#or just pretend peter's golden hair counts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nyctophicbtch · 2 years

Text

Artemis - Drukkari

[ Druig x Makkari!daughter ]

Request: Eternals were not meant to birth children, however Makkari and Druig had somehow broken that nature, receiving twins that concepted what humans know today as Artemis and Apollo. In order to prevent the eternals' grief from your brother's death many years later after the disbandment of the eternals, you found a way to erased their memories of the two of you.

Click here for the full request

Author’s note: I know that Ajak only changed her mind about the emergence because of the blip, but let’s pretend she changed her mind a long time ago for the sake of the story.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death

Word Count: 5,285

read the prequel - Artemis and Apollo

read the other prequel - Night Patrol (Peter Parker)

Your mother cupped your face with her hands, giving you an encouraging smile before kissing your forehead. No words had to be exchanged to see the true extent of the exchanged gesture.

'Stay strong’ she signed, the leftovers and fire on the battlefield blurring in the back of your mind as a more overwhelming thought occupied the space in your head.

Your father had just left and the eternals were separating.

771 CE, BABYLON

It was a miracle, really. The birth of you and your twin brother, Apolo, wasn’t supposed to happen. Never had there been eternals who had the ability to procreate life from sexual exchange with another eternal.

Life was more than amazing with the eternals and humans coexisting together, and you and your brother got to spend your childhood growing unlike the rest of the eternals. The two of you grew slower than most, but you weren’t immortal like the rest.

Druig, your telepath father, stood, leaning against one of the trees with a pleased smile, observing as you shot multiple targets within a mere blink of an eye with the golden translucent bow and arrow that appeared whenever you'd needed it.

‘That’s it. You’re getting better.’ Makkari, your mother, signed as she knelt down to your level, embracing your small figure in a tight hug whilst your father approached.

“You know, we both thought you and your brother would inherit our powers. Guess we were both incorrect.” Your father stood with both hands in his pocket, looming down at the two of you with the smile that grew from watching the loving gesture.

"There she is! The birthday girl!" You parted from your mother, glancing back to see Kingo and Sprite approach, Sprite ruffling your hair along the way.

"You grew up so fast. Careful, Sprite. The twins are going to outgrow you soon," Kingo teased, earning himself a shove from the girl beside him.

You ran to the man as he knelt down to embrace you. "You're back."

"Nasty deviants take a while to handle," he replied with a chuckle as your parents stood beside each other, an arm wrapped around your mother as they drank in the sight of their daughter reuniting with one of her favorite uncles.

1521, AZTEC TENOCHTITLAN

"What's going on?" Polo questioned as the two of you took notice of the tense expressions everyone wore and Ajak standing in between Ikaris and your dad as you entered the temple.

You noticed the missing sounds of screaming and gunfire that once echoed in the background, and immediately, you turned your gaze to your father.

"Dad?" His head snapped to yours at the sound of your voice and his angered gaze wavered as he glanced at your eyes brimmed with tears.

He stayed silent, the gold in his eyes never faltering, even when you heard the faint whisper in your head. I'll come back for you someday, my loves. Remember that.

You watched as your father descended down the stairs, and when Ajak dispersed the group, you heard your twin going against it. No words were spoken; no attempts to defend him. You merely stared where you saw your father disappearing into the fog.

I'll come back for you someday.

Yet he never did, and neither did your mother.

MARCH 1771, RUSSIA

"V tom, chto vse?" Asked the man you recognized to be a distant descendant of the man Phastos once called a friend.

"Da. Spasibo," you thanked the man seductively as he gave you the hologram map -- a device way too advanced for a mere human to create -- to the Domo, the current goal you had being the only thing set in your mind.

After your twin brother's death, you had decided that your parents and the rest of the eternals were burdened enough. You were determined more than ever now -- after the grief you'd experience -- to release your parents from the pain his death would cause before they'd find out.

There was no going back. Your power didn’t extend to the point where you could restore memories once they’ve been wiped, and you had to live with the fact that none of them will remember who you are.

Your first targets were the easy ones -- apart from your father --, finally leading you to your mother who, you recently found out, stayed in the Domo.

APRIL 1771, IRAQ

Sand.

Acres of sand covered your vision for the past hour, until the red dot on the hologram map perfectly lined up with the cursor that indicated where you were.

Although you had lived with the eternals for thousands of years, not once have you seen their spaceship, and you started to get wary as you approached the solution on how to get inside the Domo with all the sand covering it.

Your father hadn't been an easy one to get through, but over the past few years back in Babylon, you'd learn to block your thoughts from him, and allow your presence to be undetectable by the telepath.

Your mother however, was quick on her feet. If she sensed you and your footsteps, she'd be confronting you before you could even start to think of an escape.

So here you stood, stubbornly following the trail your mother left on how to get into the Domo through the sand without leaving your trails behind. The spaceship was larger than you’d expected, and at first it took you a while to navigate through the different rooms and hallways, but as you entered the main area, you knew better than to navigate around where the vibration of your footsteps could be heard.

Cats were the first quiet species that you could think of that didn’t acquire too much space to walk around in, so you transformed into exactly that. You just hoped your quiet footsteps were gentle enough to be able to sneak close enough to your mother.

And just as you suspected, she came rushing to the hiding spot you once hid in as she sensed your presence, only to come face to face with the stack of books you hid behind not too long ago.

Your mother ignored the nagging thought in the back of her head that told her that it was only you who could’ve outsmarted her speed, and that you were here. After years of separation, all you wanted was to reach for her, tell her everything, stay with her, but you thought against it and carried on with the spell.

***

The painfully long walk back from the mass amounts of sand on bare feet made you wish you inherited your mother’s super speed. The sun was starting to set and you had to head back before it got dark, but as you saw a person on a horse approaching you, you paused your journey.

"Ajak," you shakily breathed out. "You know."

It wasn't a question but she nodded nevertheless, motioning you to go follow her, and you did, silently trailing behind her. There was no need to erase Ajak’s memories, which was your last target after your mother. She had already grieved the loss of one of the twins and she knew you wouldn’t have wanted her to restore their memories back.

“Come inside,” she offered as you stepped to the porch of the single brown house amongst the field. You hesitantly complied to her request, letting yourself enter the cozy home and take a good look around.

The walls were made out of wood, and to the right of the living room was the kitchen. It was nothing large like the other places you’ve seen Ajak called home, but it was a decent living space. It had almost reminded you of the home you and your twin shared after parting with your parents.

Money was difficult the first few years, but you two quickly grew accustomed to the changing job systems within time, and were able to live various different identities.

“Please, sit.” Ajak motioned to the couch. “Tea?”

“No, thank you.”

It didn’t take long for Ajak to boil some hot water for the tea and return to the couch, sitting beside you.

“I know you’d want me to keep you hidden from them, but when the time comes, they need to remember. They need you, and each other.”

"Then why did she never visit him? Why didn't she come with him in the first place?" was the first question your irrational mind asked. It was your hurt and betrayal that were speaking this time.

“There are some things that you weren't supposed to understand.”

“I’m two thousand and six hundred,” you argued.

“You’re young. You’re eighteen.”

And when Ajak started telling you about Arishem and the celestials, you felt your head start to spin as it attempted to process the newfound information. How were you supposed to respond when you were just told the family you lived with for thousands of years had been living in a lie?

“Ikaris is loyal to Arishem,” you stated.

Ajak wasn’t a fool. She knew Ikaris would still serve Arishem if she were to tell him. And what about the eternals? What would happen when the deviants rise and you’d need to reunite? What would your parents think of the scheme you pulled on them and the rest of the eternals?

As if noticing your distressed thoughts, Ajak took your hands in hers, providing some sort of comfort before softly speaking up towards your obvious contemplation. “It’s better to restore their memories sooner.”

“They can enjoy the years they have left,” you argued.

Were you selfish enough to be unwilling to undo all your hard work in locating each eternal? Were you not ready to face their looks of disappointment when they’d all found out what you did? You weren’t quite sure.

“You’ll give them time to grief before having to discover the truth.”

And yet, even with Ajak’s seemingly more suitable argument for the situation, you still went with yours.

7 DAYS AGO

“Makkari.”

Makkari’s eyes widened as she turned around to face the person who had just lightly gripped her shoulders, and before she could stop her, Ajak held the sides of her head with her hands, restoring the memories that were once lost.

She stumbled back in shock of retrieving those memories, gripping the polished stone counter in her room in the Domo.

‘What did you do?’ Makkari signed, gazing at Ajak in horror.

***

“That should be enough, Darret.” The man nodded and brought the stack of freshly cut wood towards one of the stands.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Ajak,” Druig calmly stated as he sensed Ajak nonchalantly walking towards him from behind.

“Lovely place,” Ajak mentioned, eyes darting to look around the rainforest village.

“What do you want?” Druig questioned as Ajak took steps forward, nearing until they were only a foot away. His gaze on her didn’t waver as she looked him in the eye, neither did he attempt to step back in order to keep the distance between him and Ajak.

“Oh, Druig,” she sighed, placing her hands on either side of his head before he could have any further objections.

Hundreds and thousands of lost memories filled his mind in a few seconds as Ajak’s hands, along with his eyes, glowed gold. He staggered back and took harsh breaths as the glow started to fade and his senses filled with the reality of the rainforest surrounding them.

“He had a good heart,” Ajak said, smiling dolefully at Druig who had now managed to stand properly again. “And she had always been a bright kid.”

As if realizing how this had all occurred, his eyes held sorrow in them as he stated, “He’s dead.”

Ajak nodded, confirming his speculation before suggesting that they head inside.

“What about Makkari? And the others?”

“She erased their memories as well, but I’ve restored them. You were my last stop,” she lied. Ikaris was her last stop. She feared that if she were to visit Ikaris first, she wouldn’t have been able to retrieve Druig’s memories. And she had been right.

“Why would you? Restore our memories, I mean.”

“You needed to know,” Ajak answered and Druig held no suspicions, the more disturbing thoughts drowning any other rational thoughts in his mind.

He had forgotten you and your brother’s existence for 253 years. All the eternals had. And now his son is dead.

THE PRESENT (2024)

“Come on, buddy,” you bid, earning the attention of your dog who complied and strutted back inside the house.

“Are you sure?”

“Certain. I love dogs,” a friend of yours replied.

With the deviant attacks you’d witness through the television, it was beyond doubt that Ajak had restored everyone’s memories by now and they’d possibly go looking for you. So here you were, making sure your absolute love and best friend, your dog, was safe with one of your neighbors.

“We’re gonna have lots of fun, aren’t we?” Your friend cooed as she walked towards your front door.

“Thanks a lot. I needed this.”

“No problem, he’s in good hands,” she shrugged you off, opening the door only to look slightly surprised before calling out to you. “You have visitors!”

Right now? No, this is too soon, you thought as you hesitantly brought yourself from the kitchen to the front door. And there they were. The rare, foreign sight of Ikaris and Sersi waving vaguely at you from your driveway.

You were nowhere near ready to meet your parents again. What would you say? Would it be awkward? Of course it would.

“Come on, Alfee. I’ll make sure you’re well fed until your owner is back,” your cheerful neighbor said before waving goodbye and walking past Ikaris and Sersi, but not before giving them a smile.

“I see you got a dog,” Ikaris smiled, the three of you approaching each other.

“Come in,” you said, and they did, the three of you piling up on your couch.

“I’m sorry,” Sersi spoke first after the excruciating silence, laying a hand on your shoulder. You nodded, getting right to the point.

“So the deviants are back? How did you remember?”

“Yes, and that’s not all. Ajak is dead,” Ikaris stated and was quickly interrupted by Sersi. “She came a few days ago to retrieve our memories before a deviant killed her.”

You nodded as she explained about the emergence, and fortunately, you didn’t have to feign shock nor sadness. Ajak’s death was news to you as well. It was when you locked eyes with Ikaris you knew, and it looked like he knew you figured it out as well.

“We need you,” Ikaris said, the sharp look he gave with his eyes kept its gaze on you, as if threatening you to keep your mouth shut.

Needless to say, the trip to fetch the rest of the eternals was the least bit enjoyable to you when you had crucial information that you kept hidden from them. But you were thrilled to see Kingo anyways. He kept rambling excitedly about how much you’ve grown over the past few years. You remembered how much fun you’d have with him as a child, and when you’d visited Thena and Gilgamesh, they had welcomed you with warm arms -- although Thena wasn’t so welcoming at first, yet you understood her memories were just jumbled up.

Ikaris seemed friendly and started conversations with you whenever you were with the group, however he’d become distant when you two were alone, which rarely happened since you were mostly with Thena or Sersi, sometimes Sprite as well.

Although you were content to see the eternals after years, you dreaded the thought of meeting your father as you journeyed to his rainforest village.

The villagers busied themselves with tasks as you entered the area. When Sprite attempted to ask one of them where your father was, his eyes glowed, and at that moment, you wished you could go back to London where Alfee was and forget about all this.

“Hello, Sprite.”

Your father emerged not long after and you tried not to draw attention to you, in hopes he wouldn’t notice, but you’d be naive to think he hadn’t sensed your presence already.

You locked eyes with the man you once looked up to. The hostile facade he had suddenly crumpled as guilt and sorrow flooded his eyes. He was hurt and you could tell. Your father wasn’t over Apolo’s death, and how could he when you’d only given him a few days to grief before barging into his home with the family he left behind?

Silence. Not in the current room where you all sat, discussing how to stop the emergence, but silence between you and your father.

You flinched as Karun threw his camera, or rather, your father threw his camera. You hadn’t said a word since the moment you arrived, and you continued to observe silently as he stormed out of the building after childishly taunting Ikaris.

“Druig sucks.”

“He does, sir.”

You snorted at their comment, earning looks from everyone else in the room. It was the first sound you’ve made ever since arriving, and they certainly didn’t expect it to be laughter from the tension floating around in the air.

You continued laughing as you got up and left the building, not sure anymore whether you’re truly laughing or just laughing out of bitterness. You hadn’t realized tears were flowing until you noticed the looks the villagers gave you as you passed by their homes.

Nevertheless, you ignored their stares and continued walking to wherever you could find yourself at peace. It took about five minutes until you heard the sound of gushing water coming from the waterfall that lay in front of you.

You missed them, the family you once had. You missed your brother. You missed your parents. You missed Ajak. But most of all, you missed the bond you all had centuries ago, even if you were living a lie.

Dwelling on the past had become a natural instinct by now. Whenever you’d feel truly alone is when you’d miss your family, and that feeling frequently came back after your brother’s death.

You didn’t even care about the sun that had already set not too long ago. It was only when you heard screams and beastly noises when you were brought back to reality.

And reality really hit you like a ton of bricks when you failed to puncture your arrow through the deviant that attacked Gilgamesh. Although you had the help of your arrows, along with Ikaris, the deviant managed to escape, leaving you with the aftermath of the battle where Thena held Gilgamesh on the ground.

If you could have just come a second earlier, you probably wouldn’t be standing here in Gilgamesh’s passing ceremony. You wouldn’t be watching Thena consumed by her built up grief as she held Gilgamesh’s ashes in her hands.

“It wasn’t your fault. You came as fast as you could,” your father spoke his very first words to you after years. You didn’t return his gaze, and instead walked away.

***

Now that your father accompanied you, the rest of the journey became even more uncomfortable. And what made it worse was that you were about to face your mother.

“What has she done? Isn’t that-?” Phastos was in utter disbelief.

Your mother looked up with a smile as she saw the eternals, but it soon dropped when her gaze landed on you. What you didn’t expect was for her to come rushing with her superspeed to embrace you in a tight hug.

Your longing told you to hug back, but your mind told you to pull away. And so you sternly pushed her away before storming out the room out of the feeling of betrayal and hurt. Hurt that she never came back for you, even though Ajak restored her memories.

You walked around the corridors and hallways, trying to navigate through the place for a few minutes before giving up and slumping down against a wall. The overwhelming urge to just run back and embrace your parents was tempting, but your stubbornness got the best of you.

Blinking back the tears that threatened to escape, you leaned your head back against the wall as you sat on the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest.

It took longer than you had expected for your mother to find you slumped on the floor, looking at the ceiling. Your guess was that your father held her back when she was about to rush out for you, asking her to give you time to yourself for a bit.

She sat next to you, letting the silence fill in for a few seconds before you turned to look at her.

“Why didn’t you come back for us? Why didn’t you come back for me after you found out? Dad promised.”

‘We wanted to give you two your space. We never wanted you to have to choose between us,’ she signed.

“Then we all could’ve joined him.” Your mother frowned, thinking of her next words carefully.

‘Your father needed time for himself. I let him go. With his overwhelmed thoughts back in the tenochtitlan, I wasn’t sure if bringing you and Apolo with him was a good idea.’

When you stayed silent, your mother knew her answer didn’t cut it, but it was the truth.

‘I’m sorry I never visited you,’ she signed, bringing a hand to your cheek to wipe the single tear that had fallen from her confession. ‘After Ajak told me, I wanted nothing more than to visit you and your father. But I knew trying to bring us back together would just make it worse.’

That was all your mother needed to explain, so she continued, ‘The humans call you Artemis. They used to see us as gods. But even the gods were described to be selfish and made many mistakes.’

You already knew the meaning behind the comment she added. She had forgiven your father long ago. In fact, she felt as if there was nothing to forgive. And now it was your turn.

When more tears started to fall, you finally let loose, the stubborn angry part of you long forgotten. You let her hold you, finally feeling at peace even if it was just for a while. The built up tension inside of you towards your mother was finally released.

You missed her, you missed both of them, you wanted to say, but the words never ended up leaving your mouth as she let your tears fall onto her shoulder. Five hundred years may not seem like a long time for someone who could live thousands of years, but it was just as painfully long as if you were human.

As you finally pulled away and wiped your tears as you smiled at her, you noticed your father standing with that sorrowful look, observing the scene that had just unfold in front of him. Without hesitation, you got up and ran towards him where he accepted you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled between sobs, repeating the same words over and over again even after your father had assured you that it was him who needed to apologize for the mess he caused.

“I’m so sorry.”

***

“Why don’t we turn Tiamut into an ant?” Sprite’s question from not too long ago lingered in your mind.

“You can do that, right?” Her gaze had landed on you and you shrugged, anxious from the now many eyes that had been on you.

“Putting Tiamut to sleep is the safest option,” Phastos argued.

After you told your parents about Ikaris’ betrayal, it wasn’t long after he revealed that he hated the plan to stop Tiamut, and with the help of your dad, the rest of the eternals managed to find out Ajak’s true cause of death.

“I warned you to keep your mouth shut,” Ikaris had threatened you the minute everyone else knew, causing your father to instinctively step in front of you and defend you.

And here you were, just the six of you, plotting on how to stop Tiamut now that the Uni-mind isn’t an option thanks to Ikaris.

Or so you thought, until Phastos suddenly gasped, startling most who were in the room with him.

"I figured it out!" He took your mother's hands in his and shook them out of happiness, before rushing to go find Sersi who was currently being consulted by Thena.

As soon as the inventor left, your father stood from his seat, walking towards your mom and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Don't do that," you squealed in disgust as he started throwing flirty, suggestive comments.

'Did you forget that your child is in the room?' she signed, earning your grateful stare even though she was enjoying this.

"I guess we'll have to take this somewhere else."

"I didn't need to hear that," you groaned, rushing out before they could say anything else.

Apparently, even with the tense mellow air that lingered because of your brother's death, five hundred years apart made their interactions even more… explicit, and you weren't going to stick around for that, although you knew they were just teasing you.

So you joined Phastos as he finally finished the Uni-mind, standing beside Sersi who looked at his invention in awe.

Not long after, you heard the gush of wind as your mother joined in, your father following behind her, when Phastos converted the Uni-mind to bracelets

"Let's go suit up," he said, twirling the bracelet between his fingers, tossing one to each person in the room, including you.

"I'm not an eternal."

"You're just as strong as any of us. We need you," Sersi replied, and you nodded.

***

"Thena, play nice," Ikaris warned as you observed from above, arrow lock on him the entire time.

"You never had to fight me."

"But I've always wanted to." And when she struggled to fight him, you released your arrow, going through his shoulder and alerting him of your presence in the room.

He was about to attack you, when the Uni-mind started connecting Thena to the rest, forcing Ikaris to retreat and go for the other three eternals instead.

You jumped down from your hiding spot, transforming into a chimera in the process and lunging at Ikaris in the air.

The weight of your force distracted him from his goal, but he easily brushed you off as he flew faster towards his target.

And so you went with your arrow as the better method, shifting back to human as you land on the ground, and quickly releasing your arrow.

It merely brushed his leg, but you had to give yourself credit for hitting any part of him at all since he was a quick, moving, flying target.

But when he attacked your father, you quickly ran towards them.

"I should've done this five centuries ago!" You heard him shout and the next thing you know, he was blasting him before destroying the Domo.

Your heart stopped the moment you saw the dent he left where he had attacked your father. You just got him back. You couldn’t lose him again.

Out of rage, you pounced on him in the air, attacking with whatever weapon your bow could be used for in such a short distance. He brought you higher up into the air where you wouldn't manage to survive if you'd dropped down from this height as a human.

The two of you struggled for a while, before he managed to slam you down onto the rocks by the beach, causing your mother who had just witnessed the fight to cry out to you.

You barely heard her scream, but it was already painful enough at it was; to look at her in such distress. Everything hurt. Your body felt weak and limp, but it wasn’t enough to injure you too much. It was nothing like what Ikaris had just done to your father.

Through hooded eyes, you saw her rush to bring the others to safety as Ikaris appeared before them.

"Druig's gone. It's over." The newfound rage that filled her face before she sped towards him almost terrified you. And the next thing you knew, they were gone in a blink of an eye.

As soon as you managed to get up, you ran along behind where Thena and Phastos had just gone, slower than usual from the pain your back felt.

Horror quickly flooded you as you saw the deviant you let escape in your father’s village grab your mother and attach its tentacles to her, just as it did to Gilgamesh.

"Mom!" Without hesitation you launched an arrow straight through the deviant who was absorbing your mother’s powers, and your eyes widened as it quickly healed itself.

Deviants usually never manage to make it out alive once you struck your arrow straight through its chest, but apparently, this one had gotten a lot stronger than you thought it would.

Luckily, Thena was there to chase after it when it ran, and Phastos was there to restrain Ikaris so you could help your mother.

“Are you okay?” You signed, helping her up.

‘Yes. You?’

“I’m fi-'' As you were about to respond, you felt the ground rumble as Tiamut’s large golden fingers started to appear around the island you were on. To add to the list of everything going wrong today, the force it took Ikaris to break free from his restraint knocked both you and your mother down.

“We need to help her.”

‘No, look.’ Your mother pointed towards the glowing figures from above, and soon enough, the Uni-mind attached you as well, freezing Tiamut. But you also saw the figure that flew not long after, higher and higher, your eyes following Ikaris until you couldn’t see him anymore.

‘He’s gone.’ She signed as she looked to your line of sight, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for comfort.

After the rush of events that had happened the past few days, you definitely needed this. You weren’t even sure whether your father was alive after Ikaris had attacked him, and the thought made you wary for a moment. That was, until your mother nudged you, signaling you to turn around where you saw your father approaching.

She let the arm that held you slip, walking towards your father and embracing him before leaning her forehead to his. It was a gesture she often shared with you and your father when you were younger.

You couldn’t even begin to explain how relieved you were that he was alive, but then again, you never underestimated him. He had been your inspiration; the one you looked up to when you were little, and would always be.

No words required to be exchanged as you ran towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug after your mother had pulled away. She watched the two of you with a smile, tears brimming her eyes as she drank in the sight.

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, releasing you and dragging you along with him by your shoulder towards the others.

Standing next to both your parents was something you longed for these past few centuries, though you couldn’t seem to grasp the thought after the separation and your brother’s death.

Yet here you were, drinking in the sight and aftermath of putting a stop to the emergence.

You didn’t know what might happen next, or what consequences may bring towards your actions, but what you did know was that from now on, as long as you’re still breathing, you were going to stay and fight for the family you were given.

Your powers: shapeshifting into animals, turning others into animals, wielding and creating a bow and arrow (like how Thena creates her weapons out of thin air)

150 years is equivalent to a one years old (in terms of maturity and physical growth).

879 BC: you and your twin brother were born

771 CE: 1,650 years old (11)

1521: 2,400 years old (16)

1771: 2,650 years old (18)

2024: 2,903 years old (19)

393 notes · View notes

itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

You and Me || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: your best friend, peter parker, disappeared with the snap of thanos’ fingers five years ago. when he comes back after five long years things may have changed, but you’ll always be his

a/n: okay so here let’s pretend that even if you were snapped you still aged; reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: angst w/ happy ending, a lot of this involved the battle scene from endgame so fighting, getting crushed and tony’s death

masterlist || request || taglist

"Y/n? Oh my God, Y/n! Are you seeing this on the news? It’s crazy! I- I don’t even know what that is! M- maybe it’s aliens! That would mean-”

“Woah! Peter slow down!” You whispered to your best friend on the phone, sneaking into the bathroom to take the call in the middle of class. “What’s going on?”

You could hear shuffling and heavy breathing on his end, no doubt swinging across the city while holding the phone to his ear. “So I was on the bus and then I saw this big round spaceship thing so I was like ‘Oh shoot! Mr. Stark might need me!’ so I had Ned distract the bus-”

“Wait. You’re following a spaceship?” You asked, watching as the only other person who had been in the bathroom finally left. “Peter that sounds really dangerous. Maybe... maybe you should let the big guys handle it.”

Despite your best efforts to conceal it, Peter could hear the anxiety laced in your voice even over the phone.

“Y/n, I- I have to.” He told you, and you could hear him stop swinging on the other side. “If you were nearby, you would do the same thing. I know you would.”

“Yeah, and if you were in my position, you would tell me not to too.” You chuckled, leaning against the bathroom wall.

“”Yeah, because you need me there to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes at what your best friend had just said. Despite him not being able to see you, you knew he knew you well enough to take the hint. “Shut up!” You gasped. “At least my powers are cool! I can do magic, spider boy.”

Before he could even argue with your nickname for him, reminding you that he was “Spider-Man” and not “Spider-Boy”, he cursed on the other line.

“Shit! This guy’s huge!” He exclaimed. “I have to go, Y/n.”

“Wait!” You shouted into the phone. “Be safe!”

“You got it, Y/n!”

Holding the phone tighter to your ear, you found the courage to finally say it.

“I- I love you.”

But before you could get a reply, the line went dead.

“Y/n!” You heard a voice shout, but you weren’t able to tell from where.

You opened your eyes only to be met with darkness and a heavy weight crushing your chest and covering every part of your body. Huffing you attempted to wiggle your fingers, seeing if there was any part of you not crushed by the absolute weight of concrete on top of you. When you felt a few of your fingers able to move freely, you stretched them out, allowing the golden glow of your magic to flow from your hand.

“Y/n?” You heard again, this time recognizing the voice as Cap’s.

“Hey, Y/n’s over here!” You heard Tony shout from above, closer than Steve.

Without another word, you felt the weight thrown off of you as Steve picked up the slab that had crushed you. You looked up only to be met with the somber faces of both Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, the wires sparking and dust rising around them. Steve kneeled above you, reaching out his hand to pull you up and still coughing you accepted it.

“You okay, kid?” He asked.

Standing up and stretching out your arms, making sure you could move everything, you nodded. “Yeah,” You replied, suddenly taking in the scene around you. What felt like seconds before you had been standing in the Compound, but now you were surrounded by ash, dust and destruction. “What happened?”

You followed them as they made their way over to Thor who was standing feet away, observing the field ahead of him. You watched as Cap shrugged.

“I think we’re about to find out.”

Minutes later when you were besides Steve, picking yourself up and off of the ground, you almost wished you hadn't asked. You watched as alien ships and Thano’s army flew overhead and marched into your line of sight. You grew hopeless. Although you and the other Avengers who were at the Compound were undeniably powerful, you knew that even Steve who stood at your side, strapping his shield tighter around his injured arm was aware of the likelihood of you all making it out not only alive, but on top.

Just then, however, you heard the voice speak through Cap’s earpiece.

Turning around you watched as a singular portal opened behind him and began to feel tears prickling in your eyes- as much as you would deny crying once the battle was over. As more portals continued to open up, you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face, seeing everyone who had disappeared five years ago beside you again. However, there was one face you couldn’t help but search for.

You finally laid eyes on him as a portal opened up from a remote planet you didn’t recognize. At first you only saw unfamiliar faces and nearly grew discouraged until you saw your favorite spider boy swing through the portal.

Before you could see him without his mask, you spun around as you heard Cap’s orders.

“Avengers... assemble.”

With that, everything happened so fast. You were floating across the field in seconds, shooting bursts of magic out of your hands at each warrior that came your way. Knocking each of the alien warriors to the ground, you couldn’t help but check around you, watching to see if you would be lucky enough to have him fighting beside you once again.

Before the blip you and Peter had always fought beside each other. The two of you were essentially inseparable and the whole team who knew the two of you knew it. You told yourselves that it was just because you were younger and less experienced- that a buddy system was beneficial to the both of you. You knew better though.

By the time that Peter had been snapped to dust by Thanos’ fingers, you had fully accepted the feelings that you had for your best friend. You were so adamant about being beside him on the battlefield because you had to make sure he was okay- to make sure he was safe. You knew how easily distracted he could get, caught up in the moment of being a superhero, so you were always sure to look out for him and cover his back, not just for him but for yourself as well. You never told him your feelings though in fear that it would ruin the relationship you had built.

It was your biggest regret for the past five years of your life.

Knowing he was back, you needed to find him.

It was as though God had heard you and answered your prayers when once you looked up from killing another one of Thanos’ warriors, your eyes met across the field.

As soon as you saw him, you watched as he tapped the side of his neck, the mask that had been covering his face, retracting.

He looked older- five years older to be exact. The baby face you had grown to love had matured into one that was recognizable, but undeniably new. His hair was a bit longer, his shoulders looked broader and you were sure he had grown taller. All the changes didn’t matter an ounce to you though- all that mattered was that he was your Peter and that he was finally standing right in front of you.

Your hands trembling at your sides, you looked at him and dared yourself to smile.

“Peter?”

He smiled right back and in that moment you were sure that your feelings hadn’t changed a bit from five years ago. God, you missed him.

“Y/n?” He asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, overjoyed to hear your name slipping out of his mouth again. No longer being able to hold yourself back, you ran across the space to him and he did the same. Meeting in the middle, he immediately slipped his arms under your arms and around your waist, picking you up and off the ground in a tight embrace. You were so afraid of him slipping away through your fingers- you grasped him so tightly you were sure that if his suit wasn’t made of metal, you would have left a mark on his back.

You sobbed into his neck while laughing, telling him that you missed him and that you couldn't believe he was really there.

When you finally let go, you pulled away, both of you still holding each other at arm’s length.

“You-”

“I-” Peter began.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sorry- you go first!”

Peter laughed, shaking you while he spoke. “Has it really been five years? Dr. Strange- do you know Dr. Strange? Anyway- not important- Dr. Strange said that it’s been five years and then he did the swirly thing and now we’re here and-”

You smiled as you listened to his speech, Peter talking about what had happened when he came back after five years away, sprinkled with questions like “Was the last Star Wars movie good? I can't believe I missed the last Star Wars movie!” and “Are there flying cars now? Sorry, that’s dumb. Who needs flying cars?”. When he finally took a breath, you cut into the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s really been five years, Pete.” You laughed. “You look... older.”

“Do I really?” He asked excitedly. “How much older?”

You quirked your eyebrows at him. This was Peter alright.

“Five years older, bud.”

“Oh... yeah.” He chuckled scratching the back of his neck. “Y- you look older too... in a good way! You also have um dirt all over your face, but uh... you always... look good.”

You smiled and even after all this time you could feel yourself become flustered by his compliment. You really were his.

“Thanks.” You said. “The uh... the Compound kind of fell on me so...”

“Wait what-”

Before Peter could ask you more about you surviving a building collapsing on you, the two of you watched as T’Challa ran through the battlefield, the gauntlet in his grasp. Snapping back into the moment, you let go of Peter. As he tapped the side of his neck, the mask covering his face again, you knew what he was about to do.

“Be safe!” You shouted.

Without a word you watched as Peter shot a web that flew right by you. When you spun around you watched as one of the warriors fell to the ground, held down by the web- a blade still in his hand.

“You first!” He called before swinging away.

The moment he left, you snapped back into action, taking out warriors left and right, moving on to help others when you cleared your area.

Your bones were beginning to ache, feeling the weight of not only the building that had fallen on top of you earlier, but also your relentless swinging and fighting to not only protect yourself, but humanity. The weight of the world felt as if it was on your shoulders and no matter how sore you were- you wouldn’t stop until it was over- for better or worse.

When the beams started raining down from the large ship overhead, you fell to the ground, concealing yourself within a forcefield in just enough time to protect yourself before one rained down right above you. The impact of it hitting the ground shook the earth beneath you and you could see nothing but the golden glow of the forcefield surrounding you and dirt exploding from the ground around you.

You pulled your knees into your chest and wrapped your arms around your head to shield yourself despite the forcefield surrounding you.

“See you in a minute?” You asked.

“See you in a minute.” She smiled.

For the first time since you woke up under the pile of concrete, you could feel your chest tightening and a ball form in your throat as tears were threatening to spill over.

You thought of Natasha, the woman who mentored you for the past five years, and how she sacrificed herself for all of these people to have their lives back. She died for the cause and as you sat there with beams exploding around you, you prayed that it wasn’t all for nothing- that you would all win, that people would get to hug their family members again and that you might even get to tell Peter about how you felt.

Peter. Realizing now that you would have died if not for your powers, you wished that Peter was safe carrying the gauntlet across the field. You couldn’t bare to lose him twice just when you had been given your second chance.

When you felt the ground stop shaking under you, you unraveled yourself, looking up to see that the raining beams had stopped. Removing your forcefield, you watched as the spaceship fell out of the sky.

Being given your second chance, you used your powers, picking up large pieces of the former Avenger’s Compound building, hurling them at large groups of Thanos’ warriors, crushing them instantly. In the distance you could see Thanos, Steve, Tony and Carol Danvers scrambling for the gauntlet.

As you went to make your way towards them, however, you felt a hand wrap around your neck and pull you back. Being thrown to the ground, the warrior fell on top of you, his knife attempting to make its way into your chest. You kicked your legs towards his torso, grunting as you grabbed his wrist, using all of your strength to keep the blade centimeters away from piercing itself into your skin.

Right when you were accepting your fate, growing exhausted from not just today’s, but years worth of fighting, you watched as a look of horror flashed across the warrior’s face and in a second he turned to dust in your grasp.

Pushing yourself up and off the ground, wiping the remnants of ash off of you, you spun around and watched as Thano’s army faded away to dust, facing the same horror that billions did on that one day five years ago. You could finally allow yourself to breathe a sigh of relief as they disappeared across the battlefield, slowly turning to ash.

When you looked back towards where Thanos stood seconds before, you ran over, nearly tripping over all of the objects in your path.

When you finally made your way over, recognizing Peter immediately from behind, you followed his line of sight to Tony who was sitting up almost motionless on the ground.

You observed the way his arm was mangled up to the side of his face, similar to Banner’s earlier when he snapped half of humanity back into existence. You knew, however, that Tony wouldn’t be able to survive the same fate.

As Pepper placed her hands on Peter’s shoulders moving him to the side, you rushed to him, wrapping Peter in your arms as you held his head against your chest. As soon as he made contact with you, you could feel him tightly squeezing around your torso, crying into the fabric of your suit.

You hushed him, watching as Tony’s hand fell from Pepper’s one last time. You could feel your heart breaking in your chest over all that you had lost, but knowing in the end that you had won.

The proof of victory, although costly, was evident to you by the crying man in your arms.

A week later when the memorial was held at Tony’s house, you saw Peter again for the first time since the day he had come back. You gave him space, understanding that coming back after disappearing for five years and losing your mentor was difficult to cope with.

After watching the last remanent of Tony Stark float across the lake, Peter found you standing to the side. When you heard a branch snap from a few feet behind you, you jumped, turning around only to be met with Peter’s face.

“Hey.” You smiled.

“H-hey, Y/n.”

“How are you feeling?” You asked him, leaning against the nearby tree.

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Well... May and I found someplace to stay and all of our stuff so... that’s good.”

You smiled. “That’s-”

“I heard about Black Widow.” He cut you off, fiddling with the cufflinks on the sleeve of his jacket. “About... about how she trained you all this time and stuff.” He finally looked up at you and met your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You shrugged, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry in front of him. You knew that to him five years ago felt like yesterday- that he couldn’t understand how your life changed in the past five years. Regardless, it meant a lot that he cared enough to check on you when there was so much else for him to worry about.

“It’s okay, Pete.” You sighed. “She... and Tony... they did everything it took to bring you guys back. That’s what mattered, you know? Whatever it took. Any of us would have done the same. It’s just... it’s just too bad that there wasn’t another way. I just wish that I could tell her that we won- that her sacrifice was worth it- that she saved the world.”

Peter nodded, taking a step closer to you, still fiddling with his sleeve.

“So you uh.. you think it was worth it then?” He asked.

You smiled, grabbing Peter’s hands to stop them from trembling and pulled him closer to you. “Of course it was worth it, Pete.” You said. “You’re standing right here in front of me again- of course it was worth it.”

Peter didn’t say anything back at first. Instead the two of you just gazed at each other, now leaning against the tree.

When he finally broke from your gaze, he shifted his eyes to stare at your hands in his.

“Do you still mean what you said?” He asked suddenly.

You know for him it had been a week, but for you it had been five years. What you had said could be any number of things, but you knew deep down what he was referring to.

When you didn’t answer, he answered your question for you.

“That- that you loved me?”

You looked up when he spoke. Pulling your hands out of his, you placed your hand against his face, nudging his chin up to look at you. You could see his eyes still bloodshot and the bags under his eyes puffy, no doubt from crying over the past week. Even when he looked like this, you couldn’t deny that he was the most the most beautiful thing you had ever had the honor of laying your eyes on.

“Yes.”

“As- as more than-” He began stumbling over his words before you cut him off.

“Yes, Peter.” You chuckled. “As more than friends.”

You could see a smile beginning to play on his lips as he searched your eyes for any hint of doubt.

“There wasn’t, uh, anybody else?” He asked. “Even after all this time?”

You shook your head, running your thumb along his cheek.

“Nope.” You smiled. “It’s always been you, spider boy.”

Despite the fact that he always used to argue when you called him “spider boy”, assuring you that he was a man and not a boy, he always loved the nickname you held for him, reminding him that he was more than just some superhero- that he was yours.

As soon as the words slipped out of your mouth he smiled and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you in for a kiss.

It was soft and gentle, just as you had always imagined it.

For the first time in a week, you smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. Despite everything that happened to you two that had worked to pull you apart you found each other again every time. No matter what happened, at the end of the day it was you and him and that’s all that mattered.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker drabble #Peter Parker blurb #mcu oneshot #mcu fanfiction #spiderman x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot

353 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 11 (NSFW)

Masterlist

IT’S THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR BESTIES! Thanks as always to @acollectionofficsandshit I think I broke her with this chapter! She also found the song for this chapter so special thanks for that as well ❤

Word Count: 7.6k

Recommended song: “The Man Who Can’t be Moved” by the Script

The steam of the shower cleanses your senses and washes away the sweat from your workout. Crisp September air rushes through the open window and raises goosebumps on your skin as you step out. You turn off the tap and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel in an attempt to ward off the chill. A glance at the clock tells you that you have a half hour to get ready before your date picks you up.

Peter was one of the few guys in your major that paid you any attention. Most of them tolerated you at best but it had never bothered you. You were independent enough that you could make it through class on your own and google what you didn’t understand afterward and learn it before the exam.

It had been fairly easy to fall in with Peter and a few others during the first few weeks of summer classes. What began with group study sessions and quickly developed into hanging out one on one with Peter on the weekends to go to coffee shops or play video games.

When Peter had asked you out two months ago, Pierre's voice nagged in the back of your head. He asked if you were ready to move on from him and if you could really forget him.

The simple answer was no, forgetting him was impossible. No matter how many years passed, he would always own a part of you.

Peter was sweet and he cared about you but you were quickly realizing the bond you shared with him didn't run as deep as it had with Pierre. He started as your friend and you really didn't feel right letting it develop past that. Although you had agreed to that date and plenty more in the time since, it still didn’t feel like a relationship. You had to stop yourself from imagining someone else's arm around you when you lounged on the sofa or someone else's lips kissing you goodnight.

You slip into a form fitting red cocktail dress and sweep your hair over a shoulder, banishing the memory. The person staring back at you in the mirror is a stranger, a ghost of who you once were. You pull your lips into a smile nowhere near as bright as it was months ago.

A knock on your apartment door startles you from your trance. Peter holds a bouquet of flowers, a broad grin on his face. He was handsome in a traditional sense, with a sharp jawline and playful forest green eyes that promised a good time. He was adventurous; a night in wasn’t in the cards. Everything was an event with him and you didn’t mind the distractions one bit.

"You look amazing as always," he says, stepping inside and kissing your cheek. You sniff the flowers lightly. Daisies were some of your least favorite flowers but the gesture was too sweet to point that out.

"So do you," you respond, gaze sweeping from his scuffed wingtip shoes to his crisp blue button down shirt. Ocean blue, washed out against Peter's pale skin, but would have looked perfect on Pierre's golden complexion.

You had to stop thinking about him. You saw him everywhere. On more than one occasion, you dropped out of a conversation when you caught a glimpse of blond hair bobbing through a crowd or heard a laugh startlingly similar to his. You couldn’t escape the idea of him whether you liked it or not.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks, touching your elbow.

God, you were so far from okay. Your mind was a melted mess of memories of a blond Frenchman and all the broken promises between the pair of you. This was pointless. You were wasting your time with Peter. He was great and should have been everything you wanted but he just wasn't enough.

"I'm so sorry," you start, handing back the flowers. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Oh thank god," he says, shoulders drooping as he runs a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking the same thing, I just didn't want to be the one to say it." You both laugh, the tension ebbing from your frame.

"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "You're amazing. There's just no…"

"Spark," you finish. "Yeah, I agree. Friends?"

You stick out your hand and he shakes it firmly. "Sounds like a plan. No hard feelings. See you in class on Monday?"

"I'll be there."

You slip out of your heels with a sigh, glad you don't have to endure that form of torture any longer. For the first time in months, you allow yourself to scroll through Pierre's Instagram.

Instead of being flooded with personal pictures it had become mostly posed shoots.it was the kind of thing that seemed staged, like he was only posted because his PR team deemed it necessary.

As time went on the content became more and more clinical. He was giving fans less of an insight into his personal life and focusing on racing content. You knew he had probably thrown everything he had into the season in an attempt to move on and you couldn't blame him.

If his Insta was to be believed, he had earned a handful of podiums in the four months since you had mostly lost interest in the sport. After Austin it had been nearly impossible to watch a full race and you had instead been getting your biased updates from Max, who conveniently left out all but the barest details of anyone’s race weekend but his own.

There was no point in trying to convince yourself you no longer felt anything for Pierre. Just scrolling through his page reignites the flame in your chest that had been burning far too dimly for far too long.

Heart pounding, you double tap a photoset of him modeling for Alpha Tauri, the lighting accenting his eyes. Their distinct, rich blue had always been your weakness.

Your fingers find their way to the charm at your throat. You hadn't taken it off once since the gala. It was pointless to deny the sway he still held over you all these months later. Maybe it was time you stopped pretending you were fine and finally give in to the pull.

The past few months have given you plenty of time to reflect. The media would hound you like dogs but at least while you were in London they would leave your family alone. And really, enduring their scrutiny was a small price to pay if it meant loving Pierre.

“I’m an idiot,” you mumble, pulling up his contact in your phone. Breaking up with him had been the dumbest decision of your life. You’d watched him from afar as he traveled from grand prix to grand prix, touring cities and sleeping everywhere except where he belonged: curled up next to you in your tiny London flat, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you both fell asleep.

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Fuck what anyone would say. Nothing could be worse than knowing your soulmate was out there and you let him go.

Heart pounding, you type out a text. I miss you.

Shaking your head, you erase it. How are you? Seemed more appropriate.

"Here goes nothing," you murmur and hit send.

**********

It started off as any other free Sunday did: Charles and Charlotte arriving at his apartment carrying snacks and beer which neither of them would tell their trainers about tomorrow and plopping in front of the television to watch the PSG match.

The trio roared at the screen at poor calls and yelled when a goal was scored, all completely lost in the sport.

Pierre absently registers his phone buzzing during the last few minutes of the match but ignores it. PSG comes out on top and he finally checks it, nearly choking on the pretzels he was eating.

How are you?

Pierre has to read it thrice before he’s convinced it’s real.

"Holy fuck," he says softly, tipping the phone so Charles can see.

"Told you mate." He takes Charlotte's hand and stands. Football match completely forgotten, Pierre lifts a hand in a wave as the couple leaves. His eyes are fixed on the screen as he tries to comprehend the gravity your words carry.

After months of waiting in agony and wondering if you still cared, you’d texted him.

He had no idea how he managed to keep his feet on the floor. He was completely weightless, reading your message over and over again until it sinks in.

He takes the three simple words as permission to finally delve back into your life, immediately scrolling through your instagram to catch up. He double taps every post save for the ones with you and some tall, handsome guy. His stomach twists.

Fuck it. Even if you just wanted to catch up, he'd take it. If you told him you were with someone else and you were happy, he'd learn to live with it. He was starved of you and was prepared to beg for crumbs of your life.

I'm fine. You have time for a phone call?

It was a leap but he acknowledged and accepted the risks.

Yeah. That would be good.

You pick up on the second ring.

"Hey."

Pierre squeezes his eyes shut, pushing back the lump in his throat. Years of memories rush over him in the space of a breath. The shock in your voice when you found out he was a driver for the first time. Your smile and breathless laugh when you met him in the garage in Brazil after his first podium in Formula 1. The tentative glances he had thrown your way for months after he finally accepted that he had begun to fall for you. The way your velvet lips felt when he made a gamble and kissed you for the first time. The drunken lilt of your voice when you told him you loved him that night in London.

Before he can stop it the bad comes rushing back too. The memory of the terror on your face when he let it slip that you were together sends a chill through him. If there was one moment he could change, it wouldn’t be the time he fucked up and lost his seat at Red Bull. It would be to keep his damned mouth shut at that karting track and preserve the bliss of that day and tuck it away in a bulletproof case that he could pull out and look at whenever he wanted.

"Hey you," he manages, silently thanking whoever is listening that he keeps the tremble out of his voice. "Been awhile."

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he says quickly. "You never need to apologize to me."

You were the last one that needed to apologize for anything. He should be the one beginning for forgiveness. It was his fault you’d panicked. He should have fought harder for you, proved that he could make it work and save you both from months of heartache. But then again, maybe you had moved on. He couldn’t expect you to wait for him forever.

He doesn’t realize he’s been silent for so long until you clear your throat. For the first time he can recall, the silence is thick and heavy with unspoken words. It had always been effortless, the stories and words flowing like a babbling brook between the two of you. Now the confessions on his tongue remain poised there, too terrified to give them the light of day.

"How's your season been?" He’s thankful you break the quiet first but the question makes his stomach sink.

"You haven't been watching?"

"Not really."

"Oh." It made sense that you would distance yourself from him and that was fine, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. "It's been decent. Red Bull wants me to come to Milton for contract discussions this week, actually."

"You're moving back up?"

"Potentially." Horner had only called him earlier that week to discuss the potential of him returning to Red Bull next year. The informal agreement was that if he could make seventh in the championship in a midfield car, they would bump him back for the following season.

It wasn’t a concrete guarantee- that’s why Horner wanted to speak with him in person. He had a year left in his contract and being in a Red Bull meant he would be able to prove his worth to other teams and potentially secure a world championship worthy seat at a team that actually appreciated his talent.

He draws a breath before continuing, "I'll be in London on Monday. You know- if you wanna get together."

You stay silent for a touch too long and he panics. It was too soon. He should have kept his mouth shut because now he’d driven you away again. “Nevermind, forget I said anything-"

"No," you interrupt, "no, I'd love to see you and catch up. I don't have classes on Tuesdays. Have any free time then?"

His eyes slide shut and he exhales. The flack he would undoubtedly catch for shuffling around a few interviews would be worth it to see you. "Yeah. I can swing by your apartment around seven?"

"Okay," you say, a touch of excitement lacing your voice. "I'll make myself presentable."

"I-" he stops himself before the words can slip past his lips. "I'll see you then."

*********

Pierre blows out a breath and adjusts his backpack. He stands at the threshold of your building, keys in hand, unsure if he should let himself in. The dilemma had kept him rooted to the spot for nearly ten minutes now, weighing the pros and cons of his options.

“Hey you, blond fucker.” Pierre whips around and is met by Daniel’s girlfriend glaring up at him from the sidewalk. She tips her head to the side to study him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one that had to cancel plans to be here tonight. “You gonna grow a pair and go up there or just keep staring at the door all day?”

“I’m going,” he grumbles, “are you?”

“Oh, I was going to but clearly whatever you have planned is more important.” Her grin splits her face ear to ear. “About damn time she got ahold of you. I was getting sick of listening to her gripe about you twenty four seven.”

“Didn’t she tell you I was coming by? If you guys have plans I can come back later.”

She waves a hand and dismisses the offer. “Absolutely not. Go get your girl.”

“She’s not-” The glare she cuts him snatches the words from his mouth. She makes a shooing motion before setting off down the sidewalk, munching on whatever snacks were in her shopping bag.

Pierre shakes out his hands and tries to gather the courage to use his key. The hopeless romantic argued that you would expect him to use it because you would know he still had it. The rational side of him butts in to point out that it might catch you off guard if he showed up without warning. He settles on buzzing your unit, your answer fuzzy from the distortion.

"Pierre?"

Even with the warbly static in your voice, his name on your lips is the salvation he’s been dreaming about for months. "Yeah it's me."

"Don't you have a key?"

"I wasn't sure if I should use it."

You don't answer, instead letting the buzz of the electronic lock do the talking. He takes the stairs three at a time, barely winded by the time he reaches the third floor. He doesn't even have to knock, your door swinging open as he steps up. The sight of you knocks the breath from his lungs.

It didn't matter that you were in a simple hoodie and jeans, feet bare and hair swept back in a low bun. You are the most beautiful person he's ever seen and after months apart he nearly falls to his knees then and there to beg for your forgiveness, to get lost in you until two souls became one and he never had to live another second apart from you.

"Are you gonna stand there or do you wanna come in?"

God, he had missed your teasing jabs. His fingers ache for contact with your soft skin and he curls them into a fist to resist the urge. “Coming in,” he says softly, purposefully brushing your arm as he skirts past you. Every inch of him sings from the barely there touch, his soul aching for more.

Just stepping foot into your quaint flat has the weight he had been carrying on his chest for months beginning to ease up. Nothing beat the elation of being back where he belonged, not even spraying champagne from the top step on a podium.

Determined not to scare you off before he could have a proper conversation with you, Pierre opts for falling into the same humor you had used earlier. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. "Is that takeout I smell?"

You nod, your cheeks turning a pale pink. “I got you two orders of beef lo mein. I figured you might be hungry.”

As if summoned, his stomach growls. “Yeah. I haven’t eaten since breakfast."

“Figures,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief as you settle into the plush carpet and pull a takeout box towards you. "I got it from that place across town, the one you liked best." Pierre perches on the edge of the sofa and snags the plastic tray with his name on it, eyes never leaving yours.

Now that you were mere feet from him he found it increasingly difficult to deny himself the relief of kissing you here and now. He wanted to trace his thumb over your lips before replacing it with his own, to slot his mouth over yours until time was nothing and he was no one other than yours.

You clear your throat and drop his gaze first, sending him crashing back to reality. “So, ninth huh? Glad to see you cracked the top ten.”

Pierre scrunches his nose and spears a piece of broccoli. He was shit with chopsticks but you always got a kick out of him fumbling with them. “Not where I’d like to be but I’ll take it. Horner took notice obviously, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I think an invitation to Milton Keynes is enough reason to hope," you say around a mouthful of sticky rice.

This interaction was reason to hope. The fact that you were once again on speaking terms, that things were finally returning to some semblance of normal, was enough for him to believe that one day everything would be back to how it was before. That maybe, just maybe, he could hold you in his arms again and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your heart beating in his ear.

Remembering the guy from your instagram, he scans the room for any sign of a male companion. Finding none, he asks, “How’s your boyfriend?”

It probably would have been a good idea to go about this particular line of questioning with a bit more tact. Inquiring so blatantly betrayed his inner thoughts, laid all his cards on the table. He didn't have it in him to care, not when his world might be turned upside down by your answer.

“Oh, you mean Peter?” You sip your water, seemingly working up the courage to explain. Each moment that the silence dragged on it became more of a physical monster. Pierre could feel it growing until it threatened to sink his claws in him and drag him deeper into the pits of his insecurity.

“If that’s his name, yeah.” Pierre braces himself for whatever comes next, reminding himself to be happy for you no matter what you choose. It would take time but he could put aside what he still felt for you and learn to accept your choice if it meant staying in your life.

You shake your head. “He’s a friend from uni. He’s not my boyfriend. At least not anymore.”

“Oh,” he says, frowning down at his food to cover the way his heart skips. “But he was?”

He had expected you to move on, if he was being honest. No way in hell did you deserve to be as miserable as he had been since you'd left- you deserved all the happiness he couldn't seem to give you and more. And if someone else had been the one to grant you that happiness, he should thank them.

“For a little while,” you say softly, like it would cushion the blow. “It didn’t feel right.”

He was familiar with that feeling. Nothing he did felt right after the break up. Just about the only thing that kept him sane was telling himself that you’d come to your senses sooner or later.

And now that he was here, his world was beginning to right itself.

“Earth to Pierre,” you say teasingly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I just- I’ve missed this,” he says, picking at his food.

“What, eating subpar takeout in my tiny apartment?” You laugh and stuff another bite in your mouth. God, you could be so oblivious. It was one of the many things he adored about you.

“I do. I miss doing anything that involves you, actually.”

There it was. His heart laid bare before you for the second time, waiting to see how you would respond. You set down your chopsticks and wipe your lips. His eyes track their movement as you whisper, “I’ve missed you too.”

Four syllables and he melts. It takes all he has to keep himself from sobbing with relief. It was everything he had come here hoping to hear. He couldn’t endure this again, couldn’t lose you for a second time-

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he pleads, body thrumming with the need to wrap you in his arms. “Don’t put me through this again unless you’re here to stay.”

He wasn't strong enough to tell you to stop. He would let you wreck him and he would be completely powerless to stop it. He would welcome it if it meant you granting him a sliver of your time. It would ruin him for anyone else but he didn’t have it in him to turn you away.

You rise to your feet and pad around the low table until you’re standing knee to knee, his neck craned up to study your face. You just keep looking at him, the leash on his carefully controlled restraint slipping as he rambles, “Because I can’t take it if you leave me again, I won’t-”

You simply nod, as if that’s all the answer he should need. But it’s not enough. “Tell me,” he pleads. “Tell me you mean it.”

He didn’t care that he was begging. He didn’t care that you had reduced his normally impenetrably stoic mentality to a jumble of you. If he was being honest with himself, you were the light of his life, the reason he pushed so hard for results on track. Everything had gone black and white when you left and racing had been the only thing keeping him from falling apart at the seams. The need to make you proud still propelled him forward even if he'd had no idea if you still cared.

So no, he didn’t care at all that he was practically on his knees. He would grovel at your feet for his entire life if it meant you’d grant him one more day to be with you.

“I mean it,” you murmur and place a hand on his cheek. He draws a shaky breath, leaning into you. Home, home, home, his head screams, acutely aware of every square inch of contact between the two of you.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I’ve finally come to terms with it- your lifestyle. If I love you, I have to accept it being public. I have to build myself a shelter to withstand the storm, but I’ll make it big enough for two.”

It takes everything in him to keep from crushing you to his chest and never letting go. He had to ask, had to be certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was forever. “Promise me you won’t leave again if things get hard. Promise me we’ll get through whatever they throw at us together.”

“I promise. I’m not afraid anymore,” you murmur. Pierre’s head falls forward to rest on your hip bone, your fingers threading in his hair. “Daniel’s girlfriend helped me see that it doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I haven't been the same since I…”

“Neither have I.” His thumb winds under your shirt to sweep over your soft skin. “You’re safe with me, you know that right? I can protect you from whatever they say and you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is this-” he finally lets himself look up at you- “what we have. I’ve never stopped loving you, not once.”

Your smile is soft and tentative as you climb into his lap. His hands slide up your sides to pull you closer, refusing to let an inch separate you now that you’d bridged the gap. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I learned my lesson.”

You lean down to ghost your lips over his brow, his closed eyelids, his nose. He can feel himself reconstructing under your touch, that final piece of the puzzle clicking home after being lost for so long. “I promise that I’m yours until the last star falls from the sky.”

He had lost four months of time with you. He wouldn't allow another second to slip through his fingers.

Anticipating his movements, you meet him halfway. Fireworks explode as his lips finally return home and his world is finally, finally righted. Your nails scratch lightly at the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer as your body moulds against his. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly your curves fit against him after all this time. He was determined to memorize every mountain and valley of you by the night's end.

His hands grip your thighs and he stands. Your arms automatically wind around his neck to keep from falling. He carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the edge of the island, never breaking the kiss. Nothing mattered outside of this apartment; not his career, not any baseless gossip, nothing existed beyond the space where your skin met his.

Pierre pulls back long enough to remove his shirt. Your fingers dance over his skin, relearning the planes of his chest like you had all the time in the world. And you did; he would stay here as long as you let him, reveling in the way you drank up every inch of his body like it was the first time you’d seen it.

“I love you,” you say as he kisses along your jaw.

How many times had he dreamt of you whispering that to him the past four months? How many times had it echoed in his head before a race, taunting him? He could scarcely believe his mind wasn’t playing more tricks on him now. He had to be certain it was real.

“Say it again,” he breathes. “Please. Please, tell me again.”

“I love you,” you repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I love you Pierre, my champion, my heart, my everything.”

Pierre groans against your mouth, knotting his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back to expose your throat. He nips at the soft skin, not caring that he was leaving a trail of tiny marks in his wake. His focus was entirely on the gasps he was dragging from you with each touch, your heels digging into his ass and begging for him to be closer.

"My sweet, kindhearted man," you continue breathlessly. He didn't know if the words were for your benefit or his. "My best friend. My one and only love."

In that moment, you could ask him to bring you a star from the midnight sky and he wouldn't stop until he found a way to make it happen. You could ask for his last dollar and he would hand it to you with a smile on his face, completely enthralled with the way his name sounds on your tongue, professing that you still wanted him as much as he wanted you.

You were his undoing.

“Off,” he growls, tugging at your sweatshirt. You obey instantly and fling it aside, neither of you caring when dishes clatter to the tile floor and undoubtedly break. Your jeans follow suit after he helps you slip out of them. He runs his fingers over the delicate black lace of your bra and panties and pauses to appreciate that you knew exactly where the night would lead.

His cock twitches as you reach between your bodies to run a knuckle over his clothed length. “Your turn.” You undo the button with practiced ease, taking your sweet time as his breath comes in ragged gasps. He’d had a taste of you and hadn’t forgotten how you’d felt around him. He needed you more than he needed the air he breathed, his desperation taking over as he swats your hand aside and strips off his jeans and boxers himself.

He drops to his knees and grips your thighs, pulling you forward until your center is inches from his face. The yelp that escapes you is intoxicating, your hands flying back to catch yourself. His teeth sink none too gently into the flesh of your thigh and he’s rewarded with a moan before he flicks his tongue over the hurt.

Your head falls back and Pierre places one of your legs over his shoulder. “Mon amour,” he purrs, garnering your attention. Your head lolls forward and he waits until you meet his gaze to speak again. “You know I love you, right?”

“I never doubted it,” you confirm, lips curling in a smile. “But why don’t you prove it to me again?”

He pulls your panties aside and blows lightly. You groan, thighs tensing under his fingers as your toes curl and he chuckles. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Do you really want to tease me?”

“What I want,” he says sharply, “is to have you moaning my name until it's the only word you know.” His tongue flicks out to dance over your thigh, dangerously close to where he knows you want him. “What I want is to make up for lost time.” He rips through the thin lace of your panties and lets the ruined scraps fall to the floor.

“Those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

He would buy you an entire lingerie store if he could rip every set of it off you. He didn’t care how much it costed, it was never too much when it came to you.

“What I want most, my love,” he murmurs, smiling when his hot breath curls over your dripping cunt and you squirm, “is to forget everything else and stay here forever.”

You cry out when his tongue finally flicks through your folds. Pierre hums approvingly at your reaction, one arm snaking up to pin your hips in place. He sucks lightly at your clit and your fingers tangle in his hair.

“P-Pierre,” you breathe. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, the wickedness of it dragging the moan from your lips that he was after. He was drunk on the sound, desperate to hear it again and again.

“There’s my good girl.” He runs his tongue flat over your sex, savoring the taste as you squirm under him. You let out a choked noise when he repeats the motion before fucking you with his tongue, his nose hitting your clit with each stroke.

He doesn’t miss the way your lip wobbles and Pierre knows you’re ready to cry with frustration. He decides he’s tortured you enough for now and relents, putting two fingers in his mouth to wet them before plunging them inside you.

His mouth is spelling his name on your clit a moment later, your walls already clamping down on his fingers as your orgasm nears. In the handful of times he’d taken you to bed, he had already learned that when your head rolls back like that and your breathing stops, you’re seconds away from climaxing. He doesn’t let up until you’re shaking beneath him, finally slowing to work you through your orgasm without making you hypersensitive.

“Baby,” you groan breathlessly. Pierre slowly withdraws his fingers and wipes them on his thigh before pressing a final, tender kiss to your center that makes you jump.

“Use my name,” he demands, uncoiling to his full height. He grips your wrist and hauls your boneless body up, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Pierre,” you murmur and he grinds his hips against you in approval. He captures your mouth with his, taking advantage of your hazy mind to lazily explore it.

You hum into the kiss, managing to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Suddenly the column of your neck is all he can think about and he wraps a hand around it, squeezing with enough force that you pull back with a gasp.

“Too much?” He murmurs, lessening his grip. Your brows knit together and your lower lips juts out, begging for him to take it between his teeth. He leans in and gives in to the impulse as he swipes his thumb under your jaw.

“Tell me if you want my hand on your throat, my love. I need to hear you say it.”

“Please,” you say finally. Your eyes are cloudy when they meet his. “Keep it there.”

He shows his approval in the form of a light squeeze. You angle your hips up, nudging his cock with your center. You reach a hand down to wrap around his shaft and drag the head through your folds, teasing him as he had done to you. The grip on your throat tightens to a point bordering blissfully between pain and pleasure, both a warning and an order to continue.

If you knew how close he was to flipping you on your stomach and slamming into you, you’d call him crazy. Or maybe you’d like it, judging by the way your head falls back as he rocks his hips and inches into you.

You both moan when he decides the time for restraint has passed and he slams into you. You lift your hips to meet his with every thrust, clearly missing this just as much as he had. God, he’d lost months of fucking you, of feeling you clench around him and writhe beneath him. If he could stay like this forever he would, his hand around your neck and cock splitting you open as he laps up your moans like sweet candy.

“I’m- Pierre,” you squeak out, and he knows you’re barreling towards your second orgasm of the night. He pulls you up by your neck until you’re eye to eye and forced to look at him.

“Come for me,” he whispers, slamming into you again and again. “Come on my cock mon amour and I might just cum inside you.”

His words are your undoing, pleasure rippling from you in waves as your mouth falls open in a silent plea. He grants you no clemency as your cunt twitches around him, instead following through on his promise and following your lead.

You pants mix with his own as he struggles to keep both of you upright, his knees turned to jelly. Your head rests on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your temple, slowly pulling out of you. A pitiful whimper escapes your throat involuntarily.

“I know,” Pierre murmurs, reaching over to start the kitchen sink. He wets a clean cloth and runs it between your legs, still supporting you as he doesn’t trust that your legs won't give out if he doesn’t. When it’s clear you can barely form a coherent thought, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to your room. He nudges the bathroom door open with his hip and sets you on the vanity.

The absence of his body heat makes you shiver when he goes to turn on the shower, adjusting the knobs until he’s satisfied with the temperature. He gathers you in his arms and steps into the tub, your sigh audible as the warm water hits your skin.

“Can you stand?” he murmurs before kissing your temple. You nod against his chest and he sets you down, keeping his hands on your waist just in case. You’re thankful for it when your knees wobble, a hand flying out to steady yourself.

“I’m okay,” you say after a beat and grin up at him. “I can stand, promise.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m taking my hands off you,” he says, grinning right back. “At least not for long.” He reaches over your shoulder for the shampoo and gestures for you to turn around. You obey, tipping your head back to wet your hair. A blissful sigh escapes you when his fingers meet your scalp, the cherry blossom scent blooming in the air as he works it into a lather.

Taking care of you was just as satisfying as the sex was. He cherished the intimacy of taking this small burden from your shoulders. The seemingly simple task was one of deep seated trust and it proved to him that your love ran bone deep. There was a level of trust in you letting him wash you that he didn't want to have with anyone else. It was reserved for you and you alone.

“Close your eyes,” he warns before guiding your head back under the water for a rinse. He cups a hand to your forehead to keep the soap from your eyes. Your smile is soft but unrestrained as you lean further into him until your back is pressed to his chest.

You both stay silent as he runs the creamy conditioner through the ends of your hair. His hand cups your jaw and tips your head back for a lazy kiss before he rinses that too and cuts the tap.

Once you're wrapped in a fuzzy white towel he finally dries himself off, fighting off a chill. He doesn't realize you're watching him until he turns around and notices you standing in the doorway.

"What?"

You push off the wall and pad back to where he stands to wrap your arms around his middle. His thumb traces patterns on your shoulder, perfectly content to stand there dripping on the tile until morning.

When it's clear you're lost in thought he speaks up. "What's on your mind?"

"When did you know you loved me?"

"Like the exact moment?" He asks, caught off guard. You nod against his chest.

"When you visited me in Milan last summer," he says a few heartbeats later. That night insisted on making guacamole at two in the morning and woke me up because you couldn't find a lime. You told me you couldn't sleep because it was all you could think about after you saw that couple at the cafe eating it."

"Why then?"

"Because I knew I didn't have a lime but I was fully prepared to knock on every door in the building to find you one. Because in that moment all that mattered was seeing your face light up when I handed it to you and knowing that it was me that made you smile like that. I knew then that I’d do anything for you."

It still amazed him how a lime of all things was the tipping point. In that moment, a lime was important to you and it so naturally became important to him. If anyone else had woken him from his deep sleep he would have grumbled and told them off. But you, seeing your face inches from his, the light from the hall casting a warm halo around your frame as you whispered his name, he hadn’t cared at all.

"But then I found the juice in the fridge," you recall and glance up at him.

"Yeah, you did. And you felt so bad for waking me up- you had no idea that I had already fallen so hard that I had to keep myself from shutting you up with a kiss.”

The easy admission seems to stir something in you and you rise up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “I knew that time you sent food to my dorm at midnight when I was pulling an all nighter. I was studying for my calculus final, remember?”

Pierre nods. “I was in Barcelona. You weren’t answering your phone so I sent a message with the takeout guy.” He had been wholly enamored with you at that point, having quickly learned that trying to keep his feelings buried deep was an option that would never work. So he leaned into it, letting little bits of it shine through in hopes that you might pick up on it.

Your laugh rumbles through him. “It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too nervous.”

“Took us long enough to figure it out didn’t it?” He untangles himself from you and leads you to bed.

“I’m just glad we did eventually.” You let him guide you to the mattress while he stays standing and goes to your closet. He hunts for the shirt he wants to see you in, praying you hadn’t gotten rid of it. He finally finds it tucked back in the corner and pulls it out, the cobalt blue fabric a little faded from how often you’d worn it over the years.

“I remember that,” you say softly as he returns with it and slips it over your head.

It was the first shirt he had ever gotten upon entering Formula 1 and somehow you had wound up snagging it from his closet while he cleaned up the mess in the kitchen during that same trip to Milan. He had choked on his guac when you reappeared wearing it, eyes lingering on the Torro Rosso logo on the chest and his name splayed across your back like a claiming.

"I don't have sweatpants for you anymore," you point out with an apologetic wince. "I got rid of them."

Pierre just shrugs and hands you the shirt. "I have a change of clothes in my backpack. I was planning on working out to blow off some steam if…"

He trails off and you nod in silent acknowledgement. He didn’t have to voice the thought, you were already in his head and knew exactly what he meant. Unable to help himself, he kisses your head just because he can before retrieving his bag from the kitchen. "I have something for you," he says and lets the towel around his waist drop.

You let out a low whistle and grin at him as your eyes slide over every inch of his body. He takes more time than necessary to pull out his shorts, appreciating your gaze. You're still watching him as he slips them on and brings his bag to you.

"Do you wanna see what I got you or are you gonna stare at me all night?"

"I think I'll stare."

Pierre rolls his eyes and chuckles, plopping down next to you. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

You do as he asks but not before cocking a brow at him. Knowing the sound of the package will give it away, he does his best to draw out the first item as quietly as he can. The second he sets it in your hands a smile splits your face. He'd tear down the energy station with his bare hands to keep that expression on your face.

"It's candy." Your eyes open and you gasp. "Laffy taffy? But you can only get this-"

"In the states," He finishes. “I got as much as the store had.” The chewy, fruity candy was your absolute favorite and every once in a while you craved it. His backpack was currently stuffed full of it and various other packages of sweets, having been collected at every gp he had been to since Austin.

You tear into the package and dig for a pink one. You hold it out to him triumphantly and somehow, it’s that simple gesture that makes him melt. “You like the strawberry ones don’t you?”

“Yes baby, I do.” He lets you pop the sweet in his mouth - Pyry would certainly not approve- and grins at you. “If you eat too many before bed you won’t be able to sleep.”

“It’s still early,” you point out but don’t hesitate to set the sweets aside and cuddle up to him when he lays back. “Got somewhere to be?”

“I have to be at Milton by eight,” he says, wrapping an arm around your middle. “But you’re coming with me.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo

If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #my writing #pierre gasly imagine #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf #formula 1 rpf

173 notes · View notes

siriuslyshewrote · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Boy - James Potter

A/N: aptly titled because yes, we all believe that James Potter is the most beautiful boy.

Requested? : yes

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : James Potter fluff. What else could we possibly want?

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was something that could never be described as dull. Every moment spent in it was a blur of heightened emotions, whether they be good and bad, and there was never a day that went by without chaos. In comparison, your summers were positively dull.

As much as you loved the castle, you loved the people even more, your housemates and classmates, in particularly the close circle of friends you had woven together over your seven years in Hogwarts. Lily , Mary and Marlene took precedent as your closest girl friends, the ones with which every night in the dormitories was a sleepover, toasting your feet agains the little log burner, listening to the latest muggle records, and laughing your heads off. Sirius and Remus and Peter were brilliant boys, and you loved them deeply, too. James always said you loved too deeply.

It was he that you loved the most, that messy haired bespectacled boy with the crooked , previously broken nose and lopsided grin. With his warm hands and suffocating hugs and intoxicating presence. James knew you more than anyone, and had been a constant in your life since the two of you were tiny children, growing up living on the same street. He above anyone knew each one of your deepest and darkest secrets, your most mortifying memories, and embarrassing crushes. All but one, of course.

The crackling embers of the fire, and the quiet, exhausted chatter of the group around you soothed you, as you finally gave up on your Transfiguration essay, and dropped both it and your quill onto one of the many rugs that littered the floor of the common room. Music, from someone or others record player, played Bowie in the background.

"Tired?"

James grinned from beside you, his head lolling on the back of the sofa. He, too, had given up on his essay, by this time. You had no idea how he wasn't asleep already - he got up at the crack of dawn every single morning to play Quidditch, and still had the exuberant energy of a golden retriever.

You nodded , barely suppressing a yawn as you stretched out on the sofa the both of you were sharing, laying your head into his lap, wearily watching the animated conversation between Marlene and Sirius about something or other. Knowing Sirius and Marlene, she was trying to point out the flaws in another one of his crazily thought out schemes. Remus, too, was watching the pair with a secret smile upon his face - his eyes straying more to Sirius than anyone else, over the top of his book.

Mary was already asleep, curled up in a velvet armchair like a cat, her limbs tucked underneath her as she snored gently.

Your eyelashes drooped, brushing against your cheek, as your eyes closed against your protest. N.E.W.T's, you had very quickly discovered during your first few week back at school for seventh year, were living up to their name this year. They truly were exhausting.

Fingers combed through your hair, with a gentle clumsiness that you would recognise even if your head was currently not in his lap.

"What're you doing?" You mumbled sleepily, too tired to open your eyes, poking at his knee with your finger.

"Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair." He whispered, continuing with his mission.

You hoped that he was too concerned with your hair to see the smile that tugged on your lips at his words. James often devised these projects, randomly wanting to learn to do things until he achieved his goal. You had become his subject over the past few weeks as he attempted to learn how to braid, and had, several times walked back into the dormitory to the girls cackles at your newest hairstyle. James had the energy and will to do anything he wanted ... though perhaps styling hair was not his vocation. Really, Lily had told you, you only needed to look at his own hair to see that.

You didn't mind his newest project, and as you let him braid your hair by the fireplace, you desperately tried to pretend that it wasn't because him being so close made your heart beat a fierce drum against your ribs.

After a few minutes of quiet between the two of you, there was a lull in the conversation that you noticed even with your eyes closed in half sleep.

"Merlin, Prongs, could you be any more obvious?" Sirius' voice came from near the fire, a grin in his tone.

James fingers continued their work in your hair as he talked back to his friend.

"What?"

"That you are completely enamoured with our deer Y/N?" Even without looking at him, you could tell that Sirius was very pleased with his very much overused pun.

James tensed. Your breathing quickened slightly, though you didn't open your eyes.

Secretly, you wanted to hear what he would say.

"Piss off, Pads." He mumbled.

"It is quite obvious." Lily added in.

"Just a bit." Remus bit back the grin in his voice at his friends obvious discomfort.

"For fucks sake, guys!" James hissed quietly, clearly under the impression that you were asleep. "We are not dating."

"If you grew some balls, you would be." Sirius spoke, with murmurs of agreement from the others, apart from Mary, who you could still hear snoring.

James was quiet, for a moment.

"You'll have to tell her at some point, before someone else does." Lily spoke wisely. "Her and Amos are getting rather close, don't you think?"

James let out a scoff that was both a little defensive and a little bit worried.

"Y/N would never date that Hufflepuff."

"So you do admit that you like her?" Lily said triumphantly.

"Love her, more like." Sirius chipped in.

James' fingers were weaving once again in your hair, though perhaps a little bit less gentle than before.

"Just leave it." His tone indicated that he no longer wanted to discuss it, and the rest of the Gryffindor's clearly picked upon the tense tone he had adopted, because the conversation shifted quickly after that.

Though you desperately wanted to mull over what had just been said, you felt the pull of sleep drag you into unconsciousness. ————— "Love."

A gentle voice awoke you, with a slight shake of your shoulders. Blearily, you blinked, opening your eyes to the Common Room, which was much lighter than it had been when you closed your eyes. The fire had died in the fireplace, leaving only a few embers behind.

"Mmm?" You replied, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You realised that you were still lying in James' lap, and a small flush crept up your cheeks.

"I've got to go to Quidditch practice. We’ve got the match this morning.” He said quietly, giving you a sorry look.

"Have you slept down here all night?" You questioned, sitting up and stretching, feeling your bones pop and crack after your slightly uncomfortable sleeping position.

He shrugged, standing up with a stretch, his jumper pulling up and exposing a sliver of his tanned stomach. He ruffled his hair, trying to rid his bed head.

"You were asleep. I couldn't wake you, you'd probably kill me." A ghost of a grin flickered onto his face.

"Sorry." You yawned, holding out a hand for him to pull your off the sofa. He obliged.

"I've really gotta go." He said regretfully, brushing his lips against your forehead in a typical James gesture.

"Love you, Prongsie." You spoke sleepily, making to go up the stairs of your dorm to get a few hours more sleep.

"Yeah... Love you too." His speech sounded almost painful to him, but you were too tired to register it.

In fact, you were too tired to even remember the conversation you had heard the previous night until you reached the top of the stairs, and by that time, James was gone.

#James potter #James Potter x reader #James Potter imagine #James potter fanfiction #James potter fanfic #James Potter oneshot #maruaders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders era imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter imagines #Harry Potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fandom

274 notes · View notes

hxlyhead-harpies · 3 years

Text

Shining Just For You (S.B.)

Summary: You had never had much luck with boys, coming to the conclusion that you were no one’s type. But you certainly were not Sirius Black’s type.

Song of the Fic: Mirror Ball by Taylor Swift

I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Insecurity, alcohol use, cursing, mentions of vomit and food

A/n: hello everyone! this is the longest thing i’ve written so i hope you all enjoy it! i really enjoyed writing it!!

The early December sun danced across the pages of your book as you read, situated by the largest window in the library. It was an early morning on a Saturday as you studied, pouring over your history of magic textbook. You loved the library at this time of day. The golden beams of the post dusk sun filled the room and the hum of silence engulfed you. And there was never anyone around to bother you.

Except for today of course.

“Hello there Ms. (L/n),” a voice said as the seat across from you became occupied. You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed with the boy who had graced your presence.

“Hello, Black,” you said, looking up to meet eyes with Sirius. He leaned back and propped his feet up on the table, sending you one of his signature smirks. You gasped before slapping at his legs.

“Feet off the table,” you whispered harshly. Sirius let out a chuckle.

“Only if you come to the quidditch match today,” he stated, making you freeze.

“There’s a quidditch match today?” you asked quietly. You felt incredibly guilty. You had promised your cousin James that you would try to come to at least one of his matches this year since you had missed every match in your sixth year. Sirius scoffed at you.

“Of course there’s a match today. I’m surprised you’ve forgotten since it’s all that James has talked about all week,” he said with a chuckle. You began to gather your things.

“I’ve learned to tune him out,” you explained, earning a laugh from Sirius. You tried not to let your cheeks heat up too much at the noise, proud that you were able to elicit that kind of response from him.

“Why are you here anyway?” he asked, gesturing to your pile of books, “It’s a Saturday.” You continue to shove your things into your satchel.

“I always study on Saturday mornings,” you responded. Sirius sighed.

“You’re so weird. I can’t believe you’d spend a Saturday studying,” he said. You turned to look at him.

“Some of us actually have to work to get good grades,” you said with a slight hint of defensiveness. Sirius smiled at you.

“Well some of us prefer to have fun instead of being painfully boring,” he responded with a chuckle. The comment stung but you masked it with a half-hearted laugh. You knew that you and Sirius did not have the same definition of fun, but it still hurt that he would call you boring. You made a move to leave and Sirius followed you.

“Now, you do know how to get to the quidditch pitch don’t you?” he said teasingly. You shoved his shoulder.

“Of course I do you prat,” you replied. Sirius threw his hand up in surrender.

“Hey I’m just checking,” he laughed lightly. When you arrive at the common room you turn to head up the girl’s staircase.

“I’ll save you a seat,” Sirius called after you, causing you to flush darkly.

“Thank you,” you shouted over your shoulder, refusing to face him in case he saw how flustered he made you. Sirius had always had the ability to turn you into a blushing mess ever since the moment you met him. It had been your first year when he stumbled into the compartment you shared with James, asking if he could sit with you. Even at eleven, when his stormy grey eyes met yours, you knew that he’d be all you thought of for years. And as you grew, your feelings for the boy only grew as well. Every moment alone in the common room and as potions partners were ingrained in your mind, replayed every night as you fell asleep. But despite your intense feelings for Sirius, he never seemed to see you as anything more than a friend, continuing to hook up with his string of gorgeous girls. The kind of girls that you wished you looked like when you gazed into your mirror. They were all undeniably beautiful, with gorgeous flowing hair and flawless skin. Their long and nimble fingers grazing his arms when they passed him in the hallways. They were quite the opposite of you, comfortable in their own bodies and confident. They were everything that you wished that you were.

You had never had much luck with boys, coming to the conclusion that you were no one’s type. But you certainly were not Sirius Black’s type.

You bustled up the stairs to your room, pushing open the door and dropping your bag by your bed. Lily looked up from her spot by the mirror, her mascara wand frozen mid-air.

“Oh, you’re back early today,” she said, confusion evident in her brow. You opened your trunk and pulled out a thick Gryffindor jumper, pulling it over your white turtleneck.

“I’ve decided to go to the match today,” you said, smoothing out your hair. Lily let out a laugh.

“You? Going to quidditch?” she asked with a goofy grin on her face. You shrugged with a small frown.

“James asked me to go,” you said quietly. Lily narrowed her eyes.

“James always asks you to go and you haven’t shown up in three years. I’m surprised you even knew there was a match today,” she said, turning back to the mirror to finish her makeup.

“Sirius found me in the library earlier and reminded me,” you said and you sidled up next to her by the mirror. You grabbed a red silk ribbon and began to pull your hair back. Lily smirked at you in the mirror.

“Oh now I understand,” she said in a playful tone. You rolled your eyes. “You just want to hang out with your boyfriend,” she continued before capping her mascara. You scoffed.

“Sirius is not my boyfriend! And if anyone is going to the match today to impress a boy it’s you,” you said, causing Lily to cough and blush deeply.

“Oh shut up,” she mumbled.

“Oh come on Lily I know you’re just going to watch James,” you said with a grin. Lily hid her crimson face with her hair.

“I just have house spirit,” she rationalized. You leaned back against the dresser and gave her a pointed look as she dropped onto her bed.

“Oh yeah? Then who’s jumper are you wearing right now?” you asked teasingly. Lily’s eyes went wide and she chucked a pillow at you. You just laughed before throwing it back at her and flopping on the bed beside her. The two of you laid in silence for a moment, mulling over your respective harbored feelings for boys with messy black hair. After a moment you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Lils?” you asked.

“Mhm?” she responded, turning her head to look at you.

“Do you think I’m boring?” you inquired softly. Lily furrowed her eyebrows.

“Of course not,” she said, “Why would you think that?” You shrugged, playing with a loose thread on the blanket. “Sirius called me boring this morning,” you revealed, sadness creeping into your voice. Lily scoffed.

“He was just teasing, you know how he is,” Lily said, propping herself up on her elbows. “He didn’t mean anything by it.” You frowned and continued to stare at the quilt. Lily hopped off the bed and held out her hand.

“Now let’s go,” she said with a smile, “Our boys are waiting.”

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

When you and Lily arrived at the quidditch pitch you are already cold. You rubbed your hands together as you searched the full stands to see if Sirius actually saved you a seat or not. You eventually spotted him among the Gryffindors and you pulled Lily towards him.

When you arrived you sat down in the empty space next to him, shooting him a small smile.

“You actually came,” he said with a smirk, “Peter and I were taking bets on if you’d actually show or not.” You rolled your eyes.

“Of course I came. You dragged me out of the library for this,” you said. Sirius clutched his chest in mock offense.

“I did not drag you,” he exclaimed, “you left of your own volition.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

The match began soon after, the players taking their positions in the sky. You watched as they zoomed back and forth, different colored balls flying in different directions. You only vaguely understood how quidditch worked, learning solely from Jame’s rambles at the breakfast table, but you were completely confused as to what was happening in front of you. Sirius noticed your pinched expression and smiled softly, finding your confusion positively adorable. He nudged you with his shoulder.

“Do you have any idea what’s happening?” he asked with a raised brow. Your eyes went wide.

“What? Of course I do,” you sputtered causing his smile to widen.

“Okay, clearly you don’t,” he teased, “what do you need me to explain?” You ducked your head.

“What does the little golden ball do?” you asked nervously. Sirius barked out a loud laugh, causing several students to turn your way. Lily shifted beside you.

“Did you just ask what the snitch means?” she asked. You covered your face with your hands.

“Forget it,” you grumbled, silently wishing that you had paid more attention to James. If you had actually listened when he explained the game to you multiple times, you wouldn’t be sitting here, embarrassing yourself greatly in front of Sirius. You suddenly wished that you were Lily, who had understood quidditch since the first match she had ever attended.

“No no it’s okay,” Sirius chuckled, removing your hands from your face. Your hands burned even under your wool mittens from the contact. “Catching the snitch is the only way to end the game,” he explained, “The seekers look for it while the others play, and whichever team catches it gains a hundred and fifty points.”

“A hundred and fifty?” you exclaimed, “Then what’s the point of the rest of the game? Whoever catches the snitch basically wins with all those points.” Sirius shook his head.

“It’s really hard to catch so sometimes it takes them hours to play. The score gets up to three hundred sometimes, even before the snitch is caught.” You frowned.

“I guess that kind of makes sense. I still think it’s stupid,” you said. Sirius laughed loudly again.

“You’re so weird,” he said before mussing up your hair. You swatted his hand away and attempted to ignore the burning embarrassment that you felt in your chest. Only about thirty minutes into the match, the Gryffindor seeker caught the snitch and effectively won the game. The stands stood up, roaring in pride. Lily took off towards the pitch, searching for James. You made your way down there as well, hoping to congratulate your cousin. When you found him in the crowd he had an arm around the very flushed Lily whom you raised an eyebrow at. She just rolled her eyes and subtly flicked you off.

“Congrats Jamie!” you said, raising your hand for a high five. His eyes widened at the sight of you, using his unoccupied arm to pull you into a quick side hug.

“You actually came!” he cried with a wide smile, “I owe Wormtail two galleons now.” you scoffed indignantly.

“Yee of little faith,” you said. James laughed and shook his head.

“Glad Sirius convinced you to come,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You felt heat crawl up your neck. Lily slapped his arm.

“James! Behave,” she said. James smiled at her.

“I’m sorry my Lilyflower, it won’t happen again.” Lily ducked under his arm, causing him to pout.

“I said not to call me that, Potter,” she said with a glare. But there was a deep affection for the boy shining in her eyes. Sirius came up behind you and patted James on the back.

“Good game mate,” he said with a grin. James threw an arm around his best friend’s shoulder.

“You might need to convince (Y/n) to come to another match, I think she was good luck.” You ducked your head slightly.

Before you could respond, a girl came over and snaked her hand around Sirius’s arm. Sirius looked down at Marlene and sent her a smile. You felt your stomach turn in jealousy. Marlene was your roommate and one of your closest friends. But you couldn’t help but be envious of her closeness with Sirius. She was his most consistent hookup, them adopting a friends with benefits type of relationship. Marlene was beautiful with long blonde hair and a slender frame. She wore clothes that you only wished you could someday be confident enough to pull off and had an irresistible air about her. You wanted to be like her more than anything.

“There’s an afterparty in the common room tonight. You gonna be there?” she asked. You understood the implications of her words and the question that she was really asking him.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, adopting a slightly flirty tone. Marlene turned to the rest of the group, her bright eyes wide and expectant.

“Will you guys come too?” she asked, her voice much more innocent than before. Everyone around you nodded. You saw Sirius look at you.

“What about you, (Y/n),” he asked. You looked up and shrugged.

“Parties aren’t really my thing,” you replied. In your seven years at school, you had never attended a party, not understanding the appeal of getting drunk and dancing amongst sweaty bodies. Sirius snorted.

“Don’t know what I expected. Of course, Miss boring won’t be coming,” he said. His tone indicated that his statement was nothing more than a lighthearted jibe but you suddenly felt the burning need to prove him wrong.

“You know what,” you said with false confidence, “I think I will go.”

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

You stood in front of your mirror, tugging at the short skirt that you were wearing. You barely recognized yourself, having let Lily and Marlene dress you up. They had chosen a purple tank top and a black mini skirt. You had to admit that you looked good, but you did not look like yourself. If anything you looked more like Marlene, minus the effortless confidence and all around perfection. But when you thought of how Sirius constantly flirted with her, maybe emulating Marlene wouldn’t be such a bad thing. You gave your reflection one final frown before turning to your friends. Lily was applying a final coat of lipgloss and Marlene was messing with her hair.

“You guys almost ready?” you asked, wringing your hands nervously. Lily set aside her makeup and walked towards you.

“You look so good!” Lily said, seemingly not noticing your insecurity. You smiled anxiously at her, thanking her softly. Marlene ran her hands through her hair a final time before marching towards you.

“Let’s go, ladies,” she said with an excited squeal. She grabbed both of your hands and pulled you and Lily out the door.

When you arrived in the common room the party was already in full swing. Students were dancing together in the middle of the room and cups of firewhiskey mixed with a mystery liquid were being handed out. Marlene was immediately pulled onto the dance floor by a sixth year she had been flirting with and bid you goodbye. You and Lily weaved through the crowd together, searching for familiar faces.

You spotted the Marauders by the drinks table, each of them holding a cup in their hands. Lily went up to James, initiating a conversation with the boy. You stood by awkwardly, unsure of where to go. Suddenly, Sirius came up next to you, a second cup in his hand.

“A glass of jungle juice for the lady,” he said with a smirk. You smiled at him and accepted the cup. You wondered if your eyes were playing tricks on you or if Sirius had just looked you up and down.

“Thank you,” you said before taking a small sip. You immediately scrunched your nose and flinched, not used to the burning sensation in your throat. Sirius laughed from beside you.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, taking a long sip of his own drink.

“That was disgusting,” you said before taking another equally excruciating sip. Sirius lowered your cup from your lips, sending you a warning glance.

“Don’t drink too much too fast or you’ll get absolutely smashed,” he warned, “And you’ll get a killer headache in the morning.” You nodded in understanding. You took a quick glance around the room, spotting James and Lily head to the dance floor.

“So what does one do at a party?” you asked Sirius, earning a sweet lopsided grin from him.

“Well, obviously you drink,” he said, raising his cup. “But you also dance, hang out with people, and a lot of people come to find a quick hookup.”

“Okay got it,” you responded, bopping your head to the music.

“Not that you have to do any of that,” he said, “especially the last one.” Your cheeks flushed at his implication.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you mumbled, taking a quick sip of your drink. A silence settled over you as you fiddled with the straps of your tank top, still not used to the low cut. Sirius suddenly downed the rest of his drink.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, “I’m gonna get a refill.” You nodded quickly. While you waited you finished your own drink, becoming more used to the flavor as your head became fuzzier. You waited for Sirius for a while, and it appeared that he wouldn’t be coming back. You made your way to the drink table and Sirius was nowhere to be found. You sighed, assuming that he had left with Marlene or another girl. You refilled your cup and downed it quickly, barely taking a break between sips, and poured a third. You stumbled over to the couch, realizing that the drink was stronger than you thought. As soon as you plopped down on the sofa, Lily was at your side, her cheeks flushed and her clothes slightly rumpled.

“(Y/n)!” she cried, throwing her arms around your neck, “There you are!” You giggled at your friend, her affectionate side coming out full force when she drank. As she burrowed into your neck, you caught a whiff of a familiar cologne. Your eyes widened and you pushed Lily off you.

“Did you? With James?” you asked, unable to properly articulate the question in your drunken state. Lily giggled.

“Yes,” she said, “but shh, don’t tell anyone.” Lily pressed her index finger to your mouth, causing you to giggle.

“That’s gross,” you groaned, attempting to rid yourself of the image of your cousin and best friend in a compromising position. Lily scoffed.

“I can promise you that it was certainly not gross,” she said with a sly smile. You covered your ears.

“Enough! I don’t want any details,” you cried. Lily laughed uncontrollably, flopping against you.

“Let’s dance,” she said, pulling you up from the couch. The two of you stumbled onto the dance floor and began to sway to the music.

“I don’t know how to dance!” you shouted at her. Lily grinned wildly.

“No one here does! That’s the fun of it!” The two of you jumped to the music and swung around. You felt a pair of large hands touch your hips and you turned to see a boy in your year looking down on you with half-lidded eyes. At the moment you couldn’t remember his name, but you leaned into his touch anyways, moving closer. A flash of guilt came over you when his fingers brushed the bare skin of your stomach but you brushed it away. Why should you feel the need to stay loyal to a boy that you don’t even have? A boy who didn’t even think of you in a romantic sense?

From across the room, Sirius watched you over Marlene’s shoulder. The girl had pulled him into a conversation and had effectively trapped him in a corner. He hadn’t meant to leave you stranded in the middle of the party. Now he watched as you pressed yourself against a stranger and Sirius gritted his teeth. He looked back down at Marlene who was looking up at him with a seductive expression. He had no intention of sleeping with her tonight, only wanting to spend his time with you. But it seemed that he had blown his chances since you were clearly occupied. So Sirius brushed a strand of hair from Marlene’s face a leaned closer to her.

Lily backed away from you, sending you a not so subtle thumbs-up, before abandoning the dancefloor. You and the boy danced for a while longer before you caught sight of Marlene and Sirius with their faces close together. You frowned slightly before tearing your eyes away, not wanting to subject yourself to that torture. You tried to turn your attention back to the boy who you were pressed against. His advances were getting slightly bolder, his hands traveling slightly farther down your waist. He suddenly flipped you around, tilting your chin towards him with his pointer finger. He started to lean in, but you broke away from his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your panic levels rising.

“Trying to kiss you?” he answered, confused at your reaction. You felt tears slightly burn behind your eyes and you went to push past him. He grabbed you by the wrist.

“Where are you going? I thought we were having a good time,” he asked, anger edging into his tone.

“Away from you,” you replied, harsher than you intended. He scoffed before letting go of your wrist. You push through the crowd and out of the common room.

Sirius watched the whole altercation and peeled Marlene off of him when he saw you flee the party.

“Sirius?” she asked, confusion in her eyes.

“I have to go,” he said breathlessly. Marlene shrugged.

“Alright then. I’ll go find Dorcas,” she said, heading off to find her next hookup.

Sirius hurried out the portrait hole, attempting to track you down. He found you crumpled in a hallway a small ways away from the fat lady. Your head was in your hands and you cried, the makeup Marlene had meticulously put on you slowly smudging. Sirius slid down next to you and pulled you into a tight hug, setting his chin atop of your head and letting you sob into his shirt.

��It’s alright,” he said in an attempt to soothe you. You hiccupped.

“I hate parties,” you cried, your voice muffled by his T-shirt. Sirius couldn’t help but smile slightly at your personality shining through your drunken stupor.

“I know I know,” he said quietly, rubbing circles into your back.

After a few minutes of muffled crying, you sat up and wiped your eyes.

“Feeling better?” Sirius asked, pulling his knees up to his chest. You nodded silently.

“Why are you out here?” you asked quietly, “I thought you were with Marlene.” Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, not missing the bitterness in your voice.

“She’s still at the party,” he answered, “I left her to come to help you.” You pouted slightly.

“Why would you leave Marlene?” you asked confusedly, “I’m not worth that, Marlene’s perfect.” Sirius frowned deeply.

“What are you talking about,” he prodded. You sighed.

“Marlene is so pretty and perfect. I don’t know why you’d leave her to come see me,” you slurred. Sirius brushed a strand of hair from his face.

“Because I was worried about you. Besides, you’re more important to me than Marlene,” he answered. Your frown only deepened.

“But you spend all that time around her. And she’s so beautiful. Merlin,” you put your head in your hands, “I wish I was like her.” Sirius thought his heart would break at your words and forlorn expression. He pulled you back into his chest, stroking your hair.

“You don’t need to be like Marlene,” he assured you. You struggled to break free from his grasp.

“You don’t understand,” you mumbled.

“Then explain it to me,” he sighed. You pulled your knees to your chest.

“Marlene is so beautiful and confident. I just wish that I could be like her. Or even half as pretty as she would be enough,” you peered up at Sirius with teary eyes.

“What are you talking about?” he whispered, “You’re beautiful.” You scoffed.

“No, I’m not. I’m homely and plain and I’m boring. I’m not enough. Marlene is enough. Lily is enough! I want to be like them,” you said, choking back a sob. Sirius reached out to wipe away your tears.

“You’re more than enough.”

“But I’m not! I’m not pretty like them. I’m not sure of myself like Marlene. I’m not smart like Lily. For Godric’s sake! That’s why I’m always in the library every weekend. I need to spend my whole life studying to make good marks. No matter how much I try and try it’s never good enough,” you yelled. Sirius was silent, taken aback by your outburst. He had no idea what to say to you to try to get you to understand just how wrong you were.

“(Y/n),” he pleaded with you to look at him. You lifted your head, your cheeks still flushed from yelling. “You are unbelievable. You’re kind and funny, and astonishingly sweet. Lily and Marlene don’t even hold a candle to you,” he said softly. You looked away.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” you accused, your words slightly garbled from the alcohol. Sirius looks you deeply in the eyes, his eyes unwavering.

“You are the most beautiful and amazing girl that I have ever seen. And I have thought this since the moment that we first met,” he said. This confession stirred something in your chest. You tried to think of what to say, sorting through your fuzzy and muddled thoughts. You opened your mouth to reply, before promptly leaning over and hurling all over Sirius’s shoes.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The next morning you woke up with an earth splitting headache. You groaned as you rolled over, spotting the glass of water on your bedside table. You looked down to see that you were still wearing last night’s clothes.

“Good morning sunshine,” Lily said with a smirk, leaning against the dresser in one of James’s jumpers.

“Quiet please,” you begged, sitting up slowly. Lily chuckled. You looked around the room to see Mary and Alice sleeping soundly in their beds.

“Where’s Marlene?” you asked, dread settling at the bottom of your stomach, immediately assuming that she was with Sirius. Lily shrugged.

“She never made it back last night.” You swung your legs out of bed and began to get ready for the day, wiping off the old makeup and putting on fresh clothing.

“She must be with Sirius then,” you said. You saw Lily frown.

“Do you remember anything that happened last night?” she asked. You tried to recall your memories to no avail.

“The last thing I remember is dancing with you and that guy. Everything is all fuzzy after that,” you confessed, “Why?”

“Well, that guy made a pass at you so you ran away. Sirius brought you back and put you to bed. I think Marlene was with Dorcas, not Sirius,” she revealed. You frowned, struggling to recall these events. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t remember a thing.

“Oh,” was your only response.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

“Hello there ladies!” James called as you and Lily walked to the table for breakfast. Lily sat next to him and didn’t protest when he put an arm around her waist, and you plopped down and immediately rested your head on the table.

“Rough night?” Remus asked with a chuckle.

“I am never drinking again,” you replied with a groan.

“That’s what they all say,” James said, patting you on the back. You sat up, trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t make you throw up. You glance up to see Sirius avoiding your gaze.

“Hey,” you whispered to him. He looked up at you briefly before turning back to his plate.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Do you know what happened when I left the party? I can barely remember a thing from last night,” you asked. Sirius’s shoulders appeared to slump slightly.

“I went to go find you and then I carried you back to your room,” he said, still not looking at you fully.

“Oh. So that’s all?” you asked. Sirius smirked.

“That and you threw up on me,” he revealed, making your jaw drop.

“I did not!” you exclaimed, your hand covering to cover your mouth. Sirius grimaced slightly.

“Unfortunately for me, you did.” Your face burned with embarrassment and you wanted the floor of the Great Hall to swallow you whole.

Marlene sauntered up to the table eventually, looking far too good for someone who had been out all night.

“Hello everyone,” she said as she sat, her voice bright and chipper. You attempted to smooth your hair, self-conscious now that the gorgeous girl was sitting next to you. Sirius frowned at your action, now knowing the meaning behind it.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

You were doing homework in the common room when James and his friends surrounded you on the couch. You looked up at them, noting their suspicious behavior and narrowing your eyes at them.

“What are you guys up to?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. James sat down next to you and threw an arm around your shoulder.

“Well my dear cousin, we need your help with something,” he stated with a sly smile on his face. You crinkled your nose and removed his arm from you.

“Does this something happen to be a prank?” you asked frankly, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. James shrugged.

“Possibly…” he said.

“James, how many times must I tell you that I don’t want to be involved in your practical jokes,” you reminded him. James groaned.

“Come one, (Y/n)! Where’s your sense of adventure?” he asked, exasperated. The memories of Sirius calling you boring bounced around in your mind. You stole a quick glance at him to see him watching you with an unreadable expression.

“Fine,” you agreed, internally hoping that you wouldn’t come to regret your words. You looked back at Sirius to see him frowning.

You and the Marauders walked through the corridors as James explained the plan. Remus, James, and Peter were going to set up fuses in three classrooms that when lit, would cause paint bombs to explode in each room. You and Sirius were to be lookouts. James, Peter, and Remus disappeared into the classrooms while you and Sirius leaned against the wall.

“I didn’t expect you to agree to this,” Sirius said, “I didn’t think you liked this kind of thing.” You shrugged and inspected your nails, picking at the skin around them.

“I’m trying to branch out. Trying not to be so boring,” you answered. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows.

“You’re not boring,” he said in an oddly defensive manner. You widened your eyes.

“You literally tell me I’m boring all the time,” you replied. Sirius leaned his head back against the wall.

“I’m just joking when I say that. You’re not boring, just responsible,” he said with a frown. You turned your head away and peered down the hallway.

“Can I ask you something?” Sirius asked, turning his body fully towards you.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied.

“Lily told me that the guy at the party tried to kiss you and that’s why you ran away. How come you didn’t kiss him? You looked pretty into him when you two were dancing,” he asked, barely meeting your eyes. You flushed deeply.

“I- uh,” you stuttered, “I’ve never kissed anyone before and I didn’t want to do it for the first time when I was drunk and with someone I don’t even know,” you revealed shyly. Sirius cocked his head.

“What do you mean you’ve never kissed anyone?” he asked.

“I mean that. No one has ever kissed me,” you repeated, shaking your head slightly.

“What? How come?” Sirius asked. You shrugged.

“No one’s ever wanted to I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity. No one’s ever liked me like that.”

“That’s bullshit,” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“Plenty of guys like you like that!”

“What?” you sputtered.

“Well that guy last night for one,” he explained.

“Oh he doesn’t count!” you cried out, “He was drunk and it was a party!”

“Ok then, that Ravenclaw from transfiguration, Parker Johnson, Carter Mason had the biggest crush on you in fourth year,” he said, repeatedly listing names. You threw up your hands.

“What! That’s so not true!” you said with a laugh. Sirius smiled widely at you.

“Yes, it is! You have guys falling all over you and you don’t even notice.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t believe you. Why have none of them ever said anything? And I feel like I would have noticed if that many people liked me-” your rambling was cut off by Sirius’s lips pressing against yours. Your eyes were wide and when you don’t immediately reciprocate he moved back.

“What was that for?” you whispered fervently. Sirius cleared his throat.

“Practice,” he said, “for when one of those blokes has the courage to ask you out.” You gaped at him, unsure of how to react.

“Thank you?” you said, not being able to come up with another response.

“What are friends for?” he asked with a shrug, turning to face away from you. With that one word, Sirius Black effectively shattered your heart. Friends. Whatever shimmer of hope that the chaste kiss had given you faded into oblivion, only to be replaced by the empty feeling of sadness.

The silence between you and Sirius is interrupted when James came barreling down the hall, Remus and Peter not far behind.

“We need to go now!” he shouted, grabbing your hand and pulling you away.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

“He kissed you?” Lily practically shouted from her bed. You nodded, putting your head in your hands.

“Oh my Godric!” Marlene yelled from next to Lily.

“So are you two like a thing now?” Lily asked, a wide smile across her face.

“No,” you said dejectedly, “He said it was just as friends.” Lily scoffed and shook her head.

“Men are idiots,” she said, rolling over to lay on her back. Marlene nodded in agreement.

“How was it?” Marlene asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“How was what?”

“This kiss, silly!” she exclaimed. You flushed a deep red.

“I’m not sure I have nothing to compare it to,” you said. Marlene promptly stood up and marched to your bed before planting one on you.

“Marlene!” you sputtered, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. Lily squealed with laughter at your blushing face while Marlene grinned.

“Come on, how does it compare,” she asked again, “And how was mine? I’ve always wanted to know.” You threw a pillow at her.

“I am not answering that,” you grumbled, causing Lily and Marlene to dissolve into another fit of giggles. After a moment, when your sad expression doesn’t change, Marlene sat beside you and gave you a hug.

“I’m sorry he’s being such an arse,” she said softly, “I didn’t realize how much you liked him.” You sniffled.

“Are you mad?” you asked quietly. Marlene frowned.

“Why would I be mad?” she asked.

“You and Sirius kind of have something going on, don’t you?” you said, lifting your head to look at her. Marlene laughed.

“I mean I guess, but there are no feelings involved,” she assured you, “It’s just a bit of fun. And I never would have started it if I knew that you liked him.” You hugged her tightly.

“Thank you Marls,” you said softly, relishing in her warm and comforting touch.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

A week later and you and Sirius hadn’t talked. It appeared that he was ignoring you. You didn’t enjoy the radio silence as it made you feel even more rejected. So when your trip to Hogsmeade came around, you were surprised to see Sirius standing with your friends. He gave you a tight-lipped smile when you joined the group but didn’t speak a word to you. While the ride to the small village was lively and full of chatter, all you could focus on was Sirius’s silence.

The first stop was Honeydukes. You burrowed your way into the back of the store, searching for candies and trying to escape Sirius’s scorching gaze. You were examining a display of chocolates when you felt a presence appear beside you. You looked up to Sirius next to you.

“Thought you might like this,” he mumbled, holding out a chocolate frog like an olive branch. You smiled slightly at the gesture.

“No thank you,” you mumbled, feeling guilty.

“Oh. Sorry then,” he said, beginning to scoot away.

“Wait!” you cried out too loudly, causing Sirius to stop in his tracks. “Thank you, it was a nice thought. I just don’t like chocolate frogs,” you said shyly. Sirius frowned.

“But I thought that you loved chocolate. You’re always stealing from Remus’s stash,” he said. You blushed at the thought of him remembering such a small detail.

“I like chocolate,” you explained, “Just not chocolate frogs.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sirius said with a chuckle, leaning against a shelf.

“I have a reason,” you exclaimed, “It’s just kind of stupid.”

“Let’s hear it then,” he said, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned him, “I don’t like eating chocolate frogs because I feel like I’m killing them.” Sirius began to laugh.

“You know they’re not actually alive right?” he said in between wheezes.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” you whined.

“I’m sorry,” he said, still chuckling.

“When they’re wiggling all around it just makes them seem too alive,” you said with a shudder.

“You’re so weird,” he said. Despite the affection clearly evident in his eyes, you frowned at the comment. “Not in a bad way,” he corrected. He cocked his head. “In an adorable way.” You ducked your head and laughed.

“Oh hush,” you said, playfully slapping his shoulder. You go up to the front to pay for your sweets, Sirius right behind you. You look around the store only to discover that your friends are nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d everybody go?” you asked Sirius. He frowned.

“It appears that we have been ditched.”

You pushed open the door, heading out into the cold to find your friends. You shivered involuntarily at the chilly weather, a thin layer of snow gracing the ground. You had borrowed Marlene’s clothing for the trip to Hogsmeade, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction from Sirius. But now you slightly regretted that decision because her clothes were far thinner than yours and you were freezing.

“Here,” Sirius said as he draped his coat over your shoulders. You smiled and looked away.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“What are you wearing,” he asked, “You know you get cold.” You shrugged, tugging at the thin sweater.

“It’s Marlene’s,” you explained. Sirius scrunched up his nose.

“Why are you wearing her clothes? What’s wrong with your clothes?” he asked almost accusatory.

“Nothing is wrong with my clothes, I just wanted to try something new. I like how Marlene dresses,” you said.

“Do you want to try something different or do you think you need to be like Marlene?” he asked bluntly, crossing his arms. You stopped in your tracks and spun around to face him.

“Why are you acting like this?” you asked irritatedly.

“Answer the question,” he said raising his eyebrows. You scoffed.

“What are you even going on about?” you asked, avoiding his gaze. He had somehow pinpointed the exact reason that you were wearing Marlene’s clothing and you hated it. Sirius sighed and kicked some snow with his toe.

“At the party, when you were drunk, you said some things,” he revealed quietly. You felt your stomach drop.

“What did I say?” you whispered. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows.

“You said all these horrible things about yourself, saying that you wished you were like Marlene or Lily,” he answered. You sucked in a breath.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you mumbled, embarrassment burning in your chest. Sirius took a step closer to you.

“Don’t be sorry. I just didn’t know you felt like that. I’m worried about you, that’s all,” he said. You sighed quietly.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” you said, hoping to end the discussion there.

“Yes I do, (Y/n),” he said, “because I can see you trying to change all of these things about yourself and you shouldn’t be. You’re not boring and the way you always dress is perfect. You don’t need to change unless you want to for the right reasons. These are not the right reasons.” You sniffled, your eyes burning.

“Sirius I’m fine, I swear,” you said under your breath. Sirius ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Yes, you are fine. Fine the way you are. So stop trying to change. You’re already perfect,” he said, practically pleading with you. You scoffed.

“You’re just saying this to make me feel better,” you replied. Sirius grabbed your hands.

“I’m not, I promise. You are the most extraordinary and beautiful person I know. Don’t change for anybody but yourself,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning across your face.

“Sirius…” you breathed.

“I wish I could get you to see yourself how I see you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. You search his face, his eyes filled with sincerity. After a short moment of contemplation, you stood on your tiptoes and ghosted a kiss against his lips. Sirius immediately reciprocated, placing a hand tenderly on your waist. The kiss was miles better than your last, his lips sweet and warm and your hands tangled in his hair. When he pulled away, a gentle smile adorning his features, he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I like you, (Y/n),” he said, “The real you. The you who sits in the library on Saturdays and doesn’t know shit about quidditch and who is afraid of eating chocolate frogs. That’s the you that I want.” His eyes held just as much emotion as his words, making tears prick at the back of your eyes.

“I can be that,” you whispered. He pressed a kiss to your hairline.

“I hope someday you can love that version of you as much as I do.”

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

Taglist:

@bellaacunaa @mytreec @levylovegood @inglourious-imagines

@durmstrange @theweasleysredhair @spn-marvel-nerd

add yourself here

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #young!sirius black #young!sirius black x reader #marauders era #marauders fic #young marauders #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fic #harry potter imagine #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst

805 notes · View notes

wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Best Not To Cry Over Spilled Milk

Pairing: James Potter x Sirius' twin!reader

Warnings: A shit ton of angst, a little swearing

Word Count: 3,779

Request: @rini-scallison: May I request something? If I may I would like to request something like not so perfect sister but instead it’s with Sirius as the brother (a twin if you may) and the reader is like the perfect daughter and Sirius hates her but she tries really hard for him to have a happy life and there’s a bunch of angst and stuff ! You can add a romance in there if you would like too ! Thank you!

A/n: Okay sooo I'm not sure if this is exscatly what the request was but it's how I interpreted it, I really like it at least, I hope you guys do to. I'm hoping to bang out my last few requests, I'm quarantined till April 12th sooo... (stay safe everyone, love you all <3)

Sirius liked to believe he was a pleasant person. At least for the most part, and considering his background, he thought he did pretty good. He may not have been an angel but he had good friends, he helped those around him and unless your name was Severus, he was usually kind. Usually. Unfortunatly there were two people in this world that could break his carefully crafted exterior in a matter of seconds. They both shared his name.

The first was his mother, someone who in all honesty he saw as less of a human and more of a grotesque creature from a child’s nightmare. In his mind, her black heels were replaced by sharp talons. Her long fingernails were claws of obsidian and her dark eyes had the ability to turn you to stone. She had spent her time in Sirius’ life diminishing him to nothing more than a clone of her terror as he tried to make himself anything but.

The second was a success story. The clone of his mother’s terror. His beloved twin, y/n Black or as many had taken to calling her recently; the Slytherin Queen. And boy was she. She followed every order dispatched to her, obeyed every demand, bowed before the monster that had raised her. She had kept on her blindfold her mother had placed on her the minute she had entered the world. Maybe it only took the twelve minutes which y/n had emerged before Sirius for her to fall under a spell which even the youngest black had started to break from.

Sirius was never sure what happened to you. You always sat with your back straight at the dinner table. You never complained about the corset which was always sinched too tight, you would just let your vision go dark from the lack of oxygen. And it completely infuriated him.

Sirius really wished he hadn’t cared when he had gotten the letter. He really wished he had thrown a party and done something stupid like set off fireworks in the common room. But he hadn’t. He had instead demolished an entire bottle of fire whiskey crying because, fuck it hurt to be tossed aside by the people who were supposed to love you most. The next morning he dragged you into an empty classroom hungover and still smelling of liquor and asked you what he fuck had happened.

You had told him you begged your mother not to, you told a sob story about a sad little argument in which you- the obvious victim -had fought for his place on the banner in your living room.

The truth had been very different, his mother had exposed the fact that it was indeed your idea to kick him from the family, that you were convinced he was a disgrace, nothing more than a bug to squash under your boot. He wished he could believe you not his monster. But he knew you. He knew you so goddamn well. You were his twin. His other half. He saw the way your eyes darted away from his own, you shifted on your feet, how you bit the inside of your cheek. You had lied. You had lied to him and he would never forgive you for it.

“And what is the M.O.M classification of the Phoenix?” Merrythought asked. Your hand shot in the air. “Ms. Black?”

“An XXXX professor, although it did not earn this rating from its aggression but only because so few wizards have been able to domesticate it.” You explained and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Correct Ms. Black, five points to Slytherin.” The teacher praised, you beamed still sitting straight as a board.

Sirius let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like the words ‘Kiss ass’ earning a few giggles from the surrounding students.

You pretended you didn’t hear him, hand tightening around your quill.

James watched as your knuckles went white, How did your brother still bother you? He wondered.

Sirius leaned back in the chair next to him mumbling something unnecessarily rude. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. When class was dismissed Sirius made a point to pass you as you packed up.

“You’ll make an excellent death eater sis.” He taunted and you paused for a moment but refused to comment.

Sirius left the classroom James followed risking a glance over this shoulder to see you being joined by a blonde boy and the Lestrange sisters. Sirius caught him looking and sneered, “A bunch of future murders. Fuckin’ assholes.”

“You know you could give her a rest, you haven’t even spoken in like a year,” James suggested.

Sirius scoffed, “And who’s fault is that?”

James shrugged, knowing the awnser.

“You know she’s ghosting Reg too?” Sirius glowered, “He always looked up to her too, I have no clue why, but he did. And now she won’t even talk to him.”

Remus and Peter joined the pair as they made their way into the Grand Hall.

“Talking about y/n?” Remus inferred.

“Hard not to when she’s such a bitch.”

James cringed at his friend’s choice of words. “I’m hungry, let's get some food.” He spoke attempting to change the topic.

“Why else would be in here?” Remus laughed.

James cracked a smile opening his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“Oh shit.” Sirius cussed.

“What did you do?” Remus sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything but can you get me food and meet me in the common room, I may or may not be avoiding Marleen,” Sirius spoke ducking behind James.

“Sure, just get out of here, I really don’t want to hear her voice right now.” Peter cringed at the memory of being yelled at by the sharp toned girl.

“I’ll get food, you guys ditch,” James suggested. The other three agreed to leave the hall as the fourth grabbed four plates filling each and flicking his wand causing them to float in the air surrounding him.

James then made his way from the hall. As he turned out of the door he ran straight into someone, stumbling backward a bit he straightened his gaze to see you, your group of what he supposed were friends sneered at him.

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up.” You spoke, voice monotone.

They silently agreed, leaving you with the curly-haired boy who now pushed his glasses nervously up his nose.

“Hey Potter, I need to talk to you.” James would never admit he was scared of you but he did feel his heart leap to his throat at your words.

“What’s up?” He asked hoping you didn’t catch as the sentence wavered slightly.

You bit your lip glancing down at your feet before looking up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to thank you.”

That is not what he expected you to ask.

“I can’t even begin to say how relieved I am that you took Sirius in. Please thank your parents for me as well.” You seemed almost nervous, “I actually have something for you.”

James could not believe that the words you were saying were actually coming out of your mouth. He had expected you to cuss at him, call him a blood traitor amongst other names and then follow your friends into the hall. But you were thanking him instead.

You rummaged in your bag before removing a red box about the size of a wide bookmark. You held it out to the boy.

James stared at you half expecting you to break out laughing and reveal the joke.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumbled shoving the gift at his chest.

“Sorry.” James murmured opening the box eyes widening. Inside was a watch, a damn nice one. It looked to be at least plated with gold, if not solid. Its inside was a scarlet red with three different faces, one of which instead of showing roman numerals around the edge showed the phases of the moon. The strap was a reddish leather, clasp gold as well.

“Here, watch this.” You spoke stepping closer and carefully removing the watch from its velvet cushion. You held it delicately, pressing an almost invisible button on the side. In a flash two delicate golden wings erupted from the sides of the device and James realized in fascination that the watch now appeared to look like a snitch, you paid no mind flipping it over to reveal a small square gap on the back. “It’s enchanted with an undetectable extension charm so you can put just about anything in it.” You explained clicking the small button again.

James watched in marvel as the wings fluttered closed closing the gap seamlessly. “This is amazing y/n,” He whispered looking up at you only to realize you were centimeters away. He could feel your breath fan over his cheeks. It was cold and minty.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” You reasoned sliding the watch back into its case and stepping backward. “And before you say you can’t accept it remember that I have plenty of money.”

Those were going to be the next words out of his mouth.

“I have one more thing to ask you, James.” You seemed really nervous now, you hoisted the strap of your bag back up over your shoulder. “How’s Sirius? Is he okay?”

You had baffled him once again.

“I know I should be asking him that but ever since last year he would sooner light me on fire than have a civil conversation with me.” You sighed.

The Chaser stared at you, this is not how he thought your conversation would go.

“So is he okay?” You asked again, almost urgently.

“Yeah, he’s fine.” James assured you, “He’s a little moody but overall he’s good.”

“Have his panic attacks stopped?” You questioned.

James who had no clue he even got those nodded, “I think so.”

“Mental breakdowns?”

James ran his hands through his hair, “He gets them every once and awhile, Moony and I help him through though.”

You gave a weak smile and stepped forward wrapping your arms around his neck, placing your forehead on his chest. James froze, slowly letting his arms hold your waist, “I honestly can’t thank you enough. You’re a godsend Potter.” You mumbled. You stepped away a few seconds later crimson kissing your cheeks. “Don’t tell Siri we talked. He’ll be pissed.” And with that, you left.

James felt his heart hammer as he sucked in the air he didn’t realize he had stopped breathing. What just happened?

James had had a crush on you the second you locked eyes centuries ago on platform 9 and ¾. You were the main reason he had looked so long for a certain compartment. A compartment that contained a set of twins, one of which would become his best friend. You had always been very pretty, your strong attitude had aided in that conclusion as well. He thought you were going to be very good friends with him. That was until you were sorted into Slytherin and Sirius soon revealed his rivalry with you.

He had still harbored feelings for you, small ones he chose to ignore most of the time. He never told a soul, passing his feelings from girl to girl. He proved to be quite good at burying them. You also showed just how good you were at unearthing his secrets with a laugh, a wide smile or the save of a quaffle. The feeling of you in his arms rested in his mind for a long time. He dreamt of you, yearned to hold you again. You had smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you fit into his chest as a puzzle piece did to its neighbor. He really wished you hadn’t hugged him.

As your sixteenth birthday approached both twins appeared to be more and more on edge. James was dead set on throwing a massive party but Sirius didn’t seem into it. As the day loomed closer he got jumpy, almost paranoid; as if someone was going to lean out from behind him and throw a bag over his head before dragging him away.

James also began to notice your absences from classes. More and more often you were simply gone, not being anywhere for days before appearing out of nowhere. You always looked so pale when you got back from wherever you had gone, the circle under your eyes always looked darker. He had asked Sirius what was up but got nowhere, he would just lick his lips and say nothing was wrong. A blatant lie.

You disappeared four days before the 3rd and was gone the entire week. Sirius refused to go to classes that week as well, claiming to be sick, which was fair considering he looked white as a ghost most of the time.

When you finally returned it looked as if you had been kissed by a dementor. Your face was vacant of any color, your usually vibrant eyes looked pale, bags underneath them bruised brown.

Both James and Sirius simultaneously tried to convince themselves you just had a stomach bug, that your sunken cheeks were nothing to be concerned about. Both knew they were wrong.

Sirius found you easily. He knew you too well. You always snuck outside, even when you were younger you would always sneak to the park a few blocks away to escape your mother’s rage. Until you learned to play with fire rather than run from it.

He followed you to the greenhouse. You had always liked herbology.

You turned at the shuffle of feet to see your brother, he looked almost as terrible as you did.

“Did you do it?” He asked, his voice sounding so empty as muffled chirps of crickets flowed through the cold November air.

You refused to look up, You sat in the corner of the cold glass house, your knees pulled to your chest, eyes cast on your dress shoes.

“Did you really go through with it?” His voice cracked, he stumbled over his own feet.

You still didn’t answer. Tears had built so thickly in your eyes you couldn’t see. You blinked and they went cascading downwards, raindrops leaking off your chin.

“Answer me y/n!” Sirius cried through gritted teeth, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“We have to get Regulus out of that house.” You spoke so plainly it was hard to believe that the words had come from you. “Fuck Siri they have a new initiation ceremony. He can’t go through with that.”

“Shit y/n/n, what did you do?” His voice was a mix of disgust and despair.

“I don’t fucking know.” You answered honestly.

“Did you kill someone?” He hissed.

“I wish I did Siri, I really wish I did.”

Sirius dropped his shoulders a defeated sigh coming from his lips.

“We have to get him out soon Siri. He is so much more stubborn than you were too.” You whimpered. “I mean you practically disowned yourself, mom just needed a push with you.”

“Why did you give her that push?” Sirius gasped, “Why did you do that? I could have helped you.”

“I saved you, Sirius.” Your sentence broke in half, “I know you hate me for it but I saved you.”

Sirius wiped his eyes furiously, “How did you possibly save me y/n?” He seethed.

“What do you think mom would have done if you were still in that house four days ago?” You asked. You knew he already knew the answer.

“Why the fuck didn’t you save yourself?” Sirius hollered, “Why did you follow every rule she set? Every fucking order she gave you?”

“The Black family needed an heir.” You shrugged tongue darting out to collect a tear from the corner of your mouth. “I knew it had to be one of us, if not you or me then Reg.” you paused, “So I decided it would be me.”

“How? How could you possibly decide that?” Sirius sobbed now standing in front of you. You still didn’t look up.

“It was easier than you would think.” You chuckled darkly.

“It’s not fair y/n.” He stated, “We can still help you. Dumbledore will help, you can stay with James and me. Please y/n.”

“It’s too late and you know it.” You spoke, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.”

“But your life isn’t spilled milk!” Sirius shouted.

“Might as well be.” You shrugged finally meeting your brother’s eyes. They matched your own, puffy and red.

“How can you say that?” The boy spat, “It’s your fucking life!”

“Not anymore.” You sighed. “Look, Siri, in all honesty, I don’t give two fucks about my life right now, we have less than 13 months to find a way to get Regulus the fuck out of that house and then boom he turns 16 and none of this shit matters anymore. So stop worrying about me and start realizing we can still save him.”

Sirius had never felt so incredibly selfish before. You had given away your life for him and for Regulus. What had he given away? He had gotten the life he wanted while you would suffer for the rest of yours. And all you said was ‘It’s best not to cry over spilled milk.’ He suddenly remembered every jibe and comment he had said to you. You had done nothing but bite your tongue as he taunted the nightmare you lived him so he could bask in a daydream.

“I need you to start hanging out with him.” You mumbled, voice raw, “I have been avoiding him, hopefully, it will help. I’m gonna start making up lies about how his grades are slipping and he’s hanging out with mudbloods, maybe dating one.” You sighed, “Reg still wants to impress mom, I need you to get it into his mind how twisted she is. Make him hate her. Make him hate me too, use me as an example.” You paused, “Can you do that Siri?”

Sirius didn’t speak for a long time. You didn’t pressure him to. You stared straight ahead tears still leaking from your eyes.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Sirius finally spoke. He sounded half-dead, deflated. He sounded like you.

“Good.” You didn’t waste a second. You got to your feet wiping your tears and then you walked away.

James sprinted down the halls. He has his eyes peeled to the two names in the greenhouse. He made it free of the castle and saw a figure making their way towards him. He glanced down at the map and saw that it was you.

As he neared you he was finally able to drink in your appearance. Your eyes were bloodshot, you were attempting to dry never-ending teardrops, dragging your forearm repeatedly over your face. When you looked up at him his heart broke. Your bottom lip was shaking eyes so glassy it must have stung.

You dove into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and you began to cry. Your body jumped with sobs as James pulled you closer to him.

He forgot about everything but you as you nuzzled closer to him. He forgot about Sirius, about the tears soaking through his shirt and the dew that had dampened his robes. He only cared about you. You and the fact that you still smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you and your overly soft hair, you and your cold hands wrapped around him.

James nestled into your hair inhaling its intoxicating scent. He then hooked his hands under your arms and lifted you so your hands were wrapped around his neck. You understood and wrapped your legs around his waist your head becoming buried into his neck. He placed one hand under each of your thighs and began to carry you inside. As you made your way through the castle your tears began to slow, sobs turning to whimpers.

James felt his face bloom with deep red roses. His heart was thumping far too quickly. When he reached his destination he only had to pace twice before the door showed its self. The inside of the room was relatively the same as it always was except for the large brick fireplace and massive couch filled with large pillows.

The Chaser attempted to set you down on the couch but your firm grip on his neck and the legs wrapped around him forced him to follow downwards. A fresh blush coated his cheeks. You burrowed back into his embrace and it was quiet for a long time. The only noise coming from the crack of the fireplace and the sound of a faint wind blowing outside.

“Y/n what happened?” James finally asked and you pulled a bit away from him so you could look him in his eyes.

He looked so handsome, his deep chocolate brown eyes were wide with worry, only more magnified behind his round glasses. His cheeks were painted with poppies, his lips plush, and pink. His unruly thickly curled hair framed his face perfectly, a small strand falling between his eyes.

“You know I always had a thing for you.” You smiled weakly, “From the moment I saw you on the platform I thought you were the cutest thing I had ever laid eyes on.”

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond, he assumed he was dreaming.

“I never wanted to tell you, James, I never thought I would. But I need to.”

The room fell quiet again.

“Can I kiss you y/n?” James finally asked his heart near shattering.

You nodded slowly and he let his eyes flutter shut, yours doing the same as your lips gently met. The kiss was so fragile you were afraid it may break. He tasted like pumpkin juice, his tongue slipping into your mouth seconds before you pulled away.

“Y/n let me help you.” James pleaded as you swung your feet off of the couch, sitting upright as you mumbled ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ quietly to yourself.

“Just.. take care of Siri for me.” You could feel tears beginning to climb back upwards.

James sat up beside you, “Y/n please.” He begged.

“It’s okay James.” You assured him with a watery smile. “You’ll get over it.”

“But y/n-”

You shushed him placing your pointer finger on his lips. He blinked a small tear falling down his flushed cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb.

“You’ll be okay James.” You paused standing swiftly, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.” You murmured over your shoulder as you left the room.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

spooderboyandtincan · 3 years

Text

The 12(ish) Days of December

A/N: I intended to write a Hanukkah themed chapter, but unfortunately I suffered some burnout and I couldn’t really start it :(((((( I plan and hope to add on to this in the future, I just wanted to get it out here on time! Happy Holidays everyone!!

Read on Ao3

/ST*RKERS DNI/

“Che palle!” May cried as she and Peter stepped out of the elevator. “Tony, what the hell is that?!”

“It’s a giant teddy bear,” Tony called back from the kitchen. “It’s for you, Pete!”

“Me?” Peter gasped, his face lighting up. He charged toward the ten-foot teddy bear and tackled it. The giant brown bear teetered slightly with his weight but didn’t tip over. “He’s so soft!”

Tony came out of the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. He wiped his flour-coated hands on his pants and tried to give Peter a hug without pushing him off the bear,

“He’s so beautiful!” Peter giggled, wrapping his arms around the bear’s neck. “And huge!”

Tony nodded in a proud, self-satisfied sort of way. Besides being delighted that the boy clearly adored his gift, he now had proof that this was obviously how one should react when presented with a ten-foot-tall stuffed animal. He'd have to take a picture and send it to Pepper.

May tossed her purse on the floor and shook her head at Tony. “As long as you can find a place for it, I’m not complaining,” she chuckled.

“I’ll rent a storage unit somewhere,” Tony supplied, taking a sip of coffee from his Iron Man shaped mug. Tony treasured that mug, which had been gifted to him by Peter several months ago. He never brought it in the lab for fear that Dum-E or U would break it, and he kept it in the cabinet next to his “1# IronDad” mug (also a precious gift from his kid).

He looked back to Peter, who had wrapped his arms around the bear, which was tilting dangerously. “Be careful, kiddo,” he said, biting his lip. But the moment the words got out of his mouth, Peter and the gigantic teddy bear started to topple to the ground.

“Shit-!” he began, darting forward, only to be met by Peter’s giggles.

“Nooo. Leave me. ‘M comfy.” He rolled onto the bear’s big belly and sprawled across it. “This’s perfect,” he hummed, closing his eyes.

Tony and May shared a slightly exasperated yet fond glance. Tony flopped down next to Peter, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Now that I think about it, spider-baby,” he mused, “I’ve got something else for ya.”

Peter perked up and opened his eyes. “What?”

Tony gave him a large grin and ran a hand through his curls. “C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led Peter to his room.

May sighed. “I swear to god, Tony, if you’re giving him an Audi….” she muttered.

“I’m not!” the man insisted. Peter rolled his eyes and sat down on his bead.

Tony put a warm palm over his eyes. “Close your eyes, bud.”

Peter tried to keep his eyes closed as Tony ran to his own room, tearing through what sounded like wrapping paper and knocking boxes over with no absence of cursing.

Moments later, a small, leather 4x4 inch box was placed on his open palm. He opened his eyes and looked first at the box, then at up Tony, who smiled. May shrugged and gestured to open it.

Inside the box rested a thin, slender watch with a smooth black strap. The face of the watch was rectangular, and when Peter pushed the button on the side it lit up, displaying the time above what looked like a mini arc reactor. It resembled the StarkWatch he was wearing that very moment, except it looked more high-tech.

“A new StarkWatch, specially customized for you, by yours truly,” Tony said. “Your old one looked pretty busted, even though they’re supposed to be indestructible.” Peter snickered at Tony’s gentle jab. “And it’s got a few minor upgrades. You can set the lock screen, for one. And it should be trackable from anywhere in the universe, and I mean everywhere. And you can call me, or May, or Ned or Rhodey or whoever from the top of Mount Everest or the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”

“Wow,” Peter whispered, tracing the sides of the watch before strapping it onto his wrist. “Thank you, Mister Stark! I love it! It’s so cool!”

“What happened to ‘Tony?’” he grumbled playfully, giving his spider-baby a kiss on his head. “I’m glad you like it, buddy. It’s basically the same stuff as your old one, just better.”

Then, to both Peter and May’s surprise, Tony bent down and grabbed a colorful red bag covered in golden glitter. Peter laughed.

“Tony, it’s only the ninth!” May snorted, her eyebrows raised past her hairline.

“That’s because we’ll need these before Christmas,” Tony said wisely. He handed Peter a soft package wrapped in green tissue paper and watched him tear the packaging in half.

“It’s so ugly!” he cried, holding up a garish green sweater. There was a plastic red ball attached to the big reindeer's nose and tiny bells were tied onto the reindeer’s harness. Little snowflakes were patterned all over, and Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “I love it, Tony!” Peter pulled the sweater on and was delighted to find that the fabric was incredibly soft, instead of the unbearably itchy sweaters he had owned in the past. “It’s perfect!”

Tony laughed fondly at his already thrilled kid. “If you think it’s good now, wait till you see this. FRI, lights off,” he ordered.

Peter felt Tony fumble with something on his shoulder, and suddenly the sweater lit up. The reindeer’s nose lit up bright red, the snowflakes began to glow, and, as cliché as it might have sounded, the bells gave a merry jingle as Peter laughed.

“I love it!” He tackled Tony with a hug, relaxing slightly in the man’s arms.

“Good,” Tony chuckled, “‘Cause I’ve got about three more for you and your aunt each.”

“Tony, where’re we going?” Peter whined, his breath fogging the window. “Tell meeee!”

“My lips are sealed,” Tony said, pretending to zip his lips shut and throw away the key. “We’re almost there, Rudolph, don’t worry.”

“Rudolph?!” Peter snorted.

Tony reached over the console to ruffle his hair. “I thought you might want a Christmas nickname,” he explained. “Plus, y’know, you already had a nickname available that only required a bit of simple reconstruction, Roo.”

Peter shook his head. “Just tell meeee!”

“No. Never.”

“Pleeease?”

“I physically can’t, buddy.”

“Tell me! Tellmetellmetellme pleeeeeeeeease?”

“Will… to keep secrets… decreasing,” Tony said robotically. “Fine. We’re going ice-skating, Petey-Pie.”

Peter gasped, his big chocolate eyes going wide. “Really?!”

Tony grinned and glanced over to his kid. “Really.” He wished he could stop the car and give his sweet boy a hug.

“But…” Peter bit his lip. “I don’t really know how. I mean, I went ice skating with Ned a few years ago but we mostly fell over and bruised our butts.”

Tony chuckled fondly. “That’s okay kiddie, I’ll show you the arts. Rhodey and I went when we were in college, and man, we had a blast laughing at each other. Oh- we’re here!”

“Tony, I don’t have any skates!” Peter realized as they hopped out of the car.

“I already got you some, Pete, don’t worry,” Tony assured him. He opened the trunk of the car. “And I brought you an extra hat, a coat, a scarf, some better gloves, extra socks and a pair of snow pants.”

“Tony,” Peter began, leaning into the hug the man offered him all the same. He grumbled and rolled his eyes but let Tony wrap a scarf around his neck and trade his thin woolen gloves out for much warmer, thicker ones. Peter had to admit he felt a lot warmer. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thanks, Pete. M’kay, I’ve got these fancy red and blue skates for you and red and gold for me.”

“And I’m sure the color choices were random?” Peter asked sarcastically. “Wait- these have the Spider-Man logo on them! Mr. Stark, are there Spider-Man ice-skates?!”

Tony bent to kiss his forehead. “There are, Pete. Pretty cool, huh?”

“So cool! I love ‘em, thank you, Tony!” He held up the skates to admire them. “They’re great!”

“No problem, buddy. It was my pleasure.”

Peter flopped down in the snow and pulled on his skates. He looked up to admire the tall oak and pine trees swaying gently with the wind, the last leaves of fall scattering along the icy roads. A pair of snowflakes drifted down to his coat, and Peter felt a sort of peace flow through him.

“Petey? Are you comin’?” Tony called, skating back and forth along the edge of the pond. Peter knotted the laces of his skates tightly and struggled to his feet.

“I’m trying!” he yelled, staggering forward. He leaned over the ice and felt a bit dizzy. It was about a foot down to the actual ice, and Peter knew without a doubt that he would slip if he tried to get down. “I dunno, um….”

“I gotcha, Petey, don’t worry.” Tony held out his arms and gave him a reassuring smile. Hesitantly, Peter lowered stepped onto the frozen pond, grabbing Tony’s arm and clinging to him as he got both feet on the ice.

“Good job, Roo!” the man praised, lifting him up by the armpits so he was standing up a bit straighter. He couldn’t help but compare Peter to a fawn who just stood up for the very first time, and the boy’s big bambi eyes weren’t helping his case. “Getting on the ice is the hardest part. I’ve landed on my ass more times than I can count.” Tony frowned at himself. “Sorry I said ‘ass,’ don’t repeat that.”

Peter snorted. His skates slipped and he felt Tony’s arms tighten around him. “Whoa there, buddy. I gotcha.” He tucked a loose curl behind the teen’s ear and kissed his cheek, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“‘M’kay, you ready, Pete?”

“Heck yeah!”

Tony grinned. “Okay, first, you said ‘heck yeah’ instead of ‘hell yeah’ and that’s adorable,” he teased, chuckling at Peter’s eye roll. “Second: let’s wreck this rink!”

Though of course, they ended up making more of a wreck of themselves rather than the rink.

The very second Peter slid his foot forward, he found himself spontaneously falling backwards. Luckily, Tony caught him easily and gently pulled him back up.

“I meant to do that,” he huffed, his small hands scrabbling at Tony’s coat. “It was- completely- intentional.”

“Of course it was, Roo, I know that,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows. “No one has the grace and agility you do.”

“I am graceful, Tony! How dare you?!” Peter grumbled.

Tony might have made a quip about the arms wrapped tightly around his waist for support, but he decided his poor kid had suffered enough. Despite bumping into every table or chair in his path, Peter was surprisingly graceful, especially when he swung with ease through the air on a thin stand of webbing. “You are graceful, buddy, I promise,” he admitted. “You wanna give it another try?”

Peter stuck his tongue out at him, adjusted his hat, and gingerly took a step forward. Tony tensed, ready to lunge forward and catch him if the boy slipped, but found himself letting a quiet cheer. “Nice job, Pete!”

Peter beamed at him, his legs spread far apart and his arms extended for balance. He tipped backwards and Tony started to jump forward, but Peter flailed his arms around and regained his balance.

“I think you’re getting the hang of it, kiddo!” Tony called as Peter made his way to the opposite side of the pond. He winced suddenly, protectiveness flooding through him at his retreating figure. “Be careful! Wait for me!”

He caught up to Peter easily and zipped in front of him, catching him by the shoulders. “You’re doing great, baby!”

“Thanks,” he giggled, looking down at his shoes. He wiped his red nose with the back of his hand and sniffled. “‘S fun!”

Tony smiled and adjusted Peter’s scarf. “Glad to hear it.”

“Tony?” he asked. “Can you do a figure eight?”

The man paused to consider this, clicking his tongue. “Only one way to find out!” he decided.

Peter watched excitedly as he skated out to the middle of the pond, looking practically weightless. Tony took a deep breath, prayed he didn’t break any bones, then pushed off. He zoomed around the pond in a perfect figure eight, only faltering for a brief moment, and traced over it twice before he skidded back to Peter. “Ta-da!”

Peter applauded, clearly very impressed. Tony bowed exaggeratedly and pretended to be embarrassed.

“D’you think I should try?” Peter asked.

Tony smiled fondly. “Only if you want to. I know you’d nail it though.”

And he did. Peter skated carefully to the edge of the pond and performed the figure eight beautifully, spinning in circles and laughing when he got a bit too dizzy.

Tony skated up to him, his eyes huge. “Jesus, Petey, that was fantastic!” He pulled the embarrassed teen to his chest and wished, not for the first time, that Peter wasn’t wearing a hat so he could kiss the top of his head. He settled for Peter’s cheek instead. “Wow, baby, that was amazing! Wait- I gotta sign you up for the Olympics. Where’s my phone- oh, I got it.” He pulled his phone from his coat.

“Tony, nooooo!” Peter protested.

“Tony yes. You’re too talented.”

“It was just a figure eight!” he giggled. “And you did one too so you hafta sign yourself up.” Peter looked up to the gray sky and shivered as the brisk winds tore at his heavy coat and scarf. He leaned even closer to Tony.

“You cold, baby?” Tony rubbed his back gently, hoping to generate some warmth. “Wanna go back home? We can come back here anytime you want.”

Peter sighed a bit sadly, but he had to admit he was freezing. He and Tony skated back to the car quickly. Snowflakes began to fall rapidly down as gusts of wind tried to upset their balance. Tony helped Peter onto the bank and they hurriedly yanked off their ice skates.

They found refuge in the car only when Tony turned the heater up full blast and leaned over the console to pull Peter into his arms. Peter’s shivers that had been worrying him far more than Tony had been willing to say eventually died off and together they watched what was now practically a blizzard raging outside.

“Just in time,” Tony mumbled into Peter’s curls. “Feel any better, baby?”

He grew worried when he received no response and pulled back. Peter’s eyes were shut and his breathing slow, though he made a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat when Tony pulled away. Tony smiled, a tender, loving light in his eyes and pulled Peter back into his arms, cradling his kid against his chest and rubbing his back soothingly. “‘M here. ‘M here, baby, don’t worry,” he cooed, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Peter curls tickled his cheek, his warm breath heating the skin of Tony’s neck. The console between him and his kid was uncomfortable and hard against his side, but he wouldn’t have moved for the world. Tony held Peter tightly and closed his eyes.

Maybe they could stay there a little while as they waited for the blizzard to pass.

III

Tony had been brewing a hot cup of coffee in the kitchen when a disheveled, sniffling, sleepy Peter face-planted into his back.

“Whoa, bud!” Tony spun around and caught the boy under the armpits. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?” He tilted Peter’s chin back and found that his nose was bright red, his eyes were half-lidded, and his bedhead was a lot worse (though still absolutely adorable) than it usually was.

“‘M fine,” Peter sniffled, leaning heavily against his chest. “Missed you.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony murmured, wrapping his arms around the small teen, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He gave his definitely-not-sick spider-baby a smooch on his temple. “You’re pretty warm,” he noted with a hint of worry in his voice. He pressed the back of his hand to the teen’s forehead. “Do you wanna lie down, kiddo?”

Peter shook his head weakly. “Wan’ you.”

Tony’s heart melted and he turned into a pile of mush. In this tired, sick, achy state Peter was clingier than ever, and all he wanted was him. He wanted Tony. He kissed Peter’s temple. “I’m gonna stay right here, Petey, don’t worry,” he assured his kid. “I promise.”

Tony held Peter with one arm while he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets with the other. “FRI? What’s up with the spider-baby?”

“Peter is exhibiting symptoms of a common cold, such as coughing, sneezing, a runny nose, and a fever,” the AI replied. Tony felt a pang of worry and empathy in his heart.

“Okay. I’ve got your pain meds,” he announced in a whisper. “Do you want water or OJ?”

Peter decided on the latter, not bothering to raise his head but simply mumbling “juice” into the man’s chest. Tony hummed in agreement and attempted to pour a glass for himself one-handedly (most of the juice ended up on the counter, but holding his sick kid was far more important than pouring orange juice).

He led the boy to the couch, a steadying hand around his shoulders. Peter snuggled against him, coughing and sniffling. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and shivered.

Tony placed two white pills into palm. Peter took a hesitant sip of his drink and gulped down the pills. Tony tucked an errant curl behind his ear and placed a kiss one his temple.

With Peter still in his hold, he strained to reach the weighted electric blanket that had fallen behind the couch. With a painful crack from his twisted back, he finally managed to get his fingers around the feather-soft blanket and settled back on the couch with a triumphant grunt.

He wrapped the electric blanket tightly around them both. Peter’s shivering caused a surge of fierce protection to run through his veins, and Tony hugged him to his chest, pressing a kiss to his soft, though slightly sweaty curls. He glared at the dark corners of the room, as if somehow the very cold that was making his child suffer so much would leap from the shadows.

Peter found comfort in the vibrations of Tony’s chest and the beat of his heart. The calloused fingers running through his hair and the occasional kiss against his temple soothed him beyond measure, and without ever realizing it, Peter started to drift off. Compared to when he had woken up, soaked with sweat, wheezing and sniffling and rather nauseous, he felt so much better in his father-figure’s embrace.

Dimly, he noticed that Tony was talking to him. He thought he recognized the words coming out of his mouth, and he realized suddenly that Tony was reading Mr. Willowby’s Christmas Tree to him. That book had been Peter’s favorite when he was a small toddler, and hearing the familiar words aloud brought a big burst of happiness to his chest.

Peter let his eyes slip shut for a second. The headache that had been pounding in his head was completely gone and in Tony’s arms, he felt incredibly warm and cozy and happy.

When his eyes opened again, he determined that Tony had finished reading the book. If he had had enough energy, he would have asked him to read another. But much to his delight, he realized Tony had already picked up another book.

And just before his eyes fluttered shut, he heard Tony’s gentle voice speaking, full of love. “I love you, Petey.”

I love you too.

“Mmm, Tony, the spaghetti was fantastic!” May exclaimed as she loaded her plate into the dishwasher. “I need that recipe, it’s just too good!”

Tony looked at Peter out of the corner of his eyes. The boy shook his head frantically and drew a finger across his throat. Tony snickered. “Thank you, May, I’m glad to hear that,” he said.

To be completely truthful, he felt like throwing up. During the dinner, Peter had chatted enough to distract him, but now his emotions were left to himself, and Tony had barely been swallowed by them. He stuffed the last plate in the dishwasher and took a few long, deep breaths. He massaged his forehead and blinked, sitting down heavily on the couch.

Tony’s heart was beating out of his chest. He looked up to the boy, who was texting someone- probably Ned, completely oblivious. “Pete?” he began shakily. “Do you think we could talk for a second?” He and May shared a glance. She realized immediately what he was about to do and gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.

“Yeah!” Peter vaulted onto the couch with a laugh. His grin faded when he saw how worried, how scared the man looked. Alarm kindled in his chest. “What’s wrong, Mr. Stark?”

Tony couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the cookie crumbs in the corners of his mouth or the way his hair frizzed everywhere as he pulled his Santa hat off. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

“Um-” Tony had to clear his throat. He reached down and grabbed a briefcase leaning against the couch that Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Uh,” he tried. He pulled two papers out of the briefcase and stared at them for a long while. “Do you think that you could give these a read, kiddo?”

Peter nodded silently and took them. He looked up at Tony, his head tilted in confusion.

He looked to the papers. His eyes widened in disbelief. “W-what? I-” He turned the papers over as if there would be a sticky note saying “IT'S A PRANK!” on the back. “What? W-what? I-I don’t-” Peter shook his head.

He couldn’t stop looking at those cream-colored papers.

Child: Peter Benjamin Parker

Adopting Parent(s): Anthony Edward Stark

The rest of the paper was blank, except for Tony’s signature at the bottom.

“Am I asleep? This-this is a dream, right?” Peter's eyes were filling with tears but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“It’s not a dream, sweetheart,” May said gently. “It’s real.” She squeezed his knee, hoping to ground him.

“Really?” He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to form words. He gaped like a fish, reading the adoption papers over and over again. “You-you wanna adopt me?” he finally managed to squeak out.

Tony finally gathered the courage to look at his kid. “Yeah, baby. But only if you want to, okay? Nothing would change, though. We’d- just be making it official. Everything would be the same except-” He throat closed, and suddenly he couldn’t speak.

Except Peter would be his official son- legally, on paper. And Tony would be his official dad. (There was no way Tony wasn’t already his dad.)

“What are you thinking, baby?” he murmured, instinctively tucking a curl behind Peter’s ear with shaky hands.

Tony’s gentle touch was enough to break the dam of emotions that had been holding back. Peter sniffled, then burst into tears and practically jumped into his dad’s arms.

Tony hugged him tightly, rubbing a hand up and down his back and pressing long kisses to his temple. Peter blubbered into his chest, happy tears soaking Tony’s sweater. May wrapped her arms around the two and squeezed them both tightly.

Tony felt tears prickle in his own eyes and he dropped his forehead to Peter’s curls. “Is that a yes?” he finally managed to say.

Peter giggled wetly and nodded frantically against his chest.

A grin as wide as a dinner plate crossed Tony’s face. He realized suddenly that tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. He kissed the top of Peter's head and squeezed him tighter.

May pressed a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek and stood up. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, sensing that the father and son might want a moment alone.

Tony rocked his kid back and forth, rubbing his back and pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” he murmured into his chestnut curls. “I love you.” IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

“Love you,” Peter babbled. “I love you too. I love you.”

He held Peter at an arm’s length, still grinning. Then he pulled his kid back to him again and kissed his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of his thumb. “I love you.”

Peter sniffled, wiping his nose with his sweater. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and curled around him like a koala. He leaned heavily against his dad’s chest, his breathing beginning to even out. Tony’s chest vibrated with every “I love you so much, Petey” and his ceaseless murmurs of love and comfort.

“Love you, Dad,” he said sleepily, his eyelids drooping.

A lump formed in Tony’s throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow past. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. “Petey-” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I love you so much. So damn much, okay?” He ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, kissing his temple and trying to blink his happy tears away.

Tony felt himself slowly drifting asleep. He blinked, and then his cheek was resting on his kid’s curls. His eyes closed again, and suddenly May was there, draping a blanket over them. He tried to tell her to get Peter’s special heated blanket, because his poor kid couldn’t thermoregulate and absolutely hated the cold. Then he realized that she had already tucked it around the boy and sighed in relief, finally letting himself relax.

May settled on the opposite side of Peter and wrapped an arm around him. Within minutes she was snoring quietly, but Tony was too tired to notice. A wave of joy and peace and love washed over him, and his eyes slipped shut.

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

~~~~~

Taglist: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @jami161 @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @wtfischeese @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @skydiving-without-a-parachute @yansi1923 @slytherin-hamilton-life-12 @dead-inside-pt2 @name-me-regret @zanderljones @spidy8664 @hold-our-destiny

If anyone wants to be added/ removed please let me know!

178 notes · View notes

weighty-ghosts · 3 years

Text

‘Wondering’ (wolfstar)

Wondering, by weightyghosts

“It’s late summer before their sixth year at Hogwarts, and one afternoon, Sirius, James, and Peter meet a boy their age sitting in a tree, reading a book. This boy might just be the missing piece in their lives- particularly for one of them.”

Rating: General

Word count: 2202

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: May 2, 2021

Warnings: Brief description of scar

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31049291

Whoosh!

“Sirius!” Peter whines, after almost falling off his broom, “Stop throwing it so hard at my head! I can’t catch it!”

“Sorry, Pettigrew,” Sirius snickers. He flies, if one can call it that when moving so languidly, over to where James is observing the scene from his own broom. “Come on,” he says to Peter, “Go grab it and we’ll play again. James will be keeper this time.”

“Why me?” James asks, frowning at Sirius. James is a chaser, always.

Peter pretends not to hear Sirius whisper, “Because I don’t think I can stop myself throwing the quaffle at his head.”

He groans loudly, then groans again when Sirius and James don’t react to it, busy now discussing the merits of the various quidditch positions. He turns his broom around to go look for where his old quaffle has disappeared to in the thick trees surrounding the meadow they play in. He’s moving a large leafy branch out of his way, when he almost gets smacked in the head again with his own ball.

“Oh, sorry!” A voice says quickly, and an apologetic face appears as a boy about their age lowers the quaffle, “Almost knocked me out of the tree,” he laughs softly, nodding at the ball that he holds out to Peter, “I’m guessing you want this back?”

Peter knows he’s staring, and that his mother would be very unhappy with him, but he can’t help it; this boy is sitting in a ginormous tree that’s at least forty feet high, in a cozy spot where two branches meet, with a book in his lap, looking like this is a regular afternoon for him.

Peter glances around and doesn’t see a broom anywhere. He’s wondering how this boy got up here- when he freezes. He doesn’t even breathe as he looks at this stranger who’s now tilting his head at Peter in confusion, and Peter is panicking. Did he just stumble upon a muggle? Is Peter going to get sent to Azkaban for flying on a broom in front of a muggle and breaking the Statute of Secrecy? Surely the Ministry wouldn’t send a fifteen-year-old to the dementors, right? Right?

Peter lets out a little squeak and zooms backwards as fast as he can, banging the back of his head against a small branch in the process.

James and Sirius are waiting for him when he exits the tree-line, still talking with their heads close together, but they turn when they hear him.

“Oi, where’s the quaffle, Pete?” James asks, pointedly looking at Peter’s empty hands that are gripping onto his broom for dear life.

Sirius nods at Peter’s messy head, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Why do you have so many leaves in your hair?”

“There’s- there’s a boy!” Peter stutters out.

James and Sirius glance at each other, then fly closer to Peter until their brooms are almost knocking together.

“What do you mean a boy?” James questions, “Where?”

“In the tree!”

“There’s a boy in the tree?” Sirius’ voice is laced with disbelief, “Did you hit your head Pete?”

“No! Well, yes, but it’s true!”

“Pete, what exactly did you see?” James asks. He peeks over Peter’s shoulder and squints, as if he believes he’s capable of seeing through vegetation if he just tries hard enough.

“In the tree!” Peter repeats, “He was holding the quaffle and just sitting there! In the tree! And,” he gulps, then leans in closer to his friends, “I didn’t see a broom. He must have climbed up there.”

Sirius narrows his eyes. “You think he’s a muggle?”

“I-”

“If I were a muggle-” The three boys whip their heads around in the direction of the voice wafting through the tree line, “-Don’t you think I would have been quite taken aback to see a person floating on a broomstick forty feet in the air?”

Sirius, James, and Peter look at each other for a moment, before deciding at the same time to burst through the trees, coming to a dead stop in front of the stranger who’s still holding their quaffle.

“Blimey,” James blurts, “There really is a boy in a tree.”

The boy’s eyes are alight with amusement, but he has a shy smile playing on his lips, as if he wants to laugh but doesn’t think he’s allowed to.

Peter keeps a good distance away from him, then starts to ask, “How did you get up h-”

“How do we know you’re not a muggle?” Sirius interrupts. He takes in the boy’s appearance; frayed jeans, long sleeve tee with a vinyl cover that’s been sun-bleached beyond recognition, and light golden brown hair that matches his eyes-

Sirius jolts when he realizes those eyes are staring back at him. He purposefully scowls in suspicion at this potential muggle, though, for some reason he can’t stop staring at the boy’s cheeks that have turned adorably pink.

“I don’t think muggles even know the word muggle,” the boy responds, speaking to a spot near Sirius’ shoulder.

“Where’s your wand, then?”

“Sirius, don’t be a prat,” James chides, punching his arm lightly, “Why’re you interrogating him?”

“I just think it’s interesting,” Sirius explains, returning James’ punch in kind, “Meeting someone who claims to be a wizard and looks about our age but doesn’t go to Hogwarts.”

The boy’s flush darkens and he looks away uncomfortably. As he does, his collar pulls down to reveal the top of a nasty red scar that runs vertical along his neck, stopping just below his left earlobe.

“What’s that from?” Sirius asks right away, his suspicion dissipated as curiosity takes over. The boy’s hand instinctively flies to his neck to cover it up.

“Sirius, cut it out,” James rolls his eyes, then turns to the boy and extends his hand, “Ignore him, he’s a prat. I’m James Potter, and the prat who doesn’t understand boundaries is Sirius Black, and that’s Peter Pettigrew.”

“Oh,” the boy glances uncertainly at the three of them, then stares at James’ hand as if expecting James to pull it back, but he doesn’t, so the boy tentatively reaches out and shakes it. “I-I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Cool! Want to play quidditch with us?”

“Oh,” Remus says again, genuinely surprised at the offer. He looks down at the quaffle in his hands, then holds it out to James with a frown on his face. “That's alright, I don’t have a broom.”

“Pete,” James turns to address him, “Can’t Remus here borrow your brother’s?”

“Oh, no that’s-”

“Of course!” Peter interjects Remus’ protest, “I’ll grab it now.” Peter dashes away, apparently excited by this task set out to him.

“That’s settled then,” James declares, “Pete lives close by, we've been staying with him for the week.”

“That’s nice,” Remus offers, a little awkwardly.

“So, come on!” James starts bouncing up and down on his broom in excitement, and Sirius finds it endearing how enthusiastic James gets about making new friends. “Let’s wait on the ground for Peter! You know how to play quidditch, right? And how did you get up here? Are you going to climb down?”

Remus meets Sirius’ gaze, silently asking if this is what his friend is like all the time. Sirius grins and shrugs at him, and Remus returns it with a shy smile.

“I know how to play quidditch,” Remus answers, “But I’m not very good. And yes, I climbed up here, I come here a lot. I like climbing trees.”

That blush returns to Remus’ cheeks, turning the spattering of freckles on his nose and cheekbones a reddish brown. Sirius doesn’t understand why he can’t seem to focus on anything other than those freckles.

“You shouldn’t climb down though,” he finds himself saying, “That doesn’t sound safe. I can give you a lift.”

Sirius feels James’ questioning stare on the side of his head, but then James shrugs charitably and leaves them with a quick, ‘See you down there, mates.’

“Alright,” Remus slowly agrees, his face as pink as ever, “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Sirius dismisses, flipping his hair over his shoulder. He scoots forward a bit on his broom, then sidles up next to Remus. Remus hesitates, but tucks his book into his back pocket, and reaches out to grab Sirius’ shoulder as he hitches a leg over the broom. He slides too far to one side and grabs onto Sirius’ shirt with a gasp, and Sirius’ hand flies to Remus’ thigh to steady him.

“Careful there,” Sirius chuckles awkwardly, pulling his hand back.

“Yeah, sorry,” Remus mumbles.

“It’s alright. You can, you know, hang on to me. I don’t care. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to fall off.”

He feels Remus’ soft laughter on the back of his neck, and suddenly finds it hard to breathe when Remus wraps his arms around him. Sirius shakes his head slightly and flies the two of them towards where James is waiting. His landing is a bit more rough than usual, but for reasons he doesn’t want to think about right now, he needs to put some space between himself and this boy he just met.

“Thanks,” Remus says as he climbs off the broom. There’s a glint in his golden eyes that Sirius hadn’t seen up in the tree. His smile is different too, more secretive, and Sirius doesn’t know what to make of that.

___________________________________

They spend the next hour playing their makeshift version of quidditch, then the following two hours exploring the forest and a river nearby that held strange gems at the bottom that Remus wanted to show them. The four of them seem pleased at how well they’re getting along and how easily they’re having fun together. Sirius tries to focus on their effortless dynamic instead of how strangely nervous he’s been feeling around this person. This boy. He must have stumbled no less than four times over the forest floor, and even walked into a tree at one point. Remus must think he’s the most dim-witted bloke he’s ever met.

They’re walking back to the meadow near Peter’s house, pockets full of colourful gemstones, when Remus stops walking abruptly, glancing at a rough trail that heads off in another direction.

“Okay, well...” He wavers, and the other three stop and wait for him to continue. “It was nice meeting you.” Remus smiles quickly, shuffling his feet.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Sirius asks, not knowing why Remus is feeling awkward out of nowhere, while also panicking that Remus is about to leave and Sirius will never see him again.

“Erm, not really, I mean, I should be getting home soon, my parents-”

“Never mind your parents,” James waves these concerns off, then walks over to Remus and throws a casual arm around him, “Come back to Pete’s with us! We can drink pumpkin juice and play gobstones outside.”

Remus looks at Peter, evidently questioning if James has the authority to invite someone over to his house.

“Yeah,” Peter agrees easily, “Of course you should come!”

Remus’ eyes find Sirius, and Sirius gets a little thrill out of the thought that Remus might actually care if Sirius wants him to join them.

“Pete’s mum makes great pumpkin juice,” he says quickly, “And we were planning a bonfire for tonight since James and I are leaving tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Remus smiles shyly again, “Only if you have marshmallows, though.”

“Who do you take us for, Lupin?” Sirius grins.

___________________________________

Later that night, after a lively round of gobstones and many pints of pumpkin juice, the boys are gathering wood for the bonfire, when Sirius nudges Remus to slow down and let Peter and James walk ahead of them.

“Hey,” he says in a low voice when the others are far enough away.

“Yeah?” Remus is frowning at him, a note of anxiety in his voice.

“I was just wondering,” Sirius starts, feeling more awkward than he’s probably ever been in his life, and increasingly embarrassed as Remus simply stares back at him, waiting for him to speak. “Erm, just- just wondering, since I can’t come back here for a while, if I could write to you? During the school year?”

“Oh,” Remus breaths, his features blank with genuine surprise. Then, his face breaks out into a wide smile that does something wild and strange to Sirius’ insides. “Of course. Yeah, of course. I’d love that.”

Sirius exhales a large breath that he had apparently been holding in. “Right, great. Cool.”

“Cool.”

“Oi, Black! Lupin!” James calls from somewhere up ahead, “Let’s get this fire going! Pete says we’re having a competition to see who can eat the most marshmallows!”

Sirius smiles at Remus, feeling unusually giddy, as they start walking again.

“There’s no way any of you are beating me,” Remus states confidently, surprising Sirius. “I’m the king of marshmallows.”

“Is that right?” Sirius laughs.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“I guess we will.”

___________________________________

Sirius loses the contest to Remus by one marshmallow, and despite being known for his competitive attitude, he finds he doesn’t care at all. He has a sneaking suspicion he won something much better that night, and already can’t wait until the next time he gets to see Remus Lupin again.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfic #pre-wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #harry potter au #alternate universe #remus didn't go to hogwarts #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #james potter #peter pettigrew #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #padfoot #marauders #marauders era #ficbyweightyghosts

25 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

No, It's Definitely Funny

Prompt: Can I request a second part to "Let's Call It Funny" where Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Peter unite forces to confuse and concern all the other avengers (with at least one instance where two or all of them respond to something by pretending to jump off a building?) Love you! -Auggie

Does it count as being back on my bullshit if I never left?

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for gen z humor

Pairings: it's still found family hours

Word Count: 2259

Peter’s gonna be honest, he may or may not have some competition for the funniest person in the Tower right now.

Because let’s look at the list here:

Traumatized? Everybody and their private jet’s worth of vintage and designer baggage needs therapy.

Queer? If you think Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, or Sam Wilson is straight, you need to tell them everything they’ve ever done to make you think they’re straight so they can stop doing it immediately.

Superhero? Yeah, okay, shush, now you’re being stupid.

Neurodivergent? Have you seen the way these men behave? Definitely the model of Perfectly Normal Person™, what on earth are you talking about, absolutely 100% Normal™.

The only things he’s still got going for him that the others don’t are high-schooler and trans. That’s not a lot when it comes to the fact that hey, two of them are from the Great Depression—let’s be honest, they’re the OGs when it comes to fatalistic humor—and they’ve all got years of practice.

Sure, Peter’s got some trauma-given raw talent, but it’s not refined by years and years of throwing yourself off of buildings and out of planes to avoid having conversations about your emotions.

The day Aunt Nat dropped all of SHIELD’s files on the Internet and Peter found out that Steve yeeted himself out of a plane—without a parachute!—to avoid Nat’s prodding about getting a date was the best day of his fucking life.

“Don’t you go stealing my moves there, kid,” Steve had scolded playfully, winking over the rim of his mug.

“Try and stop me, I dare you.”

“And this is why,” Tony had sighed, looking every bit his 79 years—“Hey!”—as he watches this interaction go down, “you have a parachute built into your suit.”

“I’ll just wear my old one, don’t worry about it.”

“That heinous thing that’s just a cut-up old hoodie and goggles? Peter, no, that thing is being held together with safety pins and hope!”

“I mean, me too, so it’s fine.”

“Peter!”

“Also, like, it’s the one I almost got crushed to death in, so it’s got the emotional trauma seasoning already.”

“Wait—“ Bucky had sat up— “you almost got crushed to death by a building? Sheesh, kid, you’re really flirting with the reaper, huh.”

“It wasn’t so bad, I had training from the years and years of carrying the weight of my sins crawling on my back.”

“At least ask Death for his number next time, he’s not returning my calls.”

“Sergeant, I swear to God—“

“Actually, Death uses they/them pronouns, I asked when I met them last weekend.”

“What the fuck did you do last weekend?”

“Really? Oh cool, well, can you get their number for me? We had a date back in ’45 that they missed.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“Tony, why are you screaming? Not keeping dates is a very serious matter.”

“Trust me, I speak from experience, Tony, it’s not a good habit to get into.”

“You should respect your elders and not scream while we’re talking to you, mister.”

“All of you shut the fuck up.”

See? On one hand, it’s great to have more partners in this venture of making Tony’s hair turn grey—he’s that age, it’s bound to happen any time soon now— “One more crack about my age, kid, I swear.” — but on the other hand, Peter is seriously losing his massive lead on funniest person in the Tower.

The other thing he’s worried about is Sam’s ability to make it so the others can’t actually worry about him.

Because—listen, Sam Wilson is a fucking national treasure and all you fuckers better acknowledge that. It’s no secret that the Captains take turns going out with the shield, all of them answer to ‘Captain America’ because that’s what they are, but no one—and Peter will never say this under threat of death because he does not need any more of the Steve Rogers’ Puppy Dog Eyes™, thank you very much—no one does it better than Sam.

And that means that Sam fucking Wilson can turn a fatalistic, self-deprecating joke into a motivational speech that doesn’t feel disingenuous or cliché at all and everyone is too busy processing the philosophical revelations they’re having to scold him for his, frankly, outstanding sense of humor.

It’s not fair and Peter can’t do it.

He tried. Once.

Didn’t go very well.

No, he’s not gonna talk about it, let’s just move on.

Sam has offered to catch him a couple of times when he gets himself a little too deep into the Mamma Spider™ or Iron Dad™ trap of feeeelings, and he gratefully scoots out of the way when Sam sits down next to him and just makes another joke.

Sam is also a fantastic role model for the brand of ‘I’m going to the store and only have twenty bucks, stop asking for your will to live back’ jokes.

“Hey, Pete!”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go, bodega run.”

“Can we pick up some hopes and dreams, too, all of those got scribbled out in fat red Sharpie yesterday.”

“I said bodega run, not Court of Miracles run.”

“But Sam~”

“Listen, kid, if you manage to find your hopes and dreams in this bodega, keep an eye out for your childhood innocence, that might be on the next shelf over.”

“Deal.”

“Do you two need some more therapy appointments?”

“Only got fifteen bucks, man.”

“I’m literally a billionaire!”

Peter eagerly studies under this pinnacle of humor and keeps his worries to himself.

Because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and Peter’s sense of humor is wonderful, but he is a tad intimidated by the amount of variety the others have got going for them.

“You’re a fucking terror, Spider-ling, that’s what you are.”

“Not true! I was ‘a pleasure to have in class.’”

“Oh, is that why you’re taking ‘Little Shit’ lessons from Barnes and Rogers?”

“And Sam! Don’t forget Captain Wilson, he is an invaluable part of this team. I’m surprised at your ignorance.”

“Pete—no, that’s not—“

“I’m ashamed for you, Mr. Stark.”

“Listen here you little shit—“

Anyway…

Steve and Bucky have a habit of telling these like, really awful jokes that have Peter in stitches for half an hour. It’s not fair and he doesn’t get why they’re so funny because they aren’t, and yet here he is, laughing anyway.

It’s probably some combination of Steve’s perfected innocent face that he wears when he has to do interviews and Bucky’s habit of not giving a single solitary fuck. But they’re able to make the worst jokes with completely serious expressions and it’s not fair.

“Hey, can you guys come help me with something?”

“Sure, Peter,” Steve says instantly, bounding over with his 95-year-old Golden Retriever energy as Bucky trails behind him like a cat that’s sitting in your lap because he wants to, not because he likes you or anything, “what’s up?”

“I have a history project on WWII due tomorrow and I haven’t started it yet.”

Bucky snorts, taking a swig of coffee and sitting down on the floor. Which, same. “You got your eulogy planned?”

“Drafted, sighed, notarized, but Aunt May said no so I gotta do this.”

“Well, if Aunt May says no then I guess that’s that.”

Tony, from far away in another part of the Tower, has a sickening feeling that May Parker has once again proven that she is the most powerful parent and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I, um,” Peter mumbles, fidgeting with his pen, “I want to be respectful of your boundaries, and if you don’t want to talk about anything then—“

Because it’s one thing for someone to make jokes about their trauma and another for someone else to go poking and prodding at it.

“Hey,” Steve interrupts softly, nudging him with his knee, “first off, thank you for saying that and we appreciate your respect, but we got you. You worry about enough, sweetheart, let us take care of ourselves.”

Peter gives him a look.

“When it comes to this,” Steve amends, having the decency to look a little sheepish, “we’ll take care of ourselves.”

Bucky scoffs. “Uh-huh.”

“We will, Buck.”

“My therapist will be real happy to hear that.” He looks up at Peter and winks. “Besides, what good is our trauma if we don’t pin it up and display it for good grades?”

Peter huffs, the joke undercut a little by the way Bucky knocks his foot against Peter’s and Steve’s arm stretches over the couch behind him.

Peter has to resist the urge to lean his head onto Steve’s shoulder, because then Steve’s hand will come up and ruffle his hair and Peter’s eyes will droop slowly closed as he loses himself in the warmth and safety of Steve’s embrace and then Steve will lean down to press a kiss to his temple and—

Right. Homework.

“What’s it on specifically,” Bucky asks, clearly spotting the temptation on Peter’s end, “home front? Overseas? Time period?”

“Uh, it’s an analysis of total war.”

“Like, how much of the country was devoted to the war effort?”

“Yeah, basically. It’s talking about how the Nazi War Machine made their war total and how that extends to a lot of other countries, but also about the reasons why the war was fought—“

They delve into a conversation about total war, Peter pointing out how Italy’s motivation for territory keeps it from being a total war on their part, Bucky speaking to how the different dynamics worked in various countries and the fallout, Steve bringing up how much of the home front was devoted to bringing attention to the war being fought overseas. Then, of course, as is inevitable, they devolve into storytelling.

Peter’s notebook—with notes! He did his job!—is set aside as he gives in to the need to let Steve cuddle him on the couch. Come on, the man is warm and big and gives good hugs, how is he supposed to not? Bucky sprawls out on the floor, leaning back on his hands as he smiles fondly.

“You know,” he remarks casually, “I fought a Nazi in my pajamas once.”

Peter blinks sleepily. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, though how he got in my pajamas, I have no idea.”

Peter snorts. Then he giggles. Then he’s collapsing into Steve’s side, positively sobbing with laughter.

It’s not funny.

It’s really not that funny.

But here he is, fucking dying, and he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to welcome the sweet embrace of oblivion.

“Okay, note to self,” Bucky murmurs when he’s calmed down a little, wiping away tears, “sleepy spider likes corny jokes.”

“Just don’t break our baby spider, Buck, Momma Spider would kill you in cold blood.”

“Listen, if Natasha Romanoff kills me, don’t prosecute. That’s on me.”

Peter can’t do corny jokes. He really can’t. He just sounds like he’s a recording so old it’s unintelligible and it’s bad. He has a reputation to maintain here!

However, there is one sense of humor that Peter is very eager to learn and adopt, and hey, it might actually be Iron Dad™ Approved!

It’s a rookie mistake, asking Bucky Barnes for a hand, but in his defense, Peter was left unsupervised and was distracted.

“Hey, Bucky, can you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, Peter.”

Something nudges his arm and he looks down. It’s Bucky’s metal arm, bumping up against his elbow.

It’s a cheap joke. It’s bad. It does not deserve Peter’s laughter.

He snorts anyway.

“That’s on me,” he says after a second, “you know what, that’s my fault.”

“What, is this not what you meant?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Peter scruffs a hand through his hair. He looks down at the prosthetic again. “Well, that’s disarming.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to snort. “You gotta hand it to me, though, it’s a good joke.”

Oh, it’s on.

“No, no, of course, I understand. You really can’t let an opportunity like that slip through your fingers.”

Steve chokes on his next sip of coffee. “Stop making the kid shoulder the burden of making puns with you.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Don’t palm this off on someone else, Steve, you’re as bad as he is.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Peter shrugs. “You just gotta knuckle-down and find the right one.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to reach for puns?” Bucky hefts his arm.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say a lot.”

“Jeez, Pete, good one.”

“What, are you not finding them humerus?”

Sam’s gone, Steve shortly after. Bucky just grins proudly at him.

Then there’s a massive thunk from behind them. Peter turns around to see Tony slamming his forehead into the counter.

“You are all going to kill me,” he mutters, glaring up at them, “all three of you.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark, Captain Barnes would never hurt you.”

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“After all,” Peter grins, gesturing to Bucky who is doing a very good innocent face—he must’ve been taking notes from Steve— “look at him, he’s completely armless.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker—“

Okay, so maybe it’s not Iron Dad™ Approved.

Oh, well.

#dragonbabbles #marvel #the longest running con in the mcu is people thinking steve isnt an extra hoe #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #fic

33 notes · View notes

oingo233 · 3 years

Text

Rapture is a Boy (7)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)

Warning: cussing, some school taunting/bulling?(very brief and not anything super bad, like under the cut), ABBA mania/silliness

Authors Note: For best experience I have linked the song in the song title so you can listen while you read. I wrote this in a haze of excitement, it is just so silly but I have no trouble believing the Marauders would completely embarrass themselves like this for someone they love. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.2k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part Seven

****Take A Chance On Me****

The great hall was silent, I had to actively keep my eyes off of the boys just a couple seats down. Lily was trying her hardest not to stare with longing and regret too. I placed my hand within hers and squeezed as if to say I’m here for you, and though it isn’t my fault, I’m sorry. She squeezed my hand back, returning the sentiments, and bounced back with a smile, pretending to be happier than she was. I wanted to roll my eyes at her change of mood but instead I appreciate the attempt to brighten the morning. You can always count on Lily Evans to empathize and surprise in every situation.

We heard it before we saw it. Loud, pulsing sound. As it got closer I couldn’t help the gasp that fell embarrassingly loud from my mouth. It was one of our favorite muggle bands, Abba, their song was blasting through corridors Take a Chance on Me, but there was no lyrics yet, just the background music as if waiting for the performers. Just like it had countless times before on karaoke nights with the marauders.

Suddenly, the great hall doors were slammed open by two large flying speakers, obviously charmed. A feeling of knowing washed over me and I whip my head towards the boys. Just in time to watch as they climb onto the table, their faces adorned with a beautiful blue color, Remus in gold.

Lily sucked in a deep breath beside me while watching James standing tall despite the spouts of laughter. Sirius throws off his robe, it lands on the head of a flabbergasted Gryffindor, Sirius is revealed to be wearing bright blue bell bottom sparkly pants, his white school button up is tucked underneath.

Remus was right after him, throwing off his robes and ripping off his shirt. Buttons flew onto the people around them but no one paid them any mind. All eyes were on the infamous Marauders, because Remus was now wearing a sparkly blue jumpsuit just like the ones ABBA preform in, with flare pants as to match the rest of the boys His gold lips sparkled and I had to stop myself from wanting to kiss him senseless. His eyes seemed even brighter under the gold hue of his makeup, he was golden.

Nothing was more attractive then the confidence and savvy of the boys before us(didn’t help that I had a fat crush on David Bowie and ABBA). Nothing sweeter than the way they stood and smiled at Lily and I while everyone around us laughed, pointed, whispered and some even smiling themselves.

Sirius picked up a cup by his foot, while James threw off his own robes, wearing an ABBA band shirt Lily bought him ages ago, he was wearing swaying bell bottoms too. Peter flipped his robe inside out to reveal the other side as bright blue with obviously badly glued on glitter, clusters of glitter fell on the table very time he nervously tapped his foot.

Remus brought his wand to his lips, as if a microphone and somehow the lanterns around us dimmed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, getting over the shock much faster than everyone else, but whatever he was going to say was cut off as the music started to play from the very beginning and this time the voices of four boys joined in, singing the lyrics.

The lights flashed as James sang first, his voice cracking and in the fleeting light you could see him blush. Lily slapped my arm in shock and excitement. Then light flashes again like lightning, as Sirius joined in, singing much louder, he always said he’d like to be a rock star just once (granted this is much different, but he will no doubt pretend there is no difference at all). The next light cued in Peter who sang with his eyes closed, his voice shaking with nerves but he new every line.

It wasn’t until the second verse that their voices died down and the lanterns illuminated the great hall completely again as Remus’s voice rang out strong and clear. His eyes on me. His voice took my breath away, he sounded both awful and yet beautiful.

“If you’re all alone,” he sings, “When the pretty birds have flown,” gasps join in with the music as hundreds of paper doves fly in through the doors, whizzing past me and putting my hair in array, then soaring way over my head, circling up in the ceiling. I could hear Professor McGonagall stifle both her surprise and joy. Everyone was laughing and cheering, but then silence fell again to listen. I could not take my eyes off of Remus, who in turn, would not take his eyes off of me.

“Honey, I’m still free, Take a chance on me...” He must have finished his solo part because the boys start to sing along after that and they all begin to strut down the table towards us like a cat walk. Remus stops just short of us and hops, on beat, off of the table.

Peter, James and Sirius walk right towards me. Sirius slitting his eyes and stooping low, pointing at me with one hand as he sings into the cup with the other. They all stand in front of Lily and I, hips shaking to the beat and James has eyes for Lily only. All the boys sang to us in union.

“If you need me, let me know, gonna be around,” Sirius eye’s turning oddly soft as they sang, “If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down.“

Then they quickly turn towards the crowd again, but I felt it. I felt their hidden apology. For the first time in days I felt some of my anger and sadness slip from me, with every lyric, and every bright, bashful smile. My anger left me as they sang and embarrassed themselves for the sake of a grand apology.

Lily started to laugh. She doubled over and tried to hide her smile with a hand but it was just too ridiculous, all of it really was. James did a double-take when he saw this, then he broke out into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, and his voice no longer sounded so shy. I start giggling myself as Sirius jumps off the table like a rock n roller and dances over to Minnie and Dumbledore, their foot tapping did not go unnoticed by him.

James waltz over to Lily and bows low before her, extending his arm, he sings “We can go dancing,” Lily giggled and takes his hand, she surprises everyone and joins in

“We can go walking,” She sings. James smirks and carries on with a raised brow.

“As long as we’re together...” Then he runs with her past the table, his pants waving and tossing, Lily’s laughing uncontrollably by his side, joining in indefinitely for the song. Remus’s voice still rang loudest over the boys, my eyes searching for him in the room, I seem to have lost him in the commotion of others jumping up and dancing, and the sweet moment between James and Lily.

Then their voices left the serenade and once more it was just Remus. He sounded so close to me, I turned around and my heart did a back flip. He was right behind me, smiling sadly as he say...

“When I dream I'm alone with you, it's magic You want me to leave it there Afraid of a love affair But I think you know that I can't let go” Remus sings, everyone falling quite again as the lights dim once more and a single light is glowing above us. It was in the shape of a white butterfly, and a shooting star darting around it. The great hall grew silent once more. Dumbledore’s voice was heard quietly singing the song, for the music has died down, Minnie hit him and watched us anxiously.

She only grew tenser as Remus sang without music, he looked so vulnerable under the soft white glow and under the eyes of everyone in the room. But above that, he was being vulnerable to me, his voice more of a plead than song.

“If you change your mind, I'm the first in line Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me If you need me, let me know, gonna be around If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down,” He finished with baited breath, despite his lungs begging for more, he was too focused on what I would do next. I take a deep breath and stop fighting the feelings inside of me. I smile brightly up at him, using my own wand, I bring it up to my lips like a microphone too.

“If you’re all alone, when the pretty birds have flown. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.” I sing. Remus’s face lights up with bubbling laughter and pure joy. He takes me in his arms and spins me around, while we embrace the music and lights are back on and everyone in the great hall is singing. Minnie and Dumbledore included, she is smiling at us.

Remus stops spinning and is just standing before me now, very still, as if he was debating whether this is all a dream or not. His glittering eyes boring into mine with such strong emotions I felt trapped, utterly entranced. The words of the song rush through me like the wind, he grabbed my hand softly, and led us both on top of the table.

“Let me tell you now. My love is strong enough, To last when things get rough, it’s magic.” As he sings those sweet words, magic fireworks erupt above us in little cheesy hearts of red. Students around us are overjoyed, up themselves and twirling around, dancing. Many gasped and awed at the fireworks, but nothing was more astonishing than what happened next.

****

Now, was what happens next petty? Yes. Did it land all of the Marauder detention? Yes. Did any of us enjoy the scene any less? Not at fucking all...

****

All the birds swooped down in a cloud of white, their paper wings rustling against one another. They moved like the wind, swooping as one to the right side of the room and then drifting swiftly to the left until they got lower and lower. Until they were right over Lucy Diamond.

I stopped dancing with Remus and stood still, along with most of the students and teachers I was watching the birds. But Remus was still singling softly into my ear, his voice dripped with mischief, the other boys still sang as well, sounding just as suspicious, but otherwise unbothered.

Then the birds broke formation and with every hit of the drum a bird flew down over the top of Lucy’s head, and very quickly shits something atop her head. Each one falls softly, it does not hurt her, but upon impact they break open and release the most god awful smell. Lucy can’t stop screaming, she tries to get up and run but the birds follow her out the door.

Stink bomb after stink bomb was dropped atop her head. The Great Hall was alive with laughter, but perhaps the loudest of all, was my own. Remus was stilling humming in my ear, highly amused he let himself watch too until Lucy was gone from sight.

“Oh, Remus,” I say, laughing loudly, “That is evil.” He laughs too, looking down at me he shrugs. We look at each other and nod, “She deserves it.” We say in union before laughing again.

But then the music screeched to a halt, silence overtook us in waves and drowned us as Dumbledore stood up, his wand being tucked back into his robes.

“Mr.Remus Lupin,” he starts slowly, his low voice gathering everyone’s attention, “Mr.Sirius Black. Mr.James Potter and Mr.Peter Pettigrew. I assume this is of your doing?” He inquires, though the answer is obvious. The boys swallow thickly, nodding their heads. I squeeze Remus’s hand and he shoots me a quick, lopsided smile. Everyone was feeling a bit uneasy, maybe even guilty.

“mmmh,” He nods, “Thought so. Though I always appreciate a dance number, the stink bombs are what concern me most. The four of you will have detention this afternoon, and whatever else Professor McGonagall deems appropriate.” He sits back down, and the student body are unsure of where the look. At Dumbledore, Minnie, or the boys in trouble.

“Yes, Professor.” They all say at once. After a while of the stiff silence everyone goes back to their seats. It wasn’t long before everyone was talking animatedly about what just happened.

“I’ve never seen a thing like it...”One says.

“The makeup’s nice, innit?”

“Yeah, but the pants are god awful.” “Nonesense, have you ever even seen ABBA?’’

Lily and I find ourselves sitting next to the boys again, stupefied by the whole event. I felt overjoyed and confused and surely surprised. I never thought in all my life, I’d be lucky enough to see the Marauders perform ABBA in such attire, at Hogwarts nonetheless.

“So..whatcha’ think? Think I’ll make a good rock star, huh? I knew it was for me.” Sirius starts, flaunting his bandana and not bothering to put his robe back on.

“I didn’t know I had it in me. Merlin, did ya see me shaking, Remus?” Peter says excitedly. Remus turns to him with a bright smile, nodding his head.

“All of ya were just great. Peter memorized the footwork better, though.” Remus says, James wacks his arm.

“Did not, I worked hard on that. Lily liked it. Didn’t cha?” James turns to Lily, who much like me, is still blushing mad. She can only nod. We were still trying to process our shock, and Remus’s golden lips and glowing eyes weren’t making it any easier for me. I’m sure the blue on James had the same affect on Lily.

“But..uhm,” Remus clears his throat, looking rather nervous he turns to me now, “What did you think of it?” He fidgets while I looked for my answer, smiling at the mere memory of minutes ago.

“I thought it was...grand! Shocked me half to death ya did!” I can’t help my voice raising and contorting with my waves of emotions, happy, surprised, impressed and underneath it all, discontent. I lean into Remus, he leans into me, so his ear is close to my mouth, just like when we’d whisper in class. The others talk around us, but we fall into our own world.

“But I need more than just a song, Remus. I need answers. A real conversation, ya know?” I ask, nervous he’ll take it wrong. His actions proved how much he wanted me back, hell he was willing to tarnish his reputation and mortify himself in front of everyone for me. I wanted to make it work just as much, so I hoped he understands that for this to work, we need honesty. He nods eagerly behind me, turning to me with a soft smile.

“I know. You deserve nothing less than the whole truth. Because you’re right, I’ve never cheated on you once,” I nod at him, I’ve gathered that much from Sirius and James’s comments, but my heart still felt lighter at the confession, “But I have been lying to you.” My heart sank at his words and I sat in silence, waiting for more. He took in my reaction and rushes out the rest, as if scared I’ll leave him again. “But I plan on never lying to you again, starting with tonight. After my detention. And (y/n)... I am so sorry for everything that has happened between us.” The intensity in his eyes glue me in place even as the bell chimes, signifying the end of breakfast.

“Here, take this.” He slips a note into my hand, kissing me on the cheek. “It has everything you need to know for my...full apology.” He glances uneasily at the staring students and we both turn to the sound of James’s voice calling for Remus. Remus gives him a thumbs up and turns towards me again.

“I’ve got to go...er change out of this.” He says, shaking his leg as the pants float and toss around his ankles, I throw my head back and laugh. Taking him in fully, his chest hair poke out from the v-neck and the suit covered the rest of him tightly. He looked both hot and ridicules.

“Yes, please do.” I say, but take his hand and twirl him. He twirls with a blush, doing a little dance with his shoulders as he does. He stumbles slightly and I steady him, low and behold he was wearing platforms too. I can’t help but laugh once more. “But keep the get up, yeah? Not too shabby, Mr.Remus Lupin.” I take on the tone of Dumbledore at the end and he laughs.

“See you in first period?” He asks, anxiety slipping through his voice again. It was still weird for us to be talking again, yet all too natural.

“Of course not, when have I ever seen you in the class we share together?” He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm, but doesn’t bother to fight his huge smile, the same one that hasn’t left his face since we danced atop the table.

“I embarrass myself in front of the whole bloody school and ya still have all that sass. Guess we’ll have to fix that later then.” He says, suggestively winking. I laugh and push him towards the great hall doors, we were some of the few people still there.

“Don’t try and seduce me dressed as Benny Andersson, and especially when I’m still mad at you. Cause I am still mad at you, ya know?” I say, our moods sobering slightly. He smiles sadly.

“I know,’ He says, sighing he glances back at boys who are already walking up the stairs, ready to change and beyond waiting with how many people are taking pictures and laughing. “But I will make it up to you, I promise.” He gives me one last smile before turning around and racing up the stairs.

I smile to myself and shake my head, re-playing the events in my mind and reminding myself to ask for some of those moving pictures of the boys. I meet up with Lily and together we walk to class, we can’t shut up about what happened.

Several times we’ve recounted it to one another and made so many jokes we were crying with laughter by the time we reached class. She left me by the door, to make her way to her class not too far from mine. While I waited for Remus and the other boys to walk through the door I pulled out the note Remus gave me and read the contents.

Dear (y/n),

At 8 tonight make your way over to Hagrid’s hut. He’s always had an abundance of creature around there.

All my love to you,

Remus

I tucked the note away with curiosity bubbling all throughout me until I had to bounce my leg in an attempt to calm myself down. I’ve went through far to much emotion in this short morning. This day will go by slowly I take it.

Suddenly, Minnie walks through the door to personally inform our teacher that Remus, Sirius and James will not be attending this morning. Part of their punishment requires them elsewhere. I sigh and slump in my chair, a long day indeed.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess @1975weasley @nicodoesntexist @goto-hi-this-is-my-brain @yoyoitsbella @ftwert @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @blackpinkdolan

@holdenviolet @katie-lupin05 @acoustic-archie @trishizzl @accio-willtolive-lmao @ilistentotayswifttocope

#young remus imagine #remus lupin #young remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #young marauders #marauders era fic #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagines #remus angst #fluff #ABBA #jily #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew

98 notes · View notes

scvrllet · 4 years

Text

fairtytales / j.p

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James always loved fairytales but one day, he finally learns why he shouldn’t believe in them so much

Prompt: “I can’t pretend about something that feels too real.”

This is a submission for @approved-by-dentists‘ writing challenge which I’m so sorry for taking forever to finish

James Potter Tags: @hec1930 @jellybeanduck99 @jjklefttoe @mads-bri @dracoo-malfoy @niniabc

General HP Tags: @birdie-writes @lunaralpha270 @tinylumpiaa @slytherin-chaser @bloodblossom73 @pcseidcnsvoid @mischiefsemimanaged @accio-rogers @iamak20 @klaus-m-trash @obsessedwithrandomthings @susceptible-but-siriusexual @masterofthedarkness @lupins-sweater @hariosborn @vernon-dursley @slytherinwriter618 @missmulti @sambucky8 @a-c-lee @criesinlies @sokkasdarling

Permanent Tags: @sleep-i-ness @emmaloo21 @62442-am @flowersgrewbackasth0rns @un-limit-edd @angelicbabybutterfly @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @aliyahcat111 @hogswartshoe22

Key: (Y/H/C) = your house colour

White lily flower petals littered the green grass, acting as an aisle for the bride to walk down as the guests waited impatiently in their seats.

James was probably the most anxious out of everyone there. He had been in-love with you since sixth year back at Hogwarts and now here he was waiting for you to arrive at the wedding.

Silver chairs were wrapped with pieces of white and ivory fabric, a combination you’ve always adored, and white tulips lined the aisle. There was a makeshift stage in front of them, where the bride and groom would stand and finally be one. The setting looked like something straight out of a fairytale.

After a few minutes, you had apparated along with your parents. Since it was still in the midst of a war, you opted out of the traditional wedding dress your parents had wished for and opted for a simple but elegant dress instead. James held his breath as he watched your father walk you down the aisle and right pass him.

***

Christmas was always your favourite holiday. Back home with your parents, the days counting down to Christmas were spent together as a family and gift exchanges were the best. You would’ve thought that this tradition would end after you got accepted into Hogwarts but your muggle parents had managed to get used to using the owl and were able to share the experience with you.

With Christmas just a week away, your parents had already sent 7 owls, making the house elves who tended to the school owls very exhausted, and were sending another owl soon.

“They seem to really enjoy using owls.” James said as he watched an owl fly in through the Common Room and drop off a package into your lap.

“I thought they would’ve been wary of using animals to send stuff but turns out I was wrong.” You replied as you opened the paper package. Since you were away from school, your parents had decided to switch the order of activities you’d all do. You were supposed to be baking cookies with your mom while your dad sang Christmas songs around the kitchen on this day.

Inside the package were two knitted sweaters, one a deep crimson and the other a (Y/H/C). Raising a brow at the second sweater, you searched the package for a note and found it in-between the two.

Dear (Y/N),

Hi honey, your father and I hope you’re doing well at school.

We know that today was supposed to be baking but we’ve heard that it’s been getting pretty cold up there in the highlands so we decided to send you your sweater earlier. Your father had also decided to knit an extra one for that James boy you’re always mentioning. We hope you both like them and we can’t wait to have you back home in two days!

Love you. Mom and dad. P.S: Why not bring James home for Christmas? We’re always happy to have guests over.

“You alright there (Y/N)?” James asked, causing you to look at him. You hadn't noticed that you were so focused on the letter in front of you until James pointed it out. “What’d they send today?”

“Oh just sweaters. They also knitted one for you.”

James' face lit up and he practically dived into the spot beside you on the couch to grab said sweater. He held it up to look at it before quickly putting it on. It fit him perfectly.

He had always loved the sweaters your parents knitted so now that he was able to have one of his own he couldn’t seem to hide the smile that graced his features. It suited him, both the sweater and the smile. He smiled often but it was more mischievous but this one was genuine. You liked seeing him like this.

“I need to thank them. What’s a good gift I could get them?” James' question broke you out of your daydream.

“You could come over?” It sounded more like you were reading off of a script rather than just asking him. Merlin why were you so nervous around this boy.

“What?”

“For Christmas dinner. My parents wanted to invite you to our Christmas dinner. You don’t have to go of course, they were just suggesting it since I-”

“I’d love to.”

Realizing what you were about to reveal, you were thankful for James cutting you off. You simply smiled at him and tried your best to contain your excitement as he went back to marveling at the sweater.

“Bollocks, I have practice in ten,” James sighed. Pulling the sweater off his head you couldn’t but stare at the bit of exposed skin as his undershirt rose. “I’ll see you after practice love. Oh and the dinner! Send me an owl what time.” He said as he ran out of the Common Room a little too loudly. A few students shushed at him but by then he was already running down the halls towards the changerooms.

***

“(Y/N) are you done yet?” Your mother called from downstairs.

You were in your bathroom after your sixth outfit change of the night. For some reason the first five outfits weren’t what you had envisioned them to look like. After an hour of hair, makeup and six outfit changes, you finally felt content with your appearance and was finally ready to go downstairs.

James was supposed to arrive in less than an hour which meant you had more than enough time to get the table set and help put up any last minute decorations. Perhaps your parents took Christmas a little too seriously you thought to yourself, looking out the window at the giant candy canes and lights that lit up the entire yard. It looked like something out of a bloody Christmas story.

“I’ll get it!” Your father announced after hearing the doorbell ring. Your mother chuckled and walked to join him at the door while you stood behind them, silently praying that they won’t embarrass themselves in front of the boy they knew you liked.

“You must be James.” You heard your father say in a monotone voice. From the small space between your parents, you could see James' charming smile falter as he grew nervous.

“Yes sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N).” He said, surprisingly without stuttering, as he offered his hand out for them to shake.

“Come in dear, you must be freezing.” Your mother said. Pushing your father to the side, she pulled him inside and offered to hang up his jacket. He politely declined and did it himself.

Your father looked back at you and nodded at you causing you to roll your eyes. Tonight was going to be interesting.

“(Y/N)!” You heard James call out. Turning your head in his direction, you watched as he approached you with open arms and a smile. Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him into a warm hug which made you shiver when you realized that he was freezing. “I got this for you and your parents.” He said as he handed you a fairly large gift bag.

Setting it on the couch, you opened it up to see a few bottles from his parents beauty line along with some baked goods. He even bought two candles in your favourite scent and candy. He knew you too well.

“Dinner is ready!”

Perhaps your parents were a little too excited for this dinner. Their eyes went wide as they watched James pull out the chair for you before taking the one beside you, facing your parents. While your father grabbed food for himself and your mom, James filled up your plate with foods he knew you liked. Your parents shared a knowing look before starting to pester the poor boy with questions.

The questions started off as generic: What are your goals, what is your plan for the future, what are your favourite classes, what house are you in and etc. Your parents acted as if they hadn’t already known the answer to these questions due to the amount of times you’ve told them about him.

“Are you dating anybody?” Your father had decided to ask, ignoring how your eyes went wide and signed for him to stop.

“Oh I actually am.” James replied and your father raised a brow. Your mother looked both shocked and hurt for you. “She’s in Gryffindor like me, Lily Evans. We’ve been dating for two weeks so far.”

“That’s great, I’m sure she’s lovely.” Your mother quickly regretted saying that as the rest of the dinner was spent talking about Lily Evans. James would not shut up for a second talking about how lovely and amazing she was that you were more than relieved when he noticed the time and had to leave.

After the door closed behind him, your parents barely had a chance to call for you as you ran up the stairs and into your room. You didn’t come out until the following afternoon when they bribed you with waffles despite it being 3 pm.

***

After the Christmas dinner with James the news of his new relationship quickly spread. You started isolating yourself from him, not that you had to even try considering he’d spend all his time with Lily. As weeks went by you’d start talking to Remus, who you grew a sibling-like relationship with the more you talked ot each-other. It started off with complaining about how James essentially ditched you and his friends to spend all his time with Lily and barely even remembering to say hi to them. Then as it progressed you both started to actually spend time with each-other and talk without any mention of James Potter or Lily Evans.

During this time, James' two other friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, were still trying to get a word with James but after one too many failed attempts, decided to join Remus. You quickly befriended them both, just like how you did with Remus, and the four of you spent if not all, most of your free time outside of classes together. It was like you had replaced the void James’ left in their group.

Before his relationship, James was often said to act like a mother to the boys but when you joined, it was actually Remus who became the mother hen. He was the one nagging you to study and telling Sirius to actually pay attention in class and stopping Peter from wanting to raid the kitchen every other hour. As much as he’s grown to love you, he did not hesitate to complain about how childish you acted but you would only stick your tongue out at him before finally starting to do what you were supposed to. You really did become the sister he never had and despite him getting annoyed every few minutes, he truly did love you and wanted the best for you.

Maybe that was why he had snapped at James when the boy came crawling back to his friends. News spread like wildfire around Hogwarts that James had broken up with Lily and despite you being one of the first few people to hear about it, you didn’t care.

“What do you mean I can’t tell her?” James asked. Remus and Peter were in their dorms, previously in a conversation before James barged into the room asking for their forgiveness of how he’s been treating them the past few months.

“I said, you’re not going to tell (Y/N) that you’re in-love with her.” Remus replied calmly before turning back to Peter.

“But why.”

“Because she’s dating Sirius now that’s why!” James fell silent and could only look at Remus in shock. “The two people you’ve hurt the most are together now. And they’re happy as well so there is no way in hell I’m going to let you ruin it.”

“Moony I’m in-love with her, what do you want me to do.?”

“Suck it up. Act like you’re not. You were amazing at completely ignoring us for the past few months anyways.”

“This is different I can’t pretend about something that feels too real. Moony you’ve got to understand that I’m in-love with her.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Remus said as he stood up. Regardless of how much he loved his friend, he not only hurt him but others in ways that no one deserved to ever go through. “Because I’m not letting you ruin what they have going on. You actually had a chance, back when she gave you that sweater. She was still in-love with you until-”

“The dinner.”

Remus nodded and motioned for Peter to stand up. “I’m sorry.” He said before walking out the door with Peter in tow.

James watched as his friends left the room. He didn’t even know he was crying until he had tasted the tears on his tongue but just like his feelings, he realized a little too late.

***

You walked right past him and onto the makeshift stage with the help of your husband-to-be, Sirius Black. Standing behind him was Remus, the best-man, who had a bright smile as he watched his two best-friends finally get married.

James tried his best to be happy. He really did. But how was he supposed to be happy when he was attending the girl he’s been in-love with for years, especially when he wasn’t the one she was getting married to. Sure he was able to make amends with them but that was about it. He went back to being her friend when he could’ve been more. He was even given the chance at one point but he blew it. This is all my fault. He thought to himself as he watched the newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Black walk back down the aisle as the guests threw petals in the air.

The scene before him looked like an image straight out of a fairytale. James used to love hearing fairytales growing up but today he learned something about them; they aren’t real.

#clarissas400challenge #james potter #james potter au #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fic #james potter angst #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james oneshot #james ansgt #james x reader

341 notes · View notes