Not in the disingenuous way but rather a more sudden and brazen one. The kind of way that leaves you confused.

He apologized, yet I wouldn't like to encounter his drunken self ever again.

Miguel blinked to read the next paragraph.

Odd things keep happening. The king has requested my presence today, Unexpected as it was, he is awaiting for me. I won't deny I dread this little encounter, hopefully this meeting brings me a little peace.

Everything seems to be happening at such speed is quite absurd.

He flipped the page with a sigh.

I've met the king where he instructed. And once more he manages to surprise me in such way I am... aghast. I'm still debating if it's a good thing or more of his political side taking over.

He said I was no stranger. He acknowledged me! I know this might sound preposterous even, but I'm glad we can settle for something more than strangers that occasionally have lunch together.

His words convinced me that he cares deeply for his people. Never in my life I've met someone that shares my vision for my future kingdom. It pleases me deeply. He is wise and I'm glad I am able to have such visionary on my side.

Oh...

He blinked as his mouth gave a shaky and surprised breath. His heart stirred in a pleasant feeling. It was odd and that terrified him. His heart was trying to settle a beat according to an specific emotion, but all of them mutinied and sent his brain into a brief override.

"Are you done invading her privacy?"

Miguel glared at a mirthful Jessica.

"This is the only way I can get some direct information."

"About yourself?" Her brow quirked with a little deadpan.

"The kingdom."

"Oh yes, the kingdom, of course."

Miguel rolled his eyes with a shake of his head and resumed his reading.

I was awaken today by the clashing of swords. The king was practicing some sword fighting with his brother. And now I can understand why he is called The Red King, or The Dragon's Claws in Onerim.

That was definitely a new nickname.

He wielded a sword in each hand. His technique is unique, precise and so deadly if one would be a tyro in the arts of combat. Even though it was a practice he didn't held back.

I cannot describe the feeling he... stirred  within me. May God forgive me for such volatile imagination.

His lips curved in a smirk.

"Flip the page."

Jessica's voice made his eyes snap up at her. She was away in her spot.

"You'll get extra patrol."

"Ohh, what did you read?"

"Si si, ya. Cállate, me interrumpes." (Shut up, you're interrupting me)

The power the king holds in his garden is... beyond me. How could he just accept things without looking into it? A bit reckless considering mostly of the plants he owes are either poisonous or quite medicinal. There is no in between.

Peter seemed concerned for the safety of the people that take care of the gardens, must admit his reaction was laughable.

But to my horror, tragedy attacked. There were many injured, but the king concerned me the most. I know his men are dear to him, but he shouldn't neglect himself. Not when he had a deep wound that could end up in a serious infection.

He allowed me to help him. He gave me a chance to prove him how worthy I could be. Hope my efforts didn't go unnoticed.

They didn't. How could he forget about your doting fingers working on him with such expertise, he barely felt any pain. He flipped the page.

Was I too straightforward when I said I admired him? He seemed uncomfortable even told me to see someone else as a role model. He's quite hard to read sometimes.

He's always frowning or scowling. Should I stop trying to approach? Even if we know our duties, I wouldn't want to be at odds with him.

But right now, my mind wanders to my father. He is ill, and I must visit him. Hopefully the king will understand.

Miguel exhaled. His shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his face. Once again the questions assaulted his mind, yet wandered towards your family.

So far they seemed good and they were keeping the promise. The economy kept thriving and so far none had complained of any trouble in the West Passage.

He put the diary back in it's place and left your room. The lovely smell of rich violets had been long gone. You had left a day ago. Nothing had changed except his inner turmoil regarding your safety.

Not that he didn't trust his men. Peter was more than efficient, Gwen was capable despite being young, just like Hobie. And Webslinger was more than seasoned. You'd be alright. You had to.

He left your room with Jessica tailing behind him.

"One day you'd have to tell her that you've been reading her diary."

"Probably she'd end up poisoning me."

"And you'd die a happy man."

Jessica chuckled as he was about to protest.

"Do you miss her already?"

His shoulders tensed and slicked his hair back. 

"How is the east frontier gateway doing?"

"Holding up as it should"

He nodded, "Any complains?"

"Negative. The mutinies have been controlled and the leader has been arrested." Jessica rolled her shoulders to ease some tension, "It's the second mutiny regarding a rebellion we've encountered this month."

"Do you think it's a pattern?"

"It better not. Rebellions although used for higher causes, always bring second hand intentions. With enough fire and ignorant people, it can be dangerous."

His nose flared, frustration simmering in his heart.

"Sometimes I do wonder if I'm doing a good job as a king."

"You can't keep everyone happy, Miguel."

"I know. Still I'm doing everything I can yet it's never enough it seems."

"It won't be for those who aren't satisfied. You're a good ruler. And if this keeps happening, we'll handle it. Like we always do."

"Thanks."

"Besides, you have the Princess now. You said she shared your ideals, hold onto that."

"Might as well invite her for a hearing in a council."

"Don't listen to those old people, they are nothing but square thinkers."

"As long as their interests aren't threatened, the princess will be alright."

"We gotta see her temper as well. Oh! can you imagine her being like you? The scandal!"

"You're enjoying this too much."

"Of course I am. You're worried about something else that isn't the kingdom for once."

"She said we're acquaintances."

"Better than strangers or people that see eachother as something convenient. Does it bothers you being only that with her?"

"It's not that. Wouldn't want to be on her bad side either. You know I don't trust easily."

"You're still seeing if you can trust her?"

"Of course. That's why I read her diary. Her thoughts are truthful."

"Whatever works out for you, I guess. As long as you remain truthful."

----

Your carriage stopped in the outside of the castle. Your mother and Lucille already awaiting. Peter opened the door for you as you stepped out.

Lucille rushed to hug you.

"I've missed you so much!"

The queen joined in a heartfelt reunion. Peter and the rest followed you inside.

"My dear. You have... no idea how much I missed you."

The queen gave you a kiss on the forehead and a hug.

"How is father?"

"Stable. Come."

Peter stood behind you, paying a keen ear to the conversation.

"What happened?"

"A poisoning attempt."

Your hands covered your mouth and the queen squeezed your shoulders.

"And by none other than his beloved mistress. That wretched whore poisoned him once he refused her whims."

Your jaw tightened upon hearing the things that came out her mouth. Another reason to abhorre them. Not only they had meddled with your parent's marriage, but now one had tried to kill him.

Peter saw you tense, now having a wider perspective on why you were so upset regarding them. Understandably so.

"Tell me she is dead."

Peter blinked at your words.

"I assure you this ain't the first attempt she tries. Remember when he suddenly fell ill by an everlasting raving? The whore had diluted datura and henbane on his drink."

"As much as I'd love to handle her treatment personally, I shall go to see the king. Lucille, Peter please come with me."

Peter gave the rest a sign call to remain put as he followed. You were on your element, and it showed as you gave turns around the castle, like muscle memory.

Lucille separated to go to a lab-like room as you walked to the king's chambers.

Guards saluted you as you entered. Heart sinking at the sight. Your father laid on bed, pale due sickness, lips devoid of color, eyebags dark and sagging thanks to the little sleep.

"Oh no. no. Please leave!" You dad whined but you held his hand soothingly

"How could you ask such thing when you're fighting for your life?"

"Who is this man?"

"Commander Peter B. Parker. From Arachne."

"You've already gotten married?"

"No. Not yet."

You soaked a rag on the water next to him as the damage was assessed.

"From all the things you could've done, was to anger a woman that is power-hungry."

"Please, child-"

"You know how that... Sarina is."

"She's just angered, but she will come to me. I know so. This is just a quarrel -"

"Father."

Your voice was stern, laced with anger, yet you kept wiping his sweat.

"I'll have her executed for murder attempt."

The king groaned and sobbed.

"In my time, none went above me. And look how things have changed, ser!" Your dad looked at Peter, trying to get him to reason with you. He just gave an awkward smile.

"It's beyond me how can you keep defending such... woman after everything she has done to you. You might tolerate it. But I do not."

You stood and went to the little medical station that was left either by Lucille or another doctor. Hands ground some herbs as Lucille brought a pot of boiling water.

" You don't know her like I do."

"Oh, my apologies dear father, but anyone that attempt to kill me in the name of love must surely be a lovely person"

Peter just remained watching, until you called him while stirring a goblet with a steamy green concoction.

"Hold the king." You instructed as he blinked stupidly.

"Beg... your pardon, your majesty?"

"Please hold the king's hands. I will give him his medicine."

"If you dare to touch me, I will have-!"

"You barely can keep your own head up, father. Stop it."

Peter sighed and held the king's hands firmly. His skin cold, clammy and waxy. Your father whined like a child as you made him swallow the potion, green and thick drops of the brew rolled down his chin. His face contorted in a repulsed one at the strong and sour taste.

"Thanks, Peter."

The Commander stepped away and let you work. You seemed used to your father's antics at this point, and so was Lucille.

"Now, if you excuse me, I must talk to the queen."

"Your mother refuses to talk to me, child."

You rolled your eyes.

"Understandably so. You can't expect  people that love you be happy for such repetitive behavior. Much less with someone that brings suffering. You're lucky if she doesn't makes you watch that woman's execution."

"Sarina has done nothing but to bring joy to my life!"

Sighing you shook your head.

"My God... why men must think with their groin?! How can you so blind, father? You've hurt my mother with your little childish affairs." You took a deep breath, "You're a king. An old one, mind you. Behave like one."

Your voice laced with anger. A warning tone.

-----

As day passed, Miguel poured himself into work. The reports of Rhino sure had decreased, the villain so far knew to keep a low profile, which was odd. It was against the rouge's nature to be so quiet and cunning, unless someone else was with him. And that meant trouble.

Sighing for the millionth time, Miguel plopped on his chair. One that had to be custom made for him, and then, slicked his hair back. Sometimes he wanted to pull his hair out due the strain he was constantly facing, and other times he really wanted to just punch something or someone.

He was sure that if that desperation would be a human or something tangible, he'd not only punch it, but would try to make it through the same  suffering it was making him endure. His heart beat faster and he clutched at his chest. A few deep breaths was enough to ease his irregular beatings.

He closed his eyes and relaxed his body. His fingers rubbed on his aching eyes. He had been sleeping less and less, to the point of having random yet unwilling naps and waking up tired and sore.

His neck popped as his spine cracked back into place and grunted like a rusty machine. His mind tried to empty itself, gravitating towards your soft and warm fingers on his aching skin. It was the closest someone has ever been touching him in a non threatening way.

Your fingers felt like silk sliding down his upper body, A gentle caress from the wind, a soothing touch in aching bones. Balm to his bleeding body.

Soft caresses on his face and hair turned real, palpable even. Like if his thoughts were taking shape and were now massaging his scalp with such softness it made him groan. He was surely losing his mind, but the touch was so soothing and slumber inducing that he remained still, slowly melting into the caresses. They reminded of yours.

Had you returned already?

His nose was filled in with a scent he wished to have long forgotten eons ago. His eyes frowned as the too real dream now delivered fluttering kisses up and down his neck. His scent strong in myrrh and herbs.

"Hello there." The feminine voice snapped his eyes open and sigh.

"Leave."

"But you seemed to be enjoying it, Miggy."

Dana's voice purred into his ear which he quickly shook off with a disgruntled sigh.

"I said leave." He nearly growled and that made her stop, only to kneel before him, spreading his legs, her hands roaming over his clothed inner thighs.

"I've seen your new toy. Even though she is quite the looker, it makes me wonder. For how long you'll play until you break her?"

Miguel's eyes darted to her as she placed little kisses on his hands. He quickly removed them off her lips, annoyed, earning him a giggle.

" I know you. You like playing rough until your toys can no longer amuse you. But I'm still here, Miguel."

Her fingers roamed his injured arm gently, but even so, Miguel winced. Her touch felt soiling yours.

"Did she heal you, my love? How sweet of her to keep you in good shape for me." Her hand hovered over his groin but he quickly grabbed her by the wrist. "How long has it been since we had some pillow talk?"

"How brave of you to prowl when she is gone."

"I am generous to spare her a bad time, by seeing me coming out of your chambers. Isn't that nice of me?"

"¿A poco si?" (Are you?) His face went blank

"Oh, Miguel. You mockery has turned soft. Just like you. I wonder if it's by that little witch influence."

"Witch?"

"I'd be careful around her. She knows too much." She sat on his lap.

He quirked an eyebrow without amusement. Stoic as ever.

"Follow your own advices, querida."

Dana widened her eyes slightly as she seized him with an undignified stare.

"You wouldn't allow her to do so such thing."

He shrugged and pushed her off his body gently, a cue for her to move but completely missed it.

"Who knows? I might feel bored and in dire need of amusement one day if you keep testing my patience. I said leave."

Dana stood with anger as he growled.

"We are on the verge of war and you suddenly start being all moronic and stupid over a pair of pretty eyes. She has been washing your brain! "

"The prettiest I've seen, indeed." He taunted.

"You are mine. And I do not share. Much less with a witch! For all I know she could've already poisoned your drinks!"

Miguel gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes and approached her.

"Is that so?" Her lips smirked as she bit her lips. Miguel took her by the chin.

"You don't like sharing?"

Dana shook her head and gasped as Miguel cornered her to wall, hand still gripping her chin. A grip that turned borderline painful as he kept squeezing.

"Tell me, dear Dana." The octave lower tone he pronounced dear made her gulp, "Do you see a ring on your finger?"

"She doesn't have one either."

"Yet. The difference between you and her is that she will. You won't." He spat. His smile long gone as he scrutinized her face. "We share a vision. You and I? A bed many months ago."

Dana growled but yelped as Miguel patted her cheek a bit too roughly.

"You don't love her" She taunted with a smirk, trying to swallow the painful stabs his words provoked her.

"What makes you think I love you instead?"

Something dern slithered in Dana's eyes.

"I am not in the mood for your stupid games and hysterics. Not now, not today, nor ever. Entiendes? Stay away from her and my affairs." (Understand?)

Dana stole a kiss, leaving a little wound in his lips in the process, a desperate way to mark him. Miguel snarled and took her by her arm then shoved her out of his chambers, slamming the door in her face. Rejecting her completely.

Little did Miguel know on taking Jessica's warning words at heart.

A scorned woman holds such wrath even you must learn to be wary of.

Dana left, her thinking gears turning and moving. Miguel would learn, whether he liked it or not. He was hers. She licked his blood off her tongue.

-----

"I apologize you had to witness that. My father... Is like a child once he gets bedridden.

"Do not fret over it, your highness. I've seen and done worse than that."

You chuckled as you walked through the gardens, checking on your roses and herbs.

"I always forget to ask you, ser Peter... Has the king been always this serious?"

"Even as a kid, yeah. His father trained us together."

Nodding your fetched a basket and then asked for boiling water to one of the nearby servants.

"Was he as ruthless and bloodthirsty as people say?"

"Ruthless, yes. He is when it comes to protect the kingdom and people he holds dear."

"But?"

"There is no buts, Princess. It is as it is."

"He loved the slaughter then?"

"Not to that point, but he wouldn't hesitate in ending someone's life if it was a threat. As little as it seemed to be."

You nodded and pulled two black roses along some berries to then put it on a kettle.

"What has changed?"

"He got tired of the bloodshed. And so Arachne. So we strive for the peace, wars leave nothing but destruction and broken families in their wake. "

"But?"

"We won't hesitate to wield our swords again if we are called for duty."

Nodding, you poured a cup for yourself and another for Peter.

"Sit." You instructed as you added honey to your tea, "We grow these for our women. In Theleria, fertility rites are quite sacred."

Peter eyed the simmering flower, the hot blend slowly turning into a subtle red-ish hue.

"But for men, it's just another drink for energy boosting" You smiled, "Thelerians are avid tea drinkers."

"Not my business to prey in, but... You're to kill that woman?"

"The Queen is. Can't pry away that from my mother. My people found out she is mingled with King Fisk's men. And thanks to her influence on my father, my kingdom just lost a couple more lands to him."

The tea's flavor blooming so sweetly in your mouth. A stark contrast in the sourness of your words.

"I don't like mistresses for that exact motive. Sure, love can be displayed with them, since royals get together to secure territory, legacies and the like, nothing more nothing less."

A sigh.

"I truly wouldn't want for the king of Arachne to fall under the same curse we have."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Some of our past kings have had a fair share of mistresses. And all of them have had a favorite that for some reason, turn out to be calamities."

Another sip of your tea, "I'm aware that such position influences greatly in a king's judgement. Sadly our past kings thought with their groin." Your eyes stared off at your drink, "And little by little they engaged in wars that costed our kingdom greatly."

"King Miguel is wise enough to not fall under such things."

"Not to underestimate his reasoning, but these women are cunning. You don't see them coming until is too late."

"Princess. I promise you, it's not the case with the king. Please, don't waver your faith in him."

"I will trust your word, ser."

Peter nodded with a solemn nod.

"How... -"

"Will the Queen dispose of her?"

Shrugging you finished your tea

"That is up to her. One would think that my mother would enjoy this, be satisfied even, but little do people know is that she is in pain."

"Pain?"

"Indeed. She never managed to get my father's love entirely, as it was an arranged marriage as well. And after my brother's passing it turned worst. My father's behavior I mean."

Peter sipped his now warm tea, for his surprise it was mellow and sweet tasting.

"He shut himself off from everyone. My mother specially. But with that woman, he seemed a different man. Even I was a fool to believe their supposed romance."

You ate a little candied flower before speaking again, trying to sweeten your mouth after the acrid words.

"It's not easy for her to get rid of my father's source of... twisted joy. But her treason to this kingdom weighs more than a heartache."

"If you were in this position-"

"I am, somehow, ser. And I hope I never meet them."

Peter's lips pursed and nodded

"Would you proceed like your mother?"

"No. I'd step away. There is no business for me to do in that situation. Can't get in between two people that seek eachother."

"I see"

"Why?"

"Just thinking. What if it's a one sided thing?"

"I'd need you to be more specific on that, ser."

"What if the king doesn't partake anymore in such activities, but the other... part, seeks him?"

"Still. Why would he keep them around to begin with, if he has no intention of such activities?"

You sighed once more, "It's more complicated than that, ser. I know that King Miguel has had concubines or mistresses before. But it's confusing."

"Confusing?"

"I'm not one to be authoritarian, and I know it's tradition for you and the rest of the continent. But in my kingdom, mistresses are... heavily frowned upon."

"May I ask why?"

"We value, respect and cherish those whom we decide to share our lives with. Adding someone else in the picture would not only make our partner feel unworthy."

You wet your lips after much talking, "But rejected even, a clear 'I do not need you nor want you'. My father was the fourth king in following such wretched customs."

"Do you feel disrespected, your highness?" Peter tried carefully, and your eyes casted down.

"I'd be a liar if I say I don't, even though prince Gabriel apologized. But customs are customs, I suppose."

Peter could only sigh, disheartened. Naturally he'd had to inform back to Miguel, however your words had opened a new perspective to him. He could now understand why you were so upset about how everything displayed.

Still, the drunk habits of prince Gabriel weren't appreciated.

"Wander the city, have some fun while you're here. I am to remain whitin the castle anyways. Must prepare my father's medical dosage and then I'll have some tea with Lucille."

You stood and left, cutting him short before he could reply.

-----

In the end, the execution of Sarina was a quick beheading, once the king had enough color on his cheeks, you were set to go. With a heavy heart you said your goodbyes to Lucille and your mother, who you had shared the past events.

"If he keeps causing you pain, return. We'll find a better solution. I will not tolerate you to end up like me."

She had said, comforting you at her best. Gwen, Hobie and Webslinger had toured the city with the help of Lucille. They carried some souvenirs back at work. You on the other hand, had been keeping your attention at your needlework all your way back to Arachne.

It took you two days to arrive, three and a half to stay and another one and half day to arrive. A whole week.

The scenery had changed, the might and grandeur welcomed you with open arms once more. Calling you, demanding your presence at the castle as red eyes settled on the window, watching from the horizon at the door, expecting; preying.

His eyes lit up with keen interest as your carriage stopped within the porch. Peter helped you out, Gwen and Hobie followed you as Webslinger returned to his post.

Peter arrived minutes later, a turgid expression painted in his face. Miguel didn't know if to feel worried or even more distressed.

"Report."

"Hello to you too, pal. Glad to see your sour face again."

Miguel exhaled deeply, begging for patience to heavens.

"Hello, please report."

"What happened to your lip?"

Miguel's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

"Then I am not speaking."

"Ah que la chin-... Mira, Parker no estoy para juegos." (Fuckin sh... Look, I'm not in the mood.)

"Neither am I. So you better speak up. What happened?"

"Dana happened. Alright? Now fucking speak."

"You absolute cheater"

Miguel's eyes widened in anger at his words.

"Whatch your fucking tone, Parker."

"I give two flying ducks who you are right now. You slept with your mistress again? While the princess was gone?"

"Funny for you to think I have the time for that. I didn't. She barged in my chambers, told her to fuck off and she bit me instead."

It was Peter's turn for his eyes to widen as Miguel spat his words angrily, nearly seething.

"You should definitely put that rabid dog down. Why do you keep her around if you aren't engaging?"

"Because..." Miguel sighed, " Because I know what that...pinche zorra is capable of." (Fucking whore)

"Kill her then."

"No."

Peter deadpanned, "You've killed for less. You've killed other mistresses before!"

"No. Still, is not easy to get rid of someone like her. You think I don't want her out of this place?"

Peter sighed and removed his gauntlets.

"Everyone warned you about her."

"You act as if you weren't young and stupid."

"I told you, Jessica told you, even your mother that didn't like anyone warned you about her."

"I was nineteen! I had just been crowned."

"And now you see the consequences of spoiling a pet too much."

Sighing, both friend's fumes dissipated, Peter face grew somber as Miguel pinched the bridge of her nose.

"She feels disrespected."

"Who?"

"My hen."

Miguel quirked an eyebrow to him, confused.

"The princess! She explained a bit of her customs and yeah, it makes sense for her to be upset about Gabriel calling her a concubine."

"She's still upset about it?"

"Rightfully so."

Peter explained the conversation he had with you. The king's health, the motive of said illness, the execution; Lucille and your customs. As Peter spoke Miguel's face changed into many emotions. Confusion, anger, discomfit and a hint of sadness.

"That's pretty much about it."

Miguel chewed at the insides of his cheek and gave an exhausted groan.

"No puedo más. I... No puedo."

Miguel wanted to rip his hair out, or scream until his voice was raw. Instead he stood.

"I'll be right back. Tell Jessica to bring in a new dose."

The king left his office, he'd receive the reports later, his steps guided him to your chambers. he entered albeit unannounced.

"My goodness!" You squealed and quickly secured the robe that laid loosely on your shoulders and legs, around your body. Cheeks flaring.

Miguel turned around to give you some privacy while picking his palm with his nails.

"My apologies, Princesa."

Smooth and supple skin was engraved into his mind. He cleared his throat.

"It's... It's fine. Didn't expect your visit. I am dressed."

A shame.

A little part of his brain screamed as he glared at none in particular for such thought. He turned around and you were fumbling with some things inside a little wooden box.

Your face lit up, when pulling out a piece of fabric with an intricate embroidery design. It was Arachne's and Theleria's emblem, woven together in the richest threads colors he had imported.

You stepped closer and offered it to him.

"A gift for you. I cannot express my gratitude enough for allowing me to see my family again, my lord."

"You did this?"

The fabric felt soft on his calloused ones, he was marveled. He'd never had enough time to indulge his own desires and hobbies as they were long gone forgotten and replaced by countless hours of work.

"In my spare time. Been planning on making this for quite a while. And now that I've finally finished it, it's yours."

You placed the thing on his hand and smiled

"Do you like it?"

"I do" He smiled gently, "Thanks. You're quite skilled in this."

"Thank you, ser."

A pregnant pause fell upon you both. Eyes squinting at the broken flesh of his bottom lip. Your fingers examinated it gently. It was a bold move considering you had only touched him once before, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Are you alright?"

A sudden adrenaline rush came to him. His mouth went dry at the sudden proximity you had created between the both. You couldn't help it, the healer in you always took over whenever seeing a wound.

"I injured myself." He lied and his mouth felt dirty, his heart gave a doleful beat as you frowned in concern.

"If stressed, lavender will relax you. Would you like me to prepare some for you?"

"It's alright. Just a stupid injury."

"I differ, but this one isn't that bad."

"Is the king better?" He quickly segued between topics and nodded with a smile at his question.

"He is. My mother and Lucille took a great care of him. I just added the finishing touches to his health."

"What about the Queen?"

"Oh? She is alright. Thanks for asking."

"Do you miss them?"

"Dearly. But my duties remain here. They will be fine."

"I'm glad you made it back. Unscathed I mean."

"Thank you."

Again, he cleared his throat at the uncomfortable silence.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, your highness?"

"I'd like to introduce you to the council soon, we'll have a meeting someday this week. I'd like for you to attend."

"Oh? Sounds like I should prepare myself."

"You'll do just fine."

"Even though I am scared, I will be there. I'll take it as another chance to learn from your kingdom."

Your eagerness about something new always made his eyes soften.

"I will let you rest, Princesa."

He took your hand and kissed the back of your palm. Your cheeks burned again.

"Have a good night."

"You too, my lord."

As Miguel left, his hands caressed and scrutinized the fabric. Your dedication shown in the pristine weave. A red skull spider like symbol surrounded by a wreath of roses.

A symbol of your future union. And now it was all his. He was glad you were home unscathed, that you saw your family and friends. But Peter's words had caused such effect on him that humbled him right away.

He wasn't aware of your customs, never really took the time to take a look on it. Which costed him a big time of his trust. He had disrespected you without knowing, and it was all up to him to fix it properly.

The thought of Dana touching him made him feel greatly repulsed. Touches that he once got lost in, were now selfish yanks and pulls that suffocated and irked him. Contrary to yours, that not only healed, but treated him with respect.

You didn't pressured him into things. You understood his motives, and how his time was used. But still, after reading your diary, he knew he also had to make an effort to keep you included and not sought after just when the conditions demanded your presence.

Exhaustion finally took a grip on him, he just removed his armoring and clothes, too quanked to even remove his shoes, limbs too heavy to keep moving. The bed under him creaked by his weight and for once in a long while, Miguel followed Jessica's advice and went to sleep early. No bad dreams nor ill heartbeats hunted him.

-------

Taglist:

@tayleighuh @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @nxrdamp @a--dedicated--fangirl @rin0r1na @queenofroses22 @sofi786 @murnsondock @okayiamkassandra @kimmis-stuff @ceoofmiguel @meeom @handsomeprettytoes @ladymoztaza @chiikasevennn @mxtokko @gabrielarose29 @oooof-ifellforyou @minalovesyoubabes @kikisstrawberrie @know-that-its-delicate @aikoiya @st0r-fruit @ittybxttykxttytxtty @local-mr-frog @liidiaaag @berlinswifey @eepybunny0805 @vonev @cheerrioeoz @solesurvivorjen @zaunsin @ange-grayson @peachsteven @kdrosebme @geraskier-thots @rjasmin2021 @yehet-moi-ohorat

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #royal au #king miguel #Crimson Crown #dana d'angelo #jessica drew #peter b parker #t writes✨

[im-forgetful]

Everyone's acting like what Miguel o'Hara said is new. Ever After High did it first.

Are you royal of rebel

#wacked this out in like 3 mins #across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b. parker #mayday parker #miguel o'hara #jessica drew #lyla spiderverse #atsv art #yes im tagging this art bc what els is it #ever after high #royal or rebel

[shellshocklove]

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: reunions are always sweet, aren’t they?

warnings: swearing, infertility, smut (+18 mdni!!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this one’s interesting that’s for sure! very curious to hear people’s thoughts on this tbh! 😳 also this is barely edited. i only read through this once!

series masterlist

“Your Majesty! His Majesty gave orders that he did not want to be disturbed!”,

The muffled voice travelled through the door to Tom’s office. He found himself spending more and more time in here. It was the only place where he could get some peace and quiet, and not be bothered by all the vultures at court clawing for a piece of him.

The door flew open, and his Queen, Genevieve, burst into his office. Quickly, and as discreetly as he could, Tom folded the paper he’d been reading, tucking it away under a notebook.

“Leave us!” she ordered the guards; anger coated her words.

She looked pretty, he noted. Her summer dress ruffled with every stomp towards him. Daisies ruffling in the wind. The sweetness of her outfit, dimming the impact of her scrunched face. With a hard stop in front of his desk she slammed her hand down.

“What’s going on?” Tom queried calmly.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Gen huffed, gesturing toward his desk where a pregnancy test was left in her wake.

Tom’s stomach turned at the sight. Like a crystal ball the small plastic stick would tell him his future. With a shaky hand he picked up the test, feeling the sting of Genevieve’s eyes. Holding his breath, he turned the stick around.

One line. Not pregnant.

Relieved he huffed out a breath, “It didn’t work”.

“Are you seriously happy right now?” Gen spat. “After all the treatments I’ve had to go through, all the hormones and a fucking egg retrieval– you’re fucking happy!?”.

“What­– No,” he lied.

And then Genevieve did something he wished she didn’t. She started crying.

“No, you are!” she sobbed, “Why do you do this to me? Do you know how much pressure I’m under, huh? Do you?”.

“Gen,” Tom tried.

“Don’t ‘Gen’ me” she pointed an angry finger at him, “Nobody cares about me– do you know that? I’m not important like you are, I’m just your wife! All they want from me is a baby. Every time I’m photographed the gossip train starts: ‘She’s gained weight, hasn’t she?’, “That must be a baby bump’” her shoulders shook with exhaustion as she spoke.

Carefully Tom got up from his office chair, taking soft steps around his desk, before he wrapped his arms around her shoulder.

“Ge–“ he cut himself off.

“I’m twenty-six years old, Tom, I should have no problem getting pregnant! I don’t understand why we have to do it like this” Gen cried into his shoulder.

Tom didn’t say anything, he only rubbed her back in soothing circles, trying his best to calm her down. She’d been extra emotional these last couple of months. And he didn’t blame her. He knew the hormone treatment took a toll on her body. He felt ashamed that it had come to this. IVF. In vitro fertilisation. Nothing was wrong with them – the tests said so – but he just couldn’t do it. He was married to Genevieve, and still he couldn’t have sex with her without feeling like he was cheating.

“We still have more embryos,” he started, trying to comfort her, “we can try again next month”.

With a huff she pushed him away, “What’s the point, Tom? You don’t even love me! You’ve never loved me”. A tear hung in a thread from her left eye, waiting to spill.

His silence said it all. He just stared at her in disbelief. She’d never been so straightforward with him before.

“Are you even capable of loving anyone?” she asked him, her words tasted bitter. “You avoid me like the plague, you stay in this room every chance you get… When was the last time you spoke to your brothers? Or Harrison? Or Tuwaine?”.

Tom didn’t know if she was concerned about him, or if she was just accusing him of being heartless. And maybe he was. His heart had been taken a long time ago, and he had yet to get it back.

Staring at her, his wife, he had a hard time forming words. He felt his throat constrict around the words,

“I…”.

“What?” Gen spat.

I didn’t want to get hurt again, he thought. But he couldn’t utter the words. When he, again, said nothing, Genevieve scoffed.

“That’s what I thought!”.

She quickly wiped her tears before she grabbed the pregnancy test off his desk. Turning on her heels, she let his office doors slam behind her.

Sitting back in his chair, Tom wanted to cry. How had his life come to this? With a groan he fell back against the leather, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back his tears. When colours started to swim before him, he sat back up again. Scanning his desk, his eyes landed on the paper he’d snuck under his notebook earlier.

Pulling it out again his eyes skimmed the words.

“Dear His Majesty the King

On the 23rd of July we invite all prominent alumni to attend our 200th anniversary as a university. The gala will start at 7pm and be held on campus grounds. There will be dinner, drinks, and entertainment. Attire: Formal.”

“No Queen Genevieve tonight, Your Majesty?” The Vice-Chancellor asked Tom as she guided him towards the gala. He’d been ceremoniously met at the entrance by the whole senior cabinet of chancellors, where pictures had been taken and interviews had been held by the press.

“No, unfortunately Her Majesty wasn’t feeling well” he apologised knowing that was far from the truth.

After their fight and the failed IVF attempt, Gen had barely spoken to him. Having her accompanying him to an event like this after weeks of silence sounded awful. He didn’t think he could put on a smile and pretend everything was fine when he knew she hated him. He also didn’t want to push his luck with her. She’d agreed to another round of insemination – and as much as he wished he didn’t – he needed her to get pregnant.

But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want her to attend.

“That’s unfortunate… Please send Her Majesty our well wishes!”

“Thank you– I will” Tom promised.

Passing through the doors of the ballroom, Tom noticed he was the last one to arrive. Round tables, heavily decorated with flowers, filled up the room before a stage. A steady hum of conversation filled up the room as penguin dressed waiters circled the tables, pouring wine.

“We really appreciate The King taking the time to attend tonight and holding the opening speech! And as a thank you, we did our best to grant His Majesty’s wishes for the seating arrangements– it’s so important to reconnect with old classmates!” The Vice-Chancellor said, guiding him through a door to the backstage.

The speech Tom held was as basic as they could come, and Tom wouldn’t have had it any other way. What was there really to say except for some semi-sincere words about his time at the university, and how important education is. He was happy his speech writer had kept it short because he couldn’t wait to get it over with.

After a round of applause he eagerly he got off stage. The reason for his eagerness sitting right in front of him with an empty seat beside her.

“Your Majesty,” you said, a timid smile on your face as he found his seat. The table cards placed him a chair away from you, noticing that they’d assigned a seat for Gen beside you.

“Miss. y/l/n” he said ceremoniously, trying his hardest to fight back his smile and revealing how happy he was to see you again. A waiter quickly stepped forward after he’d taken his seat, nervously asking if he preferred red or white wine for the appetisers. With a quick glance at the menu placed on his plate before him, revealing seafood, he decided on white wine.

“You can clear all this,” Tom gestured to the seat separating him from you, while the waiter poured his wine, “Her Majesty isn’t coming tonight”.

“How about… uh” Tom heard you speak. Glancing over at you, he watched you shift nervously in your seat. “We just do this?” you quickly grabbed your own table card, switching it with Gen’s.

“Is that okay?” you questioned, biting your lip.

“More than okay!” Tom reassured you quickly.

Grabbing your purse by your feet you got up from your seat. You were clad in a silk dress, one Tom recognized. A memory flashed before his eyes. You in his lap on his birthday. He could still remember the feel of the silk fabric under his hand as he pushed it away to reveal your soft skin underneath.

You sat down beside him, your foot accidentally brushing against his as you got comfortable. You looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembered. He almost couldn’t believe that you were real.

He’d almost not done it – his request. The university had asked him to speak, and he’d countered with his wish of being seated with his former classmates – specifically you. It was a dangerous request – but seeing you smile at him again – he found himself not giving a shit.

“I’m sorry Tom,” you giggled, courtesy of the wine, “I need the loo”.

He’d missed you so much he didn’t understand how he’d been able to go all those years without you. He missed the feeling you gave him. Your conversations. To be understood without saying a word. The fact that he’d barely spoken to anyone else but you the whole night didn’t bother him much. He was like an addict, and you were his drug. An innocent taste was enough for him to never want to leave ever again. His longing for you had not been fed in years, and now it had grown too large. It ached to be relieved.

“Yeah, me too” he was quick to say, getting up from his seat, “I’ll walk you”.

Looking up at him, you tilted your head like a puppy before a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. It hit him right in the heart.

“Escorted by royalty? I must be one lucky girl” you teased.

He’d missed your jokes too, and how they were always at his royal expense. You treated him like just Tom, and no one had treated him like that in years. With a hesitant hand at the small of your back, he led you towards the toilets.

Waiting for you outside the toilets, all Tom’s bad decisions replayed in his head. He was fucking stupid for even entertaining this idea – but he was desperate. He’d denied himself for too long. His stupid head always got in the way. For once in his life, he wanted to follow his heart, if only for one moment.

“You finished?” he looked up from where he’d studied the floor. Your heels clicked as you stepped closer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “no line in the men’s”.

You hummed, swinging your leg back behind you. “Ready to go back?” you asked, smiling.

“Can we…” he trailed off. Why was he so nervous? He never used to be this nervous around you.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, “You okay?”. He thought his heart was going to stop when your hand came up to rub lovingly over his bicep. He let out a breathy chuckle,

“Yeah… just, can we talk in private?”.

Your rubbing hand stopped at his question before you let it fall. You bit your lip, your eyes dancing over his face. Before you answered, Tom looked around the corridor. With the coast clear he pushed off the wall and opened the door to the accessible toilet. You hesitated for a moment, your front teeth digging deeper into your lip before you quickly stepped inside.

At the sound of the lock clicking, Tom stopped thinking – but he didn’t want to think – not if it wasn’t about you. He crossed the space between you, pulling you closer to him. His hands shook with wanting.

“Tom–” he cut you off with a kiss.

He could finally breathe again. He shed his straitjacket. The weight of his crown fell to the floor. You kissed him back, and he could cry with happiness. He felt your hands around his neck. The silk fabric of your dress bunching in his hands as he pulled you closer.

“I miss you” he mumbled against your lips, “I miss you all the time”.

You whined into his mouth. He’d missed that sound, so sure he’d never hear it again.

With careful steps he walked you both backwards until your bum hit the sink. He was greedy. Hands exploring your body, feeling your familiar bumps and curves, the one’s he’d memorised so many years ago.

A smacking sound bounced off the tiles as you pulled away from his kiss. You were breathing hard under his touch. Your eyes looked at him with longing and sadness, and guilt. He shook his head, cupping your cheek to try and comfort you.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, darling!” his thumb traced circles against your skin, “This is only on me”,

“You have a wife,” you whispered. The look you gave him made his heart break.

“It should’ve never been her– only you!” he pecked your lips.

Your eyes fell shut from his kiss. Your eyelashes kissed the soft skin under your eyes as your face twisted in agony.

“I’ve missed you” you confessed.

Tom couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He kissed you with a feverish touch. Hands sliding over your arse where he gave it a squeeze. With a small jump he helped you to sit on the sink, legs spread for him to slot between. He pressed himself against you. He was rock hard. His cock straining against the front seam of his tuxedo pants. Pushing the silk from your thighs, he collected the fabric around your waist. With a press of a finger to your clit, you mewled against his lips.

Tom didn’t waste any time. He slipped his hand inside your panties, feeling how wet you were for him. When he teased his finger at your entrance, you pulled away from his kiss. You looked at him with eyes blown wide with lust.

With a bite to your kiss-swollen lips you gave him a nod. He pushed his finger all the way inside you, smiling when he felt your walls contract around him. Your head fell back with a sigh when he started thrusting his finger inside you.

Tom couldn’t hold back his smile. He’d missed this more than anything. Being intimate with you. There was this connection between you he couldn’t explain, one he hadn’t even noticed was there before it suddenly was gone. He knew exactly what you wanted, how you wanted it, and when.

Quickly pulling out he pushed back inside with a second finger. Under him you moaned. Eager to coax more moans from you he pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it the way he knew you liked.

“Tom” you gasped.

Tom groaned, feeling how his cock twitched in his pants at your name falling from your lips. He needed to make you come, to watch you fall apart for him. He sped up the thrusts of his fingers, every slap against your wet cunt coinciding with a circling of your clit.

You tipped your head forward, “Please…” you begged, a hand gripping his jacket.

“What– what do you want, baby, tell me” he asked. He curled his fingers inside you and hit your spot, making your eyes widen and a gasp fall from your lips.

“I–I’m close” you let him know. Your eyes were intense. He knew he’d drown in them if he wasn’t careful.

He never let up his pace, “It’s okay, baby, you can come!”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as he felt your clench around his fingers. He slowed his movement down as you rode your euphoric high. He loved the way you looked as you came. You let everything go. Baring your truest self to him. Your chest heaved as you came down. He slowly pulled out, gently dragging his fingers through your folds.

Your hand on his tuxedo jacket pulled him closer. Your lips on him in an instant. The kiss was tender and tasted way too sweet. A quiet thank you without uttering the words.

He withdrew his hand from your panties before he hooked a finger under the waistband to pull them down, just above your knees.

Your own hand palmed him over his pants, making him involuntarily buck into your touch. If he didn’t fuck you soon, he think he’d combust. You fumbled with his button and zipper before dipping your hand inside his pants and taking his cock out.

Taking him in your hand, you wasted no time. He was so hard; the head was dripping with precum. With a finger skating over the head you slicked him up, and gave him an experimental tug. Your hand was so soft. He’d missed your hands too.

Falling forward, he buried his head in your neck. “Can I fuck you?” he asked, pressing kisses up your skin.

“Please” you begged, hands letting go of his cock.

He stood up straighter and stepped even closer to you. With his hands on your waist, he pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you lifted your legs, panties constricting you slightly.

Grabbing his cock, he ran the head through your folds before he pushed inside you. Tom savoured the feeling, the soft velvet of your walls swallowing him. He wanted to go slowly, to drag it out, but he was desperate. Desperate for you.

He reeled his hips back, before he slammed back inside you. God, you squeezed him just right. You felt like heave. He was not gonna last.

He picked up his pace. A slick sound muffled by the slapping of his skin against yours, melded with your combined grunts and moans.

He was an awful man. An awful man for loving you. An awful man for being unfaithful to his wife. An awful man for not feeling guilty. Being with you didn’t feel like cheating. Nothing had felt as simple as this. Loving you was the easiest thing in the world. And nothing or no one could make him feel ashamed for loving you.

You mewled under him at a particular hard thrust. He couldn’t control himself – he was so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry” he panted, “I’m gonna come”.

“It’s okay” your breath was heavy, “Come for me, Tom, please”.

The coil in his stomach snapped, and he fell off the edge. He didn’t have the sense to pull out, emptying himself inside you with a heavy groan. He pulled you even closer, hugging you to his body – wanting to feel close to you.

“I love you” he said softly, “I love you so much”.

He was so fucked. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except you.

previous: the wedding | next: the end

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat​, @lnmp89​, @petrspideyparker​, @hollandweather​, @userholland​, @imawhoreforu​, @onepieceya​, @sparklingsin​, @annathesillyfriend​, @mayal0pez​, @transparentpsychicempathkid​, @fic-rewind​, @peterparkerfilms​, @the-unknown-fan-girl​, @mannien​, @moonlightdotmp3​, @padlockedhearts​, @moniffazictress11​, @all4koo​, @angelayse​, @svechnibrock​, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx​, @xxtomspideyxx​, @i83andrew​, @clockblobber​, @fangirlinggalore​, @luciwritesstuff​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @lol-just-kidding002​, @allywthsr​, @captainsbestgal​, @readheadwriter​, @parkersdahlia​, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​, @alltoowelltom​, @hey-im-bored504​, @storybookholland​, @sadisticsongbird​, @prettyjendeukie​,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD

arrives at the Fashion Awards 2023 at the Royal Albert Hall in London, England.

#andrew garfield #my pookie #why is he so cute and so hot at the same time #didn’t mean to moan like that my bad #my beloved #black tie #the man that you are #aaaaaaah #fashion awards #fashion awards 2023 #royal albert hall #london #peter parker #spider man #the amazing spider man #tasm #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #andrew peter parker #andrew peter #sincericida

[a-little-bit-of-ships-in-my-life]

Wait, i cracked the code

#spiderman #peter parker #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #joker p5 #randy cunnigham #persona 5 royal #rc9gn #marvel #bisexual #bisexuality #they are bi they told me #pride #persona 5 #Peter is way too cocky for his own good #but Akiren and Randy are in a chaotic level where they would crack their own asses for it and still keep standing to get it beaten again

[ilikebooksmoviesseriesandanime]

“i wouldn’t marry “i’d marry you

me either” w paper rings”

(we can all agree the lyrics are about & for them)

#good omens #fantastic beasts #young royals #house of the dragon #stranger things #james bond #the millionaire detective #the goldfinch #amazing spider man #the sandman #grindeldore #ineffeble husbands #dreamling #laenor x joffrey #parkosborn #peter parker x harry Osborne #00q #simon wilhelm #wilmon #daisuke x haru #boreo #happy pride 🌈 #disaster gays giving the most emotionally tragic love stories #secrets of dumbledore #happy pride for the sad gays #you season four #goldrose #rhys x joe

[minimarvelh]

Did I mention that Peter would probably LOVE young royals?

#irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #actually autistic #ao3 fanfic #spiderman #irondad spiderson #spiderson headcanon #ao3 #fandom #young royals

[carterthefrog]

specific (arguably over done) fanfic plots that i can read one million times and never get tired of:

peter parker field trip to stark industries (obviously)

prince henry is prince wilhelm's older cousin

marauders going through hogwarts

any titanic au ever (yes even though they all follow the exact same plot points beat for beat)

any hunger games au ever (even though the same thing also applies)

peters 1 2 and 3 stay in touch after events of no way home

when jason grace died he went to hotel valhalla instead of the underworld

haymitch's hunger games

peter parker field trip to stark industries

#fanfiction #fanfic #spider man #peter parker #rwrb #red white and royal blue #young royals #marauders #the hunger games #riordanverse #jason grace #magnus chase #i read way too much fanfiction #and at the end of the day no matter how much i think ive changed ill always be the biggest sucker for a crossover

[sadisticsongbird]

divided by the crown ~ peter parker

a/n: I know, I know. it's out a day late. the story was just getting so long so I decided to make it a mini series! it will probably be three parts, but you can find everything here, updates and all!

summary: one a prince, the other a maid. when peter’s parents tragically die at sea, he is tasked with getting ready to lead the kingdom. when the law and other royalty get in the way, he meets (or re-meets) a maid that will end up changing his life. 

warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst, LOTS of typos

PART ONE

word count: 12.6k��  

PART TWO

word count: 8.5k

PART THREE

word count: 9.5k

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #prince peter parker #prince au #royal peter parker #royal au

[kaeswift]

new blog! :)

hi, im kae!

im not exactly new to tumblr (im 20 and have been here since i was 12, 8 years on this hellsite) but I've just created a new blog for a fresh start! im looking to get back into writing fanfics, so please send me any requests you may have!! im open to pretty much anything :)

heres a list of things ill write for!

(mainly looking for heartstopper and rwrb requests atm, but ill take anything!!)

heartstopper (nick x charlie; sfw only)

red, white, and royal blue (firstprince/alex x henry; sfw and nsfw)

stranger things (ronance, steve x reader, robin x reader, eddie x reader; sfw and nsfw)

supernatural (sam x reader, dean x reader, castiel x reader, destiel)

spider-man (peter parker x reader; sfw and nsfw)

thanks for reading!! hope yall enjoy my future content!

#heartstopper #red white and royal blue #rwrb #nick x charlie #alex x henry #firstprince #supernatural #stranger things #spider-man #peter parker #peter parker x reader

[jackiequick]

Royalty AU - The Regency Era 💎

-> The Return Of An Old Set Of Posts (cuz I’m celebrating 3000 posts on Tumblr!) Check it out 📱

— @msrochelleromanofffelton inspired idea by Bridgerton

— Maiden Amelia Parker 🧹

Sweet and Sassy. Sometimes This girl got a serious eye roll

Works for The Feltons 💅🏽

Lady In Waiting (makes sure everyone is dressed up, brings in letters to her bosses and on time for events etc.)

Usually found wondering the areas to making sure things are alright, doesn’t like to hear the gossip around the halls from the family

— Sir Tyler Sharp 🧲

Nice, a bit of chatterbox, always tries to be serious and kinda silly

Works for The Marsh’s 🌸

A little timid a times but rather a bit of a charmer. He loves hearing the gossip with the the people of the court.

Makes sure the stables are fine, bringing in meals, standing behind holding umbrellas, and hanging out with the help

— Sir Jason Underwood 🛠

Always annoyed with everyone but rather sweet depending upon the person.

Works for The Strange’s 🪄

You can find him always reading a book, sending out letters to subjects, throwing out a few glares to the help and rather nice.

You can picture Afield Pennyworth but blonde, snapping at everybody to do their jobs lol

— Lady Stephanie Foster 📖

Darling, such a sweetheart and a bit of a caring maid

Works for House Stark’s 💰

She will spill secrets and hand over every newspapers with gossip around the land

A maid always trying to have a little bit of fun with the help. Hosting tea parties with the other maids & masters, has a shoulder to cry on, trying out the chefs latest treats and etc.

— Lady Sabrina Wilson 🍰

Darling, caring, respectful and a maiden with a soft smile

Work for The Lehnsherr’s 🛡as her big brother is a knight of the land.

Spends her time holding the peoples swords and weapons, having them sharpened and cleaned to perfection.

Doesn’t care for games and gossip, unless needed. Holding items for her lords and ladies, whenever called for. However she spends her time with the chef of the house

————

The Upperclassman Folk 💠

— Princess Estella Strange 👑

The runaway princess, rather not be dressed in a gown but out in the stables and walking the land.

She tends to be seen in the main hall trying to jewelry, making sure the guards know what needs to be done and questioning everyone.

Sweet, charming with a soft smile on her face, clever and gentle with most.

She tends to be very helpful and always tries to see the other person’s perspective.

As her brother rules, she’s in her corner of the palace reading and writing, setting up events for others in the land to attend, and getting fitted for certain items of clothing.

— Lady Alexandra ‘Lexi’ Banner 🍏

One wouldn’t think she’s upper class like her brother and nephew due to the way she acts and dresses, but she is.

Always told to say quiet, sit straight, talk when needed and act pretty like she’s romanized by the lifestyle.

Carries around a small pet, like a dog per say, since she’s found nearby the gardens.

She tends to have a bit of a temper, getting twitchy at times and playing quietly with her nails, listening to other people speak.

Not interested in falling into any man’s arms that walked past her. Mostly because she’s unseen by most at parties, so the girl will find herself nearby the treats table.

—-

Please keep the chain going: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @drspencereidhotch @meiramel @blueboirick @mandylove1000 @levijeanqueen @morgan108 @sherloquestea @superspookyjanelle @ohgodnotagainn

#bridgerton #oc aus #oc stuff #duke and duchess of cambridge #emily bett rickards #grant gustin #danielle campbell #candice patton #ella enchanted #anne hathaway #eiza gonzález reyna #eiza gonzalez #bruce banner #doctor strange #peter parker #glen powell #spanish royal family #red white and royal blue #royalcore #royalty #fantasy au

[hoeelliexx]

People l'd like to get to know better

I was tagged by @skyfallscotland

Last Song: Lilith by Halsey feat SUGA

Favorite Color: Green! especially jade or emerald or sage green!

Currently Watching: Community!

Spicy/Savory/Sweet: mostly Savory!

Relationship Status: very single, very much in love with random book characters, very much convinced that i could pull Min Yoongi

Current Obsession: mhhhh Fourth Wing? but also Young Royals and im getting back into IronFam!

Tagging everyone who sees this and wants to do it!

#books #fanfic #min yoongi #suga #bts #fourth wing #xaden riorson #percy jackson #community #prince of hearts #jacks #young royals #wilmon #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm #ironfam #iron man #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman #harley keener #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel

[shellshocklove]

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: it’s a nice day for a white royal wedding.

warnings: swearing, no smut but a make-out session and some groping so mdni!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this was semi requested by @prettyjendeukie​. i hope you like this little blurb (it’s a little different)! <3 just like last time i wrote a blurb i don’t know if people are interested in blurbs for this series but here’s another one 🤲

series masterlist

“Your Majesty?”

It was John. With a sigh Tom spun his chair around. For just a second his royal office melded with the blurry feeling inside his head. His desk was a mess. His red box opened in front of him, governmental papers spilling out like guts.

“Yes?” Tom sighed again.

John stood awkwardly in front of his king’s desk, one hand hovered over the back of one of the chairs turned towards the big teak table, while he carried a black leather briefcase in the other. Leaning back in his chair, Tom gestured for John to sit.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I would like to go over the security for the wedding?” John said while placing the briefcase on his desk.

“Yeah, sure” Tom said indifferently. Something scratched at the back of his neck. Under him the leather of his chair squeaked as he shifted in his seat. With a quiet drum the locks on John’s briefcase burst open.

Pulling out blueprints and documents, lists and directories, John started talking, “As His Majesty knows we’re expecting somewhere between three thousand and thirty-five hundred guests. We got the Royal Military Police, Scotland Yard–“

Tom cut John off, “Cut to the chase, will you? I’m sure you’ve got everything under control John. Just hand me the papers­– I’m sure there’s something you want me to sign”.

Tom almost felt bad when he watched John’s face fall. If he’d asked anybody else, they’d probably say John’s face was as stony as a statue. But Tom, he knew John inside out. Getting to know every little micro expression in his hard face over the years.

Shifting through his briefcase John pulled out his papers to slide them across the polished teak. Every paper needing the king’s signature marked with a small yellow post-it. Grabbing his Parker pen, Tom got to signing. As he flicked through the papers, he felt John’s stare.

“Was there something else?” Tom asked, “I can feel you staring”.

His words made John shift in his seat before he cleared his throat, “I was just informed that Lady Genevieve is on her way to the palace and will be arriving in about an hour”.

Tom’s pen stopped for a beat at the sound of her name. This was the first he’d heard of this. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

“I might’ve been told by a little bird, aka Lady Evelyn,” Tom rolled his eyes as he finished signing the last paper, Lady Evelyn was Gen’s mother, “that Lady Genevieve is planning to stay past dinner”.

Tom fell back in his chair again, toying with his pen as the springs rocked him back and forth.

Maybe he was the worst person in the world, Tom thought. Being with Lady Genevieve, his bride to be, made him feel awful. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, she was always kind and understanding, she was good with the people, always knew what to say and when to say it – she was arguably the perfect woman for him. But…

… she wasn’t you.

He hadn’t seen you in over a year. The last time being right after his grandmother passed and his whole life turned upside down. He still remembered that day so clearly. The feel of your body under his touch, how you’d held him so tenderly as he’d let all his worries pour out, the kiss. He could become a hundred years old and senile, and he’d never forget that last kiss. You’d made him feel like everything wrong in the world was suddenly right.

After he’d watched you leave that day, a hole had started to grow inside him. You’d left, and with you you’d taken the sun, and his hopes, and his heart.

“If she’s supposed to be arriving in an hour it’s too late to tell her to turn around” Tom sighed.

“You can’t avoid her forever, sir” John said, “Soon you’ll be husband and wife”.

Husband and wife. The thought made his skin crawl. He was way too young to get married– he wasn’t ready to be someone’s husband. Well… he wasn’t ready to be Lady Genevieve’s husband.

“Husband and wife” Tom tasted the words in his mouth. Then, with a lazy throw, Tom threw the Parker pen haphazardly. It made a sharp sound as it hit the teak before it rolled towards the middle of his desk.

“John?” Tom queried, “do you know, like maybe somewhere in the histories, if a king has been married and his wife hasn’t been queen? Like she’s just his wife, and they’re just together”.

John gave him a look only he could interpret. “I’m sorry, sir, I have not. To the best of my knowledge: when a king marries, his new wife always becomes Queen Consort. You’d have to abdicate…”.

Tom only hummed at John’s unspoken words. He’d have to abdicate to marry you.

“Listen,” John started, “I know it’s not my place–”.

“You’re right! It’s not your place” Tom cut him off, the words coming out stricter than he wanted.

Silenced, but not angry, John was never angry, he gave Tom a sad but knowing face. Tom’s mood told him to leave it be. To not infect his still opened wound. Instead, John gathered his papers, stacked them neatly into his briefcase and locked it with a satisfying click! Before he could get up from his chair his king asked him,

“Could you please make sure she gets an invitation? To make sure she’s there?”.

His king didn’t need to utter your name for John to know he was talking about you.

“Of course, Your Majesty!”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming” Gen apologized, turning to the side facing Tom where he laid flat on his back against his silk sheets, “You’re not terribly mad, are you?”.

“No, Gen– it’s fine, I’m not mad”.

She’d arrived when John had told him she would, and she’d been escorted straight to his office first thing (per her command). Companioning her was their wedding planner and her ring binders thicker than A la recherche du temps perdu.

He wanted to be supportive. He wanted to be as excited as Lady Genevieve. But he just couldn’t. Every mention of the wedding made him feel like someone was tightening a buckle in his metaphorical straitjacket.

“Okay, great” she giggled and shuffled closer to his body, “I don’t think I could bear it if you were”.

“Me neither” he mumbled, lifting his arm for him to wrap around her body. With a satisfied hum she settled into him, her painted nails scraping seductive circles over his naked chest.

“I’ve missed you” he heard her confess before he felt a soft kiss to his shoulder.

One kiss became two, then three, before he stopped counting. They all climbed up his shoulder to his neck and jaw.

“I’ve missed you too” he heard himself say before Genevieve brushed her lips over his.

Against his better judgement he kissed her back. Her kisses were always a little rougher than yours. She pressed her lips too hard against his, and sometimes she’d nip at them in a way he didn’t enjoy. But a kiss was a kiss. And sometimes he needed to be kissed.

She stuck her tongue in his mouth when it started to get a little heated. Whines left her lips between the smacking of their lips. She got a little more eager, swinging her leg over his torso to hover over him, hands cupping his cheeks as she licked into his mouth.

He knew what she wanted even before she started rutting against him. His hands automatically came up to rest on her waist, following her movements above him.

“I’m so wet Tommy– please, need you to fuck me” she pleaded into his mouth between kisses.

Her hand travelled from his cheeks and down his body to slip between her legs. Dipping her finger under the elastic waistband of his boxers she cupped his cock. She pulled away from his lips with furrowed brows.

“You okay?” she asked, her hand running over his soft cock.

Squeezing his eyes together he let his hands fall from her waist, hitting the mattress with a bounce.

“I’m just tired” he excused, “I’ve had a long day”.

He grabbed her wrist to pull her hand off his cock before he’s shifting her off him. Bewildered, she looks at him.

“I’m sorry…” Tom doesn’t know why he’s apologizing.

“No…” she trailed off, grabbing the duvet to wrap around herself, “Don’t worry”.

She turned her back to him as she laid down, and Tom doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. So, he doesn’t do anything. It’s not like he can tell his fiancé that he can’t have sex with her without thinking about somebody else to get hard. He doesn’t think that’s a good way to start a marriage.

“G’night” he uttered.

“G’night” she answered.

The St. Paul's Cathedral was filled to the brim, and Tom felt like his cup was about to spill. Walking towards the altar, with his brothers’ supportive steps behind him, he’d wondered if he was gonna pass out.

His uniform felt too tight. The church lights somehow too bright. The volume of the guest drowning out any and every thought in his head. Everything was just wrong.

He wasn’t just nervous – he was making a mistake. He’d known it from the day he’d first laid his eyes on you in that auditorium, and he knew it now. You’d done your stupidly cute curtsy and he’d fallen in love with you right then and there. It was his biggest regret, and also the best thing that had ever happened to him. It should be you in that beautiful white dress walking towards him. But it’s not, and he doesn’t know if he can bear it.

He’d searched for you in the crowd. Desperate to meet your eyes. To drown in the safety of them. To calm his heart in the familiarity of you. John had told him he’d personally delivered your invitation, practically begged you to be here for him.

He knew it was cruel of him. Tom was being cruel to you, the love of his life. How could he be so cruel, inviting you to watch him get married to another woman. He’d dug your doomed relationship a grave, and now invited you to bury it. He didn’t blame you if you didn’t come. He can’t even think about the fact that someday you’ll do the same to him – you’ll marry someone else.

He tore his eyes from the endless rows of guests, forcing himself to watch Lady Genevieve, soon to be Queen Genevieve, walk down the aisle. The walk felt endless, but he doesn’t dare look away, very aware of the cameras broadcasting this worldwide. He had to look happy, not like he’s about to shit his pants.

With a forced smile he watched as Lady Genevieve ascended the stairs to the altar. The train on her dress covered the whole staircase and her veil looked heavy, held in place by a diadem. She’s clutched her father’s hand, leaning on him for reassurance. Beside him, he felt Harry’s hand briefly on his shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Dearly beloved,” the Dean of the Cathedral started, “we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God himself signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore, if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace...”.

The church is quiet.

A dream Tom’s had every night this week pushed forward from the back of his brain. It’s like déjà vu. In his dream he’s standing at the altar, just like he is now, the Dean of the Cathedral say those exact words, but in his dream the church isn’t quiet. In his dream he hears your voice. You tell him you love him, and that he can’t get married if it’s not to you, and his knees almost buckle. He can’t do anything other than run to you. To hug you tight. To kiss you silly.

But the church is quiet. He doesn’t hear your voice.

The Archbishop step forward, “I require and charge you both, as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, you do now confess it”.

The words burn at the back of Tom’s throat. Now’s his chance. He’s the King for god’s sake. He’s supposed to be able to do whatever he wants. But he can’t. He’s imprisoned by his legacy, and by his duty.

Tom doesn’t say anything. He’s quiet and he’ll regret it for the rest of his life – Tom knows it in his bones.

The Archbishop continued, “Thomas Stanley of House Holland wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

A knife twists in his stomach as he says it, gouging the hole inside him,

“I will”.

With his back turned he misses the way you get up from your seat. Inconveniencing everyone on the church pew, you slip past them and flee the church. You’re clutching a handkerchief to your cheeks, drying what can be mistaken for happy tears.

previous: three years later | next: the reunion

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @peterparkerfilms, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD, FKA Twigs, Anne Hathaway with Giancarlo Giammetti and more at the after-party of Fashion Awards 2023 at the Royal Albert Hall in London, England.

#andrew garfield #anne hathaway #fka twigs #giancarlo giammetti #black tie #fashion awards #fashion awards 2023 #royal albert hall #london #after party #peter parker #spider man #the amazing spider man #tasm #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #andrew peter parker #andrew peter #sincericida