#The ‘Peter aged-up’ tag SHOULD NOT EXIST!!

[unwantedarc]

If you fuckers can’t write good Spideypool fanfics I might have to do it myself.

#Txt #THIS DOES NOT APPLY TO EVERYONE!!! #I have seen so many good spideypool fics out there #But they get drowned out by the ‘small weak Peter Parker falls in loves with I’ll protect you my precious angel Wade Wilson’ #The ‘Peter aged-up’ tag SHOULD NOT EXIST!! #Peter should already be of age. and if he isn’t. DONT USE THAT PETER PARKER. #Both Peter and Wade have flaws and not enough people realize that. #Anyways I love spideypool with all my heart mwah mwah #Spider-Man #peter Parker #deadpool #wade wilson #spideypool

[w33nies]

Qué Maravilla - CH.5

Previous Chapter Next Chapter Miguel O'hara x SpiderReader rating: E for Everyone bby warnings: none? lots of angst tbh summary: the story of how you and Miguel met. From Peter's perspective art is not mine!!!! @ohitsujiza2.0 on instagram!!!!

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Ch.5 - Double Take

‘Whatever happens we’ll make it work.’

When Gwen Stacy visited Peter B. Parker he was cradling Mayday to sleep in his New York Apartment. There was this fluorescent orange light that caught him by the corner of his eye. When he got up towards the window for a better look, he saw her standing there in front of a portal wearing a pleading, almost despairing look on her face. She didn't have to ask, he knew exactly why she was there. And he immediately moved to grab his web shooters and strapped his baby carrier to his chest. 

“This is super bad parenting,” he cooed, pinching Mayday’s cheek, earning a lively laugh from the baby, “Don’t tell your mom, okay?” He then opened the window and jumped down to meet the girl waiting for him below. 

         As cliche as it sounds, he remembers the day like it was yesterday. The day that turned Miguel from an endearing idealist into a cold and unyielding autocrat. You try witnessing the collapse of an entire alternate universe and see how easily you forget. That day was the only time he saw Miguel have a breakdown. He didn’t even think he was capable of having one, as silly as it sounds. Nonetheless there he was standing behind Miguel’s cowering frame, erratic coughs as he was gasping for breath in between harsh sobs. Peter remembers vividly as he stood there with hand hovering in mid air just above his back. At that moment he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort him. He didn’t know what to say. It all happened so fast. The more he tried to force himself to condole Miguel, the more and more the gravity of the situation began to weigh on him. His entire family. All those lives. Hundreds of millions of lives just...gone. 

 Peter was one of the few people who knew Miguel before and after the incident. To this day he still has a hard time explaining to people just how different of a person Miguel was when he had you and Gabriella. Not only was he happier but his approach to leadership and the culture of The Spider Society was unrecognizable. When Miguel found you and Gabi he had patience. He had hope. He had trust in himself and others. He was a team player. When Miguel had you he was a joy to talk to. He was never condescending or harsh. He was funny, like actually really funny. He’d laugh. He had this kind of booming cackle that you could hear from the next room over. The kind of laugh that would make you laugh. The difference from then and now was truly like night and day.

So naturally when Miguel came to him with his proposition to maintain the sanctity of the multiverse, how could he refuse? After everything that went down he at least owed him that much. That was the sentiment he had been riding on for ages and to a certain extent he still did. Call him stubborn, but the shock of that day weighed on him constantly. Blaming the incursion on broken canons was just easier than admitting that there was so much they just didn’t know about the multiverse. That theory had brought him a sense of security, a safety net he was too scared to abandon after what unfolded that day. The real reason he tagged along wasn’t because he had any interest in revolution, he tagged along to look after Miles. To make sure everyone would be okay. To act as a mediator of sorts when things eventually went sideways. 

         It was Peter who found out about your existence first. You were the local spiderman he had to contact when an anomaly appeared in your dimension and you were very good at what you did.

“Hey I don't usually do this,” He leaned on the horn of the now unconscious Rhino, “but there’s someone I really think you should meet. At HQ.” 

“At HQ?”

“That means headqua-”

“-I know what it means thanks,” you raised your hand to stop him, “So what? Are you gonna take me to your leader?” you joked sarcastically. 

“I guess you could say that, well he’s more like my boss. You’ll love him. He's super smart. And tall and strong. He also has great hair and-”

“-Why does any of that matter?” you cut him off confused

“Oh. No, I didn’t mean to- That’s not what I mean…,” He waved his hands frantically while thinking of a way to recover, “...I mean, maybe he’ll recruit you then you’ll get this sick watch!” He lifted up his wrist and pridefully pointed at the contraption on his wrist, “Miguel hates when we call it a watch though, so I just say Goober or Gizmo or whatever,” he twisted his wrist in the air, further examining the tool as if he was viewing it for the first time, “ He hates those too though, but I think they just roll off the tongue better than ‘multiversal-dimensional-travel-gadget of justice’ or whatever crap calls it.” 

You stood silently, mulling over the invitation. The longer you stayed quiet the more Peter would ramble like an amateur salesman and the more he was silently cursing at himself for doing it. ‘You idiot! She probably thinks you’re in some weird dimensional cult.” Just before he was about to admit defeat and take his leave you finally spoke up.

“Sure why not,” you gave in with a shrug, “What’s the worst that could happen.”

“That’s the spirit!” Peter quickly began pushing the buttons on his ‘gizmo’ until a portal appeared. 

“After you,” he said, stepping to the side with a bow while motioning you towards the portal. You took a moment to gawk at the mind bending site before you. It was the first time you had seen one afterall. After the shock wore off, you stepped through.

“Miguel?”

“What?” Miguel was bent over with his back to the two of you working on some tech laid out before him, wearing rimless rectangular glasses. “Can’t you see I’m busy.” 

“There’s something- well, someone I think you should meet.” Peter spoke with a grin and nudged your side playfully with his elbow.

Miguel however remained glued to his work, “A new recruit?” 

“Yeah.”

“Later,” he spoke curtly, ‘I’m working.”

“I think you can spare a few seconds dude, come on.” 

“Can't… I need to draft designs for new multiversal travel gear. The current design is too rudimentary and the exposed wires are causing too many problems.” 

“Miguel, man, you’re really gonna want to-”

“-Peter!” Miguel slammed his fists on the workbench, the sound startled the both of you. Regretful, he puts his head in his hands and composes himself, “Please,” he said in a softer, pleading tone but somehow just as demanding as earlier.

Parker turned to you apologetically, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “ He’s under a lot of stress right now-”

“-It’s okay,” you murmur back. Just then a fallen piece of Miguel’s experiment catches  your eye. You pick it up to examine it closer, “Is this the part of the watch you use for the projection feature?”

Miguel scoffs and slowly begins to turn towards you, “It’s a lot cooler than a-,”

He freezes the second he sees your face, looking you up and down as if to double and triple check to see if his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Once he was sure he wasn’t hallucinating he abruptly stood up from his chair with his mouth agape and finger weakly pointed in your direction.

“That’s pretty smart.” You nod, impressed, and oblivious to Miguel being practically starstruck by you. 

“You-you….”

“Oh here,” you spoke handing him back the piece, “Sorry it fell and I was just looking at it-”

“-Thank you.” He responded almost immediately, he never took his eyes off you. 

“No problem. Oh wait,” you realized, “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself I’m-”

“-I know who you are.”

“Oh...” You shot an alarmed look at Peter. The second hand embarrassment was strong from him. To be honest, he’s not sure what he expected would happen, but this was a lot more anti-climatic. ‘Maybe I should’ve thought this through’ he mentally chided himself. ‘I’ve got to do something, and fast.’

“Welp.” Peter clasped his hands together unceremoniously, “ I mean I’d love to chat! But I’m-I’m sure Miguel will want to tell you about everything and show you the ropes. That is if you want to join of course I would never put that kind of pressure on you. This isn’t like some weird spider cult or something like that- WHAT AM I SAYING? HAHAHA! I’ll be outside. Have fun!” then hastily slammed the door behind him and wiped the sweat off his brow. 

‘Man being a wingman is hard.’ 

Peter never knew for sure what you guys talked about after he left. He tried prying into Miguel afterward and was met with his usual curt demeanor, but considering the fact that you decided to join was a good sign. He and anyone with a pulse could tell you two liked each other. All that was left was for you guys to figure it out. 

        Peter and his fellow comrades sling through the smoggy air at high speeds until land on the roof of the now abandoned warehouse. Luckily, they manage to arrive just  before you guys so they pause to take a moment to absorb the view of the unfamiliar city.

        “Yeesh, this place is a nightmare.” Spider-Noir Spoke spoke, anchored on the wall with one hand looking out into the skyline      

“You’re telling me,” Peter Porker said, landing right after him, “I can see two completely separate buildings that are currently on fire.” 

        “I’m giving it to you square, Pork,” Noir uttered , “Imma need a couple put downs after this. I’ll be dog-gone-tired. Practically livin’ in the speakeasy.”

“Can you guys actually understand what he's saying?” Hobie interjected with his deep cockney drawl. 

“I know you’re not talking,” A certain blue toned holographic Spider-Byte quipped her hands on her hip. 

         “Quiet!,” Gwen whispered vehemently, “They're coming.”

Everyone quickly scrambles for a makeshift hiding spot just as you and Miguel jump through one of the various holes in the structure. After landing you do a slow 360 turn to get a full grasp of your surroundings. Each crunching step makes you hyper aware of the debris that litters the ground. Besides the obvious shambles and disarray there are many other oddities about this scene. Random colorful splatters of paint litter the wall, still wet to the touch, a work bench full of sophisticated tech and weaponry. Broken chains scattered all over the floor, and a heavily damaged punching bag that had a large divot in it, like some creature had taken a bite out of it.

As you and Miguel investigate, the eavesdropping spiders begin commuting in hushed whispers through the call features of their web watch. “Look at them.” Pavitir says peering through a hole in the roof  “This ‘will-they won’t they’ relationship they have going. So close yet so far.” He sighs dreamily, resting his chin on his hands “Don’t you guys just love a slow burn romance.” 

“Yeah,” Peter responds, full of endearment, " they're good for eachother.” 

 “Has Miguel told them ?” Pavitir continues, “ About, you know, their…history?” 

Peter lets out a small sigh, “No, he hasn't.” 

“Ugh, that somehow makes it even better.” Pavitir was now swaying his legs back and forth in the air, peering down at the lovers from his peephole on the roof.  “The tension between these two tensions is crazy. How can they even concentrate?” 

Gwen rolled her eyes, ”You say that about everyone.” 

“Only when it’s true, ” he proudly put his palm to his chest. “I'm very good at reading people. Like how you and Miles-”

“-Pav! Shut Up.” Gwen loudly whispered, now completely flustered.

Spider-Byte’s blue-toned avatar gave a small chuckle and rolled her eyes. “Peter, remind me again why you brought your baby on this very dangerous, high stakes mission.” 

“She’s learning. Everybody knows the best way to learn is under extreme pressure. Plus, she’ll be quiet.” Peter plants a small kiss to the top of Mayday's head then brings a finger to his lips, “Shhhhh”. 

“Shhhhhhhhhh.” The baby sputtered in response before giggling in her hands

“See? She’s a fast learner.” Peter then plants another kiss on her head. 

Gwen and Hobie exchanged amused looks from their shared hiding spot, “I'm not sure that-”

“Can we PLEASE be quiet?” Peni Parker sat in her giant collapsible robot hiding in the midst of the rubble just outside the building,

“Before we all become interdimensional wanted renegades.”

“Oh yeah, right, activating stealth mode.” Peter brings his attention back to the skylight that he established as his spying spot.”   As he silently eavesdrops Peter's thoughts drift to his protegee Miles.  “Hang in there kid,” Peter mumbled to himself with his eyes glued to the scene, “Wherever you are, just hang in there.”

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #astv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader

[seek--rest]

I’m sorry, but unpopular opinion here, but I DID hate it when Peter spent too much time sucking up to Tony. The whole idea of Spider-Man is that, unlike other superheroes, he’s on his own most of the time.

Lmao I think you’re new here because this isn’t an unpopular opinion around here by any means. This is likely a response to this post’s tags which was proving a point: I’d bet money there’s some irondad blogger out there that doesn’t like the marvels for x reason, thinking she’s a try hard or whatever or— and this is the most cursed take but still possible— thinking it’s just “trying to recreate irondad” while also writing the woobified biodad cuddly shit known to man.

Peter being a fanboy for Tony is a bad thing but I’ll also push back and say canonically? He… didn’t really do a lot of that. Ever. The excited, stammering, tripping over themselves kind of babbling Kamala does for Carol does not exist in the MCU between Peter and Tony. That’s an irondad made up thing for fanfic that has seeped into the collective conscious.

Did Peter look up to Tony? Yes. Rely on him more than Spider-Man ever should? Absolutely. Never once critically thought about Tony’s presence in his life? Yep! Are those all problems??? You bet!!!

But Peter didn’t suck up to Tony and that’s exactly the point: the same middle aged white women people who write this exact brand of irondad would be just as likely to roll their eyes at Kamala or say they “just don’t identify with her” or whatever other excuse to explain their own subconscious or blatant racism and misogyny.

tl;dr cool thoughts, not unpopular.

#seek speaks #irondad #the marvels spoilers

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Wishing Upon A Shooting Star

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49697806 by jiya2trappy "i wish... i wish for a good life, one where parker luck doesn't exist, one where those i love don't die. one where peter parker is seen as important." "wishing upon a shooting star? c'mon, spidey, you should know only kids do that." "i know but i need some hope." - peter parker, a 14-year-old who's living relatives are all deceased, has been placed in an orphanage with several other children his age. however, this orphanage is ran by an awful sadistic person, who enjoys kids being hurt and blood running down their small and innocent faces. how would peter get the help he needed? and support the other orphanage kids as well? Words: 3567, Chapters: 3/12, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Original Characters Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Orphan Peter Parker, found family trope, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Angst, Child Abuse, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Wattpad, peter goes through a lot so sorry, jokes not sorry ahaha, I wrote this about a year ago, I Wrote This While Listening to Mitski's Music read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/49697806

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

[hotidiotsummer]

What’s up, sluts! It’s the most wonderful time of year again! That’s right! Hot Girl Summer of 2022 is here. You know the drill. Once again utilizing thorough research strategies such as excluding any tag that did not directly involve Peter and MJ, and scrolling very quickly on each page, we found that this year, there are 313 explicit fics. That’s 116 more than last year! Great work everyone! Round of applause! Pat yourselves on the back. You’ve earned it, champ.

(Note: while we are aware of the existence of fics with the M rating that contain some smut, our research exclusively focuses on fics that are rated E).

Still, we feel as though there can be even more. 

And once again, we present our solution:

HOT IDIOT SUMMER 2022

The collection of Spideychelle works centered around thotty activities is back, babey! Just like last year, it will be open from June 1st to August 31st. 

Housekeeping Items:

No prompts. Only vibes.

There will be no dedicated prompts or days. Write whatever you want, whenever you want!

If you need some inspiration, here are a few lists that can help!

100 Smut Dialogue Prompts

Smut Prompt List

Kink Prompt List

Smutty Prompts

Sentence Starts. Flirty/Suggestive/NS*W Edition

Starting June 1st (yes, we know that’s not the first day of Summer, but Hot Girl Summer isn’t about when you start) post on Tumblr and/or to the collection on AO3.

Make sure to tag us so that we can reblog your work!

We know that there are other events this summer. Explicit works you make for those can be added to our collection!

So what exactly can we do?

Lots! Writing (drabbles, blurbs, three sentence fics, full-blown 100k slow-burn friends to lovers if that’s your vibe, etc.) and art on any medium (moodboards, sketches, digital art, animation, etc., as long as it follows our guidelines).

Any Rules?

Non-con/dub-con are strictly prohibited.

NO RACISM, SEXISM, HOMOPHOBIA, PEDOPHILIA, OR AGE-INAPPROPRIATE SHIPS

If there are any issues that you see, don’t hesitate to communicate with us!

REMEMBER: Tags are very important.

Not everyone has the same interests and experiences. Please include necessary trigger warnings.

We reserve the right to deny any creations that we feel can cause harm.

If there is any question as to whether or not you should tag something, feel free to reach out, but the safest bet is to just tag it.

This is a strictly Spideychelle collection, however threesomes (lol) and more are more than welcome as long as they follow the rules above.

Link to Collection

In further research, we hope this resolution increases our data for the Spideychelle tag. Thank you for your time.

#spideychelle #petermj #peter parker/mj watson #peter parker/michelle jones #peter parker/michelle jones-watson #peter parker #mj watson #michelle jones #michelle jones-watson #peter x mj #hot idiot summer #hot idiot summer 2022 #spidey #ffh #nwh #hoco #spiderman #smut prompts

[limetimo]

RAB FICS I READ May

L'Astre Noir by Calypte black bros being bros (6 years age difference)

unremarkable days. by sadgorl focus wolfstar, regulus is in sirius' custody

This Is Why I Hate Mondays by AtomicMint crack spoofs

What We Do For The Cause by piximera for greenmegsnoham regulus seduces voldy to learn his secrets. it sucks (the plan, not the fic)

Take my love as the antidote, use me to treat your pain by fairies_withspirits sirius and regulus having comfort sex

Little Star (How Could I Love You If I Stayed?) by fairies_withspirits black bros cest

Two Knights Defence by Keysie  idk man dorcas regulus and remus are all werewolves under Queenie's plotty plots

We are Malfoys and we are Blacks: Pre-Hogwarts by Kiramiel regulus reborn as draco's twin

A Boy and his Cat by aCanadianMuggle regulus spends time with sirius secretly

Draco Malfoy and The Portrait at the End of the Hall little draco finds Regulus' portrait in the Manor. it changes things

been waiting a lifetime (to be with you) by justprompts harry and draco time travel

Three's Family by darkbluedark draco and harry time travel to Wiz war 1

Moonlight Shenanigans by puddinghater26 regulus went with snape and got werewolfed

El Reyezuelo de El Dorado by AmethystHeart2421 for greenmegsnoham regulus is wanting to fuck a werewolf, specifically his brother's boyfriend. it um kinda backfires???? idk its been a while since i read it

hair dye by justice_for_rab wrong number au jegulus

you'd ruin me with a smile by Valeriesgirl wrong number au jegulus

no ones gonna love you by allforthegayz wrong number au jegulus

The Cadence of Part-time Poets by motswolo wolfstar focus band au regulus is there

black, mirror shards by puddinghater26 sirius leaves Regulus the mirror when he runs away flash forward to the cave you get the gist very angsty very powerful very beautiful

Tale As Old As Time by xojosten Regulus and James get yot forward in time to golden trio's 8th year

to the dark lord by justwhatialwayswanted  !!!!!!!!!!! good shit. not joining voldemort not joining dumbledore but a secret third thing (creating a side of your own)

A Little Bird Told Me by MidnightStargazer regulus doesnt go to the cave and claims imperius. it's a bummer when voldy comes bakk in 95

The Sounds of Us by Sniper_Jade regulus/remus, regulus' music sooths remus' werewolf pains, v cute premise

Wolfsbane of My Existence by AmethystHeart2421 ravenclaw remus, remus/regulus

**Bonus Scene** - Shower Wank by AmethystHeart2421 wolfsbane of my existence regulus wanks in the shower

Sky Full of Stars by TowardTheStars focus is sirius and child sexual abuse in hollywood, mind the tags it gets really fucked up around chapter 18ish. severus/sirius, regulus is freinds with severus and lily

Umbrella Drinks by Patriceavril for nanneramma the suit life of peter and regulus (yes i made it a zac and cody reference lol)

Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars for moonymoment  i didn't read it because i knew it'd make me sad but ppl are going bonkers over it. hunger games au

The Journal of Regulus Arcturus Black by gokioh draco finds regulus' journal. it helps him make better decisions re: voldy

Waters Run Deep by knight_bus_of_doom crying creaming throwing up. can be rad alone but you really should read the first part of the series to get the maximum emotions out of it

The Only Faith We Have (is faith in us) by orphan_account jegulily modern muggle detectives au

The Life and Death of Regina Black by Sniper_Jade trans regulus said fuck it we ball

New Year's Eve, 1981 by MidnightStargazer this was really good. reading the series The Ancient and Ever-Changing House of Black is adviced

the hold you have on me by mcplestreet for swoons james smells regulus in his amoretia and gets really stalkery about it

grow as we go by quynhorlose sirius and his hair centric

Domestic Fluff (literally) by Zoya1416 they go fabric shopping!

Reborn from the Ashes by MidnightStargazer regulus teaches ancient runes and hunts horcruxes and also sirius escapes azkaban

I was enchanted to meet you by coincidences vernon dies and petunia starts dancing the new mysterious bachelor from number 6 (regulus) very neat i loved it

daisy chain lovers by Beyond_the_Grace petunia/regulus this is such a tiny ship but omg

#fic rec #regulus black #scrolling through my history and seeing 4 wrong number/texting fics in a row is somehow even more embarrassing than a wall of PWP

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 17

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

Notes: Please remember to read the tags/warnings listed and read/avoid as best for you. YOU are responsible for the content you chose to consume on the internet.

<<<>>>

Chapter 17

<<<>>>

Twenty-two hours, forty-seven minutes, and thirteen seconds.

That's how long the surgery took, staring with preparing the surgical suite and finishing by moving their patient to recovery. The clean-up of the suite including sterilization of equipment that wasn't single-use and rolling in the UV sanitizing droids would take a further three hours.

Stephen had been "nominated" (read: outvoted) by the team to speak to the patient's family. It was probably his least favorite part of his job; he wasn't good with strong displays of emotion and always felt awkward. However, he knew his duty and went to do it.

Mr. Cage and his wife stood when they saw him come into the waiting room, hands clasped and holding onto each other for dear life. Any news they'd have gotten throughout the surgery would have been vague and had to be hell for any loved ones remitted to the waiting room.

"There were a few minor complications during the surgery, the most notable of which is that when we went in, we found that the tumor had spread to her left lung. Doctor Reyes did have to excise a small part of the lobe and send it to pathology, but the margins came back clear. We are expecting she will pull through, but we will be monitoring her closely for the next twenty-four hours. A nurse will come to escort you to her room once she's out of recovery and settled into ICU. The oncologist will be following up with you tomorrow to discuss treatment plans and rehabilitation but overall, the prognosis is positive." He allowed himself to smile. "Danielle is quite the little fighter."

Tears rolled down the man's cheek and he pulled his wife even closer. "Thank you," he said, voice shaky. "Thank you for saving our little girl. You'll tell the others, too?"

"I will," he promised. He nodded to the wife. "Ms. Jones."

He returned to the small surgeons' lounge and joined the others. Dr. Blake, Dr. Cho, and Dr. Simmons would be on-call for the next twelve hours should any adverse events arise with their patient. Someone had ordered pizza, breadsticks, and salads along with various brands of soda and he gratefully loaded his plate - heavy on the pizza and breadsticks. He ignored hunger during surgeries with ease but afterwards he was always famished.

"Do you want to stick around for a bit and hang out with us tomorrow evening?" Dr. Blake asked. "We were talking about going to a show."

Stephen finished chewing and swallowed before answering. "I'm afraid not," he said. "I appreciate the invitation but I'm eager to get back home to my husband."

It was the truth. He missed Peter, far more than he'd thought he would. Since he'd lucked out of the pool to determine who would be on-call post-surgery, he'd get to go back to his little apartment after he finished eating. The room had a little radio and though it wouldn't be the same, he had every intention of tuning it to Rex Gladstone, Ace Detective and maybe playing a few hands of Solitaire or Pyramid.

He felt ridiculous, but Friday evenings with Peter had become the highlight of the week for him.

"How is married life treating you?" Dr. Montesi asked.

"It's different," he said truthfully. "He and I are both figuring things out, particularly as it's a BCSS marriage, but so far we haven't murdered each other."

"The best advice I can give is to just communicate," Nurse Morales said. She'd strolled into the lounge to grab food like she had every right to be there and not a one of them contradicted her. "Everyone likes painting marriage like some fairytale where you're both on the same page all the time and it's just not that. It's work, but so long as you're both willing to put that work in and not run from your problems, it's wonderful."

Communication.

Stephen wanted to groan. He wasn't good at it. He'd been making the effort for Peter's sake but talking about feelings and such was not his strong suit.

More to the point, why would Peter even want to put in work for something he could be free of in roughly ten months or so?

"Thanks for the advice," he said.

He'd have never believed that he would want Stephen around, especially during that first week, but... Peter missed him. He missed Stephen a lot more than he thought he would.

Peter had little motivation to do anything as it approached evening on Friday. The house was spotless, and the yardwork done for the year. He didn't have any laundry left to do, either. He'd have leftover tuna casserole but what was he supposed to do with the rest of the evening?

There were playing cards, he knew. Maybe he'd just listen to the radio show by himself and play some Spider and FreeCell. It wouldn't be the same as his Friday evenings with Stephen, but it would be close.

That wouldn't be weird, right?

When the time rolled around, he tuned the PymCo. console's radio in the den and set up the deck of cards for FreeCell.

It was a little sad, he decided, but not weird.

On Saturday morning, Stephen took the first zeppelin back to Upper York after he'd gone through the usual professional goodbyes with his colleagues and getting one last update on their patient. (Doing well, chatting animatedly with her parents.

"Make sure those two each get eight hours of sleep. They'll be of no use to her if they're exhausted wrecks.")

He wanted to be home, in his comfortable, well-styled Cape Cod, enjoying a relaxing weekend with his husband.

And wasn't that whole sentiment something new? Before Peter, he'd have stayed and gone out with his colleagues, exploring what the city had to offer. He wouldn't have tried to get home any earlier than Sunday evening.

He was sure Peter would have appreciated the extra free time if he'd chosen to stay, at least.

No one snored on the flight home, thankfully.

It was just starting to grow dark when he made it to the driveway. He immediately noticed that the lawn had been cut and the flowerbeds were all free of flowers and topped with mulch. Potted chrysanthemums were on either side of the red door, and a tasteful wreath of autumn flowers hung against the red.

He smiled at the sight. It looked inviting.

Peter must have heard him pull in because he opened the door before Stephen could do it. "You're back!" he enthused, smiling widely. "Let me get that for you!"

Surprised, Stephen could only stand still as Peter took Stephen's suitcase and rolled it in the direction of the laundry room.

He came back, fairly bouncing on his feet. "I didn't burn the place down," he said.

Stephen let out a small snort of laughter. "I can see that." He raised a brow. "And you didn't gamble it away over cards, being the card shark you are?"

"Definitely not," Peter said, playing along. "I bust my back keeping this place clean, I'm not about to lose it!"

"Small favors."

"So, I haven't started dinner because I wasn't sure when you'd be back, and the casserole I made is basically gone, but I can probably get something thrown together."

Stephen considered. "I should have called but I just wanted to get home. How about we go out for dinner?" Seeing that Peter looked indecisive, he added slyly, "I'll even let you read the menu."

That got a laugh out of Peter. "Wow," he teased. "The generosity astounds me. Will I get to order for myself?"

"That might be pushing it," Stephen said, smiling. "We'll change into something a bit more formal, and I'll drive us back to that restaurant."

"Yeah, okay."

It was what their first time out to dinner should have been, Peter thought. The ambience was still wonderful with the dark wood paneling and soft rose lighting. The tablecloths had been switched from primrose to a rich pumpkin color in deference to the autumn season and the flowers in the crystal vases were a mix of chrysanthemums, pansies, and sunflowers.

Stephen smirked as he handed Peter the menu for his perusal. "By all means."

Peter read it for a moment or so and then looked at Stephen, confused. "There aren't any prices," he said with a frown. "I don't understand."

The smirk dropped from Stephen's face instantly. "Oh." He looked... embarrassed, now. "High-end restaurants like these don't list prices. Part of it is so no guest is embarrassed by the price of the item they want to order, and the other part is the assumption that anyone eating at the establishment can afford to do so."

It made an odd kind of sense?

"Rich people are so weird," Peter said, finally. He’d never understand rich people logic.

Stephen only nodded. "That we are."

"So, I can get anything, right?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Stephen said. "Whatever you'd like."

When the waiter came to take their order, Peter went with his safest option.

"I'll have the grilled salmon with the roasted squash medley, please. And a lemon fizzy water."

The waiter turned to Stephen who shrugged. "I'll have the same and please add an order of garlic rolls, as well."

The waiter left to put in their orders.

"I have eaten more fish in the past two months than I'd normally eat in a year," Stephen said.

"It's good for you," Peter said. "Lots of those omega-3s and minerals doctors are always harping on about."

"But you've never had shrimp or lobster," Stephen said.

"Oh no, I've had them," Peter said with a laugh. "I just don't eat them. Really, it's ‘I don't eat then anymore,’ I guess. I kind of went through a rebellious phase when I was about fifteen. I ate bacon, shrimp, cheeseburgers, and lots of stuff I'm not supposed to. And I skipped shul and a few various other things."

"You little hellion," Stephen teased.

"It was this whole...thing, I guess. I was angry and nothing seemed to matter so why not see what the big fuss was? Anyways, I got over myself and back into the swing of things after a few months. Aunt May and I couldn't always keep kosher, but we did our best and I once again became a perfect little malach."

"I'm assuming that last word means angel?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah." Eager to get off the topic, he changed it. "I haven't had a chance to ask. How did everything go up in Chicago?"

Stephen seemed like he knew what Peter was up to, but let it go. "It went as well as we could have hoped. There were a few minor complications, but they'll make it."

Peter beamed at him, relieved. "I'm glad to hear that. I figured you wouldn't feel like a night out if things had gone terribly, but it's good to be sure."

"It was a very long twenty-two hours and change. I didn't really notice it while I operated, though. I never do," Stephen said.

"What about after?" Peter asked.

"Usually all I want to do is eat and then sleep. Sometimes that's exactly what I'm able to do, other times there are additional patients to see or consults to conduct." He smiled slightly. "Or there's a standing date with the radio hero Rex Gladstone and a game or two."

It took Peter a moment to understand what Stephen said. Stephen... Stephen had actively made time for their Friday nights? Did he enjoy them as much as Peter did?

"I still had it, you know," Peter said after the waiter brought their lemon fizzy waters. "Our game night. I turned the console on to the show and played a few rounds of FreeCell."

"I played Pyramid," Stephen admitted, looking sheepish. "The hospital apartment had a little radio, and I wasn't tapped for post-op monitoring so I figured I may as well."

"Did you call it?" Peter asked. "The twist with Rex's sister being an Italian spy?"

"I did," Stephen said. "Mayor Winthrop's secretary being a CSB operative though, that one surprised me."

"The beagle survived, at least," Peter said with a laugh. "I think we're on Rex's third car since we started listening on Friday nights."

"And somehow he's never in the car when it explodes," Stephen said. "It's as though he has plot armor."

"Well, he has managed to defuse bombs with his hands literally tied behind his back and uncover decades of fraud at the county fair, so yeah."

With delicious food and easy, light-hearted conversation, it was definitely what their first dinner should have been, Peter thought.

Stephen gave Peter a look when he started locking the house for the night. "Bedroom," he said.

Peter all but raced up the stairs and started undressing. In his eagerness he forewent folding his clothing and tossed each article in the hamper. He scrambled onto the bed to wait.

Stephen, when he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him, was much more controlled. He watched Peter as he loosened and unknotted his tie. The way he unbuttoned his shirt felt painfully slow to Peter, but he enjoyed watching as Stephen's chest was gradually revealed. His pants followed, briefly preceded by his belt. Hell, the man even made stooping to remove his socks look sensual! Best of all was the way Stephen's heavy cock grew against the confines of his heather-grey briefs.

"Please," Peter whispered.

"Please what?" Stephen prompted.

"I want you to fu-" he caught himself. "Take me, please."

Stephen's lips twitched into quick smirk. "Good boy," he praised, pulling down his briefs and stepping to the nightstand where he kept the lubricant. "So needy but still following his rules."

"It will feel a lot more rewarding when you're actually inside me," Peter said.

Stephen laughed and joined him in bed. "Sometimes I do enjoy that smart mouth of yours," he admitted. "It amuses, frustrates," Stephen ran a thumb over Peter's lips. "And pleasures me."

The first few times they'd had sex, Peter had been baffled at how long Stephen spent getting him ready, stroking and caressing with one hand while the other worked him open. According to one of the instructors at the BCSS, sex was a perk to be enjoyed by the selecting spouse, so he didn't understand why Stephen seemed so determined to be... almost sweet about it when he certainly wasn't gentle once he actively started fucking him.

It didn't mean he wasn't grateful for the prep, of course, because taking Stephen's impressive length without it would have been painful. By the fifth or sixth time, Peter had ceased to be annoyed; Stephen's hands were skilled. And even knowing that it meant nothing more than a physical release for the man, Peter could pretend he was cherished.

He relaxed into the way Stephen went about getting him stretched and let himself enjoy the way Stephen touched him. Hell, those hands of his were incredible. Peter wanted to worship those hands but would settle for having them touch him in whatever way Stephen deemed fit. He could try acting out...

When Stephen pulled his fingers free, he didn't roll Peter onto his front. Confused, Peter watched as Stephen settled back against the pillows and headboard, coating his heavy erection in the lubricant.

"I don't..." Peter trailed off.

"Come here and straddle me," Stephen said. "I want to see your face when I'm inside you."

Oh. Oh.

He felt awkward as he did what he was told, but nothing in the way Stephen looked at him made him think Stephen thought the same.

"Take me in," Stephen instructed.

Face flushing furiously, Peter moved around, raising up enough so he could grasp Stephen's cock and guide it to his hole. Gravity was how Peter managed to get the head of Stephen's cock inside of him, and in that new position, it felt like too much. Seriously, how did it fit in him?

"Keep going."

Stephen's eyes were dark, lids heavy and his lips parted as if in exertion.

"H-how do I-"

"You're a smart young man, you'll figure it out," Stephen said as he splayed the palm of one hand low against Peter's belly. "Keep going."

He leaned back and spread his thighs, promptly gasping when more of Stephen slid in. It was so much, too much but the stretch was so good, had him tingling everywhere. He rocked and adjusted until he'd taken nearly half of Stephen's length. He didn't think he could take more.

"You could just pull me down," he told Stephen, panting harshly.

"I could," Stephen agreed, stroking Peter's hip. "But I won't. Keep going and I'll take the cage off."

It took far longer than Peter wanted, but finally he was fully impaled on Stephen's cock, the hard length filling him with a delicious pressure only enhanced by the press of Stephen's palm against the bulge in Peter's belly.

"There we go," Stephen praised. "Now ride me."

"But you said-"

"And I will," he was promised. "Ride me."

Peter did, rocking and rising up only to sink back down again and again. Every time he took Stephen into him the cock brushed against his prostate and even caged, Peter could feel something building and building. He continued to ride Stephen's cock eagerly, desperately chasing that something, entranced by the way Stephen watched him as though he was beautiful. He flew higher and higher and then something happened. It wasn't an orgasm, because he didn't tip over that glorious peak, but he did leak in his cage, his meagre release dripping onto Stephen's flexing abdomen.

Horribly embarrassed and confused about how it was possible, Peter slowed to a stop. He was further shocked when Stephen swiped a finger in the ejaculate and tasted it. Judging by the way his eyes closed at the touch of fluid to tongue, Stephen enjoyed it!

"Wh-what just happened?" Peter asked. He was still slightly out of breath and wondered what was wrong with him. "I didn't even, I mean, there was no-"

Stephen smirked. "What just happened is something I very much enjoyed watching," he said. "You've no idea how stunning you looked, riding me so desperately that even locked up you simply couldn't help but spill for me." He removed the cage with a brush of his fingers over the biometric lock and then grabbed the bottle of lubricant. "Do you want me to give you a proper orgasm, Peter?"

He looked at Stephen, trying to parse out the mix of emotions he both felt in himself and saw in those blue-green eyes. "Please," he whispered.

Stephen helped him onto his hands and knees and Peter heard him use more the lubricant on his length before pulling Peter firmly back onto him. Peter gasped at the sensation and then again as slick fingers took his erection in hand.

Peter's hands lasted maybe four thrusts before he collapsed against the mattress, helpless against the onslaught of pleasure that Stephen gave as he stroked Peter's cock in time with his own vigorous thrusting. Again, and again Stephen's long, driving thrusts hit that spot in him that had him seeing stars. That barrage of sensation had his cock plump and aching in Stephen's hand and after what could have been minutes or hours, he felt his orgasm crash through him in waves.

He was floaty and limp against the mattress as Stephen pounded into him, seeking out his own release. Peter felt utterly owned as Stephen pulled him up against his front, one arm wrapped around his chest and the other splayed on his lower belly. This was familiar, this felt safe, Stephen's body long and caging against his own, keeping him close as he thrust in and out over and over until he stilled and with a long, low groan, filled Peter with his spend.

They laid useless on the bed for long moments before Stephen could gather himself enough to pull free and make his way to the bathroom to get a warm washrag. Peter felt the most wonderful sort of glow as Stephen gently cleaned them both and helped Peter under the covers. He could pretend this meant something, too.

"I'm glad you're back," he whispered when he felt Stephen relax into the bed.

"So am I."

<<<>>>

#spiderstrange #spideystrange #peter parker x stephen strange #stephen strange x peter parker #1950s modern fusion au #1950s au #READ THE FUCKING TAGS #NO SERIOUSLY READ THEM #couldntdbedamned fic

[aparecium-rp]

ABOUT:

Character name: Peter Pettigrew Age & Birthday: 21 & May 22nd Gender & Pronouns: Cis-male & He/Him Occupation: Unemployed Blood status: Halfblood Previous house: Gryffindor Affiliation: Death Eater & Order of the Phoenix Face claim: Rudy Pankow

BIOGRAPHY:

The existence of Peter Pettigrew has always been entirely defined by the people in his life at any given moment. With the Marauders, he felt invincible. He could do anything and go anywhere to hell with the consequences, so long as Remus, Sirius and James were there to take the brunt of them for him. With his parents, he wasn’t at all capable of looking after himself, not when they were there to smother him and protect him from anything he was remotely uncomfortable with. Within the Order of the Phoenix he can revel in the spotlight that he steals from his friends and with the Death Eaters he thrives off the sense of power they provide him with. Every conversation, every interaction, is calculated. Peter perfectly curates a new version of himself for every situation he finds himself in and he excels in the art of fabrication and evasion. Some may call this manipulation, he calls it survival.

Growing up, Peter’s time was split evenly between both his parents who arguably loved him a little too much. His mother was a witch and his father a muggle, and while they couldn’t seem to make a marriage work, they did everything they could to provide Peter with a loving childhood. His father initially wasn’t too thrilled with being abruptly brought into the Wizarding World and thus began a string of arguments and unkind words that the Pettigrews couldn’t come back from. This, however, provided young Peter with two adults that he could work off each other to get anything he wanted. He may have been overly sheltered and inherited more anxiety and questionable opinions than any young boy should, but the thrill he got from causing yet another fight between his parents was worth it.

At school, life was pretty much perfect for Peter. Was he aware that he didn’t quite fit in with his peers? Yes. Did this stop him from craving their attention and validation? Absolutely not. Peter was proud of how easily he snaked his way into the Marauders and even though he would worry that he wasn’t as good as them, that one day they might realise and kick him aside, he knew he had earned a place at their side. The rest of the world could whisper that he was a tag along, not really one of the rowdy Gryffindor boys, but Peter had firmly rooted himself in their lives and he was determined to hang on as long as they would allow him to. Riding on the coattails of others’ successes is not an easy task, but Peter almost makes it look effortless even though, deep down, he’s a nervous wreck that one day it might all disappear. It is for this reason that he has now found himself dragged into the Order of the Phoenix.

Little do the rest of the Order know, Peter keeps a rather huge secret up his left sleeve. War had never been something he had wanted to be a part of, so when his friends rushed into the Wizarding War head first, Peter tried to remain separate from it, but not long after being pulled on to the “good” side, he found himself being drawn to the “bad”. When it all comes down to it, Peter’s number one priority is himself. He has very little regard for other people if it in some way puts himself in a bad situation. Peter is both a little bit in love with and simultaneously afraid of every single person that crosses his path, so if he feels he can earn something or feels threatened, he will do anything for almost anyone if it benefits him in some way.

As the war raged on, he started to wonder if he was on the right side. What would happen to him if the Order lost? All of the power seems to be in the palm of Voldemort’s hand and he craves that power. Peter is a proficient liar, a time bomb of anxiety, and an avid lover of cheese. Nothing will stop him from surviving this war, and certainly not his morals.

OOC INFO:

Played by: Kayleigh Time Zone: GMT

#peter pettigrew #gryffindor #death eater #m #taken #taken m #taken death eater #taken order #order #played by kayleigh #taken gryffindor

[ao3feed-snape]

In another life I would make you stare (and maybe you would but I never did end up noticing.)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/PxgpsCf

by Tmak

The world was dark. Maybe it was just him. Maybe it wasn't. His thoughts had been bundeled recently, he thinks it stopped. It doesn't seem so. His eyes burn along with the darkness. Maybe he wants to cry... He thinks he was told once, "Crying relieves pain, no pain is no guilt. No guilt would be happiness. So cry child, till your hearts' content." He wonders if he should. He wonders if he wasn't told that and instead made it up as a reassurance. Still, he doesn't. Tears don't fall of his face. Except for one, not long ago, a sob had left his face along with singular tears. But it's fine, it isn't significant.

Aka a random wheel app decided that Sev, Reg, and Luc would get to go to the past and yeah. Amazingly it also decided on the ships lmao. I didn't even know some of these existed. i'm bad at summaries so just read, but it isn't up to your standards I'm very sorry! It's my first fic.

Words: 1209, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Sevregluc friendship slayyy

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Severus Snape, Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Lily Evans Potter, Abraxas Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Avery Jr. | Severus Snape's Schoolmate, Evan Rosier, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape, Regulus Black/James Potter, Remus Lupin/Lucius Malfoy, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Unreliable Narrator, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Severus Snape-centric, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus Black-centric, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Young Severus Snape, Time Travelling Severus Snape, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders, Severus Snape Deserves Better, Severus Snape Lives, Good Severus Snape, Good Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy & Severus Snape Friendship, Regulus Black & Severus Snape Friendship, POV Lucius Malfoy, POV Regulus Black, POV Severus Snape, POV Sirius Black, POV James Potter, POV Remus Lupin, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black Being an Asshole, But He Gets Better, eventually, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban, James Potter Lives, James Potter Being an Asshole, He also gets better eventually, Remus Lupin Being an Asshole, But he is a closeted asshole, Or maybe an idiot, Remus Lupin Being an Idiot, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Lily Evans Potter Bashing, Young Lucius Malfoy, Aged down Lucius Malfoy, I need that for the plot, He was born a year before Sev in this, Albus Dumbledore Bashing

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/PxgpsCf

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Severus Snape

[claraswritings]

I Was Meant To Love You- HEAVY SPOILERS

NOTE: This fic contains SPOILERS. If you have not seen No Way Home and don’t want SPOILERS, this is your FINAL SPOILER WARNING. I have tagged NWH Spoilers, if you haven’t blacklisted that, do not come moaning at me. You go into the tags at your own choice.

Notes: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS LEFT COMMENTS, LIKED, SHARED, I LOVE YOU ALL 🥰

This can be a sequel/epilogue to I Was Meant To Know You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (Andrew Garfield Peter/Peter 3/ TASM Peter)

Warnings: OBVIOUS SPOILERS. Unbeta’d and written on my lunch hour

Tags: @snixx2088 @awesomemikaus @sheridans-dynamos @vx-vexedvixen @ancailinaerach

When you’d opened your eyes next, you were flat on your back, the sunlight flickering through the clouds and causing you to shield your eyes.

“Are you okay, hon,” a middle aged woman with shockingly purple lipstick was leaning over you “Did you slip? Do you need me to call someone?”

You sat up. “I think I’m okay… I just,” your eyes flickered over your surroundings trying to see if it worked. “fainted…”

As you slowly began to piece things together, you could remember the battle, you could remember three Peter Parker’s and you could remember your request to Dr Strange. If you could remember what happened that meant…it had worked right?

But if it had worked where was this universes Peter.

“My…friend… he was…” you paused. You couldn’t exactly say ‘dressed like Spider-Man’ without this woman thinking you were completely insane. You stopped yourself before you could continue. “Going to get us some sandwiches…I was hungry and that’s why I…”

The woman didn’t look convinced but let you go “If you’re sure hon,”

You nodded, a little too quickly. A slight headache was stirring and you made a mental note to get some aspirin as your first thing to do in this new world.

***

You walked the streets of New York for hours, feeling weirdly like a visitor in a city you knew too well. Everything, nearly everything, was familiar but you felt like every person knew you were out of place.

Where the hell was Peter.

You’d headed to the Empire State Building and , craned your head upward for a glimpse of him, whilst the tourists admired the outward view. You considered going to the street his Aunt lived on but didn’t think it would be fair to spring “I’m your nephews friend from the multiverse,” on the woman. You could have told a white lie, told her you were a friend from his photography job or a fellow research assistant at his other job but again, a lie wasn’t how you wanted your new life to start.

As you roamed the streets, you noticed a “Spider-Man: Menace or Threat” sticker plastered to a lamppost and took care to peel it off, despite the looks of passers by.

Jameson was still a conspiracy nut in this universe. Some things will never change.

***

It was late into the evening when you found him not far from Grand Central Station. You’d been about to give up for the night and turn into a hotel room you’d booked, and first thought you’d head to see if there was a the same cafe here as you used to frequent.

“[Name],” His voice called out to you and instantly, your heart lifted and you turned to the source of the noise.

He dropped from a nearby fire escape, a drinks holder in one hand, they sloshed a little as he jogged over to you. He was in his civilian clothes, dark jeans, a checked shirt and a green overcoat, mask no doubt tucked in a pocket and suit likely under his everyday wear.

“Peter!” Your face lit up and you ran to meet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. He returned it, holding you in close with his free arm and feeling like he should savour every thing about you, from your perfume to the way you stood on tiptoes to hug him properly.

“God it’s so good to see you” It had been hours but you felt like it had been too long. How could you hate being away from someone you didn’t know existed until a day ago. “Where were you?”

“When I…came back, I was at home rather than with you and…” he hesitated “I worried you wouldn’t remember me, and didn’t want you think I was a creep” he said into your hair

You let out a loud laugh as you separated and he found himself smiling at the sound.

“That spell was restricted to my universe,” Pausing, you zipped your coat up and tucked your hands into your pocket “Or rather…my old universe, how’d you find me?”

“I’ve been… watching you most of the day, just wanted to make sure you were okay until I could say hi,” Peter stopped when he realised you were biting your lip. He used one arm to swing around on one of the lampposts on the city street.

“Sorry… is that weird?” He stopped moving and looked down at you, brown eyes looking into yours.

You shook your head. “No…it’s actually kinda sweet,”

“I’d have came over sooner but I… didn’t know how the” he gestured.

“Peter it’s fine” you reassured him, reaching out a hand to squeeze his forearm gently. “I get it” The simplest of gestures was like a wave of relief to him and he could barely believe it had worked and that you were actually here in his universe, in his world, standing within touching distance with no immediate threat of being pulled back from him.

He could spend the rest of his life in this moment.

“I was going to…I figured you’d head for that cafe…after you went to Grand Central…I just wanted to wait until there was less people incase yknow” he averted his eyes and scratched his neck. “I…uh, I remember what you said about going here,”

You recalled your conversation with him on the rooftop in your old universe. If you had a place you went to, you’d told him you like Grand Central Station.

He’d asked if it was people watching that brought you there, and with an embarrassed shrug, you’d confided that, sometimes…but a lot of the time, it was for the stars on the ceiling.

“I, Erm, i got you this,” he offered one of the takeaway cups from the holder, it was printed with a logo you didn’t recognise “That cafe you like… it doesn’t exist here but…” he ran his free hand through his hair before waving it generally at your cup. “hopefully the one that does exist is okay”

You took a long sip. “Thank you” It tasted of marshmallows, chocolate and cream and you wondered if it was better than the one before or if it was just the company you were in. “It’s good… it’s really good,” you smiled. “It’s better.”

“You…wanna do something? Or nothing…”

“Either works,” you agreed. “We can go for a walk, that’s something…and nothing” He could tell by your eyes you were teasing.

“I…uh…already had an idea……I mean if you’d like… but, we’d have to swing there,”

You looked a little wary

“Come on, I promise you’ll be safe, I have super strength just hold on,”

***

“How do you not throw up doing that” you clutched the railing once you’d landed atop the bridge. Despite the fact your feet were firmly planted back on solid ground, you still felt a little like you were free falling on the worlds craziest rollercoaster.

“You get used to it,” He unmasked and offered you an hand to help you to sit down beside him.

“Holy shit you weren’t wrong.” You stared out at the expansive city before you from your spot on the bridge “It’s…something else.”

He passed you a pastry out of a rucksack he’d stuck to a wall and took one for himself. You took it and paused, watching him eat his for a few minutes

“Don’t worry, they’ve only been there since this afternoon,”

“No just… thank you, this is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me” you took a bite of the one he’d got you and wondered if he’d known your favourite or if he’d just got you what he thought you’d like.

“Wait for real” Peter swallowed the bite he’d taken.

It was true.

Beck had been romantic but it had all been for show and you questioned how much of it was real. Prior to your fling with Beck, you’d had a few short term “dating stage” relationships that turned into nothing. The two longer relationships you’d had neither of them successful. One with a guy, by the name of Jack Rollins, had been a secret Hydra operative and your other relationship was with a boyfriend who actually already had another girlfriend.

I’ll make up for it,” he offered “you’re really great and…people should…yknow treat you like that,” Peter could feel the heat on the back of his neck.

“Thanks, you’re…pretty great too,” you nudged him before stopping, noticing he had a few flakes of pastry dotted around his lips. “You’ve got…” You used your hands to gesture “on your face”

“What?” Peter looked confused.

“Here let me,” you offered and reached over and using your sleeve, carefully dusted away the remains. “All better,”

Your hand didn’t move from his face, thumb still hovering by his lips. His reached up to cup yours and you could feel the blood rush in your head and wondered if he could sense your heartbeat as much as you could.

Before you had a moment longer, his lips were on yours in a brief but deep, longing kiss. He pulled back before you could really reciprocate as you’d have liked.

“Sorry,” Peter murmured. “I…just…I,” his eyes were half shut almost like he was holding on to the moment.

“Don’t…” you didn’t pull back.

“Shit” Peter sighed, his deep brown eyes opening further to scanning over you for any traces he’d misread the room. “I didn’t…maybe I sh-“

“No…I mean don’t apologise,” you reached your hand up to look into his eyes “do that again,”

With that he kissed you once more. And as soon as your lips touched for a second time, he knew, if youd agreed, he’d never stop kissing you

*** Time Skip***

“Do you ever regret it.” Peter asked from beside you. You were laying on a old blanket in a park, staring up at the sky. Peter was propped up on one elbow looking at you. “Coming here.”

“No,” you shook your head.

And it was true. It had been only one month since you’d arrived but you were happier in that one month than you’d ever remembered being in the other universe.

From dancing on rooftops whilst watching the sunset, to working together in the labs he’d gotten you a job at, to listening to Jameson on his radio and laughing at the stupid things he said, even composing a drinking game that caused you both to giggle so loudly, the landlord came to tell you both off, to meeting his Aunt May and having her meatloaf which was incredible as Peter had told you.

She’d given you a hug as you’d left that evening, telling you it was so nice to see Peter with a friend, although you could tell from her face she knew you were more than that.

You had been since he’d kissed you on the bridge.

Of course you worried about him when he went out to catch criminals but as he’d reassured you, if he could handle giant mutant lizards and men who could control electricity he could handle a few petty thieves.

He was careful, cautious with you, the last thing he wanted was anyone dangerous finding out who you were but you would never sleep until you heard the fire escape window slide open and the cool air enter with him. You’d hear him shuffling around out of his costume and only relax when he’d slide into your shared bed, still lively with energy and slip an arm around you, planting soft kisses on your shoulder and toying with your hair.

“There was nothing for me back there,” you turned to face him. “I wouldn’t change anything. You have made me so happy, Peter,”

Your hand reached for his and linked your fingers together.

“I’ve never thought I could feel like this about anyone ever again” he pulled you closer by your hip and you slotted your arm around him. “I don’t… i don’t know what I’d do without you” he pressed his forehead to your and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’ll never find out, Pete, I’m not going anywhere,” you moved your arm up to play with his thick hair. “Me and you, forever”

Peter watched you, everything about you was all he ever needed and he didn’t want to waste a second longer.

“I love you,” the words were out of his mouth before he could even process that he’d thought them.

“I love you,” And you’d said it back before he could even kick himself or worry if he’d said it too soon. “I was meant to love you,”

***

#spoilers for nwh #nwh spoilers #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter 3 x reader #peter 3 #ag!peterparker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker imagine #Peter 3 imagine #Andrew Garfield Peter x reader #spiderman spoilers #spider man x reader #mcu spoilers #webb peter parker #andrew garfield

[mah-gah-lee]

What a weird family reunion Reggie x  Reader (xLuke)

gif originally posted by @jatpsource​

Word Count: 3515 words

 Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.

 Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs

 A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic

 disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.

 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ 

 _______

Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.

 You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.

 Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.

 And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.

 And then 2020 came.

 …

 You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.

 This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?

 But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.

 “Reggie? “

 You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.

 “Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”

 What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…

 Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.

 The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.

 “for God's sake, where are they?”

 You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.

 Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.

 “omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath

 The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.

 "Wait, you can see us?"

 “as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.

 The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.

 “So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”

 Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.

Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.

 “Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”

  Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.

 “Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”

 It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?

 You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.

 “Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”

 Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his

full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.

  He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.

 “Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”

 Wow, that was quick.

 “hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”

 You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.

 …

 The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.

 Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.

 “hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”

 Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.

 “oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”

 Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.

 "Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"

 "girlfriend?"

 "The girl you sing with" I simply said.

 "Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "

 Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.

 “It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”

 The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.

 “ I’m Luke, by the way”

 "Y / N… Re .."

 "Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."

 "You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."

 Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.

 “hey, is something bothering you?”

 “What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”

 “Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”

 It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.

 “Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”

 Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.

 “what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact

 “sorry, what?”

 “the plush, what did it smell like?”

 “hot waffle, why?”

 “okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”

 You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.

 “can I use your guitar?”

 “hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation

 “I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”

 Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.

 “Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”

 You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.

 “that's exactly it ... this lullaby”

 You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.

 "Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”

 "No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."

 "hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"

  You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began

  “When are you born?”

 “(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.

 “What’s your name?”

 (y/n) (y/m/n) Peters

 It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face.  It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.

 “What’s my favorite food?”

 “Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”

 “And what was my favorite toy?”

 “I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”

 “ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.

 “What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”

 “Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”

 Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.

But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.

 “Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “

 In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.

 "Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice

 Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes.   Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing

 You're so sleepy

Very much sleepy

You want to go to the fairyland

You close your eyes

And jump into your dream.

When you'll wake up

I’ll still be on your team.

 The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.

You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look

 "but wait ... how did you die?"

 "Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.

He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name

You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.

 The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.

 “ Sooo, you made this.”

 “ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice

 It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.

 “Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”

 “oh it was nothing”.

 “I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”

 A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.

 “I would do anything for my best friends.”

 And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.

 “OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”

 You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager

 “I’m seventeen.”

 “Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”

 Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...

#jatp #jatp cast #jatp cast x reader #jatp imagines #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #reggie x reader #reggie peters x reader #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #writing #owen patrick joyner #madison reyes

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Wishing Upon A Shooting Star

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49697806 by jiya2trappy "i wish... i wish for a good life, one where parker luck doesn't exist, one where those i love don't die. one where peter parker is seen as important." "wishing upon a shooting star? c'mon, spidey, you should know only kids do that." "i know but i need some hope." - peter parker, a 14-year-old who's living relatives are all deceased, has been placed in an orphanage with several other children his age. however, this orphanage is ran by an awful sadistic person, who enjoys kids being hurt and blood running down their small and innocent faces. how would peter get the help he needed? and support the other orphanage kids as well? Words: 10919, Chapters: 11/12, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Original Characters Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Orphan Peter Parker, found family trope, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Angst, Child Abuse, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Wattpad, peter goes through a lot so sorry, jokes not sorry ahaha, I wrote this about a year ago, I Wrote This While Listening to Mitski's Music read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/49697806

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

[phantomato]

Five Tom Riddle Crossover Fics to Read

Tom Riddle is a difficult character to ship. For those of us who want to see pairings beyond the Big Two (Tomarry and Tomione), canonical options peter out relatively quickly. Sure, we can invent our own pairings by fleshing out side characters, but sometimes, the itch is best scratched by borrowing from another canon.

And it makes sense for Tom more than nearly anyone else in HP. Tom was born into an era that is the subject of so much literature, so it’s easy to find another person kicking around postwar Europe if that’s your goal. He’s an archetypal character, the villain seeking immortality, and can be matched against other villains with the same aims. Hell, even his quest to recover lost artifacts turns into the basis for two of these works—Tom Riddle has the perfect combination of a recognizable context and character model, plus the ambiguity of his canon timeline, to slot him alongside so many other fictional figures.

I want to pause on some of these themes for a second. Immortality or relationship to age, for one, is something that comes up in three of these pairings: the Darkling and Koschei the Deathless are both immortal characters in their own canons, and Edmund Pevensie is not immortal but has aged and de-aged repeatedly in his travels to and from Narnia. The HP series doesn’t give us nearly this wealth of different perspectives on age and immortality, which is fair—HP makes it clear that immortality is unnatural and undesirable, and Flamel is notably a ‘good person’ because of his willingness to accept his own death—but for a character as obsessed with the idea as Tom, some emotions can only be explored when you match him with another character who has a complicated relationship to aging. Even someone like Indiana Jones, not immortal and not trying to be, has an interesting perspective to bring to a story because he has seen so many other quests for power gone terribly awry.

Of course, the other thing we get from crossover pairings is the ability to match Tom with a villainous character. And whether you’re a fan of conflict at the start of a relationship or not, I think there’s something to be found in putting two villains together: moral arguments, when they exist, are rarely about whether death is necessary but about what kinds of death are best used when; the entire concept of either a redemption arc or a breaking bad arc can be thrown out a window. It’s a space wherein our two villains are allowed to be themselves, and the reveal of the extent of each character’s villainy becomes a strange form of celebration. This is challenging to achieve if one sticks to HP canon alone, whereas crossovers are a fruitful space.

My selection methodology was to read every crossover fic with a clear focus on Tom Riddle or Voldemort on AO3. I found crossover pairings by visiting the meta pages for the Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and Tom Riddle | Voldemort tags—I may have missed some pairings for Tom Riddle, as the character has over 300 child relationship tags and AO3 cuts off at 300 displayed. If you know of any ships I missed and should check out, do tell! I’ll also make a note here that one of these fics is my own—if self-recs bother you, skip Bluebird.

The following five fics are ordered by wordcount. Let me know what you think!

Neurotic Virtuosi, by skazka

Crossover: Hannibal Rising (movie version). The wizarding world exists, and Tom and Hannibal encounter each other in non-magical Eastern Europe.

Summary: Tom and Hannibal ride the same train when Tom is hunting down the diadem. Tom shares an apple and thinks about keeping Hannibal.

Mature, <1k, Graphic Torture Fantasies

Why?: This is one of those pairings that I wouldn’t have thought to do when the characters were both young, but it’s so much better for that choice! The length of this fic means we only get a taste of their interactions, but what a taste it is. Tom’s internal fantasies are horrifying and described in a very erotic way, which fits both characters.

This also serves as an interesting vision of what Tom might have experienced during his world tour to find the diadem, a period we rarely get to see. I particularly like that the author chose to write it as frustrating and mostly fruitless; a Tom who is stymied and unsuccessful is a particular weakness of mine.

Two Sides of the Same Coin, by Anonymous

Crossover: Chronicles of Narnia. Both Hogwarts and Narnia are real, and the characters meet in Britain. The magic isn’t the same, but there’s mutual recognition.

Summary: Tom tries to use sex to seduce secrets out of Edmund. Edmund sees something reminiscent of his younger self, the version of him who could join the White Witch, in Tom Riddle.

Explicit, 2k

Why?: Edmund and Tom are a pairing made in crossover heaven, both boys of a similar age born into war in the same country and whose discoveries of magical worlds help them escape it. Both lust for power and make poor choices; Edmund canonically recovers and finds redemption from his actions, and Tom does not.

This fic wears the hat of something pure smut, starting in the middle of a sex scene and tagged with top/bottom roles, etc., and it is that and does that well. But give it a shot for Edmund’s reflection at the end, his hopeful musings that he can apply the lessons learned from Aslan to help Tom before Tom’s utterly lost. It’s a crossover ship with unbelievable potential for both characters, and this fic makes me want so much more.

Shedding Skin, by electric_typewriter

Crossover: Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente. Both the wizarding world and the magic of Deathless exist.

Summary: Tom meets Koschei before splitting his soul. They keep meeting, and Tom keeps attempting to match Koschei’s immortality.

Not Rated, 2k

Why?: Immortality via relocation or storage of souls is an idea that easily predates Harry Potter as a series, and seeing two different versions of the some core idea interacting with one another is precisely what crossovers exist to enable. Koschei as an immortal being that found his immortality in a way he considers superior is a fascinating concept, because it creates a power imbalance between them that leaves Tom always running to catch up. And Tom, poor Tom, feels like a desperate man, finding sensation only when he’s around Koschei and feeling nothing at any other time.

This reads a bit like you’re dissociating. The author uses descriptive language to keep the reader a little distant from the grounded reality of the events happening, which has the effect of keeping you focused on the metaphysical question of what it means to have part of a soul.

Bluebird, by Phantomato

Crossover: Shadow and Bone. S&B summoning powers instead of HP magic, set in the real world, with characters’ histories preserved.

Summary: Tom is the second sun summoner to exist, born long after the first gave up her powers and lived out her natural life. He tracks down the Darkling, the shadow summoner who never really died.

Explicit, 17k

Why?: Tom is an immortal being for at least part of his life, and his character arc is about pursuit of immortality, but he is fundamentally a young immortal, and is killed before he can graduate to old immortality. Aleksander, the Darkling, is canonically an old immortal, and his character arc is about the burden of living with the knowledge that you will likely always be alone. That loneliness sets the scene for the relationship between Tom and Aleksander, driving Aleksander’s behavior—he fundamentally believes he will always be alone, even an immortal like Tom passes through his life.

There is a high proportion of smut in this, serving in place of the emotional honesty that neither character can muster, and I recommend it for that. But the story also relies on investment in quiet everyday moments shared between the characters. It’s a fic told through behavior because both men are so cautious around one another, where they nevertheless manage to find sympathy for the other.

Riddles of the Dead, by Maeglin_Yedi

Crossover: Indiana Jones. Blends together the wizarding world and the mysticism present in Indiana Jones films.

Summary: Tom Riddle hires an expert archaeologist and gentleman adventurer, Dr. Indiana Jones, to help him pursue an artifact that might grant him immortality. There’s fucking, fighting, magic, snakes, and some difficult choices in store for our leading men.

Explicit, 18k, Angst

Why?: Maeglin Yedi has been a mainstay of the Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort ficspace for nearly two decades, but an old crossover like this can unfortunately slip through the cracks. It shouldn’t! With an original publishing date in early 2005, this predates the concept of horcruxes, the knowledge of Tom’s early years at Wool’s orphanage, and, well, so much of what we would eventually learn about Tom Riddle as a person. It’s a testament to the author that the story manages to capture Tom’s character in such a way that he’s still fully recognizable to a current-day reader, despite working with so much less canon.

This fic is fun. It’s an adventure, featuring hazards and traps and assassination attempts that you would expect from an Indiana Jones film, but the magic and mystery never overwhelms the relationship at the core of this story. It’s set up beautifully, with a mirrored structure between the front and back halves of the fic that foreshadows the inevitable end of the story. Watching older, confident Indy seduce young, hungry Tom is a delight. One (possible) mark of a great Tom-centric fic, imo, is to be able to portray Tom enjoying the exchange of power, giving it to someone as well as taking it from them, and this Tom is able to revel in giving up some perceived power as he practices being vulnerable with Indy. The romance is quite sweet, especially considering that ‘angst’ tag at the top of the fic!

#tom riddle #tomato fic rec

[lesbianlotties]

follow you to the beginning (just to relive the start) - Sam/Deena  - Fake Dating AU

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Simon Kalivoda, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Deena Johnson & Kate Schmidt, Deena Johnson & Simon Kalivoda, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Slow Burn, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Best Friends, High School, Angst, Humor, Fluff, First Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Sam and Deena are next-door neighbors, and they inevitably and enthusiastically become best friends... until childhood gives way to tragedy, grudges, and regret.

By the time they make it to high school, Sam and Deena are still next-door neighbors but also sworn enemies... until high school introduces bigger threats that they will need to face together.

Faking a relationship might be a bad idea. But it might be the only way for Sam and Deena to understand their shared past and their feelings for each other.

Chapter 1:

Sam and Deena became best friends during one perfect summer day when they were seven years old. In Shadyside, however, perfect days weren’t meant to exist. The only reason little Sam Fraser finally had the time and freedom to spend time with her next-door neighbor was because her parents were caught in the first big fight of hundreds more to come. A part of Sam would associate both events as one and the same for a long, long time. The beginning of her friendship with Deena and the downfall of the Fraser family. In contrast, Deena was living some of the best days of her life. Days that she would treasure and idolize, perhaps more than she should have, for many years to come. Her mother was alive, her father was sober, her little brother was safe in their hands. She had all the time in the world to go out into the backyard, lay on the ground, and look for shapes in the clouds. She had been doing that for a while then a shadow suddenly appeared over her.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. Her voice was still trembling slightly from the way she had run out of her house crying. Her eyes were red and she had a runny nose, but she looked genuinely curious to understand what her neighbor was doing.

Deena didn’t reply at first. She couldn’t. She was too shaken by the impact of Sam’s first impression on her. It wasn’t the very first time they met, of course. But their parents were usually hovering above them. So far they had never been alone together. They were very different kids, it was easy to tell with just one look. Not just physically, with Deena’s wild mane of curly brown hair and Sam’s being straight and blond, Deena’s brown eyes being warm and guarded meanwhile Sam’s blue eyes cried out her every emotion. It was also about the way Deena was thrown on the grass, comfortable and taking as much space as possible in her slightly oversized clothes that she picked herself, as long as they were in sale, while her mother fondly chuckled and followed her around the store in spite of which gendered aisle her daughter got lost in. Sam was the complete opposite, in her bright pink clothes that were always too loose or too tight because her mother didn’t care to bring her along when buying her clothes and it was made all the more noticeable by the way in which Sam stood tense and awkwardly, uncomfortable from head to toe, her feet restless as if ready to run at any given moment.

The silence between them had stretched out for too long, but Sam was good at waiting. Deena moved to a seated position and took a better look at the girl in front of her. “Fraser,” she blurted out. She couldn’t remember her neighbor’s name, but she knew her parents were Mr. and Mrs. Fraser of the constant frowns.

“Um, Johnson?” Sam tilted her head. She didn’t understand this game of calling out each other’s last names.

“I’m Deena,” the brunette said and jumped to her feet, not bothering to brush away the grass stuck to her clothes.

“Sam,” the other girl offered her hand.

Deena laughed, but she was troubled. She wanted to laugh so much more. There was this weird girl in front of her, obviously a second away from bursting into tears again, probably from the weight of the glittery pink ribbon on her head, and she was offering Deena her hand in greeting. However, her laughter died in Deena’s throat. The instinct to tease was, for once, overpowered by something new and somewhat unfamiliar. She didn’t know it was protectiveness, she didn’t understand what it was at all. She only felt a pull on her heart that wanted to make sure her neighbor was okay.

So, Deena shook Sam’s hand. She invited her to lay down with her to watch shapes in the clouds. She didn’t laugh at Sam, she made it her mission to make Sam laugh. Unknowingly, with that innocent handshake, they were starting out together the greatest adventure of their lives, with all the glorious ups and devastating downs that it would include.

It was still early, they had the entire day ahead of them, and under the clear blue Shadyside sky, the world was all theirs. 

They started lying down on the grass, side by side, looking up at the clouds. At first, it was perfect, and fun. Sam’s stomach started aching from how hard she was laughing every time Deena pointed out at the sky and said “That one looks like a butt.” And then Sam would point at a completely unidentifiable cloud and say, “That one looks like a robot.”

“What?!” Deena laughed wholeheartedly. “No, it doesn’t! You weirdo.”

Sam’s laughter dimmed. “Do you think I’m weird?”

“No!” Deena scoffed. “Isn’t that like a compliment?”

The blonde hummed in response. She hadn’t considered that the other girl was just as inexperienced at talking to other girls her age.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Enough silence for Sam to remember the deafening noise of her parents fighting, blaming each other, blaming her, blaming the town. Before she could stop it, Sam was crying again.

“Sam?” Deena called her name. She moved to a seated position and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder gently. “I’m sorry. I really don’t think you’re that weird.”

“That weird?” Sam chuckled through her tears.

Deena laughed along with her, but she still looked out of her comfort zone dealing with her crying neighbor. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” Sam wiped her tears away, willing herself to regain her composure as her mother always told her to do. “I just… cry a lot. My dad says it’s because my mom doesn’t have feelings and I have to cry for the both of us.”

“Okay,” Deena nodded, not knowing how to put into words how wrong that sounded. Then she noticed a single blade of grass stuck to Sam’s pretty blonde hair. “Hold on Sam, you have grass on your head,” Deena said, and reached out to take it off.

However, Deena’s hand on her hair made an idea light up in Sam’s mind. She gasped and grabbed Deena’s wrist, holding her in place. “We should make flower crowns!”

“What?!”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do it,” Sam smiled teasingly.

“Of course I do!” Deena scoffed. She was happy to see Sam smile, but she was second-guessing her previous statement about the blonde not being weird. Plus, it turned out not even Sam knew how to make flower crowns. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. 

The two girls ended up hiding behind flower bushes between their homes. Sam had entertained herself weaving the prettiest flowers she could find in Deena’s curls. Meanwhile, Deena was content pulling blades of grass and unceremoniously letting them fall on Sam’s head. Deena couldn’t understand how Sam could be unbothered by the game. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Sam didn’t have many friends. In fact, not too long later, Sam whispered, “You’re my first real friend.”

Deena beamed upon hearing the words. She was happy with her parents and baby brother but, secretly, she had always wished for a friend, a girl like her, and here she was, finally. “You’re my only friend too,” Deena replied, a little shyly.

“Really?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Deena chuckled.

The blonde hummed thoughtfully. “I think that makes us best friends,” Sam said.

“Oh yeah?” Deena asked. She received a confident nod in response. That made sense to her too. “Then we should celebrate.” She jumped to her feet and offered her hand to Sam, who didn’t hesitate to follow.

The day was long, and there was so much they were dying to show each other. The hours passed by in a sun-bathed blur of childish laughter. They did everything and nothing, jumping without reason, running without destination, rolling in the grass, picking flowers, climbing trees, scratching their knees, and jumping back up into made-up games and fantasy scenarios that they hadn’t ever had a chance to share with anybody.

There were a thousand little moments that years later they would wish they could have immortalized some way. When Deena showed Sam a spider and Sam ran away. When Deena hurt her finger with a thorn from Sam’s mother’s rose bushes, and Sam kissed the afflicted finger and promised she wouldn’t tell anybody Deena cried.

When Deena started climbing the tree at the back of the backyard, Sam started freaking out. “Deena! You’ll hurt yourself!” Sam repeated many times. Deena was thinking Sam sounded older than she really was when she was worried.

“I won’t,” the blonde scoffed, getting comfortable in what actually was a really low branch of the tree. “Besides, if I fall you can catch me!”

“I can try!” Sam said, throwing her arms around her. “But you’ll probably crush me and then we’ll both be dead!”

“Hey! I’m not that heavy!”

Deena’s protest, unfortunately, made her lose her balance. For a moment, she was hanging from the branch of the tree, feeling her heart on her throat. But then Sam’s slender arms were holding on to her legs, as tightly as the little girl was capable of. Deena smiled brightly. She felt surprisingly safe, even if she knew that Sam wasn’t strong enough to literally hold her up. “Sam, let go, it’s okay, I got it,” Deena let her know.

Sam stepped back to let Deena land on her feet, but a second later she was back, wrapping her arms around Deena’s torso this time, holding just as tightly if not more. “You scared me,” Sam mumbled, her voice muffled by the way she had her face pressed against Deena’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Deena said. She let her arms fall limply at her sides. She still felt out of her depth with Sam, even after one of the best days of her life. Her instinct told her to make fun of Sam, who was moved near to tears. But her heart stopped her for unknown reasons. Instead, she let her cheek rest on top of Sam’s head. At the time, Deena was taller. “It’s okay,” Deena repeated. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m your best friend, remember? I don’t think I’m allowed to leave you now.”

Sam chuckled and finally dropped her arms. Deena felt a chill at the loss. “Do you promise?” Sam asked.

Deena frowned a little, but continued to smile. “I promise,” she said, finding it increasingly difficult to say not the blonde girl that had stumbled into her personal space earlier that day with tears still in her eyes.

“Okay,” Sam exclaimed. She leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Deena’s cheek. She was so excited it nearly threw both of them off balance, and when she pulled back, they were both blushing. But they moved on quickly, that day. Sam took Deena’s hand and started leading her to a different spot in the wide and free space behind their houses. “My mom told me about a spa. It’s a place where they put mud in your face to make you pretty. We should try it.”

“I’m already pretty!” Deena protested.

“Yeah, you are,” Sam shrugged. “But maybe it can help me.”

“You are more than pretty, Sam,” Deena frowned.

That made the blonde girl stop in her tracks. “Do you think so?” She asked Deena, and the brunette nodded enthusiastically. Sam was thoughtful for a moment, but eventually shrugged, and tried to continue with her plans, clearly not completely believing the other girl’s words. She was stopped by Deena a moment later, refusing to go further.

“Hey, you didn’t make the promise too,” Deena pointed out.

“Oh! You’re right,” Sam nodded, very seriously. “Okay then… I promise to always be your best friend, and to never leave you, and… um, is there something else?” She looked up at Deena for guidance.

Deena grinned at her. “No, that’s it. That’s cool.”

The two girls started laughing again, and continued with their games for a long time. They did end up playing with the mud, and then tried to wash it off, creating a bigger mess, with the hose they found behind Deena’s house. 

Toward the end of the day, when the sun started to set, both girls were well aware that their parents would be coming out at any moment to call them back home. They chose to end their first day as best friends exactly how they started it. They lay on the grass in the backyard in between their houses, and they looked up at the infinite sky above them. There weren’t many clouds anymore, but the first stars were showing up in the sky, and they were more than happy to count them one by one. 

That was how it started. One perfect day, and dozens of them just the same. Sam ran away from her house to the backyard every time her parents were having a fight. Deena made her laugh until Sam couldn’t remember crying for anything other reason than pure joy. Sam picked the prettiest flowers she could find and gave them to Deena, and hugged her especially tight every time Deena fell down from the tree she loved to climb. From the Johnsons’ window, Deena’s mom watched them fondly, happy that her daughter had a friend. From the Frasers’ window, Sam’s mom watched them with a frown on her face, upset about Sam ruining her clothes. But they never had reasons to stop them from having fun, they didn’t have any reason to put barriers between their daughters. And the two girls couldn’t imagine a world where they would be anything but the best of friends.

Much like everything in Shadyside, their perfect days would soon come to a bitter end but, even then, it wouldn’t be the end of Sam and Deena’s story.

#hello! please support and share and read and comment and i'll love u forever! <333 #it's my attempt at childhood friends to enemies to lovers via fake dating #fear street #sameena #sam x deena #deena x sam #sam fraser #deena johnson #fear street fanfic #fs #my fic

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 10

Summary:  In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags:  18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

<<<>>>

Chapter 10

<<<>>>

He. Didn’t. React.

Stephen had eaten dinner, not once rising to the bait of something so basic as a cold sandwich and canned soup. He’d been perfectly pleasant and Peter, annoyed, wanted to slap that serene look off of his ridiculously handsome face. Where was the fury, the disdain?

No, he was perfectly pleasant, and even helped Peter tidy up the kitchen, though he looked a little taken aback at the number of dishes.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said, once Peter had put away the last utensil. “There’s a radio show that runs on Friday evenings, if you’d like to listen.”

Peter was torn. He didn’t want to spend an evening with Stephen, but he did enjoy radio shows. He knew that the more he acted out, the higher a chance Stephen would take exception and spank him. Which part of him kind of wanted because it meant he could be angry and indignant even longer.

“Sure,” he said. What did he actually have to gain by saying no besides a sore ass and another night spent wishing he could have gotten off? And why not have a restful Friday evening, which he really should be doing, anyways?

He didn’t know what Stephen was up to when he pulled out Scrabble and tuned the PymCo. console’s radio to the station the show would play on, but he decided he might as well go with it.

“Right,” Peter said as they drew their seven tiles and then one last time to determine who played first. “English only?”

Stephen’s brows shot up. “Español? Français? Deutsch?”

Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

“Alright then,” Stephen allowed. He motioned to his mobile. “Foreign languages are allowed, provided we can look them up.”

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you,” Peter said close to an hour later, as he and Stephen were tied and the show was on an ad break. (Rex Gladstone, Ace Detective is sponsored by Kang Time Industries. When you want quality time pieces, you turn to Kang. Kang, for all time, always.)

“I wasn’t under the impression it did,” Stephen confirmed. He made a neat play off of Peter’s “phalange” to spell out “pferd”. “Horse in German,” he added for Peter’s benefit. Peter knew that but made Stephen pull it up so he could verify it anyways.

“Good.” Peter eyed the “a” and “m” he had yet to play and saw his chance. Yes, it was only a three-letter word, but it suited his mood just fine. “Dam.”

“If there’s ever a chance,” Stephen said conversationally, “seeing the Boulder Dam is worth the trip.”

“That’s another kind of dam,” Peter agreed.

“Oh, and what’s yours?”

“Blood,” he answered. “In Hebrew.”

He was astonished when Stephen laughed. He hadn’t heard the sound before. It was low and rich and utterly pleasant. Something Peter melted at hearing it, like tension in his shoulder dissipating.

Things between them weren’t exactly okay. But maybe there’d be a way forward.

Stephen won the game - barely - after he managed to play “quixotic”, bringing his total to 217 against Peter’s 205. Peter was reluctantly impressed. He hadn’t lost a game of Scrabble since Uncle Ben - undisputed Parker family champion - passed away. His aunt May hadn’t had the knack for it, and usually found herself playing moderator. His friends at school or at temple were decent, but not as good as him.

Stephen was a worthy opponent. And the game had been the most fun he’d had playing in a long time.

The radio show had been entertaining as well. They’d listened as Rex Gladstone (Ace Detective) was fired from the force, buried alive, rescued himself, saved the mayor’s wife from poisoning, found his long-lost sister (the mayor’s wife!), was reinstated, brought down the city’s crime lord, fired again, and by the time the show was done for the week, was supposedly in his car that had blown up.

For the first time since they’d gotten married, Peter wasn’t nervous about going to bed. He helped Stephen pick the tiles up to put back in the bag and then put the game away while Stephen turned the radio off. Stephen ensured the house was secure for the night and they went upstairs.

Part of him hated himself for giving in, for being so easily swayed by a pleasant evening with a good-natured Stephen. This was the same man who’d accused him of infidelity and hadn’t given Peter the chance to defend himself. Sure, he’d apologized once he’d learned he was wrong, but what was to stop him from similar accusations in the future every time he saw something out of place?

But on the other hand, he again asked himself: what did he have to gain by being resistant? Keeping his pride intact? That had gone down the drain the moment he’d signed his life over to the BCSS.

And really, just what was he expecting from Stephen? For the man to get on his knees spouting pretty words Peter knew he wouldn’t believe? To feel so overwhelmed by guilt that he’d remove the cage permanently? Even on that last one, Peter was torn.

“Are you planning on undressing, or shall I do it for you?” Stephen’s question turned his attention away from his thoughts.

“Oh. You still want me?” Peter asked.

Stephen’s lips quirked and his gaze was hot. “From the moment I saw you.”

Peter’s hands shook as he pulled off his shirt and tried several times to undue the buckle of his belt. Stephen took that task over, his hands trained to be steady. He went back to his own clothes as Peter slid the belt from its loops and pushed his pants and briefs down. By the time he’d put his clothes - socks included - in the hamper, Stephen had his own in a neat pile, ready to be added. Then Stephen drew him in and did something he hadn’t done before.

He kissed him.

Much, much later, after Stephen had taken Peter apart over and over before finally indulging himself and spilling inside the gorgeous little body of his young husband, he lay next to him, under the covers, lights off. Peter hadn’t drifted off to sleep immediately after, for once.

And Stephen figured he had nothing to lose by being honest. The dark kept him from feeling completely vulnerable, at least.

“My mother was a kind woman,” he said quietly. “Probably too kind. She cared for my father, gave him three children.”

Peter said nothing.

“My father, however, was anything but kind. He was cold and calculating and always searching for more in life. More money, more power, more importance. He never cared who he hurt along the way. He didn’t grieve when either my brother or sister died. He certainly didn’t care about my mother’s feelings, not a bit. He only paid any attention to me when I achieved some award in school or a colleague had something nice to say about me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter whispered the question.

“He didn’t hide his affairs, never made any attempt to be discrete. He’d come home with lipstick on his collar or smelling of some woman’s cheap perfume. And every time he did, I watched a little part of my mother die inside. Sometimes I hated her for it, for sticking around, for not standing up to him.” He took a breath. “I promised myself I’d never be like her in that regard, that I’d never do something to hurt whoever I married so much... or stand for it myself.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, again. “You don’t have to believe me, or forgive me, but I am sorry for how I reacted. It was unfair to you, and I’ll do my best to be more reasonable when I find something amiss.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispered.

Stephen fell asleep, feeling lighter.

So did Peter.

When Stephen came down for breakfast, he got his own cup of coffee and asked if there was anything he could do to help.

“No,” Peter said. “I’ve got it. It should be done in a few minutes.”

“It’s not canned soup again, is it?” Stephen asked.

Peter looked back sharply. He knew that Stephen had known!

“It was a funny little way of showing me how pissed you were,” Stephen acknowledged with a smirk.

“You didn’t react,” Peter said, feeling childishly annoyed.

“Because it’s what you were hoping for,” Stephen said simply, still smirking. “You wanted to goad me so I’d get angry and then you could feel righteously angry and push me into punishing you and you could continue feeling pissy.” He gave Peter an unimpressed look. “We both have better things to do with our time.”

Reluctantly, Peter nodded and turned his attention back to the oven. But then he couldn't help himself. "You really weren't angry?" he asked, turning around. "Not even a little?"

"I was more annoyed than anything," Stephen admitted. "But canned soup is something of a step up from the ramen and chickpea diet I lived on in medical school."

"Noted," Peter said, finally. He pulled his creation out of the oven when the timer signaled. The spinach and mushroom strata was going to be delicious, he just knew it. He was glad he’d taken the time to prep it instead of making a fancy dinner the previous night.

He watched Stephen’s reaction to the food with some satisfaction. “You made this this morning?” he asked, surprised.

“I started it last night,” Peter said. “Surely you didn’t think all the clanging around was just for soup and sandwiches?” he asked.

Stephen shrugged. “Well, you tend to use more dishes when cooking than anyone else I know, so it never occurred to me to question it. This is very good, though. What is it?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s a strata with mushrooms and spinach. It’s actually my Aunt May’s recipe.”

Stephen had another serving and even refilled Peter’s coffee. “Thank you.”

There wasn’t much to do in terms of housework outside of laundry. Peter was grateful for that because his legs were sore from his run the previous day. He thought he’d done a good job hiding that fact, but Stephen happened to catch him walking with a slight limp as he came downstairs from putting away the latest load of clothes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with a frown.

“I’m just sore from running yesterday,” Peter explained. “I hadn’t run in a while, and I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. I’ll be fine in a day or so.”

“You should drink some water,” Stephen said. “Did you stretch, afterwards?”

Peter nodded. “Yes, I’ve been drinking water and I stretched as part of my cool down. I’ll be okay, once I’m into a consistent schedule with it.”

Stephen looked like he wanted to protest but said nothing. “If you get hurt you need to tell me-”

“Immediately, I know,” Peter agreed. “I will, sure. But I’m fine, just need to get through the muscle soreness and then I’ll be the bees’ knees again.”

“Do you prefer running outside?”

Peter was confused. “As opposed to what?”

“A treadmill,” Stephen said. “The hospital uses them for rehabilitation and physical therapy, but they’re becoming more popular in gyms as well. Starks’ just launched their line this past year.”

“I’m fine with running outside,” Peter said. He was a little astonished that Stephen thought he might be worth the investment - what if he or Peter decided to annul once the year was up?

“And when it gets colder than Peggy Carter’s left tit outside?” Stephen asked.

If Peter had taken a drink, he would have spat it out. “Stephen!”

Stephen didn’t look bothered. “Meet her yourself, she’s awful. I mean, they all are but she’s probably the worst.”

Peter had heard Stephen call the hospital's board of directors insufferable more than once, but he wondered that that woman in particular had done to earn his ire.

“Did you two… used to date or something?”

The look on Stephen’s face was somewhere between disgust and horror. Peter nearly laughed. “Okay, definitely not,” Peter said quickly. “You clearly have better taste.” He motioned to himself with got the desired laugh out of Stephen, short as it was.

“Take some ibuprofen and do some resting today,” Stephen said. “I think if you clean any more the wallpaper will start rubbing off.”

Peter did as Stephen said and popped a couple of the anti-inflammatories. He found the book he’d been reading the one night with Stephen after dinner and settled into the other armchair in the den. After a moment, he got up and fiddled with the radio, finding the sister station of the one he’d listened to with his aunt back in Midtown. Soft big band music played, interspersed with more modern hits.

Stephen - wearing his reading glasses again - nodded approvingly and they spent their day reading. The only interruptions were Peter tending to the wash after it signaled and making them both lunch. When Peter was about to go and start dinner, Stephen stopped him. “We’re going out for dinner.”

Bewildered, Peter could only nod. “Am I dressed okay?”

Stephen eyed him. “More than. It’s not a fancy restaurant, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Peter did. It was a pizza place that specialized in individual pizzas. He ordered most of the vegetables and, to Stephen’s disgust, anchovies. Stephen, as he could have predicted, went heavy on the meats and cheese, with a few green peppers tossed on for appearances sake.

It was lively on a Saturday evening, and they had several people stop by their table to say hello. Peter felt like his face would break from all the smiling he was doing, and he could tell Stephen was starting to get annoyed as well.

“Do they deliver?” Peter asked lowly after yet another older couple offered their congratulations on the marriage and finally returned to their own table.

“If they don’t, I’m sure they will if I pay them enough,” Stephen answered. “It’s a sound plan.”

Peter felt yet another ball of tension in him relax - Stephen wasn’t one for heavy socializing, either. He knew it’d be his job to keep things smooth when it came time to host dinners and other get-togethers but knowing Stephen might make his job that much easier was great.

Sunday went by like a dream and Peter was sure being woken up for sex that morning helped. Apparently, Stephen hadn’t gotten enough the night before, which was just fine. Peter was never going to complain about orgasms, even if he was starting to feel odd when the cage wasn’t on.

Monday was much the same and given that Stephen kept him in bed well past seven, he couldn’t complain about breakfast being late.

He dusted throughout the house, including the den, and changed the sheets on their bed. Feeling generous, he even made lunch for them both before telling Stephen of his plans to go grocery shopping.

“I can take you,” Stephen offered.

Peter shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s boring work, honestly. Besides, you’re technically still on vacation.”

He called the car service and let them know his planned stops. Making a last look around the kitchen to ensure his list was adequate, Peter grabbed his grocery bags and went outside to wait on the car.

Annoyed as he’d been to be all but forced to take a week of vacation, Stephen had mixed feelings on the time coming to an end. He’d made a tentative peace with Peter, even after he’d been an unreasonable ass to the young man. Peter was a brat, sure, but also thoughtful and with a smart sense of humor Stephen could appreciate.

When Tuesday morning came and Stephen went back to work (in a perfectly starched and ironed shirt as well as slacks), bidding Peter to have a pleasant day, he determinedly ignored the small pang he felt leaving.

He had lives to save, after all.

And the most irritating group of people in the world to do his best and ignore.

(He hoped that his absence wasn’t too much of a cause for relief for Peter.)

<<<>>>

#spiderstrange #spideystrange #peter parker x stephen strange #stephen strange x peter parker #1950s modern fusion au #1950s au #read the fucking warnings #and tags #no seriously read them #couldntbedamned fic

[skandarismyturkishdelight]

I Despise You (Part 8) - Edmund x Reader

Warnings: none

Characters: Edmund, Lucy, Peter and Susan Pevensie and (Y/N)

Setting: The Golden Age, Narnia

Blurb (???i think???): (requested by @alwaysinnarnia)The reader is a Swordswoman/Knight of Doorn and visits Narnia, soon getting off on the wrong hand with King Edmund. She stays in Narnia and they train together, and they become friends and maybe something more…

Tag List: @aisforaltamoda @sanya-gryff @wantingtobekorra @sweetpeasturtleneck @suruhcha @foreverfangirling123 @fosterthe-peter @expellimarvelous @fandoms-allovertheplace @irreplaceable-ecstasy @fiftyshadesofnarnia @heyohheyitsgabi @nimaiwe @thellamaisinthehouse @hopebaker @a-studying-narnian-demigod @margot-black @fangirled-101 @aisforaltamoda @ajediherowitchrunner @spinning-oysters @hopebaker @just-my-weirdness-and-i @fandom-writer642 @xcyber-queenx @disfunctionalcrab @changing-constantly @answer-the-sirens @wildflowersrm @lizziel1410 @hocus-pocus-i-dont-focus @torisecrets @mya-bleu @hunnybunimdun @andycanbeemotional @lady-miidnight @writingweirdness413 @just-my-weirdness-and-i

(sorry if I missed anyone!! Also, there are some accounts I’ve attempted to tag but it doesn’t seem to fully work - please let me know if it did! Also please comment on this post if you would like to be added to the tag list! ❤️)

*

“...and have the supplies out by the end of the month,” Peter said, dragging a finger across the map before (Y/N) to gesture to Tashbaan’s port. “it’ll take around four months for the iron and oil supplies to arrive.“

Yaro nodded, his hands braced on the edges of the wide table. “With the King and Queen now increasing the mining and production work in the country, Doorn will surely have their products delivered to Tashbaan a little while after Cair Paravel’s shipment would have arrived.”

The High King and Yaro looked up to (Y/N) who had a stern look on her face as she crossed her arms.

She nodded. “There’ll still be a spare month before their deadline. It may work in our favor if something goes wrong-”

“It won’t,” Peter stated confidently. “Everything will go according to plan.”

(Y/N) sighed, letting her arms fall to her side. It was a relief that she didn’t have to go back home yet, especially with the Knight’s meeting just around the corner. (Y/N) couldn’t shake off the crawling feeling of anxiety, though. The terrible thought that her family and people could be in danger terrorised her. So much so that insomnia would consume her days and follow her into the night, never allowing her a moment’s rest.

It was easier with Edmund. (Y/N) had often visited him when the moon was still shining overhead in the star-scattered sky and the woodland creatures whispered into the wind. He would give her comfort when she crawled into his bed, kissing her forehead and the spot behind her ear she had always found ticklish. He would tell her stories about his first time wondering through the wood in the summer, and how he felt when he had stepped into the castle for the first time.

Those stories made her feel warm, and there were nights when he came into her room, too. His shirt would be dampened by sweat, his voice just shy of a tremble as he lay his head onto her stomach and asked for a tale of her own. He would often fall asleep with his arm draped around her, and his soft snores lulled her into her own slumber.

Now with the meeting finished and the organisation for the iron and oil shipments were finalised, (Y/N) felt a slight weight lift from her chest. Yaro took a long look at her and sent a reassuring look when she met his eyes.

“Your Highness?” he said carefully.

(Y/N) almost smiled. Hardly anyone had called her by her formal title, and she genuinely would’ve preferred anything else than that. But now, hearing that title, it reminded her of her older brother and how he used it to mock her incessantly. It comforted her.

“I’m fine,” she said, a small smile on her face. “Thank you, Yaro.”

He nodded curtly and gave her a bow, his arms resting by his sides. (Y/N) turned to Peter who offered her a sympathetic smile and a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Your family will be okay,” he said confidently. “We will never turn away from our allies, or our friends.”

Smiling despite the tears shimmering in her eyes, (Y/N) let herself be swept up into Peter’s brief embrace. He let her go, offering a reassuring nod before she began to walk towards the exit of the war room.

Her hands automatically began to smooth out her tunic and readjust the belt hanging from her hips. She brushed her fingers over the silver dagger safely positioned at her side. Susan had gifted it to her last week for assisting with the organsation of the ball, and (Y/N) felt her chest lighten when running a hand over the hilt which was decorated with sapphire gems.

(Y/N) unsheathed it from her side as she walked down the main hallway towards her quarters. She moved the dagger skilfully between her fingers and flipped it over her hand to rest in her palm again. The cool metal tempered the anxiousness creeping in her chest and left her to focus on the movement of spinning silver.

As quickly as she had flipped the dagger into her other hand, a force hit her from the side and drove her towards the wall. She let out a grunt as the hands she knew so well had skilfully twisted the knife from her hand and held her wrist to the wall; leaving her body trapped between his.

A smile graced her lips as Edmund let out a low laugh. “Your lack of peripheral vision is concerning.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, leaning her head back against the velvety curtains that covered the sunlight. She let her free hand move to his shoulder, and up into his hair as he leaned forward to kiss her chastely. The kiss could only be returned enthusiastically, and soon, Edmund let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist.

The weakness in his movements caused her to smirk into their kiss, not giving a second thought before gripping the collar of his clothing and spinning him around to press him to the wall.

Edmund shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes as he let himself smile at her antics.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?” (Y/N) said, teasingly raising an eyebrow.

The dark haired king leaned forward, his breath tickling her lips. “On the contrary - this feels perfect.”

(Y/N) huffed out a laugh before taking his lips with hers again, softly and with determined slowness. Edmund wound a hand into her hair and melted into their embrace, and (Y/N) felt how rapidly his heart beat against hers.

She pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath, and Edmund‘s lips followed her to give her a light peck.

He took both her hands in his. “How was the meeting?”

(Y/N) smiled briefly, and she was sure that Edmund saw right through it and into her troubled mind.

“The shipments will arrive soon,” she said, intertwining her fingers with his. “I’m praying that it will go smoothly. My family cannot afford a war.”

Edmund’s eyes wandered across her face, pulling one of his hands from hers to caress her cheek.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, furrowing his dark eyebrows. “Everything will be fine. If there is anyone you can trust with a task like this, it’s Peter.”

(Y/N) could only nod and lean into his warm hand, moving her face to peck his palm before giving him a tight hug. His strong arms wrapped around her and tucked her as close to his chest as possible. She breathed in his familiar woodsy scent, and she let herself smile at the faint smell of chocolate that always found its way to him.

As they heard scuffling from down the hallway, they pulled apart only to see Lucy come into view with her chin high, and her pale yellow dress swaying and sweeping across the marble floors.

“(Y/N)!” she exclaimed, rushing towards them with her eyes crinkled into a smile. “How did it go? I heard that the supplies are being shipped out soon.”

(Y/N) brushed a hair behind her ear and nodded. “You heard correctly.”

Lucy squealed and tackled (Y/N) with a hug, and Edmund chuckled at the surprise on (Y/N)’s face.

“Oh! We need to celebrate! Should I request for the kitchen to make your favourite dinner?”

“Oh, that’s alright,” (Y/N) said. “I appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.”

Lucy squeezed the young woman’s arms in response and whisked back down the hall excitedly as she called out, “I didn’t hear a no!”

Edmund pushed himself from the wall and took (Y/N)’s hand. “Come on, let’s go somewhere.”

“Oh?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Where to, my king?”

“Horse riding,” he chuckled, turning to pinch (Y/N)’s waist. “Where else would we go?”

The swordswoman rolled her eyes and smacked his hand away.

Edmund shook his head, his hair moving away from his eyes as he continued to lead the way. They walked along the east wing and descended down the marble staircase, (Y/N)’s hand running along the smooth handrail.

She found herself being pulled to an abrupt stop by Edmund, who took one more step as he focused on a middle aged man standing at the end of the stairs. He wasn’t burly, but he looked strong. His broad shoulders and chest were clad with armour, and a shiny helmet was tucked under his right arm. Dark green eyes flicked up to (Y/N), who also took another step down to stand in line with Edmund.

Edmund spoke first after a tense silence. “Lord Rami.”

The man took a step forward, his eyes still searching (Y/N) and Edmund’s faces. Something in his gaze told (Y/N) that the man didn’t seem too keen on having kind conversation. He didn’t seem to want to address Edmund’s existence.

“Forgive me, Lord Rami,” she spoke out, calmly. “But King Edmund is addressing you. It is only common courtesy for you to respond.”

His cold eyes lay on her, and she felt her skin prickle as he scanned her from head to toe.

“King Edmund,” he said quietly before bowing briefly. “It is an honour to be in your presence.”

Lord Rami turned to (Y/N) again. “And you, milady?”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” she stated. “Knight and Princess of Doorn.”

Trying to keep her face as stoic as possible, (Y/N) tilted her head up as Lord Rami bowed once more.

“Forgive me,” he responded to her. “I must make my way to my quarters.”

The man slowly began to ascend up the staircase, and with one final look at the pair of them, he continued on his way and disappeared as he turned a corner.

(Y/N) tightened her fist and let it go in an attempt to settle her nerves, and she turned to Edmund who seemed to be doing the same, but with a flick of fury in his dark eyes. He clenched his jaw and looked back up to where the man had been, almost as though he was expecting him to reappear.

“Ed,” (Y/N) said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ed, are you alright?”

He stayed quiet and took a long look at her before continuing to walk down the stairs.

“Who was he?” she asked, feeling quite ridiculous because of her cluelessness.

“No one,” he said quietly.

(Y/N) continued to follow him as he turned left at the staircase and down another hallway, opposite the exit towards the stables.

“Let’s still go on that horse ride,” she said earnestly, moving closer to him. “It’ll get your mind off of whatever you’re thinking.”

Edmund stopped abruptly and worked his hands through his hair. “I don’t need a horse ride.”

“Then what do you need?” She didn’t want to pry it out of him, but she needed to know. “Edmund, what did he-”

“I just need some peace and quiet,” he interrupted, hands falling to his sides. “Can you give me that?”

(Y/N)’s immediate reaction was to scoff. “You’ve never given that to me, so why should I do the same?”

Edmund turned to her, his dark eyes gleaming. “You can never give anyone a moment’s rest, can you?”

“Ed, I just want to know-”

“But I don’t want you to know!” He said, his voice raising. “Stop asking, stop pushing, just stop! Some things are better left unsaid, but that isn’t enough for you! You have this habit of pecking your nose into things that clearly don’t concern you.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank, and her words of comfort died on her tongue. His tone of geniune impatience and fury was one she hadn’t heard in a while. She pressed her lips together, angry at the painful words he spewed, but she grew even angrier when she felt tears prickle at her eyes.

“You’re so ungrateful, you know that?” She retaliated. “And frankly, you’re quite stupid for not thinking that I’m asking you all this because I want to help you. Not everyone here is trying to attack you, Edmund!”

Edmund stepped closer to her, his eyes dark and challenging. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“You’re right, I don’t - so help me understand. Or I’m not going to waste my time chasing you around trying to figure you out. You have a family that loves you but you never focus on that! At any sign of conflict, you lash out; just like you’re doing now! Like a child!”

He moved past her and continued down the hall, not looking back as he made his way to his quarters. (Y/N) took a deep breath a wiped away any evidence of the tears that formed in her eyes. She spun around and headed towards the exit of the castle, suddenly missing the feeling of Edmund and his warmth beside her.

*

A couple of hours had gone by since (Y/N)’s return from her ride, and nothing about her mood had changed in the slightest. She fidgeted with the book in her hands, the words not processing in her mind due to all the anger that clouded it.

“It’s Edmund, isn’t it?” Susan asked, looking at (Y/N) from across the room with a book of her own on her lap.

Susan had spotted (Y/N) riding in the woods and it didn’t take her much to figure out she was basically losing her mind. (Y/N) wanted to be alone at first, but she realised how much Susan had helped in trying to get her mind off of Edmund’s angry outburst. The high queen hadn’t asked questions, or pressed for answers; she just rode around with (Y/N) for a couple of hours before they returned at dusk.

(Y/N) sat up, pulling her hair behind her shoulders and closing the book she barely read. “He’s stupid.”

“Oh, we know that,” commented Susan. “What did he do this time?”

Waving her hand impatiently in the air, (Y/N) let the frustration pour out in a wave of almost incomprehensible words. “He was angry at me for no reason! I really thought we were more than fine now, but when something doesn’t go his way - he just lashes out! I was clearly trying to help him when he got all bothered and upset after seeing Lord Rami arrive-”

“Lord Rami?” Susan interrupted, closing her book slowly. “He’s arrived?”

(Y/N) nodded, and Susan sighed frustratedly before leaning back with her hands covering her face.

“I knew something would go wrong,” she said through muffled hands. “He wasn’t meant to come this year.”

“Who’s Lord Rami?” (Y/N) asked.

“A noble from Arnchenland...”

Susan stood by the nearest window and looked out at the sky that began to darken, the faintest of pink and orange dusting the horizon. Her thumb was between her teeth as she turned and gave (Y/N) a worried look.

“This meeting won’t go well,” She stated.

(Y/N) simply watched Susan walk quickly to peer down the library’s exit before standing next to the couch (Y/N) was seated on.

“Lord Rami and Edmund had gotten into...an altercation.”

The swordswoman raised an eyebrow at the queen as she continued, “Edmund had made a comment about how the alliance between Archenland and Narnia was dissipating overtime - a fair observation, might I add. He knew that after Lord Rami had gotten more power over lands ruled by Archenland, he might have tried to take some of our own. Lord Rami retaliated, and of course so did Edmund.”

Susan took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her temple. “And then he had brought up what had happened in the past...with Edmund.”

(Y/N) unconsciously grimaced, standing up slowly and putting the book down. She stood closer to Susan with her arms folded.

“He kept blabbering on, and on, and on...about the White Witch...how Ed...”

Susan shook her head and (Y/N) put a hand out to touch her shoulder.

“Edmund knows what he did. He knows. But he’s learnt...so much. He’s changed. And it’s awful that only we know how much he has - there are some people in the palace that still can’t trust him. He thinks we don’t know, Peter, Lucy, and I, but we do. We truly do.”

(Y/N) pulled in Susan for a quick hug, and the queen immediately reciprocated. (Y/N) loosened her grasp on Susan’s arms as they separated.

“You should see how he is,” (Y/N) said.

“But-”

“You’ve known him your entire life,” she replied, hoping her confident voice was enough to mask the hurt in her eyes. “You’ll know what to say.”

Susan was now holding the swordswoman’s hands, tightening her grip for a brief moment before letting go and breathing deeply. (Y/N) knew she couldn’t do much except wish Susan a good evening and watch her disappear out of the library.

(Y/N) knew that it wasn’t her place to interfere with such situations. There was no possible way that she would be able to comfort him like his siblings would, and it amazed her quite a lot how much they cared for one another. Of course, her own siblings did show their affection every now and then, but not like the Kings and Queens of Narnia. It seemed as though they would pour out their whole heart to each other, and in the end, they knew that everything would all be alright.

She couldn’t help but think of how Edmund might act now. She worried that with Lord Rami here, his patience with her purposefully annoying antics would run short, and he would not treat her the same. (Y/N) wiped her hands along her trousers and then tucked a few stray hairs behind her ears. She needed to calm down a little. She let her feet take her to exit of the library and ascend the nearest staircase, not realising how much her legs had ached from horse riding until she had reached the top step.

Her leather boots clicked softly on the tiled floor as she made her way to her chambers, the familar intricate paintings and detailed rug that lay outside her door welcomed her. She entered with a long sigh and shut the door quietly behind her, peeling her clothes off and throwing them off to the side. She was too tired to take a bath right now, so she settled for washing her face and putting on her nightgown.

(Y/N) tugged her hair down from its tight knot and massaged her scalp as she collapsed onto her soft bed. Her long day began to catch up to her as her eyelids grew heavy, and as she lazily promised herself she would get up in an hour to check on Edmund, sleep had already begun to wrap around her mind. She let her hand fall from her scalp and nuzzled her nose into her pillow, and only seconds later did she fall into a deep slumber.

*

“(Y/N)?”

A quiet voice called out to her softly, stirring her awake. (Y/N) frowned in confusion, taking a moment to wake herself up. She blinked a few times and the first thing she noticed was that the room was almost pitch black. The sun had obviously set, and a soft breeze was circling the room, tickling (Y/N)’s bare legs.

The next thing she noticed was the person sitting up in her bed and their one hand that was laying on her calf, stroking the skin there softly with their thumb. (Y/N) immediately brought herself to sit up as Edmund shifted away and let his hand fall into his lap. Her stomach was swarming with nervous butterflies as she tried to make out the expression on his face.

“Edmund?” she began, watching Edmund as his eyes went from his lap to her eyes, the simple move giving her goosebumps. “Are you okay?”

Edmund nodded slowly and brought his hand to scratch the back of his head. “Can I stay?”

(Y/N)’s heart fluttered, and her mind reeled back to when he appeared in her room for the first time in the middle of the night. The moonlight had illuminated his terror-stricken face, with a sheen of sweat on his neck and chest. She had welcomed him into her arms without hesitation.

But, this time was different. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, and they roamed across Edmund’s face, she noticed a wetness around his eyes. She uncovered herself from the sheets and moved to the edge of the bed beside him.

(Y/N) guided a hand to his freckled cheek, letting it hover for a moment before resting it on his icy skin. At the sound of his soft sigh, her stomach twisted and she felt tears of her own prickle at her eyes. She swiped her thumb under his eye and Edmund’s tears met her soft hand.

Immediately, Edmund broke. A fresh stream of tears ran down his cheeks as he let out a quiet whimper and brought his hands to his face. (Y/N) didn’t wait any longer before sitting up on her knees and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him towards her tightly. He responded just as quickly, his arms enveloping her torso as he cried into her nightgown. She brought her lips to the top of his head and closed her eyes, her tears falling into his hair.

(Y/N) let him cry, and soon his cries turned to sobs. His shoulders shook as he swallowed deep breaths, muttering things that she couldn’t comprehend. Her stomach had dropped down to her feet as he began to apologise; over, and over again, with his face burying deeper into her chest. A couple of minutes passed, accompanied by Edmund’s cries and the soft whistling noise that the wind made. When she felt him loosen his grip on her, (Y/N) brought her hands to both sides of his face and pulled his head from her body so that she could meet his eyes.

His bloodshot eyes met her own.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, shaking his head slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that to you, I should’ve held my tongue. I just...I got so angry. I didn’t mean any of it-”

(Y/N) began to hush him as more tears began to pool in his eyes. She pushed his silky hair out of his face and wiped the rest of his tears away.

“I know, I know,” she began as she sniffled. “It’s okay...Ed, it’s okay. I’m so sorry. For everything. I never meant any of it either.”

Edmund shook his head and brought his hands to (Y/N)‘s face. Silence danced between them as they caught their breaths.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, smoothing down the young woman’s tousled hair.

(Y/N) brought her hands to his tunic and pulled him in to place a soft kiss on his lips. He kissed her back, his chapped lips moving against her carefully and (Y/N) tasted tears. She leaned further into his embrace and took her hand to the nape of his neck, the other placed on his shoulder.

Edmund broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. He pressed his hands against (Y/N)‘s back as she sat down on her heels, her face now level with his. She opened her eyes lazily, and saw that his were still closed. His hands moved up and down her back in soft, slow motions.

Edmund took a hand to her cheek and sniffled. He opened his eyes and leaned back to look at her longingly.

“Come,” she said earnestly, pulling at his hand as she shuffled back underneath the sheets. “Stay with me.”

The young king followed her as he did all those nights before, folding the sheets back gently and slipping right beside her. They found warmth and comfort as soon as their bodies met, and as they wrapped themselves around eachother, with Edmund’s head resting on her shoulder, (Y/N)’s cheek finding itself atop his head, they drifted into a dreamless sleep unlike any other.

*

Bright rays of sunlight shook the sleep from (Y/N)’s eyes, leaving her in a frustrating fight to fall back into unconscious. Warm breaths fell delicately on her left cheek, and as she fully awakened, she felt Edmund’s body by her side. His legs were tangled with hers and as one arm lay behind her head, the other was draped across her stomach. The blanket of warmth he provided lulled her to press herself closer to him, and rest her face in the crook of his neck before breathing him in softly. She leaned back again and took a long look at him, feeling as though it was like seeing the first break of spring sunlight.

Edmund began to stir, and it took a moment before she finally saw familiar gold-flecked eyes staring up at the ceiling. (Y/N) smiled at the sight of him, her chest bleeding happiness. She leaned towards his jaw and pressed a kiss there, and under his chin, and continued her path down to his chest.

A heavy chuckle escaped Edmund as (Y/N) propped her chin on his chest and looked up at him. He was heavy with sleep, but that didn’t stop him from sitting up and wrapping his arms around the swordswoman to lay her gently on her back. She let out a breathy laugh as he mirrored her previous movements, kissing her jaw, her chin...

(Y/N) grinned and tried to haul him up so she could kiss him properly, but as soon as his face came close to hers, she grimaced.

“Your breath,” she said in a croaky voice. “It smells awful.”

Edmund laugh lowly, sending a chill through her body. “Yours, too.”

He met her lips in a sloppy kiss, and she groaned in disgust.

“Ed, seriously it’s disgusting,” she said, her words muffled against his lips.

He smiled and pulled away, watching her wipe her lips on the pillow next to her. (Y/N) grinned widely as her eyes met his, pulling him in for a hug as she stroked his back.

Edmund spoke first. “We need to be careful tomorrow.”

(Y/N) frowned. “Because of Lord Rami?”

“Yes...and no.” He pulled away from her hug and settled his hand on her hip. “Representatives of Tashbaan will be there, too. And yes, they will have received news of the supply shipments making way to their ports, but it won’t stop their hostility towards you. You mustn’t do what I did. Don’t show your anger.”

(Y/N) feigned a gasp. “Me? Show my anger? How could I ever?”

Edmund gave her a half-hearted smile before brushing a hair behind her ear. “You would be very surprised.”

She chuckled softly and closed her eyes, reveling in the young king’s warm arms and his quiet breaths.

“I wish I could stay here,” she began. “Forever.”

“Then stay.”

(Y/N) opened her eyes to find Edmund’s gaze already on her, a serious expression taking a hold on his face.

“Ed-”

“After your siblings’ wedding, you can come back. I mean, if you really aren’t happy there...if you’re happier here...”

(Y/N) blinked slowly, her chest clenching as she realised that sooner or later, she would have to leave Cair Paravel. She would leave its woods and sun-kissed cliff side. She’d leave Peter, Susan, Lucy...Edmund.

And she would be miserable.

(Y/N) let her hand drift over to Edmund’s face to rest in his soft hair and stroke her thumb across the shell of his ear.

“My family needs me, Ed.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, so carefully, as though it would be the last time. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Leaning back slightly, he pressed the tip of his nose against hers. “You won’t be leaving your family alone, we can help them. Of course, you’ll visit them whenever and for however long you like. You won’t have to choose.”

“But I do,” she replied softly. “We all do. I can’t be both in my head and in my heart. Especially not now. Maybe later down the track, when everything is better, we can do that.”

(Y/N) brought a hand up to the young king’s face, making a path of his freckles with her eyes. He leaned into her touch, eyelids falling shut. She forced back tears that sprung to her eyes and tried to swallow the burning lump that appeared in her throat.

If I leave, it won’t be forever, she willed herself to say over and over again until the lump almost disappeared.

Almost.

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