#Peter’s first question being ‘were you guilty’ like he doesn’t even for a second believe the charges

[nathanbellamy]

Giffing notable moments from the xmen scripts, pt 3

(*, 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11)

[alldayangst]

love someone for loving you (Peter Parker)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Soulmate and uni AU.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x reader, Brad Davis x reader (for like, a second)

Warnings: Makeout sessions. Characters drink but they’re of age to do so in this fic. Peter says ACAB and if you disagree with that & can’t have a mature convo about it, then this isn’t the blog for you. This fic isn’t all the way accurate to the MCU timeline. Harry [Osborn] and MJ live in Queens. Betty, Flash, Ned, Brad, Peter and reader all attend NYU in Brooklyn.

Thank you for reading if you make it all the way to the end! Word count: 4.2K words.

Happy reading!

“You’re so fucking hot, y’know that?” You were making out with Brad in your dorm room, with the lights off. Brad was a nice enough guy. Had taken you out on a few dates. Told you your hair was pretty. Said he’d like to get to know you more. But you’re not as eager to take things further because something in your heart just knows he’s not your soulmate. And you’d like to wait a little while for the novelty to wear off before you did something you regretted and entered a relationship you’d known was doomed from the start. “So fucking hot.” Brad kissed along your neck, big sloppy wet ones that left saliva trails from his lips to your neck. 

You didn’t like that kind. 

And that was another reason you knew you and Brad weren’t destined, because your soulmate would just know what you like, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

It’s then that Brad tries to take your jumper off, but your soulmate tattoo is on your ribcage, and in this world, letting someone see your soulmate tattoo is probably makes you more vulnerable than getting naked in front of them. You try to pull your jumper down, but Brad doesn’t get the hint and tries again. You place your hands on his chest. “Not today, Brad.”

You don’t see Brad again. And maybe Brad was your soulmate because he led you to Peter. But Peter definitely wasn’t your soulmate, and I’ll tell you why you know that.

“Y/N!” Betty waved as you stumbled back into the party, shoes placed on improperly and no part of you subtle to what you’d been doing with Brad in your room just a few minutes ago. “Not you out of your room so early!” Your room door slammed behind you as Brad left your room, jacket in hand.

“Didn’t get any?” Betty made a fake pout at you, smoke breezing past her face as you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as you found yourself in a circle with two of Betty’s friends she’d had yet to introduce you to. Sometimes, you wished Betty was your soulmate, but Betty made it clear before you signed the lease that you weren’t her type and truly, you couldn’t see yourself being anything more than friends. And you were the best of friends. Meaning she’d always be the first to comment heart eyes under your pictures and tell you to get that outfit because your booty was doing the thang in that pair of trousers. 

Things would just be easier, if they were easy.

But things weren’t handed on a silver plate for you like they were for others; where they’d been friends with their soulmates since childhood, or lived up the street from them or their soulmate saved their life or something else blindly obvious. And, desperate to find the gold in the treasure chest, you moved upstate to school at NYU. Because great minds and all that. You stood in perfect silence for a minute, chaos never ceasing to happen around you, before Betty decided to make the strangers next to her strangers no more. One shook your hand and said, “I’m Ned.” Oh. So this is who Betty had been raving about? Betty grimaced and placed her hands together to plead with you not to expose her consuming infatuation with her new boyfriend. In a bid to divert the focus, Betty patted the back of the slightly taller one next to Ned, with wispy brown hair and eyes like fresh, raw cocoa. “I’m Peter, nice to meet you.” He shook your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You sway your attention back to Ned with a smirk on your face, Betty clutching her solo cup a little too hard, her inner monologue begging you to knock it off. You knew Betty was going to get you back for this, but you needed somewhere else to fixate your gaze since you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to ogle at Peter. With Brad’s saliva on your neck and having only known him for all of twenty seconds, you weren’t sure if Peter would take to any romantic advances. You weren’t even sure if he’d met his soulmate. “So, I’ve heard a lot about you, Ned.”

“All good I hope.” Ned replies and the room glints with his boyish grin.

“Well-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and it was probably for the better. Betty grabbed Ned’s arm, vodka making tiny puddles on the floor, with a huge fake smile plastered on her face. In turn, that only gave you a great, genuine smile, loving to tease your friend. “Baby! We should go to another side of the party!”

“What about Peter?” Ned’s voice was getting lost in the jungle of party goers. “Peter can come.” Peter turned to go follow his friend, but not before mumbling a low, “See you around, Y/N.”, snaking his arms around your back, pulling you in for a quick hug. “See you around, Peter.” 

He didn’t reply. Peter could only give you a thin lipped smile, packaged with a lazy half-nod before he was absorbed by the population around him, just as his friend was. And you cursed yourself that night for not taking your chances and saying more.

History was an 8am class, your only class in the morning. You woke with a a dull ache in your head and a dark mark on your neck that lasted longer than your relationship with the guy that gave it to you. The last thing you wanted was to run into Brad. But destiny offered you the next best thing.

“Oh. Hi, Flash.” You attempted to cover your face with your copy of Romeo & Juliet - if your soulmate was here, the last person you wanted them to see you with was Flash Thompson. Flash was walking backwards as you were walking forwards, unamused by his efforts to corner you. “Can we talk, Y/N?” Flash was Brad’s best friend, so you knew you were in for trouble.

“Can’t Brad speak to me himself? His mouth was working last night.”

“I can see that Y/N. Nice hickey.” You cringed, and Flash could tell he was running out of time to bemuse you. “Brad doesn’t want to bother you if you’re not interested-”

“Oh, so you decide to bother me instead.” You remark, and hop over a couple of steps so Flash had to awkwardly speed up.

“I just wanted to ask where you and him stood. Like, are you breaking up with him? I thought you had a pretty good thing going on.” His pace started to slow again as you slowly ascended up some of the last sets of steps. “I mean, seriously Y/N? What if you guys were soulmates? I wouldn’t wanna give up so easily.”

“That’s true.” You looked down at your sneakers. You hated this version of the world you lived in. Everything was driven by concepts, whether it be the concept of soulmates or the concept of time that left your campus filled with students five years older than they really were, or the concept of good and evil that spawned superheroes who you weren’t sure did more damage to the world than they gave back.

Overall, the concept of fate was once you had to always wrestle with. And you thought that maybe yours was standing at the top of the steps to rescue you from this conversation, ready to make Brad feel the trip of the guilt he and his friend tried to make you feel for not feeling the same way. “Y/N! We have class, c’mon!” Peter waved his goggles at the top of the steps, a knowing smile on his face as Flash looked up at him and glared. 

Peter just had to steal his thunder on a sunny day.

You ran to meet Peter at the top of the steps. “Thank you for bailing me out. You’re a hero.”

Peter was startled. “Who, what, when, where, me?” He scratched the back of his neck and gave you an uncomfortable, stammered loop of laughter. “Hero? Not me. I’m just good ol’ Peter.”

You chuckled as you breathed out another ‘thank you’ and returned the hug Peter had left un-exchanged last night. “I’m guessing you have bio?”

“Guilty as charged. So what’s your major?”

“English Lit.”

“Oo, how long are you planning to work at Starbucks?” Peter remarked as he held to the main door open for you. “Peter?” He hummed in response. “Fuck you.”

You sat next to Betty in History, the professor droning on about something that made you question why you continued to take History, but as your best friend snatched your book from you, you were reminded. “Star crossed lovers, eh?” Betty skimmed through the fights and the love scenes that all culminated to the uncertainty whether Romeo and Juliet were even supposed to be together. 

“Seems like you and Ned these days, huh.” You couldn’t believe that it had taken Betty three months to allow you to meet Ned, nevermind his cute friend. Ever since the ‘boyfriend’ label had been slapped on their little love affair a month and a half ago, you were beginning to see less and less of your best friend. It felt like two people paying for a single household, and with your lease ending in a short time, you worried Betty would almost evaporate from your life completely.

“Almost.” Betty tried to keep it hush, sheepishly grinning, but gave in completely in record time. “We said we’re gonna show each other our tattoos tonight!” She squealed, another student shushing her from the row above.

“Woah, that’s big!” It genuinely felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You realised you’d never gotten as far as Ned and Betty without either you or you partner showing your soulmate tattoo; and when they were never the same, you broke it off. “What if they’re not the same?”

“They will be.” Betty smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

Two loners getting together was never a recipe for success. Betty had given over your number to Ned, who handed it over to Peter, who’d texted you asking for you to come over: ‘wanna make it up to me for this morning at the steps? my bestie is with your bestie, so u wanna get pizza? do you like pineapple?’ 

Sure enough, you were over at Ned & Peter’s within ten minutes, Peter swinging the door open dressed in a tight red and blue top, a hoodie sparsely covering it, with an overexcited greeting of “Mi casa es su casa!”

The energy wasn’t returned. Not just yet. You had to be sure of something first. “Don’t tell me that there’s an American flag top under that hoodie.” Peter looks down at his Spidey suit which he’d completely forgotten he had on between scaling the ceiling in anxious anticipation of your text back. “Having such a boner for the USA is kind of a turn off.”

Peter started cussing under his breath and quickly turned to zip his hoodie all the way up. When he turns back to you, it’s word vomit. “I’m not saying I don’t love this country, I mean, I love Queens. I mean-”

You raise your eyebrows, curious to see where Peter would go with this. “The NYPD fucking hates me,”

“And what would they want with your little ass?” You walk into the apartment. He’d never admit it, but Peter kind of likes the way you bust his balls. It puts him on the spot, makes him want to tell the truth to you about who he really is.

“I mean, I can’t really say-”

“OK. I don’t wanna be an accessory to anything so,” You laugh. “I won’t push. ACAB.” There’s a thud that follows you closing the door. 

“I agree. ACAB.”

A few hours pass with Peter and he’s beginning to unravel. He shows you the photos he’s taken over the years, several of them featuring a fair haired boy you’d never seen around campus before. “Is he your soulmate?”

Peter nearly chokes on the coffee he’d prepared for himself. “No. Harry? In his dreams.” He sets his mug down. “No, uh, that’s my friend. He lives back home in Queens.”

“You say back home like Queens isn’t a 10 minute drive from where we are.”

“Yeah. But it’s not right here.” You weren’t sure if you’d bruised Peter’s feelings, so you move onto another photo. There’s a polaroid that makes a thin pile with another on the table.

It’s the New York City skyline, from all the way up.

“How’d you get a photo from all the way up here?” Peter grabs the photo underneath it, but not before you catch a glimpse. The glossy paper is adorned with an image of a beautiful girl, black necklace around her neck, the scribbles underneath her photo reading ‘MJ, Pre-blip’.

You think this girl is too gorgeous to just be a friend.

But judging by the way Peter reacted when you suggested Harry was the same, you kept quiet. He didn’t want you to see it anyway. 

“I’m really sticky and I climb up walls.” Peter being Peter is relieved he told you the truth, even if you didn’t know it.

“You’re weird, kid.” You thought you were being smooth, but you couldn’t help the way you look at his lips like they hold the answer to every question you’d had in your life.

“Uh-huh. But you like a bit of weird. Maybe Brad was too square for you.”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

And then when you and Peter kiss, you suddenly understand what poets mean when they call your lips jigsaw puzzles, because yours and Peter’s slot perfectly together. And you get why there’s all these love songs on the radio, and you feel the Earth shift in your mind and you just know this is the unmistakeable indicator that Peter is your soulmate. Another reason you and Peter are destined, when he goes to kiss your neck, it’s like soft little hot touches. 

You liked that kind. 

And a soulmate would just know that, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

Peter rests his forehead on your own, lips swollen. “I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You and Peter cuddle for the rest of the night on his sofa, Ned and Betty doing the same on yours. And the novelty picks back up like clockwork.

“Peter? What if we aren’t soulmates?” you groaned, Peter’s hand on your head, keeping you snug to his chest. You and Peter had been dating close to two months now, Ned and Betty moving to five. In any other relationship, you would’ve called this phase The Ticking Time Bomb. You toyed with the black dahlia that sat perfectly between his pecs. Peter had been to Queens last week. He’d retrieved his necklace from the girl in the photo, MJ. She was an old friend, he said. Him and her? Not meant to be. Maybe in another life, he’d say. Another timeline. Then he’d gesture between the two of you. This. This is meant to be. Us.

Peter shrugged. “What if we weren’t?” Peter had an almost permanent bandage on his ribcage, exactly where your soulmate tattoo was. Where and how Peter got injured was a mystery to you, and he’d never dare tell you no matter how much you pushed. It almost made you wonder if he was keeping any more secrets from you.

You propped yourself up, both hands on his chest. 

“I couldn’t move back in with Betty. She and Ned are soulmates, they need their privacy.”

“Who said you’d ever to move back in with Betty?”

“I couldn’t afford to live by myself, Peter. Not everyone had a Stark internship in high school.”

“Who said you’d have to move out at all?”

“If we’re not soulmates-” Peter moved your hands from his chest and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you in for a loving kiss. “What have I told you? You and me, we’re meant to be. Us.”

But you didn’t have the tattoos to prove it. 

You and Betty were sitting in History class, ignoring the professor’s droning as per usual. Betty had this beaming smile on her face and you were sure if she didn’t say what was on her mind soon, she was going to explode all over someone’s Henry VIII’s notes.

“Betty?”

“Yeah?” She shrieked with scarlet cheeks.

“Spill.”

Betty let out a breath. “Well, since you insisted.” You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend. “I think Ned might propose tonight!”

“I feel like you should be taking me out to dinner before you dump all this load on me.”

Betty’s eyes glazed over, obviously too excited to contain her emotions. “What about you and Peter? The tattoos must match up since you’ve stayed around this long.”

“Actually, I-”

Betty makes an O face at you, which told you she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “C’mon. You haven’t played I’ll Show You Mine if you Show Me Yours?” Betty was in awe. “Y/N! You must really like him.” 

You did really like Peter. That was the issue. You weren’t ready to feel jaded if your tattoos didn’t match up like they all inevitably did in the past. You felt something different for Peter. Betty was right. That was why you stuck around this long. “Hey Betty, is my old room still my room if things between me and Peter don’t work out?”

“Of course, Y/N! I’m here for you til’ the end of the line.” Betty pulled you into a great, big hug.

“OK. Session dismissed.” Your professor echoed. “Everyone can go. Y/N and Betty, stay after please.”

You’d gotten kicked off of History, which was bittersweet. Seeing as History was Betty’s major, your professor had to keep her there - but he was sure ‘she’d flourish once you two were separated.’  

You and Betty walked out of the main entrance, Ned and Peter both waiting for you under the shelter at the top of the steps. Seasons had changed. It was far from the summer day Peter had to spotted you on the way to class. “We’re gonna run in, drink some cocoa. We’ll catch you guys later.” Ned shivered as Betty re-engulfed him in his jacket she’d been holding for the scent. 

Love was weird, but you wanted so bad to be a part of it.

You turned to Peter beside you. “And what are we gonna do?”

“Swinging.”

“Peter, I don’t swing. I’m perfectly happy in our relationship.”

Peter held onto your waist, your head nuzzled into his neck, not daring to look down at the city below you. This was the first time you’d ever experienced something like this, no doubt, but Peter was getting a strange sense of deja vu.

“Y/N!” You didn’t move from your place in his neck, but he knew you could hear him. “I love you. I trust you.”

“You’re-” You didn’t trust yourself to speak. “Fucking.” You opened one eye just to be sure you weren’t dreaming. “Spiderman!”

“I’m something more important: your boyfriend.”

Leave it to Peter Parker to get all sappy with you in the middle of the sky. 

You opened both your eyes now. “What about my soulmate?”

“What?” Startled, Peter lost controls of his webs for a moment, and knocked his rib on the side of a building. Luckily for you, you were lower to the ground.

‘Injury detected,’ Peter’s AI, Karen, stated.

“Yeah, I know, Karen.” Peter stated.

“Is it right there, babe?” Peter nodded, sat on the concrete, and pressed the spider in the middle of his suit. You watched as it became loose.

Your eyes flickered to the bandage on his ribcage. Maybe you had your answers as to how Peter always seemed to be hurt, but you needed your ultimate answer. And it was behind the bandage. “Right here, are you sure babe?”

You were on edge. You weren’t sure what you’d do if fate didn’t allow this to be true. For the sake of your heart.

So you peeled back the bandage.

And you found nothing there but a series of bruises. Your heart was crushed. “Nothing, Peter. There’s nothing there.” You had tears in your eyes, and before long you were ugly crying. This wasn’t a case of the novelty wearing off. This was a case of the novelty being broken down ‘til it can’t function no more.

“That’s a good thing baby, maybe I just need to go to a hospital.”

“No, I mean it Peter! There’s nothing there!” You pull up your heart to reveal a half full shirt printed on your body twenty one years ago, this exact heart only belonging to one other person in the world. But it wasn’t Peter. Even though he had just told you he loved you. “Fuck!” Your voice became incomprehensible, drowned out in tears and squeaks of sorrow. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t see each other any more. T-there is someone out there for me. You need to understand.”

And, unsure if your legs would take you all the way, you made your journey to Betty.

When you made it to Betty’s, she stood in the doorway with a rock on her finger. You couldn’t see that, though, through your tear blurred vision.

“Oh, poor baby.” She immediately embraced you, with Ned circling to your side to group hug you. You sniff into her shoulder. “He’s not-we’re not-”

“My darling.” She pauses. “I’m hoping you got the first month’s rent.” She laughed and you laughed before she pulled you back in her embrace and allowed you to feel what you needed to feel.

It’s often underestimated how miserable you need to be in order to cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t even know you did until you woke in your old room, your old band poster replaced by a calendar titled ‘Ned and Betty Forever’ and you laughed because Ned and Betty hadn’t even known each other longer than than six calendar months.

And you missed your windowsill on which you’d perch and overlook the breathtaking view of Brooklyn, and the even more awe-inspiring view of NYU students hurling after one too many, especially after yours and Betty’s parties.

“Do you guys even clean this room?” You called out. “You got a serious case of cobwebs.”

Peter lowered himself to meet your view. You were about to draw the blinds on him, only to realise Betty and Ned had gotten them removed whilst you were living with Peter.

“Hear me out.”

“I have no choice.” You chew on the flesh of your cheek. “You took a while to find me.”

“You left me for dead.”

It was hard to beat that one.

“Peter, if you have something to say, say it.”

“I’m sorry.” he’s swinging upside down, side to side and it slightly amuses you to think he’s getting dizzy if the last three months were at your expense. “I know how much this soulmate bullshit means to you, and I kept you longer than you would’ve liked. I’m also sorry ‘cause I knew I wasn’t your soulmate from the start.”

You gasp.

“But I wouldn’t in a billion years say that either you or I belong to someone else. MJ is my soulmate, yes. I love her with all my heart, but I believe destiny can change in the same world where people disappear for five years. MJ moved on. I’ve moved on. Who cares about a stupid tattoo? People go to parlours and give themselves their own all the time. People get them removed all the time. I’m getting my black dahlia erased.” Your face softens a little bit at that, you guard slightly down, but you refuse to wave a white flag without first making your point.

You rubbed your rib cage. “I care.”

“Y/N, you’re smarter than to deny what you feel. You’re an English major, studying Romeo and Juliet. You understand the world better than I do, and I’ve been to 600 different versions of it. You have a heart half full on your ribcage and I have half a flower on my foot. Tell me, would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?” 

You know the answer’s the same one Betty gave Ned tonight when he got down on one knee, the same response you’d give Peter if he was to ask you the same question, what you’d tell anyone if they queried if you’d go through what you went with Peter all over again.

You pull down his mask, and look deep into both of Peter’s eyes, and still him from swinging. “Love someone for loving you for a change.”

And you don’t have to say it, Ned and Betty hiss it out for you not so subtly from the windowsill in the livingroom. “Yes!”

So when you and Peter kiss, it’s not about novelties or concepts, fate or tomorrow, it’s just the beautiful bliss that is love, in this moment.

The unmistakable indicator that you and Peter are meant to be.

Fin.

Credit for the gif goes to: @/tomhollandnet

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Upcoming Works

[daddydoddsjr]

@taurean12 - “ I have an idea for a fan fic...now that law and order is renewed, Peter stone comes back as ada there, cross over with svu, he wants to pursue liv and here comes jelliot.... “

“ jelliot “ is my favourite thing right now

i’m so so so sorry this took so long to put out. it’s my first year of college and things are very stressful, so i didn’t have much time to do this :(

this will be multiple parts

SEASON 22 SPOILERS !!!!

Part 1/?

First Rafael Barba, then Elliot Stabler, and now Peter Stone. People from the past are popping up left and right for Olivia. After Rafael and Elliot came back, Peter came along too, back to working cases for SVU along side Sonny to help him decrease his work load. Peter had missed Olivia. He had missed her a lot more than she would have thought he did, but it was more than just a regular, “ I missed the way we worked together. “

For Peter, it had become more of a, “ I missed the the colour of your eyes, the way you smile, “ etc. A lot more personal with deeper feelings attached. Feelings he didn’t know he would catch, especially not for her. And the same thing went for Elliot; once he began to somewhat heal from his wife’s death, the deep rooted feelings for Olivia of the past began to make their way to the present.

" Liv, " Peter burst into Olivia's' office, " Rita took the plea of guilty to rape in the second degree. " By that time of night, most of the squad was gone for the night and Olivia was packing up to head home.

" Really? Peter, that's great! How'd you manage to pull that one off? "

" I have my ways. "

" Your charm, huh? " Olivia asked lightheartedly.

“ Of course, “ He smiled, “ You up for a nightcap? “

“ Yes. I definitely need one after the week we just had. “

And so the two of them left SVU and headed out to a close by bar. Peter offered his arm for Olivia to take as they walked, and to his delight, she held onto it. Peters heart skipped a beat. He felt as if this was high school; having crushes on girls this hard. Maybe it was stupid of him to feel this way.

Being a gentleman once they got to the bar, Peter pulled a stool out for Olivia and helped her take off her coat. She thanked him as they sat down, giving Peter a smile. God how he loved her smile.

The two of them ordered drinks and talked, not about cases, but Peter insisted that he wanted to be caught up on everything in her life since he had left. Olivia explained to him how Elliot and Rafael had come back, both taking her by surprise, especially Elliot.

“ Well, I know that the two of you were close, “ Peter said when Olivia went quiet after mentioning Elliot, “ He really didn’t talk to you for all those years? “

Olivia shook her head, “ I didn’t even know he was back in the force. “

“ He sounds like he doesn’t deserve any of your time, Olivia. Not after so long with no contact. “

“ It’s… a complicated situation. Very complicated. All he wants to hear about all the years we were apart is who I was dating while he wasn’t here, “ Olivia sighed, “ As if he’s going to do something about it. “

Peter frowned at this, “ That’s it? “

“ Feels like it. “

“ I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to answer any of his questions, especially about your personal life. “

Olivia gave him a small smile, “ I know, I know. Thank you for listening, though, even though they’re just rambles. “

“ They’re not rambles to me. I enjoy listening to you talk. “

Olivia laughed a little, “ Really? “

Peter chuckled, “ Yes, really. Is that so hard to believe? “

Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching them through one of the windows of the bar, none other than Elliot himself. He couldn’t hear them talking, but he could see Olivia laughing. A stab of jealousy. And that stab only went deeper as he saw the look that Peter was giving her.

[spidernerdsblog]

Don’t you love me?

A/N: Ok first of all my apologies for being so late was really caught up with my exams and other stuff. Tried my best to do justice with your request. Hope you like it.

Can you do a Peter Parker x reader where Peter already lost his virginity at some point but the reader is virgin and it’s her first time? Basically soft considerate Peter checking to make sure she’s not in pain and being really big on consent, like, she has to verbally say yes because he doesn’t want to violate her in anyway, like literally even having his hands anywhere on her, even if it’s just around her shoulder, he’ll check to make sure she’s okay first. Probably starting out watching a movie on Peter’s bed (like lotr or The Hobbit, I have a head canon that he loves those movies) Requested by : @tom-holland-gives-me-seratonin 

Pairing : Peter Parker (aged up) x reader

Warnings : 18+, SMUT, mature content

You met Peter Parker in the first year of your Uni. Both of you were pursuing your Bachelors in Biophysics from the prestigious Empire State University. For you his first impression was that of a cute awkward nerd in thick rimmed specs who got all nervous around women. But something of him intrigued you especially when he sometimes used to mysteriously disappear in thin air without any clue. Like one time when your biology teacher turned villain Prof Miles Warren aka The Jackal unleashed his spiderman clones in the world. Peter was the first one to disappear from campus and within seconds Spiderman appeared to save the day. 

You only got to know him better when you were paired with him for a research project. You had to work with him to find out the biochemical composition of a substance. First it was all professional between you but slowly you started to grow feelings for each other. Small talks led to dates and then a full fledged relationship. You were still oblivious of his alter ego but that was a matter of time when one night you heard a knock on your window and you were shocked to find a red and blue spandex suit clad none other than your friendly neighborhood Spiderman. He seemed to be badly wounded and once he took the mask off to reveal who he was underneath you were exhilarated with the fact that it was your sweet nerdy boyfriend. That night he had come to tell you that you both can't be together because of the dangerous life he leads. And he doesn't want to lose you just like he lost Gwen who became the collateral damage of his fight with Electro. Instead you made it clear that in no means you are going to leave him. He needs someone to take care of him and you want to be that person in his life. From then there was no looking back for you two. 

You were happy and cherished every moment you got to spend with Peter. He was the sweetest and kindest person you have ever met. You always felt a thrill around him now that you know about his secret identity but you wanted that same thrill in your love life too to be specific your sex life. You have been in a relationship for one and a half years now but you never got to the sexy part. Whenever you used makeout and things got a little heated he used to back out immediately in spite of painful strain in his pants. You could feel he was holding back for some reason you don't understand. 

Sometimes you thought maybe you were the problem because you were a virgin inexperienced. You knew about his past relationships with Gwen and MJ maybe he doesn't find you that attractive. You tried dropping hints occasionally grinding on to him while sitting on his lap kissing him or intentionally touching him on his crotch but he never used to pick up on it or straight away ignored them. But now you are desperate now if he doesn't make a move you surely will. You don't want to die a virgin. 

It was a lovely evening May was out of town so you came over at Peter's to spend the night with him. You were snuggled close to Peter on the couch practically laying over him watching one of his all time favorite The Hobbit his hand wrapped around you drawing lazy circles on your skin. Your eyes were trained on the TV screen, eyebrows knitted in a frown as you gnawed your lower lip. Peter noticed that and he knew you only did that when something is bothering you. 

"What's wrong babe?" He asked sweetly like all the time he does. 

''Huh?" You were snapped out of your daze. 

"Nothing Peter." You replied dryly. 

"C'mon don't lie to me I know something is bothering you." You sat up on the couch and looked at him carefully before straight away asking

"Peter don't you love me?" Peter was taken aback at your sudden question. 

"What? No, Y/N what made you think that? Did I do something wrong? Oh is it for me not showing up for the presentation with you. I'm so sorry Y/N but I had to go on that mission the Avengers needed me. I promise this will never happen again." He continued rambling which melted your heart at how pure and innocent he was and now you started feeling guilty for making him feel like that. 

"Hey, ssh, ssh.." You sit up on your knees cradling his face with your hands bringing him close to your chest. He stopped rambling, nuzzling his face into your warm chest. 

"I'm not mad at you for ditching me at the presentation though I was a little at first." You shrugged 

"But that's ok I made peace with that a long time ago because with great powers comes great responsibilities." you chuckled making Peter smile but he still wasn’t convinced.

"Then what is it darling?" He nudged you. You gathered all your courage taking a deep breath and shut your eyes close before blurting out. 

"I want to have sex Peter! I know it was a little straight forward from me but Peter we have been together for more than a year and I love to spend my time with you, cuddle you to sleep, making out on a lazy Sunday morning but I want more. And every time things start going there you back off leaving me high and dry. You ranted. 

"Oh" that was the only reaction Peter gave you after your nearly one minute rant. 

"I don't want to sound pushy. I know I'm a virgin not as experienced like you and maybe not as attractive like your previous girlfriends. But I want to do it with you, I want you to be my first." You continued with your rant.

"Hey, hey…" he sat on his knees cupping your face with his large calloused palms. 

"I'm so sorry Y/N for making you feel like that. Believe me you are the most beautiful and smart woman I have ever met in my life." 

"You know with this superstrength and my heightened senses I sometimes can't trust myself. What if I get too carried away and end up hurting you? And the last thing I want is to hurt you Y/N." his gaze dropped to his lap. 

"Hey look at me" you placed your hands on both sides of his face making him look at you. 

"You. Can. Never. Hurt. Me. Do you understand?" you said gazing firmly into his eyes. He nodded, smiling and sealed his lips to yours. The kiss grew heavier as he pushed you back making you lay down on your back on the couch. His lips never left yours, you slightly parted your lips allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands went under your sweatshirt drawing lazy patterns on your skin gently tugging onto it. You broke off the kiss trying to catch your breath and got up a little as Peter helped you to pull off your sweatshirt revealing your lacy bra. 

He slotted himself between your legs and you wrapped them around his hip out of instinct. Peter kissed your cheeks slowly. You tilted your head a little as he dragged his lips down your neck, nose brushing against your flushed skin as he left butterfly kisses all over your exposed skin.

"Let me show you how much I love you." His glanced up to you voice low which sent shivers right down to your core. 

He moved down further leaving a trail of wet kisses along the valley of your breasts as he pulled down your bra and latched on to one of your nipples sucking on to it gently, his other hand fondling with your other breast. You moaned as your nipples felt sensitive under his touch. Your fingers tangled with his soft brown curls as he licked and gently nipped on to your skin. His hand went to your back unclasping your bra as you slid it and threw it away. Your hands tugged on to his shirt he took the que and took it off. A light gasp escaped from you at the sight of his taut abdomen muscles as you ran your hands gently over them encircling your hands around his neck pulling him down to kiss him again. He then crawled down placing soft kisses along the way from your chest to your naval and pulled down your sleep shorts. He felt himself twitch at the sight of seeing you all soaked up for him. 

"Who made you this wet babe?" He asked you teasingly running a finger through your clothed heat

"You Petey." You whimpered, biting your lower lip. Oh that pet name from your mouth did things to him as he felt himself grow painfully hardert in his sweatpants. He hooked his fingers to the waistband of your panties and looked up to you eyes seeking permission. You nodded to tell him to go on. He peeled them off you. You felt a little intimidated as you closed your legs a little before Peter stopped you. 

"Don't be shy darling,you have no idea how pretty you are." He praised which made your cheeks turn to the brightest shade of pink. He spread your legs wide and ran his finger through your slick folds you let out a whimper at his touch. He brought his finger coated with your wetness to his mouth and sucked on it. 

"You taste so sweet babe can't wait to taste more of you." He leveled his face to your soaking core placing butterfly kisses on your inner thighs making you squirm. Finally he decided to pay attention to the place where you needed him the most. Peter hooked his arms to your thighs and placed a soft kiss on your heat and you felt like your whole body combust into flames. He licked a long, bold stripe through your slit as you gasped loudly. You  moaned as he sucked on to your bundle of nerves flicking it with his tongue.

"Shit! Peter this feels so good!" Peter smirks against your heat delving into you as if you were his last meal.

He inserts a finger inside you and begins pumping it in and out of you simultaneously sucking on to your clit. Your body arched when he added another finger. His long slender fingers hitting all the right spots inside you as Peter felt your legs tremble in pleasure. Your hands went on to grab his hair tugging on it as his groaned face nuzzled into your heat. He lapped up all your juices. You felt yourself reaching the edge as a tight knot started to grow in your stomach clenching around his fingers.

"Let go Y/N I got you." He coaxed you curling his fingers inside you and you felt the coil snap as you orgasmed incoherently moaning his name. Peter worked you out through your high. He pulled away and slowly crawled up to you. 

"You okay?" You hummed in reply still coming down from your high. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his lips. 

"Y/N you have to promise me if at any moment you feel like it's too much you will stop me ok?" 

"Yes Peter I'll."

He got up and went to fetch a condom. He got rid of his pants and boxers and your eyes went to his throbbing length. You felt a little jittery as you were lying down on the couch in anticipation of what was going to happen next. 

"It's rude to stare, you know." He quipped, you rolled your eyes.

He pumped himself a few times before tearing the foil and rolling the condom over his length and got on top of you propping himself on his forearms. 

"It's going to hurt a little, I'll go slow don't worry." He brushed his tip on your folds spreading your wetness, then slowly guided himself inside you. You winced at the stinging sensation squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his tip stretching you open, your hands grabbed on to his biceps tightly. Peter’s eyes were trained on you as soon as he noticed your painful expression he stilled himself completely pulling out of you. 

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry Y/N." He asked with a worried face and it made you fall in love with this man all over again making you forget all your pain. 

"It's ok Peter, I'm fine. Just you know you are a little big for me. You said coyly.

"Okay I have an idea" he sat up on the couch leaning his back on the backrest of the couch as you sat up on your knees. He pulled you into his lap placing your legs on both sides of his thighs straddling him. He slowly guided you to position your and lower yourself onto his shaft. 

"Just relax, take your time baby. I’m here for you." He reassured you. You went down carefully taking your time accommodating him inside you. You both let out a moan when he completely filled you up stretching your walls. You stayed like that for a while letting yourself adjust to him. 

"Fuck! You're so tight baby, I’m not gonna last long" he whispered brushing his lips against your ear making you shudder. He slowly guided you to lift your hips on and off him. 

You caught on to the rhythm and began to move up and down on your own, riding him at a slow pace. Your palms placed flat on his chest the faint stinging sensation fading away as little waves of  pleasure took over you making you moan softly. Peter hesitantly placed his hands on your waist trying not to grip on it too hard. 

"It's okay Pete you can hold me I'm not made of glass, I will not break so easily." You chuckled. He wrapped his arm around your waist and another hand went to your face brushing away the hairs falling on your face. You began to pick up speed, your hips rolling onto his shaft harder and faster, beads of sweat forming on your bodies, your breasts rubbing against his muscular chest. You pressed your forehead to his closing your eyes starting to feel a little tired. Peter noticed that and held on to your hips stilling you at your place as he bucked his hip thrusting deep inside you hitting your g spot. 

"Oh Pete right there!" you moaned. Peter began thrusting inside you with a new vigor as you clenched hard around him feeling the coil tighten inside you again. You were a moaning and panting mess by now your head dropped to the crook of his neck nibbling on to his smooth skin. 

"You’re gonna cum for me darling?'' You could only nod in reply.

"Then cum for me, let me see my baby fall apart on my cock." A few more deep thrusts and you felt your walls pulsate as you came all over him. His thrusts grew sloppier as he chased his own high. You felt him twitch inside you and with a final thrust he was soon spilling inside the condom. You collapsed on top of him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, feeling exhausted from the speed and intensity of the deed you just engaged in.

"Wow" you said in between erratic breaths. 

"You did so well babe." he mumbled, kissing your hairline while caressing your sweaty back with his hand as you both came down from your own highs. A few seconds passed before you finally sat up and lifted yourself off him. His hair was a mess, his soft brown eyes staring at you intently before lifting his hand to your cheek brushing his thumb on your cheekbone. 

''You're so beautiful."

"Shut up" you felt shy under his gaze as you lightly slapped on his chest and rested your head against his broad chest again. 

"I love you" you mumbled, closing your eyes listening to his slow and steady heartbeat. 

"I love you too" he wrapped you in his arms sighing with content. 

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff 

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

~

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

      The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars. 

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory.  “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”   

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”  

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask.  “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam. 

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.  

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

      Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding. 

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly. 

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again  — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him. 

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page. 

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six. 

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job. 

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.  

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed. 

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer. 

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously. 

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed. 

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up,  happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.  

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked. 

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.” 

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

       It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017. 

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

      It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to. 

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more. 

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl. 

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath. 

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving. 

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet. 

        A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force. 

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him.  “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.” 

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.” 

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes. 

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.” 

You can. You really can.

       Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man. 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” 

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

        Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds. 

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient. 

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve. 

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates. 

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic. 

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back. 

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it. 

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real. 

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

       Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it. 

     ‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that. 

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.      

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself. 

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side? 

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that. 

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.      

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.      

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

       There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are. 

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out. 

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard. 

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch. 

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks. 

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse. 

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips. 

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family. 

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever. 

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name. 

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories. 

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

~

THE END.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-3 @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise​ @missnighttigress​

[creativeashproductions]

A Distant Dream IV // Luke Patterson

Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again tried to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides to wait to confess his feelings. Only to have soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history

Warnings: Swearing, grief, mourning a relationship, sadness, angst, war/death, mention of strict parents, and fluff

Words: 3.1

A/N: This is a disclaimer: just because the reader and Luke start to get along better and have a date does NOT mean she isn’t grieving her relationship. Whether the love faded or not with Peter that is still a large part of who she was/is or don’t expect her and Luke to fall into a relationship immediately.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The phantoms had disbanded for the night, leaving Julie alone in her room surrounded by books and Flynn. You’d snuck down to the basement as you had since you arrived in 2020 from a different world. The wardrobe that quite literally changed your life was in the back corner, unassuming for the young girl.

Your e/c eyes pinned to the antique wooden furniture that had traveled from England to America as if fate had guided it. No matter how long time went by you’d never been able to touch the wardrobe, let alone touch remotely close. A part of you feared finding if you could return to Narnia or not.

It was something you kept private from the new people helping you to assimilate back into a life on Earth. The boys often refused to leave you for very long after the traumatic disappearance, even when you urged for space. It had almost been as tricky as negotiating peace with a land boiling with civil unrest.

Alex had taken to holding your hand as you slept for peace in both him and you; he’d noticed the state of sleep you endured. It was fitful and often filled with memories in the form of nightmares. The one from last night reared its head once more.

An intake of breath as you pulled your fingers closed to your cheek. Eyes on the movement before you released the bow. The arrow sailed true into the unsuspecting enemy with a faint whistle as it travelled.

The body dropped, one of many of the battles you had attended since defeating the White Witch. A life was still a life, and taking one was incredibly difficult. You saw it in the eyes of Peter, heard it in Susan’s strained voice, saw it in the way Edmund carried himself, but the most heartbreaking was the feeling of Lucy’s tense shoulders in certain moments.

Edmund and Lucy had been children when the White Witch had reigned and fought. Lucy had been only nine years old when her foot first touched Narnian snow. At that tender age, she’d watched the evil of the world up close. Edmund not that incredibly older. The youngest Pevensie had watched her brother take his last breath. Felt the trauma of Edmund’s gasping as the cordial bled one life-giving drop of liquid.

“I’d like to say it gets better, but it truly doesn’t, Your Majesty.” General Oreius’ announced from his station beside you. It was a lull in the tension building as people got ready for the enemies on the horizon.

Oreius’ addressed you but kept his gaze on the approaching army from an enemy land; the General was gifted in multitasking. He’d stopped to give you a little peace in only the way he knew how to.

“Thank you, Oreius.” You informed the General as he took off into the land ahead, leaving you to hold off the enemy with arrows. The short lapse is a game-changer for you as you run into battle.

Last night’s dream had been a reprieve from the dreams of Peter staring sadly at you curled around Luke. It hadn’t happened, of course, but that didn’t dim the bonfire of emotions you felt for the hazel-eyed guitarist.

You couldn’t quite figure out if you loved Peter the way a wife should love their husband. It wasn’t solely Peter that made you come to the wardrobe frequently. It had to do with the family that became yours when your parents had been shitty.

“Hey.” Julie spoke, stepping up to your side. The first person to have found you in the basement where you had an entirely different life.

“Hi.” You murmured, breaking your stare to meet the lovely teenager who had taken your brother and friends into her home. Even if it hadn’t been a smooth start, the band had grown infinitely closer.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” Julie softly questioned with soft brown eyes taking in the action you’d known for years. Your fingers brushed a strand of her gorgeous coil hair behind her ear with a gentleness you’d done so with Susan and Lucy.

Julie watched as your eyes saddened, “I don’t know. Mere seconds before I stumbled out of the wardrobe into your home, I was an adult. I had been in my early ’30s reigning beside my husband, and then I was the same sixteen-year-old girl breaking the chains of the Mercer name.”

“You feel guilty you left Alex, Luke and Reggie without answers, but you feel like you’re betraying your new family?” Julie questioned, shifting on her sneakers to stare at the emotional mask you’d developed in Narnia.

“Something like that.” You simply replied, casting one more look at the wardrobe in your haste to leave the basement.

Julie waited until you had left before she opened the wardrobe with a loud creak. Her hands brushed material hanging before her hand met a solid surface. Her face dropped at the physical evidence that Narnia couldn’t be reached from this wardrobe again.

Julie adored you, but she wanted to know how true happiness looked on your pretty features. Even if she had to give up you just so you could be happy, it was worth it, so when you left the basement each visit, she’d check the wardrobe.

It always failed. Not a speck of snow or a call of your royal title. Had Julie not seen you tumble out of the wardrobe, she’d have never believed the story.

“One day.” Julie murmured to the silent wardrobe.

Your foot barely passed the threshold of your attic space when your ’90s friends dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Each wearing a big grin that matched the fake one you plastered on.

“Where’d you go this time?”

“Top of the Hollywood sign.” Reggie piped up, skipping over to distribute a cheesy tourist keychain of the sign. Had it been someone else than Reggie, you would have joked about it, but you never could with the sweet puppy like teenager.

“Thank you.” You told the boy who had taken to grabbing little souvenirs for you. You couldn’t remember when he’d sat beside you, but he’d softly informed you how much he’d missed you. 

In the year following your disappearance, Reggie had built up a collection of trinkets he thought you’d love; he was the one with the most optimism. Even if he believed you’d met an end, that little spark of hope never died. He wouldn’t be Reggie Peters if the hope wasn’t there.

“I wish I knew if my parents kept that box.” Reggie sighed, referring to the trinkets he had collected the year you’d gone missing. You merely squeezed his shoulder in response before catching gazes with Luke.

“Flynn still here?” Alex questioned, pushing himself to sit on the box bench underneath the window. He’d proudly chosen the wear one of the t-shirts Flynn had personalized for the band.

You shrugged, “Dunno. Julie found me.”

Reggie and Luke were oblivious, but Alex knew to the core of his soul where you tended to spend alone time. Alex would see how you’d return with that ache in your eyes more prominent, and your lips quirked down just enough for him to tell. He saw the guilt when you looked at Luke, the way you thumbed your ring.

“Do you want to hang out? Maybe to use Julie’s computer to search for our childhood friends? See if Sarah got valedictorian?” Alex asked, swinging his feet, trying to pull you from your thought which he was successful with.

“Sure.”

Reggie and Luke watched as you and Alex left the attic for some one on one time together, leaving the two.

“I wonder where they’re going?” Reggie questioned, staring after the closed door. His hands pushed into the back pockets of his jeans.

Luke shrugged, “You wanna write a song?”

“Sure! We could-”

“Not country,” Luke told the bassist, who pouted but followed as his best friend poofed to the garage. 

The two Mercer siblings wandered the streets of Los Angeles, each in their own thoughts but comforted by the odd brush of their arms. For Alex, it felt like the old days when you both snuck out of the house just for some air. To just to leave the tense expectations shoved on their shoulders by their perfectionist parents.

“If I’d never disappeared and you didn’t die, where do you think we’d be?” You mused, thinking of all the what-ifs. Would you have gotten together with Luke? Would Sunset Curve had gone on to do sold-out shows.

“I don’t really know, to be honest. I think if we’d gone on to be successful that Reggie would have a ranch somewhere. He might have even released an EP of country songs. I think you and Luke would be together.” Alex thought with a bittersweet smile.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Where do you think you would be?” You questioned the older Mercer, who simply shrugged, “I like to think you would have been happy. Whether that was with someone, who was worthy of you or just by being yourself. Maybe you would have started a charity or been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community.”

Your e/c eyes caught the smile growing on your older brother’s mouth, bringing a lightness to your body.

“I don’t think it matters. We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. If we had survived, I would have never seen you again.” Alex confessed, “I think we were always meant to meet Julie.”

You went to open your mouth when your eyes found one of the last places you wanted to be. Somehow you and Alex had walked into the area where the country club was sitting just as it was back in the ’90s. From a distance, you could see the unmistakable form of Sarah, the girl in your grade who had always unwillingly competed academically with you. Sarah was just another girl with heavy expectations from her own wealthy parents.

“Is that Sarah?” Alex softly chuckled as the girl, now a woman, holding the hand of her husband with genuine happiness, “She looks happy.”

“She deserves it. The rivalry all our parents had was insane, so I’m happy one of us got the least complicated life.” You informed Alex bumping your hip against his leg as you talked with the pink-loving male.

England, 1940s

Four youth occupied one of the many rooms in the manor that didn’t hold a candle to Cair Paravel grand size and beauty. Not that the four confused siblings spent time taking a gander in the room. Each focused on how they’d lived well into their thirties before regressing back to the ages they were when they stepped into the wardrobe. There were minor changes.

Edmund wasn’t acting like a knob, Susan inserting herself as dominant, and Lucy was quieter than usual. Peter, however, had a boiling rage he could barely contain within himself.

“Do you think Aslan did this?” Susan questioned her siblings. A single tear rolling down her face at the grief she felt.

Each Pevensie was in the beginning stages of grief. They had to grieve the life they had lost in a magical place. A place where the war didn’t ravage like it did to their home country. For the suitors, she’d only just started to seriously look into.

Not a single shred of evidence tied themselves to Narnia.

“Who else?” Peter scoffed, bringing a gasp from Lucy’s mouth. They had all proudly reigned with Aslan in mind. Not a word is spoken against the great lion who’d died for Edmund and came back to life.

“Pet-”

“This is your fault.” Peter told his younger brother with a grimace on his face, “We had everything we ever needed in Narnia. Why did you need to catch that stupid stag?”

Edmund’s eyebrows furrowed, “You make it sound like our lives were perfect. Newsflash, King Peter, but it was far from that. You barely focused on your marriage, let alone Y/N.”

“Edmund.” Susan admonished, glancing between her brothers as if watching a tennis match. The only sister paying attention as Lucy stared out the window at the overcast day.

“It’s true! His marriage was a sham, and he lied to the entire kingdom!” Edmund shouted with a heated glare, “You acted like you were the most important person in Narnia, like the only reason the place worked was because of your hand solely.”

“Shut up,” Peter growled, stepping right up to his little; Edmund had lost a lot of inches, brother with a sneer. Their hair mussed from rubbing against the furs.

“Just because you’re older and you had High in front of your title doesn’t lessen our power too.”

“STOP IT.” Lucy screamed, stomping her foot, “Who cares about that. How about we focus on where Y/N went? She was right with us in there, and then out of nowhere, she’s gone.”

“I know.” Peter’s shoulder dropped in defeat as it settled further into his mind. Not only had he lost the years he’d lived, but he’d also lost you somewhere along the line.

While you’d fallen out of love, or maybe you’d never even been in love with Peter; he’d faithfully kept feelings for you. Part of him had always known your heart was taken by another, but he cherished the times you had together.

“And she’s not in another place right now. She’s somewhere in the far future.” Edmund added with his arms crossed over each other, “She never elaborated on when, where or what the future looks like. How can we find someone that doesn’t exist yet?”

“We hope our future selves can find her.” Susan finished sending a look at each of her siblings, “In the meantime, let’s live our lives for her, so we have tons of stories for her to listen to.”

Molina Household, America 2020

Luke Patterson shook in his black vans, his best pair he owned, holding simple flowers Julie had gotten. Money from busking down at the pier for some cash the boys could have for anything they wanted. They always left money with a note when they got items.

The flowers’ stems were definitely in a battle to survive the grip from the scared teenage ghost. He’d started the day with a tickle in the back of his mind to ask you out. Just a simple date with no strings attached to see where it could go. He couldn’t chicken out when he’d already knocked, and the door was opening.

“Oh! Luke.” You gasped, blinking at the sudden appearance of the phantom. Luke’s eyes melted at the oversized flannel layered over a cropped dark blue sweater.

Your style pre-Narnia and during Narnia had coalesced over the few months you’d found yourself on Earth. Your love of cropped tops returned with a modest twist, the modesty unshakable.

“I know it’s been hard adjusting from Narnia, but I was wondering if you would go on a date with him?” He blurted, dancing on the balls of his vans with an expression of pure nerves.

Your mind flew twenty miles an hour thinking through the implications of accepting a date with this teenager. A dead teenager at that. Sure he was only a year older, but fate had a sick sense of humour. 

“I don-”

“I know in your other world you have a husband. I get that, but there’s something undeniable between us. It’s been there since the ’90s, and we always just pushed it away. I learned over the twenty-six years that life is too short.” Luke pleaded, slowly pushing the pretty bouquet into your arms, “Just one date to see if this is worth pursuing.”

You should have said no, but you couldn’t, “One date.”

Luke mentally pumped his fist in the air in celebration as if he was starring in a John Hughes movie. As if reading his mind, you teasingly thrust your hand in the air, the very same hand coming into Luke’s grip.

“There isn’t a lot that we can do, but Willie knows a guy unaffiliated with Caleb. Well, he knows him through a few guys, but he hooked me up. In this lovely basket, we have a menagerie of food that I can eat.” Luke spoke proudly with that same twinkle he always had with you by his side.

Your lips parted in pure elation. Luke Patterson was taking you out on one of the things that had been on your bucket list. A picnic date, something you and Alex each desired to enjoy.

Luke led you down a few streets to a park notorious for cute dates. Julie stood over a cliche checkered blanket. In her hand was an old iPhone or iPod hooked up to a Bluetooth speaker, a playlist curated of your favourite songs ready to go.

“You remember how to use this?” Julie questioned the teen ghost with one raised eyebrow. Luke nodded in his mission to unpack the food in a form that was as romantic as possible.

Julie nodded before casting a quiet goodbye to the two ’90s teens.

“How’d you know?” You questioned Luke as he poured a glass of the beverage he’d chosen. His ever-changing eyes flicked up to yours with an endearing expression.

Your eyes scanned his messy hair. He had taken the time to meticulously styled for his date with you. He’d chosen that gorgeous purple corduroy long sleeve shirt that turned his hair to melted milk chocolate. He hadn’t done a 180 on his style; he’d never tell you he’d styled his hair off his forehead into what Alex had dubbed the Prince Charming hair.

“1994 in the studio for Alex’s fifteenth birthday. Bobby snuck some alcohol he’d collected from his uncle’s BBQ and his father’s stash. We got drunk for the first time and played truth or dare.” Luke recalled with a smile. 

He remembered how much of lightweights they were and the way his heart fluttered when Alex answered Reggie’s question. He explained how his ideal date was a picnic in a park with either a guy he was seeing or his celebrity crush. He’d mentioned it was something he shared with you, and then all Luke could think about was taking you on a picnic.

“Dealing with Alex’s hungover ass was a nightmare.” You grunted, swiping one of the pieces of watermelon from a container.

“I can only imagine.” Luke chuckled, slowly shifting closer to you with a sandwich in his left hand. His right arm slowly slinked over your shoulders to rest, the movement halting as your shoulders tensed momentarily.

“Were you really gonna confess that night I disappeared?” You asked the guitarist currently focused on the delicious sandwich. It reminded him of his mother packing his lunch every day, even in his high school years despite telling his mom he could do it himself.

“I was. I chickened out.” Luke admitted and had he been alive, his ears could have flushed along with his cheeks. The bashful ghost struggled to meet your gaze, “I had-have this massive crush on you. I’ve had it since you called me your knight in shining armour-”

“When I sliced my knee open, and you carried me home.”

“I’ve never told anyone, but you’re kinda the reason why I started wearing no sleeves. The guys and us were watching a film, and you mentioned something about the actor’s arms.” Luke snickered with a smile that faded at your sheepish grin, “Oh my god, you knew.”

“Bobby let it slip, ‘I watched him cut the sleeves of his shirts, stitch the raw edges of the fabric, prick his fingers a ton, and he nearly broke my foot’”

“Yeah I almost dropped a weight on him.” Luke snorted, shuffling to lay his head to rest on top of yours. He’d quickly learnt in his mission to gain muscle for your attention that he liked the exercise. He continued to get in shape and grow some muscle, but he still wore sleeveless shirts for you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Luke beamed at your words, “Nah, you’re the beautiful one.”

The rest of the date was everything you had ever wished for. Luke went above and beyond your expectations, even as a ghost. He’d packed a sweater to help you into when the night appeared, and the cold came. He held your hand on the way home and walked you straight to your attic door.

Luke didn’t push for a kiss either. He simply raised your clasped hand to press a lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

“Sweet dreams.” Luke murmured before he walked down the stairs. The euphoria ensuring he forget his ability to poof.

He wore the same lovesick expression into the studio where two ghosts waited for all the details. Alex and Reggie each buzzing in anticipation for their guitarist best friend.

In your room, you analyzed your feelings closely.

The guilt wasn’t as suffocating as you’d anticipated after going on a date that wasn’t with Peter. Just the guy that had been a reason your marriage with Peter wasn’t how it should have been. You also knew in your heart that Peter would want you to be happy and move on. In fact, in the last two years of your marriage, things had changed to just being two best friends married. 

Your eyes met the window of your attic bedroom with a small smile. Your right hand slowly sliding the symbol of love from your finger. For the first time in a very long time, your wedding and engagement band left your hand.

“I’ll always love you, Peter Pevensie.” You murmured from your place in front of your dresser. The two rings slid into the old jewellery box where they would stay.

The only signs of your previous relationship status are just memories and a pale line on your ring finger.

Time to move on. Time to accept that Narnia was in the past and not in your future. Time to accept that Luke Patterson always had and always would hold your heart in his hands.

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[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. 

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost two months after moving out of Beck’s place, Peter was able to rent an apartment in the same building as Ned and MJ. It was tiny, of course, but pretty inexpensive, compared to other options he found around that area. Besides, with the money he made with Just4Fans over those few weeks, he would be able to afford it comfortably for at least a few months – largely thanks to YKWIM. He still planned on saving up as much as possible, so he put a lot of effort into making his account grow and it was working – by the end of April, he was up to five hundred subscribers.

He didn’t check to see what Beck was doing, he was too afraid to look and see him with his new boyfriend, but he got lots of comments from his old fans, who still followed Beck, telling him that the new boy had nothing on him. Again, he didn’t dare to check, but the ego boost was nice, even if he didn’t really believe them. Also, he was down to crying once every two days instead of every other day, so he was counting that as a win as well.

His apartment was still pretty empty, specially because he spent most of his time downstairs at his friends’ place, but he decorated the bathroom and his room to the best of his ability, since they would be the background of pretty much all his videos and pictures. He also bought some new lingerie sets, a few costumes and sex toys he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he was slowly figuring them out.

Aside from decorating his room and the bathroom, he also bought an armchair and placed it by the  window with a couple of pillows. It was a nice spot to spend the afternoon reading or working on his computer. The light in that apartment was great, sunlight streamed right into his living room and warmed it up nicely. As they approached the end of April, the weather was getting better everyday.

Some days, he felt happy. He felt okay with the fact that he was still doing porn and that it wasn’t a terrible crime. Sure, it wasn’t what he had planned to do with his life, but he was young, he would eventually figure things out. For the time being, he needed that gig and he couldn’t beat himself up for it. Also, it wasn’t so bad now that he was only doing solo stuff.

Some other days, though, were just – hard. He remembered all the videos that were still online and he felt awful for the sole reason that they existed. Not so much for the ones he filmed with Beck, he was somewhat okay with those, the guy was his boyfriend after all, they had sex anyway, the only difference was the camera in the room. But the other ones…

When he started filming with other men, it quickly turned into an unpleasant experience for him. He hated every second of it and always ended up feeling guilty, used and disposable at the end of the day. Beck didn’t make it any better with the way he looked at him afterwards as he told him to get in the shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons why those videos bothered him so much, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t even him in them. It was like he was watching a different person, he looked at himself and felt completely dissociated from that boy – at the same time, he looked at him and he knew – he knew – exactly what he was feeling when those were shot.

But that was a lot to unpack and he just wasn’t ready for that particular crisis.  

So in short, sometimes he was still a little unsure about how long he would be able to keep his Just4Fans account, because even though most days he didn’t feel too weird about it, sometimes it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. But that was fine, he was usually able to work around that. Also, most of his subscribers were great and didn’t make him feel like a cheap whore, so he had that going for him as well.

YKWIM was one of the good ones. They chatted almost daily, and Peter always sent him exclusive pictures and videos just because. He never posted those pictures on his feed once he sent them to him, it was their little secret. In return, he got his own collection of short videos of YKWIM finishing himself off. He didn’t know much about the person behind the videos, he’d taken to calling him daddy because most of his subscribers seemed to like it and YKWIM never complained, so it stuck.

Peter did know he lived in New York – which made him shiver – and that he was a businessman of some kind, but he also always talked about a workshop, so Peter wasn’t sure and he avoided asking personal questions. He worked most of the day and into the night, they usually talked when it was late, always around two in the morning.

He traveled a lot, too, and sometimes sent Peter small clips of his hotel rooms or the view from his balcony. In return, Peter sent him pictures of his messy bedroom and the horrible view from his window as a joke. It was nice talking to him, he always made Peter laugh – and then it often ended with a very satisfying orgasm that put him right to sleep, which was awesome.

Peter estimated YKWIM was older than Beck, but not by too much. He clearly had a fit body, which at first led him to believe he was in his thirties, at most; but he noticed YKWIM sometimes talked about the 80’s like he lived them, so he had to be at least in his forties, but Peter couldn’t be sure. He really wished he would show his face, though, it would be nice to have one to fantasize about. But then again, maybe it would ruin the whole thing.

One afternoon, after Peter spent hours taking pictures, shooting videos and editing them so he could post them over the following week, he got a message from YKWIM. He hurried to check it and was shocked to see that he had sent him yet another tip – forty thousand dollars this time.

“For you to buy pretty things so you can show them off to me.” Said the message that came with the money.

Peter almost dropped his phone when he saw it. It had been only five weeks since his last insane tip, so that made fifty thousand dollars in just a little over a month. For, like, thirty nudes. Who even was that guy?

“Wow, daddy, that’s way too much!” He added a flushed face emoji, for lack of something better to say. He was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed, even if the guy had millions to spend, there was no way just giving someone that amount of money was normal.

“That’s not nearly enough for what you’ve given me, baby.” Peter’s cheeks burned.

“I’m very flattered, but please, I really don’t think I deserve all this.” He was pretty sure he sounded pathetic, but that was how he felt, so. Yeah.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, you really, really do. You’re worth every penny.” Peter bit his lower lip, a little unsure and still a little shocked.

“At least tell me what you’d like to see from me, please. Do you have any kinks that you’d like me to perform? Don’t be shy.” He asked, even though it always made him nervous to offer that kind of thing. Sometimes people were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the weirdest requests.

But, to be fair, he had been talking to YKWIM for over a month, so he somewhat trusted him not to ask for anything too absurd.  And then again, the guy had just paid him forty thousand dollars.

“Well, if you insist...” Here it comes, Peter thought, bracing himself. “Red and gold are my favorite colors. I’d love to see you wearing them.” Oh. Not what he was expecting at all.

“Done! Anything else? Come on, there’s gotta be something else.” Again, risky move. But again, forty thousand dollars.

“I’d love to hear you. You’re always so quiet in your videos. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear you call my name.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at that request. It sounded… almost sweet? It obviously wasn’t meant like that, it was completely sexual, but out of all the wild things he could have asked for, he wanted to hear Peter call his name.

“What’s your name, daddy?”

“Tony.” Tony. Peter tested the word out on his tongue, saying it out loud once, twice. Tony. It suited the image he had created in his head. Tony.

“I can definitely do that, Tony. Anything else?”

“Buy yourself something pretty and send me a picture wearing it. Nothing sexual. Something you’d wear to a date with me.” Peter’s breath hitched. He supposed it was probably just a weird, rich people kink or something, but his mind went wild anyway. Very, very wild.

“I don’t know what I’d wear to a date with you, daddy. Any advice?”

“I like expensive and beautiful things such as yourself, baby.”

Normally, Peter wouldn’t appreciate being called expensive, like he was a thing to be bought, but he felt weirdly flattered by the answer. He promised YKW – Tony – he would send everything he requested over the next few days, and he was actually excited about the whole thing. And of course he knew that feeling was trouble, there were warning signs flashing like crazy before his eyes, but he ignored them and convinced himself that he was just having fun and he was allowed to have fun if he was going to keep doing porn. He didn’t have to feel miserable and guilty all the fucking time. He could – and should! – take some pleasure from it. He deserved it.

So the following day he asked MJ to go shopping with him, but he still didn’t tell her the whole story, he just said it was for his Just4Fans and she readily agreed to go. They went to Victoria’s Secret and Peter told her what he had in mind.

“So, how’s the job going? You’re doing okay? Not too overwhelmed?” She asked coolly as they searched through the panties section.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s different when I’m in control, you know? Like, I know my limits and I don’t need to count on other people to respect them. Well, most of the time. So it’s cool.”

Some subscribers were a little pushy sometimes, asking for things Peter wasn’t willing to do and then getting really aggressive after being told no. But it didn’t affect him as much as it did when Beck ignored his boundaries, because those pushy subscribers could be easily blocked, whereas with Beck, well. It was a different story.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to push your limits, okay?” Michelle stopped what she was doing to grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at her. “If you ever feel like stopping, for whatever reason, just do it. No matter what, you’ll always have me and Ned, understand? We’re family, we’re here for you, we’d never leave you alone. If you want to stop, we’ll figure something out together, you hear me?” The way she looked into his eyes made him understand that she really meant every single word of it.

Family. He had a family with them.

Peter felt silly tearing up in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, so he pulled her into his arms and hid his face in her neck.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he muttered, as she squeezed him a little tighter, before pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all teary-eyed on me, come on, you’ll ruin my reputation.” She looked around, sniffing, then stuck her hands in her pockets. Peter laughed halfheartedly, drying the corner of his eyes. “C’mon, there are panties to be bought.”

They spent a couple of hours searching the store, but in the end he found the perfect set. He bought some other pieces, too, for his feed, people had been asking for lingerie a lot lately, after a slightly weird phase of cat ears and tails. Once they left Victoria’s Secret, Peter was nervous because he had to tell MJ at least part of the truth to get her help with the second part of Tony’s request.

“So, listen,” he started and she turned to him, happily sipping her large coffee as they walked down the street. “I have this subscriber. He’s, like, a rich, old dude who always sends me tips and stuff. Anyway, he gave me some money and asked me to buy something nice and pose for him, but like, not in a sexual way. He wants to see me clothed.” She frowned, staring at him suspiciously. “Um. I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

She was silent for a few seconds, just looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked away discreetly, trying to avoid her mind-reading skills.

“Should I be worried?” She asked, finally. He shook his head and chuckled nervously, waving a hand dismissively.

“He’s harmless, just some lonely, old dude. So, will you help?” He looked at her expectantly. She was still frowning and definitely knew something was up, but she nodded anyway, to Peter’s relief.

“What do you have in mind?” MJ asked and resumed her stroll down the street, Peter had to jog a little to keep up.

“Something expensive and beautiful,” He quoted Tony, like an idiot, because he honestly had no idea what that meant.

“That’s oddly specific and somehow not helpful at all.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked around the busy street. “How expensive are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Very?” He answered nervously, and, yet again, she looked looked like she wanted to rip the truth out of him, but she also knew that was not the way to go with him.  

“How much did this guy give you?”

“Um. for – five thousand dollars.” He stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the actual amount, because it sounded absolutely insane and she would worry unnecessarily.

“Holy shit!? Fuck, why aren’t I doing porn?!” She screeched and Peter hurried to put his hands over her mouth, because at least three people turned around to look at them.

“Don’t even joke about that, you hear me? You have a bright future ahead of you, don’t fuck it up,” he told her seriously and she looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of being annoying, but something in the way he looked at her must have made her realize he meant it.

“Chill, I’m joking.” She patted his shoulder and looked away. “So. Five thousand dollars? We can work with that.”

He was a little scared of the weird gleam in her eyes, but followed her anyway.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping, it was a lot of fun and he even got her a pair of shoes she kept staring longingly at. She was worried they would go over the budget because she wanted him to save some of the money, but he assured her he could afford it. They managed to put together a great outfit that he was very confident about and then called Ned to meet them for dinner in the evening.

Later, they took the subway home and, for a while, he felt like a normal 20-year-old guy – happy, weightless and just a little heartbroken, like everyone was bound to be at some point in life. He was going to be okay, he realized. That thought hit him like a punch in the face and it felt fucking awesome.

He rested his head on Ned’s shoulder with a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of MJ’s hand on his thigh.

It was around midnight when he got home, which for him was still a little early, he had developed the terrible habit of going to bed well after two in the morning – he blamed Tony, but to be fair, many of his subscribers were mostly active around that time as well. He debated whether or not he should start working on Tony’s requests, he was a little tired from a long day of walking around carrying bags, but also surprisingly eager to show the older man what he got for him.

He took the Victoria’s Secret bag and displayed the new outfit on the bed. It was a simple, but beautiful lingerie set. What Peter loved most about it was the fabric – it was made of deep red satin, smooth and glossy, and it felt simply amazing on the skin.

He decided to try it on, just to make sure it fit properly.

The top was a delicate bralette, two little triangles only big enough to hide his nipples and a little bit of his pecs. It was the perfect size for him, it sat flush with his skin, no unflattering cup gaps. The panties were tiny, Peter wasn’t too sure about those back in the store, he was worried not everything would fit in it. It did, but just barely, but it actually worked in his favor, in his humble opinion. Lastly, he put on the garter belt, which was just a thin piece of fabric that went around his waist, with two straps that hung down to clasp onto two elastic bands that went around his thighs.

Since Tony said red and gold, he also put on a thick, golden choker, just to see how it would look.

Once he was dressed, he went to check in the mirror. He bit his lower lip, running his hand over the fabric that covered his chest. It felt really smooth, and the way it brushed against his nipples sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Tony’s hands on his body. They looked strong enough to hurt, but he imagined they would be gentle with him, as they traced a path from his collarbone to his neck, to wrap themselves around his throat – but not tight enough to choke him, just a promise.

He sighed, as if to check that he could still breath under the pressure, and slowly slid his hands down from his neck, brushing his hard nipples on their way down to the front of the panties – God, it was so smooth...

For some reason, he imagined Tony would be a gentle lover. Maybe it was the way he talked to him, always so charming, all sweetheart and baby, all praise and compliments. Maybe it was the way he never demanded anything, only asked nicely, all please and thank you.  

Tony wouldn’t ruin him, like he promised so many times in those last few weeks, he would fuck him long and slow, raspy voice whispering sweet praise in his ear, rough hands holding him down, hips snapping with each unrelenting thrust.

He bit his lips, knees buckling as he felt the front of the panties getting wet, while his leaking cock struggled to get free.

Well, then.

He grabbed his camera from the closet and positioned it on a tripod in front of the bed, just a few feet away, and programmed it to take pictures every five seconds. He sat on the bed, facing the camera, feet still on the floor, and just closed his eyes for a minute, letting a sigh escape his lips as the fantasy from before filled his mind again.

He spread his legs and his fingers reached down to the front of his panties again. His cock felt impossibly hard, straining against the delicate fabric, dark pink tip peeking out of over the top of the tiny underwear. He touched himself slowly, hips rocking lightly to match the pace of his own hand, as he listened to the clicks of the pictures being taken.

He had to force himself to stop, before he lost control, and moved to kneel on the bed, with his side facing the camera, and lowered his chest until it was touching the mattress, letting his back curve in a sinful arch, head turned to the side, staring right at the lens. At Tony. Imagining what he would do if he were there.

He sat back on his heels and turned his back to the camera, spreading his knees, each of his hands grabbing one ass cheek, pulling them apart, only a thin, barely there strip of fabric hiding his nakedness. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the camera to take at least a couple of pictures.

Next, he laid on his back, side facing the camera again, left hand rubbing one nipple over the silky fabric, as the right one reached down the front of the panties, to finally give himself some sort of relief. He let out an almost pained moan as he wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, once, twice, but all that teasing was driving him a little insane.

He knew he should probably take a few more pictures, but he also knew wouldn’t last much longer.

He got off the bed and went to the dresser where he kept all of his “work stuff”. He grabbed a tube of lube and a vibrator that was neither too small, nor too big, it was a size Peter was comfortable with.

He switched the camera to video mode, pressed record and resumed his position on the bed, knees on the bed, holding his lower body up, and chest resting on the mattress. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pushed the panties a little to the side and circled his hole gently, slowly, because that was how he imagined Tony would do it. Those big, rough hands would have grabbed him by the hips, put him in that exact position, before teasing him mercilessly.

He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, rubbing slow circles around his rim, pressing a little against his entrance, but not hard enough to breach it. He felt his cock pulsing, begging for attention, but he didn’t dare to touch it, not yet.

“Tony, please...” He whined, pushing his hips back against his own hand, he was so lost in his fantasy he almost forgot he didn’t need to beg. Almost. “I need you...”

Gently, he started pushing one finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, he was so aroused he barely felt the burn, just delicious pressure that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He started fucking himself on his finger, feeling the muscles around it slowly make way.

“���Been thinking about you, Tony…” he rasped out, hips pushing back against his hand. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you...” When he felt loose enough, he pushed another finger inside, the stretch becoming a little more noticeable as he slowly scissored himself open. He got on all fours and turned his back to the camera to give Tony a better view, all spread out for him, and kept fucking himself, picking up the pace once just those two fingers weren’t enough. “Fuck, daddy, need you so bad...”

He eased the fingers out of himself, sighing at the loss, and reached for the vibrator that was sitting on the bed and turned to face the camera again. He knelt on the bed and, with one hand, he propped the vibrator up on the mattress, holding it down from behind him, as with the other hand he guided its tip to his already abused hole.

He flicked the switch and it vibrated to life, nudging against his hole before finally slipping in. Peter’s breath hitched at the intrusion, feeling the delicious burn on his lower back, as he moved his hips up and down slowly, trying to push more of it inside with each painful thrust.

“Fuck me, Tony,” he begged, as his free hand finally reached for his neglected cock, pumping it hard and fast, matching the maddening pace his hips set. He lost all sense of rhythm when he felt the tip of the vibrator finally – finally – reach his prostate and he pushed it even further in, until the pressure against the bundle of nerves became too much and he exploded in one of the best orgasms he had had in a long, long time. “Oh, f-fuck!” His vision went dark for a second as he let himself fall back on the bed, wasted.

He spent almost ten minutes just lying there, trying to catch his breath and regain consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that, he was boneless, floaty, completely satisfied. It was honestly the best he felt in months.

When his legs stopped shaking, he got up and headed straight to the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and weak, but he wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished, he debated whether he should just go to bed or send Tony what he had, but with the way he was feeling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so easily. So decided to send at least the pictures right away, even though it was nearing 3AM. Peter knew Tony was probably up, the man did say that he was an insomniac and that he sometimes went days without any real sleep, so it wasn’t a surprise when he answered just a few minutes after Peter sent them.

“Holy fuck, Peter!!” Peter bit his lower lip, burying his face in the pillow to hide his blush, even though he was alone in his room.“What the fuck, baby, it’s three in the morning, are you trying to fucking kill me?!”

“So you like them?” He asked with feigned innocence.

“I fucking love them, you little tease, these are hands down my favorites yet. I swear I’m gonna have them framed and hung in my workshop and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking days just writing odes to you.” Peter giggled into the pillow, turning on his side to get more comfortable on the bed.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He joked lightly, blushing again, which was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck no! You’re something else, kitten, and you don’t even know it.” Peter suppressed a smile, biting his lower lip.

“Are you touching yourself right now, daddy?”

“To be honest, I’m so fucking hard I think I’m gonna come instantly if I even brush my fingers on my cock. I’m literally just staring at the pictures right now and worrying I’m gonna come untouched just from that.” Peter laid on his stomach and bit the pillow, gently rocking his hips against the bed.

“That’s so hot. Can I see it?”

Seconds later, there was a video in the chat. He played it immediately and, sure enough, Tony wasn’t kidding. His cock was rock hard, throbbing, the head was an angry purple, already glistening with pre-cum. Tony was just holding it at the base, not daring to touch it, and the whole thing almost made Peter hard again, but he was really exhausted.

“Fuck, daddy, I really wish I could help you with that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what I wish.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes and Peter figured he had gone to sleep, but then his phone beeped, alerting him to another message from him. It was, of course, a picture of Tony’s spent cock, resting against his belly, which was covered in come, so much of it Peter’s mouth watered.

“Was it good, daddy?”

“The best, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m gonna sleep like a baby today.” Peter chuckled. Tony always said that was high praise coming from someone who hardly ever slept and the younger man took his word for it.

“Goodnight, Tony. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it, Pete.”

He knew he was fucked the second he tried to suppress a small smile, but couldn’t.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 2

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let’s try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We’re living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn’t actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @vozit​ @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings  ! She deserves all the love 💙

Peter woke me up at eight AM the next morning like the little shit that he was, demanding I make him pancakes. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had the joy to experience him in the morning and he knew exactly how to antagonise me enough to make him the special pancakes he liked so much. They had become kind of a ritual whenever he stayed over at my house, which was quite often - teachers liked me enough to pair me up with one of the most sensible kids for any projects that couldn’t be done alone by yours truly on her own.

I put on my yesterday’s dress, applied moisturizer and obediently trotted behind an excitedly mumbling Peter. The kitchen was large, beautiful and delightfully empty of any resident superheroes. I’ve indirectly crossed paths with all of the tower’s residents hanging around Tony, but I’ve yet had to speak more than polite niceties to any of them. 

Spying a bowl of boiled eggs and some sort of weird salad alongside half burned toast on the counter, I suddenly understood why Peter demanded his pancakes. I strictly instructed the disaster child to stay away from my cooking process and set to work with one ear listening to his ramblings and a headphone in the other. 

A set of thumping footsteps appeared behind me as I was pouring the batter for the first pancake. Their owner loudly sat down next to Peter, sighing, groaning, generally making “I’m not a morning person” sounds.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” Peter’s tone was way, way too chipper.

“‘mrng,” The Sergeant grumbled. “Who’s this and why is she making pancakes?”

I turned around, spatula at the ready. “It’s me,” We’ve actually met before, but Barnes had left before I could even come over from my side of the work bench to say hello.

He nodded in acknowledgement after giving me a suspicious once-over. “One of Stark’s science children. I’m James but you can call me Bucky,” His voice sounded rough and gravely, and he clutched a coffee cup half the size of my head.

I snorted. “Science child, sure,” It wasn’t half-bad actually. I wisely choose to ignore the part of being Tony’s. No matter how hot the man was, I wasn’t anybody’s but my own, thank you very much. “Go get the bananas, Nutella and maple syrup, fellow science child.”

Peter scrambled to follow instructions as I plated the pancakes and cut the bananas into neat little rings to fill the sweet circles with. A tablespoon of Nutella, half a sliced banana, wrap, garnish with powdered sugar and pour maple syrup generously on top. I really didn’t see how this could be difficult but any and all attempts to teach Peter how to recreate my masterpiece always ended up in an absolute mess. I turned around to ask Bucky if he wanted any. The look of a man starved answered all my questions.

“You’re a goddess,” Peter moaned around his mouthful, nose smudged white with the powdered sugar.

“Gross, chew first then talk, you neanderthal,” I scoffed, prepping more batter for the second batch of pancakes. I wasn’t sure if everybody would show up but figured it would be rude to exclude them from the sheer magnificence that were my pancakes. I was just that good.

The music in my ear drowned most of Peter’s disgusting chewing noises, thankfully. My second batch vanished into thin air, inhaled by the two males like the garbage disposals that they were. Peter, in particular, ate an alarming quantity of food and I was surprised how he managed to stay so skinny. His daily eating schedule resembled the Hobbits.

More people appeared, this time acting less surprised regarding me standing at the stove. Hawkeye, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch and her brother, all of them wandered in wearing sleep attire with various amusing prints. Thankfully, they mostly kept quiet or chatted with Peter - I would have definitely grumbled if someone tried to talk to me. As far as my body was concerned it was still the middle of the night.

“PANCAKES,” A booming voice announced and I shuddered at the sheer intensity and devotion contained in that one word. Thor.

“Please use your indoor voice,” I snapped reflectively. My brain caught up with what I just did so I hastily backtracked. “Sorry, I’m a bitch in the mornings.”

The blonde man chuckled, coming over to poke his nose into my flurry of pour-flip-fill sequence. Then, with all the grace and manners of a prince, he dipped one (1) large finger into the jar of Nutella and wandered off with it stuck in his mouth. With this turn of events the Nutella was bound to run out sooner than expected.

I turned around, annoyed confusion in plain sight. “The fuck?.. That’s gross, don’t do that,” Finding his brother (adopted!) sitting next to Thor, wearing a haughty smirk, finger still in his mouth. So Loki turned into his brother to steal Nutella from a jar. I sighed. Nobody even batted an eye. “Your alien germs are in there now, double ew.”

“Alien germs? Where?” Bruce entered the kitchen with a tablet under his arm, wearing Hulk themed pajamas, Captain America in tow. I was honestly on the verge of breaking down into hysterical laughter. Domestic Avengers wasn’t something I’d expected to see or experience, ever, much less be a part of. It took a moment for me to remind myself that they were people, too, and each of them was entitled to their own quirks. 

“America, egg-splain,” Peter muttered under his breath, giggling. “Loki stuck his hand in the Nutella jar,” He pointed at said jar. “She got grumpy,” Peter pointed at me. “Don’t make her grumpy, please, I want more pancakes,” And turned his pleading puppy eyes in my direction again.

“This is indentured servitude,” I pointed my spatula at the little shit. “You just had, like, ten.” But I made more batter nonetheless. I must admit it was kind of cool, seeing the earth’s mightiest defenders so relaxed. And Pete being happy, that was just… The best. I don’t know how to explain it. His eternal cheerfulness was highly contagious.

Chuckles filled up the room, the adults chatting and bickering amongst themselves while they patiently waited for their own breakfast. 

“Do you need some help?” Bruce approached me after stopping to fetch himself a cup of tea. It smelled strongly of tangy herbs and honey.

“I need more Nutella and bananas,” I admitted, surveying the sheer amount of people I had to feed. I didn’t doubt the Captain and two Asgardians had an appetite to match Peter’s which meant a literal extra set of condiments was required. Thankfully, Bruce fetched them for me, coming to a stop next to me. “Anything else?”

“You know, I tried making these with Peter and he just ended up with powdered sugar and chocolate all over himself,” I mused, noting the way Banner was carefully observing the assembly of a pancake. “You think Doctor seven-phds can manage to add a few toppings to a pancake without causing a disaster?“ 

Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, bumping me with his hip. "I’m no Clint Barton when it comes to cooking but at least I don’t burn my toast like Steve,” True to his word, his hands made swift motions of filling, wrapping and plating each individual pancake. They were almost as good as mine albeit more messy. I had lots of practice though. We finished off a batch in companionable silence, sounds of the team and my music playing in the background. 

I didn’t notice when I started swaying to the rhythm, catching a confused look from Bruce. I brushed back my hair, revealing a wireless headphone in my ear and he chuckled in understanding. “What are you listening to?”

“Right now? Kings of Leon,” I said, leaning towards him so he could hear the chorus “Use Somebody” currently occupying my right ear. 

“I like them, too,” He said, his cheek gently touching mine. His hands slowed on the pancake, a soft hum vaguely reminding me of the song’s melody emanating from his throat. “What else do you usually listen to?”

“Mostly heavier stuff, but I have a whole separate playlist dedicated to mid-2000s bops,” I answered. “I’ve heard I’m quite old school when it comes to music.”

“Well, I am an old man, so…” Bruce grinned mischievously. “But my guilty pleasure is Lady Gaga,” He admitted with a laugh.

I laughed, too. The image of his dancing in his lab to Born This Way was too much for my brain and I hung my head, fighting giggles. Bruce bumped me with his hip again, faking a pout. “Okay, okay, that was a fucking hilarious image, you go dude,” I finally powered through my struggle to contain laughter. “My own guilty pleasure would be… Umm… Lana Del Rey, I guess.”

Bruce made a vague noise of confusion. I took a brief break from mixing the batter to dig out my second headphone, presenting it to him and switching to a song. “This is what makes us girls”. Despite the fact I have never stolen a car or had a close female friend, the nostalgia was real. “Carmen” followed after the first song and I silently thanked whatever deity that “You can be the boss” was taken out of Spotify - I don’t think I was prepared to share that kind of information with a lab partner. An older, handsome lab partner. Wait… Where did that come from?

“I like it,” He said after the song ended and my more usual stuff began playing. “It suits you, I think.”

I groaned. “Really? I think it’s edgy,” Hiding away the embarrassment, I passed him a tray of freshly baked pancakes, occupying his immediate attention.

“You’re an old soul,” He gave me a lopsided smile. I saw a very faint blush tinting his cheeks, the kind of blush that had me wondering about the meaning behind his words. 

I gave an attempt at a smile in response, the left corner of my mouth barely tilting up. We talked some more about the rock music we shared in our earphones. I had a lot of 80s hair metal and 90s grunge in my playlist. Bruce was not a Curt Cobain man but enjoyed the works of his legacy, Marcy Playground. 

A tan hand wormed its way between me and Bruce, snatching a handful of banana slices and disappeared just as swiftly. “Tonyyy,” Bruce groaned, picking up another banana to replace the stolen pieces.

The spatula in my hand became a weapon as I blindly aimed at the target behind my back. A loud “ow” indicated I hit it. When I turned around, Tony was clutching the side of his face, a hurt look in his eyes and cheeks stuffed full of stolen goods. I stared him square in the face, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was shirtless - the arc reactor glowed brightly in the middle of his toned chest. Fuck.

His chest was honestly what I was aiming for. I constantly kept forgetting how short he actually was. There was this one time when Tony had to put his arms around me to steady a piece of tech - he felt huge, hard and enormous around me. 

“What’s that for, Princess?” He finally chewed through his food and found his voice.

“For being a Tony,” I retorted. “Stay away from my workspace and wait for your breakfast like everybody else.”

“Hey! This is my kitchen,” He whined immediately, like the adult man that he was. I nearly cried from how adorable his face became, eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t want to wait! And why does he,” Tony’s finger accusingly pointed at Bruce, “Get the bananas?!”

“Because he’s Brucie-bear,” I stuck my nose up in the air when Bruce’s arm wrapped around my waist. “He’s my science father,” I stuck my tongue out at Tony, seeing Bruce’s triumphant smile. Banner used every opportunity to get back at Tony’s incessant sass. 

The gleaming in Tony’s eyes should have alarmed me. “But he’s not your science daddy,” Tony’s flirting was accompanied by a salacious eyebrow wiggle and Peter’s screech of “OH MY GOD!" 

It took me every ounce of willpower to not flush. It was one of those rare times that I was at a complete loss of words. Thinking on the spot, I gave a very meaningful look to Bruce - thankfully, he got the gist and returned an equally filthy smirk back. Tony gaped.

"Is this how they are in the lab?” The Captain’s quiet voice leaked horrified amusement.

“All.The.Time.” Peter’s resonating groan was followed by Romanoff’s laughter.

We went up to the lab after breakfast. Thankfully Tony stopped his dramatic bitching when I served him my pancakes, scarfing them down much like everybody else. So me and Pete were accompanied by one (1) happy engineer, all three of us tinkering away on a robot that we were supposed to present in our science class in a month. The focus that was required to solder was immense and our usual banter was missing, replaced by an occasional request for a specific tool or a water bottle.

It took a few hours to get the dirty job done even with Tony’s help (technically he wasn’t supposed to but neither me nor Pete had the heart to forbid him from it when the man looked so content and happy soldering away). By the time I uncurled from my spot on the bench, my back was in knots and my dress had oil stains and holes all over it. I immediately went to the nearest water bottle, finishing half of it in seconds, picking up my phone to see if I had any important messages from my mother.

None.

Just a message from Bruce.

I tapped on my phone, idly scrolling through the Instagram app, liking some pictures of people I barely knew and keeping up a general appearance of being very busy. When the ringtone started playing, it took me a whole five seconds to understand it was, in fact, coming from my phone - I certainly wouldn’t put something so… Outrageous as my main tone.

Banner had discovered the power of the internet. You Can Be The Boss played loudly, and it played from my phone and Bruce was calling me. I picked it up, turning around, fighting the incoming laughter. “Yes, Brucie?" 

To say that Tony’s and Peter’s faces were scandalised was nothing. The boy’s face was such a deep shade of red, I started worrying about his blood pressure and Tony’s mouth hung open limply, like he was witnessing the second coming of Christ. 

"Is Tony sufficiently traumatized?” Judging by the breathless tone of his voice, Banner was resisting a mighty laughing fit of his own.

“Oh, absolutely,” I happily chirped.

“Good, keep it up. Come to my lab before you leave,” Banner snorted and then, realising what he’d done, promptly hung up, the tell-tale beginning of a giggle fit abruptly interrupted by a dial tone.

I put the phone in my bag, gathering the rest of my things with a look somewhere between innocence and indifference. At least, I hoped it was - my mind kept jumping between the engineer’s ridiculously scandalised face and the way his mouth went slack, lips moist and soft and plush. That’s a very dangerous trail.

A very dangerous trail I couldn’t resist exploring in the solitude and privacy of my own bedroom, at home.

[pointnumbersixteen]

A Head Cannon Biography and Character Analysis and of the Captain, Part 6: the Havers Question That I Still Don’t Answer Very Well, But I Tried My Best and That’s What Counts

That gets us finally to the analysis of the relationship between the Captain and Havers, as shown in Reddy Weddy.

From the first scene in the episode we get a lot:  Cap is obviously in love with Havers, that’s half the point of the episode. Cap is also so incredibly unsubtle with his attractions that Havers can’t have missed it. There’s probably no one in the Captain’s command who missed it, honestly. But what Havers might be thinking or feeling about this is almost more interesting than what the Captain, who is more or less an emotional open book, is thinking, because it’s impossible to tell for sure what Havers’ intentions are.

You can tell Havers is nervous to tell the Captain that he’s leaving. He probably doesn’t think Cap’s going to take it well, and considering how well Cap’s been shown taking things not going his way (not well at all, that is), he’s probably right to be a little nervous about it.

Notably, military courtesy dictates that Havers should have informed his commander that he wanted to put in for a transfer BEFORE doing so. The fact that he doesn’t do so, and in fact waits so long after the fact- not telling the Captain about it until he can piggy back it onto the distraction of the Fall of France, when Cap’s in a relatively upbeat mood due to the possibility of getting to join the fight- that the transfer request is nearly approved, says that he knew or at least suspected that Cap would object and perhaps try to stop him and didn’t want to give him the opportunity to do so.

I think the whole “get in the fight” thing he gives as an excuse for requesting the transfer is a lie. He looks like he feels guilty saying it, and there’s nothing about the way he presents himself that says he’s the sort that’s longing to go out and kill some Germans. I read him as having a sort of gentle, sweet, good humored and conciliatory personality. Not a single word or action he gives in the episode says he’s the kind of guy who joined out of some sort of thirst for adventure or blood lust or whatever. I think he’s saying the lie that he most thinks the Captain would believe, as the Captain clearly desperately wants to be in the fight himself. He also looks like he feels bad when he leaves at the end of the scene, probably because the Captain looks so obviously sad.

The big question is what exactly is going on underneath their relationship dynamic? The Captain’s feelings for Havers are impossible to miss, but does Havers feel them back? I don’t have a conclusive answer to that question, but two possibilities strike me.

 Both of those possibilities have one thing in common, though: whether Havers had feelings for the Captain or not, he did not want the Captain to admit his own feelings to him. I think in the second scene, in Cap’s office, it was the Captain’s intention to admit his feelings to Havers. And after years of repression and knowing the potential consequences for his actions, the fact that he was at least giving it serious consideration says a lot about just how much the Captain liked Havers.

But... when Havers comes in, he tells the Captain he’s leaving that night (and given how quick that was, it occurs to me that it’s possible Havers didn’t tell the Captain about his transfer request until he’d received the answer on it, possibly at the same time the Fall of France message came, but only told the Captain he’d put in the request in the first scene, and waited until that afternoon to say it was approved, to try to give him a bit of time to get used to the idea and lessen the blow a little- or alternatively, to let him think he still had time to stop Havers when he didn’t). And then when the Captain tries to make the conversation the least bit personal, with the ‘I’ll miss you, Havers,’ Havers’ smile wanes and Cap walks it back, correcting it to a ‘we’ll miss you’ with a safe het-masc sports reference for added camouflage. He tries again to broach the topic as Havers is going out the door, ‘I say, Havers,’ but Havers, who usually has nothing but gentle smiles for the Captain, looks entirely unreceptive, and Cap blinks, gives himself the tinniest little sad headshake, and then walks that back, too, saying that it’s a shame they won’t be able to finish the operation together. Only then, once it’s clear that the Captain isn’t going to say anything that would have been deemed inappropriate for the time does he get that smile. (And Havers did have a really nice smile.) (And also, Ben Willbond and Peter Sandys-Clarke do an excellent job in these two scenes saying things with their little facial expressions that their characters for various reasons aren’t able to.)

It’s also notable Havers starts with ‘I’m afraid I’m leaving you, sir,’ and I don’t think it was an accidentally awkward bit of speech, I think he meant it and that he meant it as a hint to the Captain that he couldn’t continue on like that, with the open infatuation and dependence on him.

 But: were the Captain’s feelings returned by Havers or not?

Option 1: I think unlike most of Cap’s command, Havers actually did like and respect him. Havers seems like a kind man, the sort that would view Cap’s oddities as harmless eccentricities rather than causes for derision, and he was patient and gentle with Cap’s probably much-battered ego, and maybe Cap misinterpreted that rarity as his feelings possibly being returned.

If he didn’t return Cap’s feelings… in this case, I think Havers would actually be leaving to protect the Captain, with the knowledge that the longer he stayed, the more likely it would be that Cap would get to the point where he was too unsubtle to ignore, and liable to be reported by one of their subordinates that clearly weren’t thrilled by the Captain’s command in order to get rid of him, in which case there would be an investigation, and if he let it go long enough that the Captain admitted his feelings to Havers and Havers was asked about it during the investigation, he’d be stuck between the rock and the hard place. Denying it would be lying to a superior officer and given the Captain’s lack of subtlety, place suspicion on Havers possibly returning the Captain’s interests, and telling the truth would end up with the Captain chucked out of the army in disgrace and possibly placed in jail. Leaving the Captain was ultimately for the Captain’s own good.

I think this last part can be backed up with the fact that, after all, if Havers didn’t like or want to protect Cap, he could have let that scenario play out, stick around until it became so obvious that someone else reported the Captain or he’d report the Captain himself, and if it got to the feelings confession state, he could have happily told command that the Captain had propositioned him and then been rid of him, and probably get a much more competent CO in exchange, maybe even a promotion to that position himself.  

 Option 2: for those in favor of thwarted gay romance, rather than unrequited gay crushes, it’s also entirely possible that Havers was gay and did like the Captain back, but considered the battle front a safer option than actually letting Cap confess his feelings and having a relationship with him. Again, the penalty for that if they were caught- and they likely would have been caught, as Cap is the least subtle person in existence about his crushes- would be being chucked out of the military, followed by two years hard labor and/or chemical castration. This in turn would quite probably lead to social death and economic ruin, as ‘spent two years in prison turning big rocks into little rocks as punishment for homosexual acts’ isn’t the sort of thing to put on your CV and expect to be hired in a difficult post-war economy. At least not in the 1940s.

And he couldn’t just let Cap confess his feelings and then tell him he liked him back but that there couldn’t be a relationship between them, because one, that would probably crush Cap, and two, I can’t see Cap letting it go at that. He’s never been shown to easily give up on what he wants- carrying on with Operation-Get-Rid-of-Allison long after the others gave up interest in it, for instance- and if he let his feelings about Havers out of the box, I think he’d have trouble putting them back in- and it’s likely his attempts to convince Havers they could make it work would just make everything more obvious and worse.  

 The second option actually makes me sadder, because it would have put the potential for happiness almost but not quite within Cap’s reach.

 Either way, whether he returned them or not, I think Havers ultimately left in order to protect the Captain (and at least to a certain extent himself) from the societal consequences of his own feelings.

 As for the mysterious ‘William’ envelope: were they actually the plans or were they a love letter? I’ve read some debate whether William was Havers’ first name or William really was the name of their project, but why not both? (It’s even entirely possible that Cap named the project after Havers in yet another incredibly unsubtle gesture of his affection, as a few people have mentioned.) I think that the envelope really was the plans, though. It was a pretty full envelope. I think if Cap had worked up the nerve to write a love letter, it would have been more likely to be a love note, after decades of repressing his feelings, and from the bulk of that envelope, that would have to have been more of a love novella.

I think it was the plans, but Cap was looking at it so hard and pondering it so hard, because Havers’ first name on an envelope gave him the idea that even if Havers was leaving, he didn’t necessarily have to lose him, if he confessed his feelings and Havers responded positively, they could at least maintain a correspondence and then when the war was done there would be other options for them having a real relationship. My guess- just head cannon at the moment- is that was his intention. But again, when he tried to go for it with the ‘I’ll miss you’ and it wasn’t well received, he got cold feet.

When Cap tosses the envelope in with the bomb and buries it looking somewhat regretful, the regret is at not having confessed his feelings, and not being able to have that correspondence accordingly.

 I personally head cannon Havers dies in North Africa and Cap strongly regrets not trying to force him to stay or ever telling him how he feels because of, but that’s mostly just my imagination being cruel. He could have lived through it and just never contacted the Captain again. I like the death bit for two reasons, though. Havers being alive at the end of the war might have given the Captain a little hope for the future, for one (and if you haven’t guessed yet, guys, this isn’t going to end well). A big reason though is because the actor who plays Havers, Peter Sandys-Clarke, is the grandson of Lieutenant Willward Sandys-Clarke, who died fighting on the North African front in WWII. LT Sandys-Clarke was awarded the Victoria Cross for his action, which is the highest decoration for military valor you can be awarded in the UK. I’m just going to quote his citation wholesale, as it’s so impressive:

“During an attack on Guiriat el Atach, in Tunisia, on 23rd April, 1943, Lieutenant Sandys-Clarke's company gained their objective, but were counter-attacked and almost wiped out, he alone surviving of the officers. Although wounded, he gathered together a composite platoon and attacked the position again. The platoon was held up by heavy fire from a machine-gun post, which Lieutenant Sandys-Clarke tackled single-handed and knocked out. After personally dealing in the same way with two more machine-guns posts, he led his platoon to the objective. While they were consolidating there, they came under fire from two sniper posts; without hesitation he again advanced single-handed, and was killed within a few feet of the enemy. His quick grasp of the situation and his brilliant leadership undoubtedly restored the situation, while his outstanding bravery and tenacious devotion to duty were beyond praise.”

I think of it as a bit of homage to the actor’s grandfather, having Havers dying gallantly. It couldn’t have happened in quite the same way, of course, because LT Sandys-Clarke was infantry and Havers was artillery, but I like to think he did something heroic before his exit.

 As a final note from Reddy Weddy: on the subject of burying the bomb, it really is a shame Havers didn’t stick around to help Cap dispose of it, because Havers seemed to have better sense than the Captain and probably would have done something saner than just burying it in the backyard, where anyone could have saw him doing it from a window and dug it up later, or accidentally set it off doing something else later, not knowing it was there. Cap didn’t seem to notify anyone that he had buried a secret bomb prototype in that spot, either, as the military likely would have removed it before returning the house to the Buttons if he had.

The only worse options I can think of for bomb disposal are just chucking it out with the rubbish or locking it in a closet like his sexuality (my poor boy). if he still needed it, he should have either had it locked up in a vault only he knew the combination to, or sent it on to one of those secure military warehouses that existed in droves in those days and if he didn’t need it anymore, he should have burned the plans and then taken it out to an empty field away from the house and done a controlled demolition on it. Or if it was a situation somewhere in between, he could have kept the plans in a vault and destroyed the prototype. But my son, my poor semi-incompetent son, he just buries everything in the back yard.

 Stay tuned for the final part, our downer ending, encompassing both the end of the war and the end of Cap’s life, when I get around to finishing writing it. I’ve passed the 10,000 word mark for the entire analysis, though, so that’s something.  

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 20 - Just Kids

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, what consequences?, 4.9k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19

All too soon, two very familiar colors filled the back of the van. Alex’s heart immediately submerged into the dark ocean it always went to in despair, knowing they were all screwed this time. He could already see Bobby pulling onto the shoulder - they didn’t need the sound of sirens to tell them what was up. Willie still seemed like he wasn’t all present, and Alex squeezed his fingers and shook his hands to bring him back to the now. They had really hoped it wouldn’t happen. None of the guys could’ve anticipated the alarm, or that Caleb would be in town when they definitely thought he was gone, or that everything would go wrong.

Not knowing didn’t matter, though. Hours later, all five of them sat inside a holding cell at the LAPD, heads bowed as none of them dared to make eye contact with each other. It was early morning by the time all of them had been processed, and they were all varying levels of exhausted. The time passed at a frustratingly slow pace, although there was no way of telling what time it was. Thankfully, they were the only ones in the cell at the time; if there had been other inmates it would’ve sent Alex’s nerves past their threshold. A guard sat just outside a doorway to the rest of the station while another sat directly outside the cell.

Alex was tempted to wrap his arm around Willie’s shoulders, since he remained dissociated, but the eye contact from the officer sitting across from them was too unsettling. He didn’t like the thought that came through his mind - the one that made him feel like an even worse criminal, even though he knew he wasn’t. Stubbornly, Alex fought to push the feeling away, and settled for putting a hand on Willie’s shoulder. There was almost no reaction, but then Alex saw his brown eyes flicker in his direction and that was all the peace he needed.

“It’s my fault, you guys,” Reggie murmured, barely peering up from where his head hung dejectedly. “I was just so caught up in getting back - ”

“It’s not your fault, Reggie,” Bobby interrupted him gently. “He was waiting for us.”

Luke didn’t speak. His eyes couldn’t leave his empty hands. Alex almost couldn’t look at him; it was a sad image.

They had all been so sure that Caleb was finally out of LA, never spoke about their plans at the studio, had been so careful about the way they acted around him - there was no way. There was just no way that he could’ve been so ready to show up just as they were trying to get the master copies of their album out of his hands. And worse, now Alex had dragged Willie into it, and the guilt mounted even higher from there.

A female officer approached the cell with a clipboard, not bothering to look up from the page she had her eyes glued to.

“Bobby Wilson?”

Bobby raised his head at the sound of his name.

“You have an older brother here to pick you up,” she said monotonously. “You’re free to go.”

The door to the cell was opened and Bobby made his way out in slight confusion. He threw a conflicted look back toward Luke.

“Did he say if I was taking anyone with me?”

“He came for Bobby Wilson and Bobby Wilson only.” Her tone shut down any further questions that he had. Looking back apologetically, his shoulders slumped as Luke shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said, although not as assuring as he likely wanted to be. “I’ll be fine.”

Alex watched as Bobby’s eyes lingered for a few seconds on Reggie, who was still hunched forward with his gaze fixed on the concrete floor. It seemed so uncharacteristic for him, but Alex understood he was probably shutting down at the mere thought of returning home. The emotions ran high enough in his home as it was. They hadn’t really been given options as for who got called when they’d been brought to the police department. Finally, Bobby turned and took the car keys and wallet that had been confiscated and disappeared.

Luke moved closer to Reggie and put a hand on his back, and he began muttering something to him. They were just far enough away that Alex couldn’t properly hear what they were saying.

“Sheldon’s gonna be so freaked out when I get home,” Willie spoke suddenly. Alex turned to see him finally looking around the cell, fully aware of his surroundings.

“Hopefully he’ll be okay,” he assured. “They can only hold us for up to twelve hours; that’s what they said.”

Willie looked at him and nodded, eyes once again immediately training themselves onto empty space.

“How are you doing?” Alex asked carefully. Willie didn’t move his eyes, but he appeared to be brought back into focus again.

“I just have all these images running in my mind,” he said. “Things he did. Things I did. He decided to pretend I was dead rather than deal with my existence. It’s like he was already trying to bury me by taking away any connection to my past. Sometimes I wonder what I was like before the accident. What if I deserved this?”

For a minute, Alex merely sat with his jaw agape, as if he’d been slapped upon hearing what Willie was saying.

“Wha- ? No. Willie, that can’t be right,” he started. “You couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, no matter what happened in the past.”

Willie shook his head.

“I was in the foster system, Alex,” he argued. “From the few things I know, I was passed around a little bit. Caleb was someone who took difficult kids; he had a reputation with social services. I wanted him to be the bad guy because I got a taste of something better, but when I look around, Alex? I have no one to call. Not even family.”

It was the first time Alex had seen tears well up in his eyes since the night at the Stratosphere, but he felt that any comfort he wanted to offer wouldn’t be accepted. All he could do was look back at this beautiful boy who deserved far more than he believed, brow furrowed in silent protest. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Willie had a point. There was a possibility that the guys’ dislike of the man had become biased based on Willie’s story, as unintentional as it may have been. Still, Alex refused to believe that it was because Willie was the real menace.

“Look, we may never know the truth,” he started, trying to look at him as directly as he could. “But I’m the one who got you here; I take responsibility for that. And sometimes having someone to call doesn’t mean they’re there for you.”

Willie gave him a look that was mixed, but he mostly read concern. Frankly, Alex wasn’t sure what his own parents’ reaction would be, but he didn’t dare hope for any sort of understanding.

“Reggie Peters?” The same female officer approached the cell again with her clipboard.

Reggie turned away from his conversation with Luke, sucking in a nervous breath.

“Your mother is here to take you home; you’re free to go.”

Pressing his lips together anxiously, Reggie simply bowed his head as he was escorted out the same way Bobby had been. Luke promptly spread himself out along the bench, pulling his beanie over his face.

For a while, Alex let his mind wander as he kept his hand resting on Willie’s shoulder. What Willie had said made him want to reevaluate the whole situation with Caleb. It wasn’t that he thought Willie was as bad as he said he was, but it stood to be examined. He remembered the difference between his short first impression of the man at the diner, and the second time he’d seen him. He even remembered his own reasoning - how it was possible that Caleb could come off as so severe while running a diner but maintain such charisma while serving guests.

A pang of memory also came as Alex had noted he didn’t seem like a straight man and after months of actually working with him there was even greater evidence toward that notion. It had been what made Alex want to trust him in the beginning. Finding an adult figure who offered him a break from being constantly vigilant about the way he naturally felt had been a blessing. Not even Alex could ignore that. However, something still told him that just because they had that in common didn’t make Caleb trustworthy.

“Luke Patterson?” All three boys looked up in surprise when they heard the officer’s voice a third time. Luke clutched his beanie to his chest, confused most of all as he sat up from the bench. Instead of announcing who had come for him, the officer stepped aside as two familiar faces came toward the cell.

Julie Molina and her Aunt Victoria looked at the boys, both with stern expressions.

“Julie?” Luke uttered in surprise, standing up from the bench and slowly moving toward her. 

Folding her arms, Julie had her eyes fixed on Luke with a brand of disappointment that appeared to burn like acid. She flashed the same look toward Alex for a moment and he was duly stung. Luke could make all the sad, pleading puppy faces he wanted, but ultimately was struck dumb by knowing he had no room to speak.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Julie told him, the chastising tone not to be missed. Luke’s face fell and he hung his head, looking back toward Alex with a similar apologetic look as Bobby had given.

Alex caught Victoria also looking at him. It was still stern, but more in telling him she was let down. Why it compounded his already guilty feelings even more, he couldn’t understand. Her expression changed, however, as she looked at Willie next to him, as though she were trying to recall where she recognized him. Immediately forgetting his guilt for a moment, Alex perked up and subtly pointed a finger toward him, mouthing the name “Willie!” to her. She looked at him incredulously, and it was a shame the officer was already escorting them out with Luke, because he was sure she had questions.

“Was that Julie’s mom?” Willie asked. Startled, Alex looked at him and cleared his throat.

“Ah, no, that was her aunt,” he told him. “Her mom is still in the hospital.”

“Oh,” Willie replied, casting he gaze to where they had left with a look of empathy. “That really sucks.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed.

For the second surprise that night (morning? Alex couldn’t tell), and for the fourth time, the female officer returned.

“William Taylor?”

Willie looked at Alex in utter perplexity, and then back at the officer.

“Um…” he began saying. Before he finished, Flynn came around the corner accompanied by a woman both boys assumed was her mother.

“Hey big bro!” she said in a highly exaggerated tone, sending them a gigantic wink with a grin that was very out of place. “Looks like you messed up big time mister!”

Willie could only stare back in shock. Alex was too busy trying not to laugh at her poor acting skills. It was so obvious that she and Willie weren’t family.

“Hey...sis,” Willie said finally, still unsure what was happening just then.

Holding onto the bars and leaning close into the holding cell, Flynn dropped the grin immediately.

“Julie tipped us off and Alex’s parents aren’t coming, so we’re doing you guys a big favor,” she said to them in a low voice, laying on the irritation and topping it off with a tilt of her head and a smile that suggested murder.

Promptly, Willie stood up and was let out of the cell, still looking at Flynn and her mom in bewilderment. Alex sat with his hands folded in uncertainty.

“Him too,” Flynn’s mom nodded toward him. The officer opened the door for him and Alex sighed as he came out, realizing just how high his nerves had really been while sitting there for the past few hours. He could suddenly feel the blood rushing into his fingers again.

As he and Willie followed Flynn and her mom outside, he wasn’t surprised that his parents had opted not to come get him. If he guessed right, his father would’ve refused to go in some backward attempt to show tough love, and his mother would’ve been barred from going herself to show she agreed with the choice. Both he and Willie thanked Flynn’s mom as they sat in the back seat of her van.

Flynn turned around in the passenger seat as they drove off and Alex knew what was coming.

“How many times am I gonna save your ass?” she directed at Willie.

“Language, honey,” her mom warned. Flynn rolled her eyes, but backed down a little.

Willie smiled nervously at her.

“Third time’s a charm?” he offered with little confidence.

“There better not be a third time,” she cautioned. “Seriously, what were you thinking?”

Alex opened his mouth to respond but she put up a hand.

“Actually, save it. Anything I have to say is just what Julie will say to you guys later, and she’s the one who’s really mad at you. Right now, I’ve got permission to skip school and I’m not gonna waste it lecturing you two.”

Sharing a look with Willie, both boys were happy to at least not have to endure Julie’s wrath right that minute. It was only imaginable what Luke was going through at the moment.

“So, how did you know I was there?” Willie asked.

Flynn leaned back into the correct position in her seat and took in a deep breath.

“Julie’s aunt is supposed to be on sabbatical, but apparently she can’t stop doing little bits of work here and there. She’s an investigator. Anyway, I guess she was doing something at ungodly hours on a Sunday night for God knows why, and she was already in the station when Sunset Gets-Caught-Being-Stupid was brought in. I guess she tried to make sure nobody called the Pattersons because she promised Julie she won’t, and she found out there was a fifth kid with no emergency contact so she had Julie call me, and I had to wake up at six-thirty this morning to an angry Julie and while I, for one, don’t care that you were trying to steal something, the way y’all did it was just so dumb, I can’t even stand to look at y’all - ”

“Okay, we get it,” Alex interrupted.

“But the important thing is,” Flynn continued. “We can’t take you guys home. Sorry.”

“Wait, why not?” Alex asked.

“I have one hour before I need to be in the office,” Flynn’s mom told them. “So I’m putting my girl in charge of you two for the day.”

Flynn looked back at them smugly.

“Oh, I’m putting you two to work,” she said, not hiding how much she enjoyed being in a position of power.

Alex could only gesture with his hands in a manner of saying “ah, well,” and sighing in acceptance. This was loads better than dealing with his parents for the time being. And Willie seemed to have finally broken entirely out of the strange trance he’d been in ever since they’d seen Caleb.

“Do we get a nap first?” Willie asked. “‘Cuz we’ve been awake all night.”

Flynn’s eyebrows shot up in realization and she flopped back into her seat again with a sigh.

“That’s fair.”

It was well past noon by the time Alex opened his eyes. They had thanked Mrs. Taylor and then immediately passed out on the living room couch. Barely gaining his bearings, he found Willie still zonked on the opposite arm of the couch. He couldn’t help but admire his sleeping form, so much calmer than any other time he knew. The sunlight streaming in from the blinds glanced perfectly off his cheekbones and highlighted the rich brown tones in his hair. Alex had been struck by how handsome he was from the second they met at the diner, but he’d hardly gotten a moment to properly appreciate how beautiful he was.

Somehow there was something so lonely about him that brought an ache to Alex’s chest. Their conversation from earlier replayed in his mind. Willie really seemed to believe he didn’t belong anywhere when the only thing Alex wanted in the whole world was to keep him tightly in his arms. He really hoped to show Willie how much he meant to him some day. 

“Oh my god, you are so in love with him,” he heard Flynn saying as she stood at the edge of the living room. He was too tired to give a proper response and could only turn to her still wearing a look of fondness. “Oh my god, stop, you are so precious!”

All Alex could do was lightly chuckle in return. Flynn tilted her head adoringly.

“And to think I was there from the beginning,” she reminisced.

Alex had a realization hit.

“I never said thank you, did I?”

She shrugged.

“No. But now you get to pay me back by doing all the chores my mom left for you.”

Heaving a sigh, Alex sank back into the couch and pressed his lips together, already reeling from exhaustion.

“Yep,” he muttered before reaching over and grabbing Willie’s hand, gently shaking it to kindly wake him up.

“Sheldon...stop,” Willie groaned as his tired face pinched together against the light. Alex giggled as he leaned over and tried shaking his shoulder instead.

“Hey, it’s me,” he said in a low voice, watching as Willie’s eyes fluttered open and immediately gazed back into his face. The absolutely enamoured smile that spread from cheek to cheek as he took in Alex’s face framed with his hair hanging down was more than Alex could take, and he felt honest-to-God butterflies in his stomach.

“Hey,” Willie murmured, his voice a pitch lower than usual from being asleep with just the right amount of vocal fry. It took all of Alex’s strength not to smother him right there on the couch.

“I really do hate to break this up, you lovebirds,” Flynn told them. “But it’s time to get to work!” She clapped her hands and the boys clambered off the couch, still sharing admiring looks at each other. She led them through her house, listing off the many things her mom had demanded: cleaning bathrooms, weeding the garden, and mowing the lawn were all there.

“And last but not least,” Flynn was saying as she led them upstairs. She flung the door open to an unfurnished room with bare walls and plastic covering the floor. “Painting!”

Alex saw Willie’s face transform from bleary task mode to shining with joy at the prospect of getting to paint. He wasn’t sure what it was, but everything Willie did was making him fall even further in a way he hadn’t thought possible. They were doing household chores for heaven’s sake. It made him consider doing all the rest of the chores just to let Willie do something he enjoyed. After seeing his reaction to Caleb, Alex thought it would lift his spirits more than anything.

“I say we divide and conquer then?” he suggested, putting a hand on Willie’s shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. Willie tore his eyes away from the unpainted walls to give Alex a puzzled look.  Before he could ask questions, though, Alex simply looked him directly in the eyes and nodded toward the room before them, insisting he stay and paint without saying a word. He saw Willie’s expression soften and one corner of his mouth turn up in a delighted smirk once he understood the message.

“Okay,” Willie muttered to him, facing the bare walls with newfound glee.

Willie watched Alex head back down the stairs and he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend as much time with him as possible - looking into that angelic face as he’d woken up had spun his head more than anything else in his life - but it was just the thought of how he was suddenly in Alex’s world and it was so...different. It vaguely reminded him of hanging out with everyone after the show at the Pearl, but it appeared to be so much deeper and so tight-knit. Julie and Flynn and their families went so far as to stick out their necks for the guys when they really had messed up, and it wasn’t even an obligation. Even being made to do housework for people who were still practically strangers to him felt like he was being taken in with open arms. He had the intruding thought that he’d eventually wear out his welcome.

“So, are we painting everything the same?” he asked Flynn, rubbing his hands together. Flynn wagged a finger and smiled with excitement.

“No,” she teased. Going over to a corner, she lifted two cans of paint, handing one of them to him. Looking at the swatch smeared on the top of the lid, Willie smiled to see a lovely teal, and then sunflower yellow on the can in Flynn’s hands.

“Oooh yes, these are some good choices,” he said, rolling up a sleeve with his free hand. All the worried thoughts could be put aside as they began popping the lids off and mixing the paint. “Have you got a hair tie I could borrow?”

“There is something about a boy asking me that question that just feels amazing,” Flynn commented as she briefly headed out to fetch one. Giggling at her remark, Willie lifted the paint mixer and watched the color drip into the can in fascination. There was something familiar about the notion of painting that made him wonder if it was something he’d done often before. Before forgetting. Would putting the brush in his hand unleash some kind of muscle memory or sense of nostalgia for something he didn’t know he had? Flynn returned with the hair tie and handed it to him, and he immediately pulled his hair back into a small bun.

“Alright, so these walls are gonna be the teal green color,” Flynn instructed, pointing toward the walls furthest from the window. “And these over here are gonna be yellow. I’ll start with the yellow and meet you at the corner, sound good?” Willie nodded at her as she moved her paint supplies over to the opposite side of the room, putting her braids up into a ponytail as well.

“Copy that,” Willie replied.

Once the paint was all mixed they got to work, both silently focused on the task at hand. For a while, all that could be heard was the repetitive swipe of brushes against the texture of the wall. There had been no sweeping rush like Willie imagined, but a gentle comfort quickly took over as he watched the color fill the empty space. He heard a loud buzzing outside and for a moment, peeked out the window to see Alex steady at work mowing the lawn below.

“So,” Flynn started, almost making him jump as he turned his attention to her. “It looks like our skater boy likes to paint; do you do art too? I saw your face.”

Chuckling, Willie hadn’t realized he’d gotten himself stuck in a situation that warranted friendly banter. Out of all of Alex’s friends, though, she was the one he’d seen the most, now that he thought about it. Despite how aggressive she had appeared at first, he really enjoyed her energy.

“Yeah, actually I draw. A lot,” he told her.

“Nice!” she nodded. “What kind of stuff do you draw?”

“People...places,” he said thoughtfully as he continued painting. “Memories.”

Flynn kept nodding, her expression becoming more pensive. “Cool.... Memories are interesting. Did you do a lot of cool things when you were little?”

Willie chewed on his tongue for a minute, realizing she still didn’t know. Even now that he’d been away from Caleb for a while and Alex’s reaction had been so kind, sometimes speaking of his amnesia still felt like something that wasn’t allowed. Regardless, it was a pretty important detail.

“I actually don’t know,” he stated. Flynn’s eyebrows knit together in response. “I was in an accident a little over a year ago, and I don’t remember anything - well, I remember a few things, but not a lot. Whatever I can figure out, I try to draw it so it stays with me.”

She gave him a long sympathetic look. Every time it was different; Alex had been a little shocked but then really sweet, Bessie had merely brushed over it like it wasn’t anything crazy, and now Flynn had her big brown eyes staring with such sadness in them. Again, he wondered how much he had really lost along with his memory. It seemed to be a thing everyone else could properly mourn, knowing the difference, but he couldn’t no matter how much he tried.

“That’s really awful,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Willie only nodded, accepting her words.

“It sucks, but I manage,” he said. They both resumed painting after noticing they had stopped for a moment.

“I mean, you made it here, which is pretty amazing,” Flynn told him. “Well, not here as in we just picked you up from the police station, but you know, you left Vegas and have your sweet job at the record shop.”

He shrugged, trying to be casual. Those thoughts were getting to him today in a way they hadn’t ever before. The ones that said he was still messing everything up anyway. He was just in a different city with a different job. It was great that he’d miraculously found Alex, which had been his entire goal, but now that he’d passed that step in his plan, life went on. And it hadn’t really become so different, now that Caleb had his hands on things again. There were still so many questions about that as well, because he really did wonder if maybe he had made everything out to be worse in his mind. Caleb had been his guardian for three years and Willie was one of numerous kids - he couldn’t be that insidious, could he?

“I said, ‘you’re dripping paint on your shirt!’” Flynn repeated to him, enunciating loudly and snapping him out of his train of thought.

“Oh,” he started, looking down at his now ruined shirt and then continuing to work on the wall. He could live with it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just keep thinking.”

“Uh huh. Whole lot of nothing to think about in there.”

Willie shot her a slightly wounded look. She rolled her eyes.

“Sarcasm, sorry. Looks like you have so much on your mind you can’t even function. So what’s up?”

He looked at her, unsure where to begin. It was great that she seemed easy to trust, because it made him less hesitant about talking, but he didn’t want to turn the painting session into something else. His mouth betrayed him though.

“I just keep thinking that maybe I have everything wrong and I brought all the guys down with me,” he confessed. Flynn didn’t respond, but listened quietly. “I met Alex and it was amazing! And I got it in my head that maybe being here with him would make everything better. But it looks like I’m just a bad influence.”

Flynn had nodded along until that last sentence, to which she tilted her head and squinted.

“Hold up,” she said. “Alex told me Caleb was your guardian, right?”

Willie nodded.

“Who also told Alex you were dead for no good reason?”

He nodded again.

“And you think you’re the bad guy here?” She had set down her brush and placed her hands on her hips.

Taking in a deep breath, Willie prepared to explain.

“Well - ”

Flynn simply held up both hands to shut him up.

“Willie. Buddy. You’re just a kid.”

You’re just a kid.

The words echoed around in his brain for a little bit as he let them settle in. She was right. Somehow he’d lost sight of that.

“You made some mistakes, I get it,” she continued. “But you’re not the bad guy. You’re still figuring things out. Actually, you know what I first thought of you? Well, actually, my first thought was that you were some creep who was trying to get into my friend’s concert, but after that, you know who I saw? A really good guy trying to show someone he cared. And bad people don’t do that.”

For a long time Willie just stared back at her in amazement. Somehow Flynn had managed to completely obliterate any other self-deprecating thought he had. It was the most human he’d felt all day. There was a sticky thud as his brush landed on plastic and he rushed to throw his arms around her.

“Oh!” she cried in surprise, slowly accepting the hug in return and patting his back. Willie squeezed her tightly and then stepped back, chuckling to himself as a small wave of embarrassment hit.

“Julie has good taste in friends,” he told her. “You’re really good at those pep talks.”

Flynn beat her chest with her palm and graciously took the compliment.

“Thank you.”

Willie picked up his brush again and continued working. He almost laughed when he had the thought that while he technically already had a boyfriend, Flynn was his first real friend. He was going to make that count.

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 18 “I can’t see” 

burning, crying, allergies 

summary

“No, Tony,” says Peter. He pulls his hands back up to his eyes. “I’m not crying… I just, my eyes are burning… like I have allergies.”

“I can’t see,” says Peter, more water leaking from his eyes. His voice sounds a bit wheezy too, and he notices that his breathing isn’t as easy as it had been just an hour ago, when he had been outside.

“What? Did you give yourself a stress migraine? Maybe you should take a break, and we’ll get back on the schoolwork tomorrow…”

OR

Peter and the Starks discover he has a new spider-related allergy to deal with.

Flames eat the logs in the makeshift fireplace, and Peter’s mesmerized by it. He watches it with a contentment in his chest that he’s got no business feeling. He’s got way too much to do to feel this peaceful, and yet he doesn’t think it’s possible to feel any other way.

Ditching New York and driving down to Tony’s cabin for the weekend had been intended to help focus on his studying, to create a distraction free environment to power through an essay and a project he’d been avoiding for weeks.

But that hadn’t been what happened.

Instead he’d been greeted by Tony standing over the grill and Morgan jumping up and down, believing he was there simply to play with her. Peter is never great about saying no, so they swam in the lake while Tony grilled up their dinner, and once it got dark, Tony had sent Peter to the barn to haul some firewood and Pepper had built the bonfire.

The bug spray Tony had forced on him made him sneezy, but no matter how determined Peter was to dodge him and the spray bottle, the man hadn’t been persuaded to let him get away with going without it.

“That’s the only bad thing about spring down here,” Pepper had told him, at least looking at Peter with some sympathy after Tony had attacked him with the insect repellent. “The bugs are unstoppable. We had to have a team come out and treat the house yesterday.”

They had roasted marshmallows and eaten smores. They had told stories and laughed, and despite being sneezy and unproductive, Peter had had a good time. A quality Friday night, with his second family, but as the flames start to die out, Peter comes to terms with the fact that it’s over and it’s time to start on his projects.

“You’re so boring,” Tony tells him, after Peter announces he’s leaving him to hit his books. “And responsible.”

Pepper pokes Tony with a roasting stick. “Leave him alone.”

“I’m not really that responsible,” says Peter, lifting himself out of the lawn chair. “I waited until the last minute.”

“You’re getting it done,” says Pepper. “That’s all that matters now.”

Pepper offers to mentor him in time management, while Tony rambles about how he could always just start in the morning and wing it, and while Morgan takes advantage of her parents not paying attention to poke at the dying fire with a stick, causing ashes and sparks to fly.

Eventually, he manages to stumble into the house and set up a study station with his laptop, his school books, his highlighters and pens and multiple notebooks. He organizes his materials, arranges his notecards, and he’s ready to begin.

Except he’s not.

He’s just staring at his blank Google docs screen. He tries to switch to taking notes from his textbook, but the words jumble on the page and his eyes get blurry. They get blurry and watery and they don’t stop until he’s got actual tears streaming down his face, until they’re burning and no amount of rubbing them relieves them.

“Pete?”

Peter recognizes that it’s Tony’s voice, but that’s just it, he’s got to rely on his ears to do his seeing for him, as his eyes are useless. He doesn’t respond. Just buries his face into his hands and claws at his eyes.

“Kid,” says Tony. He grips his shoulder and sits down next to him. “Are you crying?”

He jabs at his eyes some more until Tony pries them away.

“It’s okay if you need help on your projects,” says Tony. “Between me and Pepper you’ve got one point five responsible adults to help you out.”

“I can’t see,” says Peter, more water leaking from his eyes. His voice sounds a bit wheezy too, and he notices that his breathing isn’t as easy as it had been just an hour ago, when he had been outside.

“What? Did you give yourself a stress migraine? Maybe you should take a break, and we’ll get back on the schoolwork tomorrow…”

“No, Tony,” says Peter. He pulls his hands back up to his eyes. “I’m not crying… I just, my eyes are burning… like I have allergies.”

As if on cue, he sneezes.

“Allergies? But you were fine outside…” Tony’s voice trails off, and it’s as if it clicks together in both their heads at the same time.

Tony grips his arm, pulls him to his feet, and directs him through the house and out the front door, where a welcome fresh breeze hits him and combs through his hair.

He sits on the porch swing, and after only a few seconds, he blinks and the burning in his eyes reduces to only an itch.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” says Peter, with a breath. “Way better.”

“Fantastic,” says Tony. “You’re allergic to insecticide.”

Peter groans. Just another way his spider DNA makes him weak to completely normal, everyday substances.

“So earlier when you were spraying me down with bug spray,” says Peter. He blinks, trying to get his eyes back to normal. “You were actually trying to kill me.”

“Shame it wasn’t successful,” says Tony, without missing a beat.

“Rude,” says Peter. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Tony. “The real question is whether or not I love you enough to try and invent a bug spray you aren’t allergic to, or if I let the mosquitoes feast on your blood.”

“Mosquitoes carry diseases. I could die.”

“Well I guess that pretty much forces my hand, doesn’t it?”

Peter laughs, then gets lost in thought. “Do you think mosquitoes turn into mosquito-spiders when they suck my blood?”

“Kid.” A look of pure terror crosses Tony’s face, and he shakes his head. “I’m gonna have nightmares now.”

*

“Peter.”

He looks up from the tent he’s assembling. Among the tarps and the connectors and the poles, Morgan stands wearing her pajamas and her Spider-Man slippers.

“I’m so happy you’re allergic to Repel,” she tells him. “Now we get to camp out outside and sleep in sleeping bags! It’s so awwessome.”

“Thanks, Mo,” says Peter. “I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome,” she sings, and breaks out into the Disney song as she dances away.

The Moana song will be stuck in Peter’s head all night now, and he’s humming it under his breath when Tony comes by and drops some lanterns on the ground next to where Peter’s trying to work.

“Really gotta stop letting her play that movie all day,” says Tony.

“Like you can tell her no,” jokes Peter.

“Yeah. Good point.”

They work together quietly, and are able to assemble the family sized tent they will spend the night in, by moon and lantern light. Only Pepper opts to stay in the house, firmly stating that if she were meant to be sleeping on the ground, she would have been born centuries earlier.

Morgan’s the first to fall asleep once inside the tent and cuddled inside her sleeping bag. She manages to be completely knocked just after declaring she’ll stay up the longest.

Tony kisses the top of her head, and Peter feels guilty when he rearranges to get comfortable.

“You don’t really have to sleep out here, on the ground, with us,” says Peter. “Just cause I’m allergic to your house.”

“Are you kidding me?” says Tony. “This is great.”

“Great? Really?”

“Yeah,” says Tony. “Never really got to do this stuff with my dad. Figured I should give it a try, even if it’s hell on my back.”

Peter laughs.

“So,” says Tony. “You gonna tell me what’s the deal with the homework?”

“Homework?”

“Why all of the sudden you’re mister wait until the last minute.”

“Oh,” says Peter. He stares up at the tarp. The shadow of the tree is visible thanks to the rays of moonlight. They sway with a gentle breeze, and Peter decides he’s got no choice but to be honest. “I can’t really concentrate on things… you know, ever since getting back.”

“That’s normal.”

Peter nods against his pillow. Of course he knows it, always has known that returning from the dust wouldn't be as easy as opening his eyes after a nap, but it’s nice to hear someone say it out loud. Someone he respects as much as he respects Tony.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier when you weren’t crying,” says Tony. “I’ll help you with your projects, even if it’s just bringing you coffee and keeping you on task.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

It’s a solution Peter would’ve been too ashamed to ask for without any prompting, but one he’ll gladly accept if it means putting the semester behind him.

“Thanks, Tony. I could really use the help.”

“Yep,” says Tony. “You know now that you’re allergic to bug spray I have the perfect keep Peter away spray. Every time I want to keep my fridge stocked I can just have the house treated for insects.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Can I have that engraved on a trophy?”

“Sure,” says Peter. “Why not?”

Tony laughs, and the tent grows quiet, except for the branches above them, still being brustled by the wind, and the lake, the calm ripples of water against shore. It’s a great thing, he thinks, before he drifts off, to be allergic to bug spray, just for this moment.

[slyttherins]

Unexpected flame (part 1) | Fred Weasley x Sirius Black’s daughter

December 1993

This year, Christmas fell on a full moon. Remus felt guilty about leaving Juliet for the holidays, but he had no other choice. Staying with her on a full moon was dangerous and endangering her was the last thing he - and Sirius - wanted.

''It's okay. You can't control the moon.''

''Wish I could.'' Remus flashed her a sad, apologetic smile. Although he had grown to accept his fate - or curse -, he still hated that part of himself. The wolf. ''Have you packed your bags yet? The train is leaving tomorrow morning, right?'' he asked, changing the subject.

''Yes.''

''Good.'' Remus nodded. ''I talked to Molly, she'll be picking you up at Kings Cross.''

In the red leather chair, Juliet sighed. Much like Remus, she didn't like when people made a big fuss or went out of their way for her. It made her very uncomfortable. ''I could've stayed at school, you know. Some students stay here for Christmas.''

Remus brushed her off with a whisk of his hand. ''Nonsense. Molly and Arthur promised it was no trouble. And, you and Ginny are good friends. You'll have great fun at the Weasleys','' he promised.

''I'll miss you.''

''Me too, darling.''

''Remus?''

''Yes?''

''If he returns-''

''I'll send an immediate owl to the Weasleys and let you know.''

.

Ginny by her side, Juliet joined the rest of the Weasleys after getting down the train. There were so many students at the station, but, lucky for her, their red hair were easy to spot in a crowd.

A round woman with a bright smile and ginger hair was waiting on the side. She greeted each of the kids with a tight hug, happy to see them after four months away from home.

''And you must be Juliet?'' she said, seeing familiar a pair of grey eyes. ''I haven't seen you in so long. It's crazy how you've grown!''

Juliet smiled politely, having very few memories of the woman. ''Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weasley.''

''It’s no problem. Remus is a friend of family and we’re always there for family. You can call me Molly.''

.

''You’ll be staying in Ginny’s room. It’s on the first floor,'' Mrs. Weasley announced when they crossed the Burrow's front door. She looked around, searching for her daughter who was a couple meters behind, struggling with her own bags. Why did she bring so much stuff? ''Ginny! Can you help Juliet set a bed? I've put extra blankets and everything you'll need on your desk.''

The younger Weasley nodded and grabbed Juliet's hand and led her up the stairs, excited to have a friend over and having a sleepover.

The room was small - not to say tiny - which was to be expected with such a huge family. The girls put their stuff away and set Juliet’s bed right by Ginny’s. It was a bit cramped, but it was only for a couple days.

Once everything was set, Juliet came back down and followed the yummy smell to the kitchen.

''Where's Ginny?'' Molly asked.

''Bathing. Neville wasn't sitting when the train took off and spilled pumpkin juice on her shirt,'' Juliet explained, shaking her head at Neville's mishaps. That boy was so clumsy!

''Well, come and sit. Dinner should be ready soon.''

Juliet pulled one of the many mismatched chairs and sat down. One of the twins was at the table, but she couldn’t tell if it was Fred or George. Hopefully by the end of the stay she’ll be able to tell them apart.

''So...you’re Black’s daughter?'' Fred asked as he subtly tried to steal some cookies that were cooling on the counter while his mother's back was turned.

Since Sirius' escape from Azkaban, it was difficult not to bring up her father every time Juliet mentioned her name. It didn't help that she looked so much like him. She had become well known over the past year despite Remus' attempt to hide her from the wizarding world. Not the magic, but people.

Although the Black family was part of the sacred twenty-eight and very high in the wizarding world's hierarchy, Sirius Black was considered a traitor. Therefore, as his daughter, Juliet was considered as so too. People could be so vile and quick to judge - even toward a fourteen years old girl.

Fred, though, didn't mean any harm.

''In the flesh,'' Juliet responded proudly.

''What does it feels to have a father on the run?''

''Fred! Don’t harass our guest,'' Molly warned, eyes on the cooking pot. ''And don't think I didn't see you stealing cookies.''

The two teenagers chuckled.

''It’s fine, Mrs- Molly. It doesn't bother me. I can handle the questions.''

''Well, you two can do that later. Dinner is ready.'' She turned to her son. ''Go get your father, he's in the yard studying another bizarre muggle invention he got his hands on.''

Fred left and she then proceeded to call out the rest of the kids, making Juliet jump. She had not expected Molly to have such a loud voice.

Seconds later, everyone stumbled in the kitchen, scurrying for seats. Ginny, freshly out of her bath, sat next to Juliet, telling her all about the delicious dish her mom had prepared tonight - and the desert. Ron arrived next, sitting on her other side and making a dash for the bread in the center of the table, taking a big bite and chewing like a cow. How charming.

''Apparently it's called a toaster. You put bread in it and it springs up when they are grilled and ready. It's bloody brilliant!'' Mr. Weasley explained as he walked in, Fred on his heels. He kissed his wife’s cheek and made his way to the table where all the kids were. ''Smells good in here.''

''I've never met him. Sirius. He was wrongly sent to Azkaban before I was old enough to remember him. I've only seen him in pictures,'' Juliet told Fred when he sat down beside his twin.

''Our father says he killed thirteen muggles and an old friend, Peter Pettigrew,'' Percy said, reaching for a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

''Percy...'' Mr. Weasley warned loosely.

''There is no proof. There was no body-'' the raven haired girl defended, only to be interrupted by Percy.

''Where is Pettigrew then?'' he asked with an eyebrow raised, scoffing when Juliet didn't respond. ''Sirius Black is a murderer. I hope the dementors find him very soon and put him back where he belongs. He deserves to rot in Azkaban for his crimes.''

Tears welled in Juliet's eyes at Percy's words and accusations, but she refused to let them spill. Was this what Percy really thought? Or was he repeating what he's heard from his father and other wizards?

''Percy!'' Molly scolded. ''That is no table talk.''

.

By 10pm, Ginny had already gone to bed, tired from the day. Juliet had been a bit bummed, but she stayed downstairs with the other Weasleys. Ron and George were disputing a game of chess in the living area, making the most of the time they had left before their bedtime. She had watched them for a few minutes, but then decided to get some fresh air.

She sat on the small wooden patio and raised her eyes to watch the stars, secretly hoping she could put her astronomy lessons to application. Since she was a kid, Juliet always loved looking at the starry night sky. It helped calm her mind. Maybe it was part of her bloodline? The Blacks had a penchant for astronomical names and took their names from stars or constellations. Even Juliet had carried on with the tradition. It was subtle, but Sirius had chosen the name very carefully.

''What are you doing out here?'' Fred asked, coming from behind. He had a thick sweater - most likely knitted by Molly -, shielding him from the late night air.

''Looking at the stars, although I can’t seem to find any stars I’m looking for tonight.'' Juliet frowned, disappointed and annoyed. ''I thought it'd be easy. I’m usually pretty fast at finding stars and even constellations in Astronomy class...''

''Ah! That’s because Professor Sinistra makes sure what you’re looking for can be seen from where you are. I'll help you.''

Fred took a seat beside her and looked up. He had never been an astronomy nerd, but he could recognize a few. Constellations were harder to find though.

The sky above the burrow was almost always clear which made it easy to see the stars. The view was even better from Ron's bedroom, being on the highest floor of the house.

Fred felt himself close having a crick in his neck when he finally found what he was looking for. A smirk curled on his lips. ''Can you see that one? Over the pond, right beside the Orion constellation.'' He pointed his index in the direction, helping the younger witch find her way in the night sky.

Juliet followed Fred's direction and nodded. ''The one that shines so bright it's almost blue?''

''Yeah. It's the Dog Star, also called-''

''Sirius,'' the raven haired girl finished with a smile, amazed by her new find. She had been trying to find her father's star for months, but Grimmauld Place wasn't ideal for stargazing and she didn't dare ask Professor Sinistra, worried she wouldn't help her because of the star's name.

''How did you know it was that one? Are you a secret nerd, Weasley?''

Fred shook his head, looking down with a small laugh. ''No. You should see my marks... But Bill, my older brother, had an astronomy phase a few years ago. He had a telescope in his room and all. From what I remember, the Sirius star is part of Canis Major which is a winter and spring star pattern. Sirius is the constellation's dog’s nose.''

''Thank you. For showing me this. It’s rare these days that when someone brings up my father’s name it doesn’t have murderer or criminal in the same sentence.''

''Sorry about what Percy said during dinner. He’s a git sometimes. Don’t listen to him.'' Fred didn’t have to apologize on his brother’s behalf, but wanted to, knowing Percy was stubborn and would never. Whether he believed Sirius was guilty or not, he didn’t have to be so cold and crude.

''Perhaps he’s right.'' Juliet sighed, putting her head in her hands in despair. ''I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.''

''It’s okay to be confused. The whole situation feels like it’s missing pieces of the puzzle,'' Fred admitted, platonically putting a hand on her thigh, trying to bring her comfort.

Juliet raised her head and stared ahead. ''If he didn’t kill Pettigrew, where is he? No one has seen him since that night at London. All that was left was his finger.'' The frustration and desperation were clear in her voice.

Fred wished he had answers for her, but he was just as in the dark as everybody else. ''What does Remus think of this?''

''That he’s innocent.''

When she turned old enough to understand what Azkaban was, Remus had revealed her father's whereabouts. He had insisted to be the one to break the news to her, not wanting untrusty wizards or loud mouths - or worse, students - to twist the truth. He told her about the Potters, about...Voldemort, and the wizarding war. Nothing was very jolly, but Remus insisted that she knew. Most importantly, that she knew her father had been accused of crimes he didn't commit.  

Fred thought for a moment, putting his words together. ''Want to know what I think?'' She nodded, turning to look at him with her grey irises. ''I think Remus is the only person alive that knows Sirius well enough to judge your father's intentions and what he's capable of. I also think there a hidden part to every story.''

Juliet frowned, confused. ''I don't get what you're trying to say...''

''I don't think Remus would feed you lies solely to make your father look like a good man to your eyes. If Sirius really did kill those people, he would've warned you about him being the dangerous murderer the Ministry claim him to be.''

[kyber-crystal]

Back To You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.3k

Summary: In which he realizes he’s been chasing after the wrong girl all this time, and finally realizes who he’s really meant to be with in the end.

Warnings: angst, fluff ending lol

A/N: this is one of my older oneshots published on wattpad and I was too lazy to edit before publishing this, so I apologize for the shit writing loolll

"Peggy?"

"Steve? Is that really you?" Her jaw almost dropped to the ground in shock as she blinked several times, unable to believe what she was seeing.

"Yeah," the super soldier chuckles, quickly embracing her and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, "It's me."

"But how is it possible? I thought you were dead...that you wouldn't be able to come back..."

"We did it. We took down Thanos and his army, and the stones granted me the ability to time travel," he explained, "I knew I had to check on you to see if you were okay."

"I'm just glad you're back," Peggy mumbled into his chest as his arms wrapped around her tightly. "I'm so glad you're back."

But as time passed, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He should be happy that he was finally with with the one woman who he thought he'd never see again, but something felt off. Why didn't it feel right?

If anything, he should've been as overwhelmed with joy as he was in the beginning compared to now, but he wasn’t.

He tried his hardest to ignore the one answer stuck in the back of his head and attempts to instead, focus on Peggy who's catching him up on what happened while he was gone over dinner.

"Steve? Are you alright?" she tilted her head to the side slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"What? No, I'm okay," he shook his head, "don't worry."

"Something's bothering you..." she pointed out as she took a sip of her coffee, "what is it? You know you can tell me anything."

"I can't," Steve exhaled, "it wouldn't do you any good."

"...It's about those you left behind, isn't it?" she guessed. "Your team...and Y/N, specifically..."

His silence was all Peggy needed to confirm the answer to her question.

"I know," she spoke softly, causing him to look up from his plate in surprise. "I've known all along."

"How did you..."

"I can tell by the look in your eyes. You still love her, and regret leaving her," she stated, "you wish to go back."

"I'm sorry-" he began.

"There's no need to be sorry," she reassured him, placing a hand on top of his, "it's okay. I'd rather have you be happy with the one you love the most instead of living out the rest of your life in guilt and regret. You can stay another night and get some rest, and leave tomorrow if you'd like."

"Thank you," he murmured.

The next day came and went, and after an exchange of goodbyes Steve was back with the Time Stone gripped in his hand, traveling back to the future that you were left behind in.

...

Six months have passed since he left.

Six months have passed since he broke your heart and left without an explanation.

Six months have passed since he went back in time to go be with Peggy Carter, and you were broken.

During that time, none of the team knew what they could possibly do to help and for once, even Sam and Bucky don't have any sarcastic comments to throw at you. Tony doesn't know what to do, either. Seeing the woman he'd mentored for so long fall to pieces over one man makes him wonder if there's something he didn't teach you correctly, if him not teaching you how not to let yourself go stir-crazy over almost losing the love of your life was the best idea or not.

He wonders if you'd felt this way all this time, but then he confirms that you did when he looks back to all the times you'd spent together and realized you had. And it was too late now, because he'd left. Gone without a trace.

You're all spending the weekend at Tony's cabin in the woods. While Clint, Natasha, Bucky, Peter and Pietro are roped into a tea party with Morgan and all her stuffed animals, you simply stood by the lake and stared blankly ahead at the view, wishing for him to come back; though you knew the chances of that happening weren't too high. For some reason, though, you refused to give up hope - you were in denial.

But a sudden whirring noise coming from the time machine makes everyone stop what they're doing. Your heart practically stops when you see an all-too familiar, broad-shouldered and muscular figure you thought you'd never see again step down from the platform.

"Cap?"

"Steve?"

"What are you doing here?"

The shock is evident in everyone else's expressions as they all gather around to welcome him back with warm greetings, but this quickly dies down when they notice the downcast look painted on his face as he clutches the green Time Stone in his hand.

"You left," you stated bitterly. "And now you decide to show up, all of a sudden? Is this some sort of sick joke?"

Steve makes his way towards you and you look down, refusing to meet his piercing gaze which you know will have your heart racing within seconds. He tries to take your hands in his but you quickly push them away, swallowing hard as you struggled to hold your tears back.

"Y/N, come on, look at me," he pleaded. "I'm sorry."

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head wildly, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. Your throat feels tight and constricted when you finally decide to look up at his crystal-clear blue eyes, those same eyes that had made contact with yours so many times over the years since you'd first joined the initiative. Those eyes that would never fail to make your heart skip a beat, no matter what happened.

Suddenly you can't breathe, the act of taking a simple breath growing more and more difficult by the second, the act of holding yourself back from breaking down into heaving sobs growing increasingly impossible.

"Why? Why did you have to leave me hanging like that? It's hard enough pretending to be friends with someone I'm so in love with, because every time I look at that person, all I see is everything I want to have," you choked out, "You left, Steve. You left without any explanation as to why the hell you were going back. And you're expecting me to forgive you that easily?"

"I made a mistake," he admitted with a pained expression on his face, "I thought I knew what I was doing, but I didn't. I thought I was doing the right thing by following my head, but I wasn't listening to my heart, that told me I was and always would be, in love with you."

"If you really cared, then you never would've left in the first place. She was your first choice, Steve, not me. If you really cared, it would've been the other way around. I thought maybe, you'd be the first one to ever care about me so deeply, but I guess I was wrong...and now I know how it feels to have someone else prioritized over you."

"Don't do this to me, Y/N," his voice cracks toward the end of his sentence, and the fact that you almost feel guilty for causing him to feel this way makes you sick to your stomach. "I love you. I made a mistake. I should've stayed instead of leaving you behind-"

"You broke my heart, Steve," your voice came out in barely a whisper, "I trusted you with everything I had, and you broke my heart. How am I supposed to forgive you now?"

"It was hard for me, too," he replied as a single tear slipped down his cheek and balled his hands into fists, "it was so damn hard, because at first I thought she was my everything and it broke me when I heard the news of her passing. I thought she was the one for me, and to get over her I had to keep reminding myself that she had been able to move on without lingering in her feelings, so there shouldn't be a reason why I can't do the same. She went on to have a family; a loving husband, children, and grandchildren...if we really were meant to be, I wouldn't have ended up where I am now, fighting alongside this team after being frozen for 70 years, and she wouldn't be old and on the verge of death when we reunited later on.

"It's true that she was the first girl I'd had it bad for, but I don't think I truly loved her. I didn't get to know her well enough before I went into the ice, and I think that's what sets things apart. I was too busy thinking about what could've been instead of what things were like now to know that truly loving someone means you went through hell and back together and stayed together no matter the circumstances, but that wasn't the case for her as the time we spent was cut short. It took me a long time to come to my senses and realize who I really needed in my life, and that I wasn't in love with her, but with you. The one who I was meant to be with was standing right in front of me, and I almost failed to realize that. I couldn't bring myself to stay when I was - and still am - hopelessly in love with you."

"Give me one reason," you whispered hoarsely, "give me one reason why I should believe you. Give me one reason why I shouldn't be doubtful of you leaving me again. Give me one reason why I shouldn't believe that you're going to hurt me."

Taking you completely by surprise, he leans down and kisses you in response, the feeling of his soft and warm lips against your own making you break down every wall you had built up in defense specifically to protect yourself from him. You then seem to completely forget about what's going on around you and in this instant, nothing matters. The aching in your chest doesn't matter. The way you feel as if you're going to fall apart and tear at the seams doesn't matter. The way your mind is screaming at you to stop and pull away because he's gonna break your heart again doesn't matter.

All that matters now is that you're kissing him, the Steve Rogers, his lips that are so insanely soft and tender they should be illegal in the first place. But you're too busy wrapped up in the blissful, electric feeling of how alive he makes you feel despite the fact that you felt like drowning in your heartache and pain. You're too busy reacting, your arms wrapping around his torso and pulling him closer to you, to realize that mere moments ago you were wishing you could feel anything other than romantic feelings for him.

As he pulls back, he reaches a hand out to your face and gently wipes the stray tears that had escaped away with his thumb, and it takes you every fibre of your being not to break down right then and there because you hated how much you cared but loved it at the same time. The more he lets his hand linger against your cheek, the more he holds you in his arms, he finds himself wanting to do this more, wanting to hold you longer and care for you and love you until the end of his days and that's when he realizes it. He's so in love, more than he'd ever been with anyone in his entire life and he doesn't want to let that go.

"Stop it," you mumbled, attempting to push yourself away from him but somehow ending up with your hands pressed against his chest as he tugged you back towards him again, his strong arms firmly snaking around your waist, "you're making me dizzy."

"I can't lose you again. Don't leave," he mumbled into your hair.. "I'm not going to lose you, because I already came far too close to that happening."

You made a sound sort of resembling a strangled sob and hold him as tightly as you could because you feared if you let go, he'd slip away from you again. And he rubs your back gently as your body shook with sobs that clawed their way up your throat and heart, whispering soothing words in your ear as he himself tries to hold back what feels like a seemingly endless flow of tears trapped behind his eyes.

At some point the tears stopped flowing and you just stood there in his embrace. Everyone had  fallen silent by now and were simply watching the interaction between the two of you, practically biting their nails with anxiety at witnessing the rocky reunion.

You tilt your chin up slightly and your gaze subconsciously flickers down to Steve's lips, and he takes this as a sign to pull you in and press his lips to yours a second time.

It's more gentle this time, his lips brushing over yours for a brief second until you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him back in again.

You don't know when you finally break apart, or how much time has passed when you do, but judging by the softened looks on everyone's faces it had been a while.

"Daddy, why did Captain America just kiss Auntie Y/N?" a little voice piped up.

"Because they love each other, honey," Tony replied, ruffling his daughter's hair.

Morgan giggled. "I knew it!"

"Tell me you forgive me," he spoke softly, "tell me that I didn't come back for nothing."

You let out a shuddering sigh and rested your head against his broad chest, gripping the fabric of his suit into your fists. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You won't lose me again."

"So...is this the part where we're supposed to clap? Or cry? Honestly, I feel like doing both right now. This is cute."

"Shut up, Quill," Rocket kicked the Ravager man in the shins. "Let them be."

"What?" Quill held his hands up in defense, looking around at everyone's now amused faces. "You all know you're thinking the same exact thing."

[amphtaminedreams]

Farewell to Spooky Season, AHS Style: Lookbook no.12

Hi to anyone reading,

Happy belated Halloween!

I capitalise it because if I'm gonna recognise any day as sacred, it’s the spookiest one of the year! Halloween 2020 obviously hasn’t been as exciting as usual, parties and club nights being banned has meant there’s been far less opportunities to dress up, but I still managed to get out for the night before they announced the upcoming second lockdown and do a couple of spooky movie nights (and carve a pumpkin!)!

I originally intended for this lookbook to be last minute halloween costume inspo but I was lazy and didn’t manage to get it out on time-a lot of these looks minus the makeup and maybe an accessory or two could work on any day or night out so I thought I’d go ahead and post it now anyway. Celebrating the fashion moments of American Horror Story is something I’ve wanted to do for a while; it’s probably not the first show you’d think of for sartorial inspiration but Mr. Ryan Murphy has fucking fantastic taste in stylists and the first five seasons of AHS in particular, which I’ll be focussing on in this post, have given us SO many amazing looks. The man may be guilty of many things-subjecting us to the character of Will Schuester, trying to turn Richard Ramirez into a thirst trap, embarrassing everyone who raved about how good Scream Queens was when he wrote season 2-but costume related laziness is not one of them. We see more consistency in a Ryan Murphy character’s wardrobe than we do in their story arcs and I respect that because honestly, as much as I love joining in when it comes to ripping into his ability to cohesively bring an AHS season to a close when it airs, I’d probably be the same; if you put Lady Gaga in front of me and told me to write her lines I’d probably end up getting overly invested in what her character was going to be wearing in the scene too. 

So! Enough Ryan Murphy bashing from me! I’ll get on with it! Starting with 3 season 1 inspired looks:

Murder House: Elizabeth Short, Tate Langdon and Violet Harmon

-striped jumper from caitlinlark on Depop, kick flare jeans from ellagray-

When it comes to reflecting on season 1 of American Horror Story, all I can say do is thank the internet overlords that Tumblr has moved on from the romanticising school shooters and wearing normal people scare me tops phase to instead collectively taking the piss out of the “GO AWAY, TATE!”, “YOU’RE ALL THAT I WANTTT! YOU’RE ALL THAT I HAVEEE!” exchange. 

In terms of fashion *moments*, whilst season 1 doesn’t stand out as much as the seasons that come after, Violet and Tate’s wardrobes did give birth to a bit of a 90s grunge renaissance with their oversized knits and faded jeans and layering of textures. It did also give us good costumes in the form of Alexandra Breckenridge’s Moira O’Hara and Mena Suvari’s portrayal of the Black Dahlia, Elizabeth Short; unfortunately, I didn’t have a slutty maid costume lying around so I did the best I could at giving the outfit Elizabeth wears when she makes that fateful visit to the Murder House a modern, more party appropriate update.

In terms of season rankings, Murder House isn’t my favourite. It starts off really great but lulls a bit towards the end and I could never get behind Violet and Tate as a couple because you know, one of them is a school shooter who sexually assaults the other’s mum, and that’s a hurdle that I think most couples might struggle to get over irl. That being said, it was the season that started it all and showcased some of the most innovative writing and directing on TV, and it opened up a spot for horror on primetime television which as far as I know was kind of unheard of before then. Back when I first watched it, I had no idea what to expect not only because I’d never seen horror in a serial format but also because it seemed to be able to get away with the kind of storylines you’d expect network executives to fire people over. It introduced us to Jessica Lange and Sarah Paulson and Evan Peters and Denis O’Hare who would go on to make the show what it is today and more importantly, through Jessica’s glorious portrayal of Constance Langdon, provide us with an endlessly versatile meme format for this trying time.

Asylum: ‘60s Lana Winters, ‘70s Lana Winters, and Sister Mary Eunice McKee

-afghan coat from louisemarcella on Depop, red AA skater dress from julietramage, pink gingham co-ord from zshamim-

I think we can all agree: Asylum would’ve been a perfect series of television if it wasn’t for the completely unnecessary alien storyline. Like, I get that they fit in with the whole good vs. evil theme as a kind of non-biblical alternative to the idea of a higher, all-powerful being but there was already so much going on that it just wasn’t needed. Aside from that, I think the general consensus amongst watchers of the show is that Asylum has the best writing of any season and I think I’d tend to agree. It’s not my favourite because it’s too depressing to rewatch but if we’re talking the first time round, this is the series that had me hooked. Lana Winters?

Iconic. 

Sister Mary Eunice? Iconic. The Name Game? Iconic. Remember when you couldn’t go a day on Facebook without seeing that one photo of Naomi Grossman as Pepper used as the go to “what I really look like” photo in one of those “expectation vs. reality” style posts on your newsfeed? Those were simpler times.

Because this season was mostly situated within the hospital, we didn’t get that many proper outfits but when we did, they were stunning; if I had to state my absolute favourite AHS character of the entire show I’d probably go with Lana Winters and the part her wardrobe played in her characterisation would 100% play a part in that. The late 60s/early 70s was such a wonderful period for fashion and through her character we get to see both of those explored a little. Of course there’s also *that* Sister Mary Eunice scene with the red slip dress and suspenders too which yes, could be a perfect halloween costume, but I also strongly believe should be a perfectly acceptable outfit for any day of the year. 

Coven: Misty Day, Madison Montgomery, and Zoe Benson

-chiffon dress from rags_to_riches on Depop, pinstripe corset from hanpiercey, and tennis skirt from mollie_morton-

I hate to be a basic bitch but I have to say it: Coven is my favourite season of American Horror Story. Once you get over the complete waste of Evan Peters’ acting capabilities that resulted from the *choice* to have him play Kyle, the unnecessary rehash of the Evan/Taissa pairing from season 1 in what I can only assume was an attempt to capitalise on the popularity of the questionable Tate/Violet relationship, and the subsequent sacrifice of any interesting character arc we could’ve foreseen for Zoe Benson beyond her obsessing over a resurrected, non-verbal frat boy, it’s a perfect season. A supreme (heh) balance of horror, humour, and character drama, as well as the stunning aesthetics and forever quotable dialogue, make it my go-to season if I’m ever considering a rewatch. And if you disagree, let me jog your memory with the most mainstream (not to get all “normal people scare me” and suggest AHS is not a mainstream show, I literally just mean in the sense that even those who have never watched the show will have seen this)  reaction GIF set any FX show has even spawned:

Buzzfeed employees had a field day, Emma Roberts enthusiasts (I mean me) finally saw her cemented as the pop culture icon Scream Queens has since showed us she deserves to be (because not enough people have seen Unfabulous, Nancy Drew or Scream 4) and the gays everywhere rejoiced at the year’s worth of meme fodder they’d been provided with. It was Madison Montgomery’s world and we were truly just living in it.

And the fashion! I mean, Stevie Nicks meets 21st century teenage witches! Come on! 

Freakshow: Dandy Mott, Maggie Esmerelda and Elsa Mars

-olive green satin skirt from morganogle on Depop, headscarf from tonijordan, platform sandals from elliefewt, PVC skirt from bethpin_, corset top from sadieflinter, beret from house_of_erotique, flame detail platform boots from mad_rags_vintage-

When people talk about the declining quality of AHS, they usually point to Freakshow as the beginning of the end, but I have to completely disagree. I wasn’t a fan the first time round but on rewatch it’s probably the most emotional season of them all; no, there aren’t as many “horrifying” moments as in other seasons and Elsa is probably Jessica’s worst performance (which is still an incredible one by anybody else’s standards), however it makes up for it with the most sympathetic bunch of characters yet, and on the flip side, also one of the most amusingly depraved with Finn Wittrock’s Dandy Mott. Fans usually argue that the season went downhill once *SPOILER* Twisty the Clown was killed off but for me, he really primarily served as the catalyst for the far more interesting devolution of Dandy, who, imo, is the show’s strongest villain to date, rivalled only by Bloody Face. Then there was the episode Orphans too which made me cry buckets, the sole AHS episode to do so. 

We got a lot of great fashion content in this season too: the theatrical opulence of Elsa Mars’ wardrobe, “Maggie”’s nomadic fortune teller costumes, and all those twee suits we saw Finn Wittrock in. Highly underrated if you ask me. It seems an odd choice for me to use Elsa’s Dominatrix look as an inspiration for one of my looks here when we have that Life on Mars performance outfit and all the extravagant robes Jessica got to waltz around in for reference buuuut I didn’t really have anything to do the vibrancy of either of those justice so I went with the black leather option which is much more me. Am I saying I moonlight as a dominatrix? Maybe. Lol, no. I wish. It’s not for lack of trying. WHERE ARE ALL THE GENUINE TWITTER PAYPIGS AT!? Your girl wants to insult creepy men and get some new clothes out of it xoxo

Hotel: Hypodermic Sally, Liz Taylor, and The Countess

-silk white bralet from xlibby_maix on Depop-

Hotel is another season that I liked a lottttt more upon rewatch, once I knew I was okay to tune out the (completely predictable and utterly nonsensical) Ten Commandments Killer storyline that so much of the season initially seems to hinge on. I love Chloë Sevigny but the fact that her and Wes Bentley’s wooden John and Alex Lowe are positioned as the protagonists at the expense of the far more interesting Liz Taylor, James March and Hypodermic Sally really does a disservice to what is an otherwise great season upon initial viewing.

The visuals this season are magnificent and I think if I had to pick one character’s wardrobe to steal from the entire cast of AHS characters, it would be The Countess (a toss up between her and Misty Day tbh, so I kinda just settle for low-key channelling both). No fucking idea where I'd wear any of her clothes to but I’d make it work. Liz Taylor and Hypodermic Sally have some amazing looks too-there’s just honestly so much to choose from; that being said, this post wouldn’t be complete without a specific ode to the vampire goddess Elizabeth Bathory, who is everything I want to be in life minus the murderous qualities:

Everything. EVER-Y-THING. LOOK AT HER!

Lady Gaga is really a fucking goddess isn’t she. And people were claiming before they’d even seen it that she couldn’t act? A patriarchal society doesn’t like women that can do it all. Just saying. 

Anyways!

That’s it for now! I hope you enjoyed the post if you did read til the end! Sorry I couldn’t get this out before Halloween, I was typing and Picmonkey-ing madly from 2 in the afternoon on the 31st but I taking fucking forever to get ready and had to abandon all hope of getting it out on the day by 4PM. I’ve got so much content planned and it sucks because a couple of them are lookbooks which now feel completely redundant given we’re heading into a second lockdown, but maybe I should just do it anyway? The grunge inspired moodboard I just did seemed to get a good reception too so I’ve got some more of them planned. 

As always, hope everyone is keeping well, and feel free to inbox me with any suggestions, queries or even just to say hi if you need someone to talk to! I check here quite a lot so I should see it. Lots of love to everyone in this time!

Lauren x

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Songs that make me think of the Marauders (PART TWO)

(part one)

Everything Happens For A Reason (Madison Beer)

Remus, after the Prank, completely heartbroken and completely confused… when did Sirius stop loving him in that sweet, gentle way he’d always promised to?

When did Sirius start seeing him as the monster he's always sworn Remus isn't?

I used to believe That everything happens for a reason But I just can't find a reason You'd wanna hurt me so bad

Can't get no relief Time moves on with the seasons But I still can't find a reason You'd wanna hurt me so bad

And what in the world did I do to deserve such a pain in my heart? Guess it's true I'm never getting over you

I still love you I still want you I still love you

If You Love Her (Forest Blakk)

This is the song Sirius and Remus play during their first dance. Fight me.

She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment She loves her whole family and all of her friends So if you're the one she lets in

Kiss her with passion as much as you can Run your hands through her hair whenever she's sad And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over, so she never forgets

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have On days when it feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She'll love you if you love her like that

cowboy like me (Taylor Swift)

Sirius and Remus go on the run together after James’ death. Not at first - they meet up in a bar about three months after. But after that three months they’re inseparable again - desperately in love, playing Robin Hood, driving a blue Mustang into the sunset - they’re miserable, sure, but they’re also very good at pretending they’re not.

And you asked me to dance But I said, "dancing is a dangerous game" Oh, I thought, this is gonna be one of those things I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me Never wanted love, just a fancy car Now I'm waiting by the phone

Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it You're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars Hustling for the good life Never thought I'd meet you here It could be love We could be the way forward, and I know I'll pay for it

And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to mess this up And the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon With your boots beneath my bed Forever is the sweetest con

And I'm never gonna love again I'm never gonna love again

no body, no crime (Taylor Swift)

Sirius Black’s soulmate, James Potter, is dead. And Sirius knows who did it.

He just can’t prove it.

(I rewrote it for y'all. You're welcome.)

Cell Block Tango (from "Chicago")

The Dark Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Severus, and Regulus - performing uselessly sensual dance routines in Azkaban because why the fuck not? Their Dark Lord is dead, and all they have left of him is their loyalty and a bout of snakes and skulls on their arms.

(Wrote this one too. Again, you're welcome.)

Broken Bones (KALEO)

Remus Lupin is a werewolf, and every full moon, this song runs through his mind as James and Sirius envelop his naked body in their arms and tell him he’s beautiful, and so so good, and they’ll love him forever and ever and ever, they promise. And for a single, measley second every time, Remus believes them.

Hoping things might go my way Some might say I talk loud, see if I care Unlike them, don't walk away from my fear I've busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye I hope he's going to break these chains

Another hard day, no water, no rest I saw my chance, so I got him at last I took his six shooter, put two in his chest He'll never say a word no more The devil got him good for sure

Ain't got no place to call a home Only chains and broken bones Ain't got no place to call a home So come on lord, won't you take me now? So come on lord, what you waiting for?

Oh, the devil's going to make me a free man The devil's going to set me free The devil's going to make me a free man The devil's going to set me free...

traitor (Olivia Rodrigo)

Sirius is innocent. Remus believes that. Remus knows that. He knows it. Because he doesn’t know how he’ll live if he’s wrong. Well, okay, he knows -

He won’t.

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse I kept quiet so I could keep you

And ain't it funny how you ran And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Ain't it funny all the twisted games All the questions you used to avoid?

Ain't it funny? Remember I brought her up, and you told me I was paranoid

You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter

God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you When she's sleeping in the bed we made Don't you dare forget about the way you betrayed me

Never Not (Lauv)

The Marauders, slowly breaking apart over the years. James and Lily settle in London, and Sirius and Remus run off to travel the world. They split off somewhere in Asia and forget to call. Peter cleans dishes in Hogwarts’ kitchens and Severus spends his time in those dungeons, teaching potions and writing letters he never sends. Regulus holes up in Grimmauld Place, never marrying, never moving. James and Lily divorce when Harry is ten, and go their separate ways. They always move forward, but -

They also always look back.

I lost myself, seventeen Then you came, found me There's a room in my heart with the memories we made Took them down but they're still in their frames There's no way I could ever forget

For as long as I live, and as long as I love I will never not think about you From the moment I loved I knew you were the one And no matter whatever I do I will never not think about you

What we had only comes once in a lifetime For the rest of mine, I'll always compare To the room in my heart with the memories we made Nights on fifth, in between B and A

Didn't we have fun? Didn't we have fun, looking back?

We were so beautiful We were so tragic No other magic could ever compare...

Scared To Live (The Weeknd)

Sirius and Remus after twelve years apart, having no idea what to do with each other. They were in love once - are in love? - but those days are long gone. Sirius sees how Remus looks at Tonks, but knows Remus can’t ever really love her, much as he likes her, because his heart has forgotten every word but Sirius' name. And Sirius is happier than he thought he’d ever get to be without James, really, though he’s far from happy or even content - is this all there is? Is this how they die? Is this their ending?

No. No. No, after everything, this can’t be it - this cannot be it.

(But if he dies, well... he hopes Remus lives on without him. Happier.

I guess.)

When I saw the signs, I should've let you go But I kept you beside me And if I held you back, at least I held you close Should have known you were lonely

I know things will never be the same Time we lost will never be replaced I'm the reason you forgot to love So don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again No, don't be scared to live again

You always miss the chance to fall for someone else Cause your heart only knows me They try to win your love, but there was nothing left They just made you feel lonely

I am not the man I used to be Did some things I couldn't let you see Refused to be the one who taints your heart

I hope you know that I've been praying that you find yourself We fell apart, right from the start I should have made you my only

So don't be scared to live again I said, "don't be scared to live again"

I Know Where I've Been (from "Hairspray! Live")

Remus and Sirius, sad and happy together, alone in Grimmauld Place and dancing deep into the night as this song plays on the record player and they sway. Their whole lives have been war, but in these moments, there is peace.

Fleeting, hopeless peace, but peace nonetheless.

There's a light in the darkness Though the night is black There's a light burning bright Showing me the way But I know where I've been

There's a cry in the distance It's a voice that comes from deep within There's a cry asking why I pray the answer's up ahead Cause I know where I've been

There's a road we've been travelling Lost so many on the way But the riches will be plenty Worth the price we had to pay

There's a dream in the future There's a struggle we have yet to win And there's pride in my heart Cause I know where I'm going And I know where I've been

Brooklyn Baby (Lana Del Rey)

Sirius Black being himself, and James Potter and Remus Lupin being in love with him.

They say I'm too young to love you I don't know what I need They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies

I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice, I freeze I'm churning out novels like Beat poetry on Amphetamines

Well, my boyfriend's in a band He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed I've got feathers in my hair I get down to beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything I'm a Brooklyn baby

They say I'm too young to love you They say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see

But I'm free I'm free

I'm talking about my generation Talking about that newer nation And if you don't like it, you can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it Cause I don't have to fucking explain

Yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool But he's not as cool as me Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby

I Can't Go On Without You (KALEO)

Sirius and Remus are lost to each other, for twelve years and then two more, Sirius locked behind bars and then a Veil and Remus on the run alone and then with a woman he’s somehow fooled himself into thinking he loves.

They’ll be together again. One day. But for now, there’s nothing to do but wait.

Alone.

Well, they thought they were made for each other Only thinking of one another Never thinking just for one second She would take a different attraction

We don't want that We don't want that, oh no I can't go on without you

Oh, so what's the point of breaking my sweet heart? She wanted me to let down my guard Well, you know what they say It's better that way So, you better hush and walk away

Well, was I supposed to wait for you sweetheart? And hide away the shame, yes I keep it all inside Though the thought had crossed my mind! To do all the things I'll regret, we don't want that

I can't, I can't, I can't go on without you I can't go on without you, oh, lord I can't go on without you, babe

Oh, she loves me She loves me not She loves me My love don't love me...

Oh, so what is left but a broken man? Cause nothing hurts like a woman can I can't go on without you...

happier (Olivia Rodrigo)

Sirius as he watches Remus fall in love with Tonks right in front of him, unable to love Sirius the same way after everything. Sirius loves his cousin - he does. He just kind of hates her, too.

There’s been a lot of things in this life he’s been afraid of, but Remus leaving him never even crossed his mind.

That was his mistake, I guess…

Fuck.

You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was attached For all the sunlight of our past But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm picking her apart Like cutting her down make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.

That's The Kind Of Woman (Julia Michaels)

James left Sirius for Lily, and that was okay. Sirius loved Lily, and he loved James, so it was okay. At least he still had Remus.

Well, he did. Until Tonks came along.

It’s okay. Really. Sirius has gone his whole life feeling unloved.

He can die that way too.

OR

James, Sirius, and Remus fell in love in fourth year, and it was wonderful. And then Sirius started to notice things - small things, little things. Like the gentle way James and Remus are with each other, the way they wake each other up with kisses in the morning and dance the night before the full moon, the way their hands fit together the way everyone expected Sirius’ to fit with them, but better.

The way they love each other more than him.

And that’s okay. That’s fine. He wants them to be happy, and they make each other happy. So he lets them go the last day of seventh year, and disappears into the wind never to be seen again, just like their love for him.

Childhood picket fence, smells like confidence Raised with a little more common sense Isn't always on defense Sits up straight and knows how to take a compliment Jealous but the right amount Isn't scared of missing out, missing out's scared of missing her Doesn't buy things to fill voids Doesn't hate the sound of her own voice

Doesn't cry when someone leaves Isn't contradictory Mind takes a break when she falls asleep Always takes her own advice Crosses T's and cuts her ties Figured out sympathize from empathize Doesn't keep those letters in a drawer Doesn't keep a closet full of things she bought and never wore Gives all her attention to the people that are with her She still loves to dance She still loves her sister

If the me I am Walked out that door Would I miss her?

Maybe, a little bit, sure Oh, I love myself, but I'd love her more Yeah, that's the kind of woman I'd leave me for

Quarter Past Midnight (Bastille)

The Marauders steal a Muggle’s pick-up truck and fly down the highway, literally. The lights are bright and the music is loud, and they’re screaming with laughter, dancing and kissing under the stars. It’s that one perfect moment, the one poets write about seeking their whole lives. This is that moment, this is their moment.

They’ll never be this happy again.

It's a quarter past midnight as we cut through the city The streets are getting restless Good times, bad decisions And the sirens are mending some hearts But we're the losers on our back seats Singing love will tear us apart

It's a quarter past midnight, still avoiding tomorrow It's a quarter past midnight, but we're just getting going We keep on running through a red light Like we're trying to burn the night away This is my favorite part Help me piece it all together, darling Before it falls apart

And the speakers are blowing We want the bodies on the billboards Not the lives underneath them And now we're crawling up the walls again And it's a quarter past twelve And you said we'd leave this place in dust And fall from heaven straight through hell We never know what we have We never knew what we had

We keep on running Why are we always chasing after something Like we're trying to throw our lives away?

And the secrets are flowing Our lips are getting looser I don't know what I'm saying We never knew what we had I never know what I've had

Home (Edith Whiskers)

The Marauders remember each other in a haze - well. The ones that are still alive do, that is.

Regulus, falling.

James, fighting.

Lily, screaming.

Sirius, smiling.

Peter, choking.

Remus, crying.

Severus, bleeding.

They all went, and not one peacefully.

If I close my eyes, I can still see them. Laughing.

I do love my ma and pa Not the way that I do love you Well, holy moly, me oh my, you're the apple of my eye Girl, I've never loved one like you Man, oh, man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness There ain't nothing that I need Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ Ain't nothing please me more than you

I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark Moats and boats and waterfalls, alleyways and pay phone calls I've been everywhere with you We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night Nothing new is sweeter than with you And in the streets, we run afree, like it's only you and me Geez, you're something to see

Oh, home, let me come home Home is whenever I'm with you Oh, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you

I Hate That You're Happy (Tiny Little Houses)

Severus is alone, alone again. Lily’s gone. She’s run off to marry James Potter, the prat, and Severus - Severus doesn’t hope for much in this life, but he holds out hope for her. Because everyone knows she loves James now, but she loved Severus once too… and she still keeps his green ribbon tied around her ring finger, almost like they’re still married in mind.

So Severus keeps his vows to her. He promised her forever - it’s okay, honestly. That forever can be spent apart. He’ll love her anyway.

He'll love her always.

I'm sorry if I ever hurt you And I never kissed you enough And I just have trouble unravelling sometimes The feelings that I kept locked up

And I know it's my own misfortune And I didn't hold tight enough But I found it hard to keep myself whole While drowning in my bitter blood

I'll stay awake again and start feeling The spot where you used to reside And I'll lay beneath these cold empty sheets Huddled and clutching my sides

And I know it's my own misfortune And darling, believe me, I do And you've got your problems, and hell I've got mine But I find it hard that we're through

And I hate when you're with him And I hate when you smile And I hate that for once you don't seem like you've cried And I hate that you've kissed him And I hate that I'm sore But most of all I hate that you're happier than before

And I hate when you're with him And at night you're entwined And I hate that I have to pretend that I'm fine And I hate that I miss you but you miss him more But most of all I hate that you're happier than before Most of all I hate that you're happier than before

Call Your Girlfriend (Clara Mae)

James knows Lily isn’t happy with him. It’s been months, she’s had plenty of time to come around, but she just - she doesn’t love him. She never has. He should’ve seen that, but he was too busy hating the greasy-haired git to realize that Lily has always loved him more than anything else.

Gently, he lets her go. He presses the green ribbon he found in her drawer around her hand, and he kisses her goodbye, and he tells her to go after her happiness, whoever that is. And she smiles at him, the tears in her eyes happy, and she runs away, crashing into Severus’ arms. And they look… they look so perfect together. Like they make so much sense.

It’s okay. James can take it.

Regulus is staring at him. James winks at him, and smiles.

Call your girlfriend It's time you had the talk Give your reasons Say it's not her fault Tell her not to get upset Second guessing everything you've said and done

And when she get upset Tell her that you never meant to hurt no one You just tell her that the only way her heart will mend Is when she learns to love again And it won't make sense right now But you're still her friend

Cloud 9 (Beach Bunny)

James, Sirius, and Remus. It’s an unconventional love story, but not one they feel the need to explain.

They can and will dance together forever, butterbeers in their hands and magic in their eyes, hearts colliding in a messy, three-way kiss.

I don't wanna seem the way I do But I'm confident when I'm with you Lately all I feel is bad and bruised Tired of tripping on my shoes

When I start to tumble from the sky You remind me how to fly Lately, I've been feeling unalive But you bring me back to life

But when he loves me, I feel like I'm floating When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody Even when we fade eventually to nothing You will always be my favorite form of loving

the last great american dynasty (Taylor Swift)

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and its last heir, Sirius Potter Lupin.

Fuck those assholes. He’ll be as mad as he likes.

Was the heir to the name, and money And the town said "how did a middle class divorcée do it?" The wedding was charming, if a little gauche There's only so far new money goes They picked out a home and called it Holiday House Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud The doctor had told him to settle down It must have been her fault his heart gave out

And they said, "there goes the last great american dynasty" Who knows, if she never showed up what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything

Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever Flew in all the Bitch Pack friends from the city Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet And losing on card game bets with Dalí

There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything

They say she was seen on occasion Pacing the rocks staring out at the midnight sea And in a feud with her neighbor She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green Fifty years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach Free of women with madness Their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me

Who knows, if I never showed up what could've been There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen I had a marvelous time ruining everything

I Don't Believe You (P!nk)

Regulus, alone after Sirius runs away. All alone in a giant house, all alone with his wretched mother and her Death Eater friends, all alone without the only person he’s ever loved.

Sirius never comes back, but Regulus waits at the door for him every day anyway.

(Sirius writes Regulus a million letters. He wonders why he never answers. Not even with a cursive fuck you. Maybe he should go back… maybe - no.

No, best not.

It’s not like Regulus misses him.)

I don't mind it, I don't mind at all It's like you're the swing set and I'm the kid that falls It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried We come too close, and every night The passion's there, so it's gotta be right Right?

I don't mind it, I still don't mind at all It's like one of those bad dreams when you can't wake up It looks like you've given up, you've had enough But I want more, no, I won't stop Because I just know you'll come around Right?

Just don't stand there and watch me fall Cause I still don't mind at all

No I don't believe you When you say, "don't come around here no more" I won't remind you You said we wouldn't be apart No I don't believe you When you say you don't need me anymore So don't pretend to not love me at all

Cause I don't believe you.

Little Miss Perfect (Annapantsu cover)

Regulus Black, the perfect child.

He and his brother are nothing alike. Sirius is rebellious, Regulus is obedient. Sirius is brash, Regulus is controlled. Sirius is bravery, Regulus is misery. They have nothing in common.

Well -

Except their hearts, bothing beating for a boy named James Potter with twinkling eyes. A boy only one of them will get to kiss.

Regulus is happy to be the one who’s lost out. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he stares up at the white light, the surface too far above to reach.

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight path, I don't cut corners I make a point to be on time Head of the student council I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney If you ask me how I'm doing I'll say...

Well, hmm Often I ask myself, "what did I do?" To get as far as I've gotten A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter But I don't dare utter a word Cause that would be absurd behavior For little miss perfect

No, I can't risk falling off my throne Love is something I don't even know Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight girl Little miss perfect That's me You don't even know Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, that's easier You're just confused, believe her When she says there's nothing there It's never worth it When you're little miss perfect

Achilles Come Down (Gang Of Youths)

Sirius, running from his family and his predetermined madness, his wildness carrying him so far he makes a circle.

Remus, hiding from love and freedom, his happiness stitched from his skin in ugly, painful scars.

James, watching his best friends tear each other apart, too blind with love to see the monsters they’ve made of each other.

Children, come down.

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof? You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you Achilles, it's not much but there's proof You crazy assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue Redemption lies plainly in truth Just humour us, Achilles Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken Remember the pact of our youth? Where you go, I'm going So jump and I'm jumping Since there is no me without you Soldier on, Achilles Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

Hurt and grieve, but don't suffer alone Engage with the pain as a motive Today of all days, see How the most dangerous thing is to love How you will heal and you'll rise above

Achilles, jump now You are absent of cause or excuse So self-indulgent and self-referential No audience could ever want you You crave the applause, yet hate the attention Then miss it, your act is a ruse It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now It's a pointless resistance for you

Achilles, just put down the bottle Don't listen to what you've consumed It's chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy Of feeding and it's wholly untrue You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing It's all just conjecture and gloom And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it Do not waste your self on this roof

Feel your breath course frankly below And see life as a worthy opponent Crowned by an overture bold and beyond Ah, it's more courageous to overcome You want the acclaim, it's not worth it, Achilles More poignant than fame or the taste of another

Don't listen, Achilles, but be real and just jump You dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)

You want my opinion (no one asked your opinion) My opinion you've got You asked for my counsel (no one asked for your thoughts)

I gave you my thoughts Be done with this now, and jump off the roof Can you hear me Achilles? I'm talking to you

Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph

Achilles, come down.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things (Taylor Swift)

Remus gets super drunk after the Prank and gives a fucking performance on top of the coffee table in front of the entirety of Gryffindor. Sirius is bright red. James is on the verge of tears. Severus is gaping. And Remus is seething.

You woke the wolf. Now watch it bite.

And there are no rules when you show up here Bass beat rattling the chandelier Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year So why'd you have to rain on my parade? I'm shaking my head, I'm locking the gates

It was so nice being friends again There I was giving you a second chance But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand And therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you And so I took an axe to a mended fence But I'm not the only friend you've lost lately If only you weren't so shady

Here's a toast to my real friends They don't care about the HE SAID, SHE SAID And here's to my baby He ain't reading what they call me lately And here's to my mama Had to listen to all this drama And here's to you... Cause forgiveness is a nice thing to do

Hahaha, I can't even say it with a straight face!

This is why we can't have nice things, darling Because you break them, I had to take them away This is why we can't have nice things, honey Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me? This is why we can't have nice things

right where you left me (Taylor Swift)

Remus is pretty sure he died on October 31, 1981. He’s not sure why his body’s still moving.

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other Wages earned and lessons learned But I'm right where you left me

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "what a sad sight" I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on I stayed there Dust collecting on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it She's still 23 inside her fantasy How it was supposed to be Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it She's still 23 inside her fantasy And you're sitting in front of me

At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right

I'm sure that you got a wife out there Kids and Christmas, but I'm unaware Cause I'm right where I cause no harm, mind my business If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong

I'm right where you left me You left me no choice but to stay here forever...

Every Day a Little Death (from “The Count of Monte Cristo”)

Remus Lupin, waiting.

Waiting, waiting, waiting…

For what, he’s not sure. Maybe death. Maybe madness.

Right now all he’s got is lonely.

Lonely, lonely, lonely; la, la, la…

Come out, come out, wherever you are, Peter. Come out and kill me, you coward.

Another day, another week Another month, another year Another day, another night Until it’s day again The sun has fled, I go to bed And scratch a line on the wall Another day, where nothing changes at all

And everyday shuffles by like the day before! On its way to the blackest of skies And everyday a little death comes and paces the floor! And a little bit more of me dies... Another day, another week Another month, another year Another night I spend alone Until it’s day again Our little star has moved away And all the world is a blur I only see I am not me Without her

Everyday a little death for everyday I die Everyday a little death and still I know not why...

He will come back! Perhaps but still… He will return to me! Another prayer You’ve got to live for today I will live when we’re together again Everyday I will pray until then

And everyday another prayer will bring him close to me And every night out little star we will share The one day when I open my eyes He will be standing right over there, one day

There’s something I must say I wanted to protect you

I wish there was a way I could make it untrue I heard the news today I fear the worst has happened An accident occurred He is dead! Dead and gone Rest in peace may flights of angels sing him to his rest Let me hold and help to heal you!

Everyday a little death...

tolerate it (Taylor Swift)

Remus Lupin. Abandoned, alone, aimless. Unwanted, unseen, unloved. Mad, morbid, monster.

He wonders if in the next life, he’ll be dealt some better cards.

Best not hope. Best not be greedy. He could be dead -

Isn’t sadness better?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed I sit and watch you I notice everything you do or don't do You're so much older and wiser and I

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listen I polish plates until they gleam and glisten You're so much older and wiser and I While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine But what would you do if I

Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it Gain the weight of you then lose it Believe me, I could do it! If it's all in my head tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

Téir Abhaile Riu (Celtic Woman)

Sirius being Sirius and Remus and James trying to reign him in. I don’t know. Just vibes, I guess - three soft little gays living out a domestic half-insane life on a little farm in Wales, not a mile from the ashen sea.

Stay here and never you mind The lights of the town are blinding you The sailors they come and they go But listen to what's reminding you Handsome men surrounding you Dancing a reel around you

Listen to the music flow I'm falling for the flow of home I'm home to dance till dawning

Stay awhile and we'll dance together now As the light is falling We'll reel away till the break of day And dance together till morning

No One Knows Us (BANNERS, Carly Paige)

James, Sirius, and Remus are queerplatonic partners. Well, James is theirs - Sirius and Remus are dating. In love. But they and James, they’re not. Not that it matters - every assumes, from their atypical affection, that they are.

James wishes he could be with them, sometimes. The way he wants. Like it’s normal. Without all the prying eyes.

He wonders if he stole a pirate ship and sailed them somewhere else, if it would be any different. Any easier.

Loving the right people shouldn’t be a burden.

Wish I could kiss you when I wanna Without all the fear and all the drama Kill to hold your hand in public I could try to fight the feeling Dull it down like sleeping without dreaming

I wanna push you up against the wall Want them all to hear me call you baby I know it's never gonna happen And I've learned to accept that I accept that

I need you closer Can we go somewhere? No one knows us Leave our world behind We can hole up in a motel room Where no one knows us

See You Again (Carrie Underwood)

The Marauders as they die, one by one. James too early, Sirius too soon, Remus too late. Reunited wherever wizards go when they die, after a long, hard road of what felt like a whole lot of goddamn nothing.

But here they are, at last: alone no longer.

Said goodbye, turned around And you were gone, gone, gone Faded into the setting sun, slipped away But I won't cry cause I know I'll never be lonely For you are the stars to me You are the light I follow

I can hear those echoes in the wind at night Calling me back in time, back to you In a place far away where the water meets the sky The thought of it makes me smile You are my tomorrow

Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking But I stay strong and I hold on cause I know...

I will see you again This is not where it ends I will carry you with me Til I see you again I will see you again...

Bloom (The Paper Kites)

James and Sirius and Remus, loving each other. And not knowing what queerplatonic partners are until Severus and Lily shove a Muggle book into their hands with sweet, manic grins.

“Oh,” James says, with wonder. Sirius kisses him. Remus takes his hand. James looks at them, his eyes wide and twinkling. “Oh, that’s us.”

In the morning when I wake And the sun is coming through Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness, And you fill my head with you

Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you fill my head with pieces Of a song I can't get out

Can I take it to a morning Where the fields are painted gold And the trees are filled with memories Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down, And the day is almost through, Oh, the whole world it is sleeping, But my world is you

Can I be close to you?

Me and My Husband (Mitski)

Sirius and James. Fight me.

(Oh, and Remus - hopelessly in love with them and chasing after their shenanigans as the world stretches out before them, endless.)

I steal a few breaths from the world for a minute And then I'll be nothing forever And all of my memories And all of the things I have seen will be gone With my eyes, with my body, with me

But me and my husband, we're doing better It's always been just him and me together So I bet all I have on that furrowed brow

And I'm the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved And at least in this lifetime, we're sticking together Me and my husband, we're sticking together

You & Jennifer (bülow)

Regulus, angry and bitter, left alone in his big black bed wondering what’s so fucking amazing about Lily Evans that could make James want her more than him.

OR

Remus, so fucking in love with his two best friends… his two best friends, who are so fucking in love with each other, who look at each other like they’re the world, who fuck Remus when the world is ending. His two best friends… assholes.

Listen, no, we don't need to be enemies Ain't got a vision of us in the future with a white picket fence and eternal decisions Now I'm sitting here wondering, when did this all start?

Would rather be the girl that got away than be under your thumb Don't need to spend no more time on you, not like I was in love Not that I'm having a nervous breakdown, I'm just let down You don't know what that's like though to wait up all night So I thank you for teaching me how I could live without you Never needed me, I don't need you

Fuck you and Jennifer, I know that you're out with her Go pretend that you're just friends I'll pretend that I'm not hurt I know all the shit I heard, you can take these bitter words Fuck you and Jennifer Go fucking make love to her

Soon You’ll Get Better (Taylor Swift, The Chicks)

James, surrounded by people he can’t fix.

James, holding a screaming Sirius against his chest as he sobs and shakes from the fifth nightmare that week.

James, brushing salve across the scars of a terrified and bruised Remus after yet another full moon.

James, trying to lure a quiet and cold Peter back to them with candy as he recedes even further away into Slytherin robes.

James, fucking Lily; James, kissing Severus; James, touching Regulus -

James, doomed to love people he can’t help.

The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair I didn't tell you I was scared That was the first time we were there Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you Desperate people find faith, so now I pray too And I say to you

I know delusion when I see it in the mirror You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal I just pretend it isn't real I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try And I'll say to you

And I hate to make this all about me But who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there's no you? This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because cause I have to

Soon you'll get better Soon you'll get better You'll get better soon Cause you have to.

Dance Alone (Blanks)

James Potter being his usual idiotic adorable self. (It’s just the vibes, man.)

Been staring at the wall today, to find some hidden meaning My momma called to ask me how I'm feeling I've been running out of things to think So what's the point of dreaming? Called all my friends cause I cant get along with all my demons And I've been watching from a distance how the seasons change

Been staring at the wall today, still looking for some meaning I tried talking to myself for a change to ask me how I'm feeling I've been running out of room to think I need a higher ceiling

I've been lost, lost in the rhythm lately I don't know, know how to dance alone

Strawberry Blond (Mitski)

James falls in love with Sirius first - make no mistake, it was absolutely Sirius first. Because Sirius was just so bright, and so lovely, and so daring, and he made James laugh as they ran and drove and flew for miles without a direction. Anything for a touch.

And then there came Remus - beautiful, sweet, kind Remus, his eyes so gentle and his smiles so pure, and James wanted to hold him forever, wanted to take his hand and dive right into the sun, wanted to burst into flames. Anything for a taste.

And then Sirius and Remus fell in love with each other, and now James watches them from the outside, grinning behind tears and thinking, Oh god. I’m happy.

I love everybody because I love you When you stood up, walked away, barefoot And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached

I love everybody because I love you I don't need the city, and I don't need proof All I need, darling, is a life in your shape I picture it soft and I ache

Reach out the car window, trying to hold the wind You tell me you love her, I give you a grin Oh, all I ever wanted was a life in your shape So I follow the white lines, keep my eyes on the road as I ache

Look at you, strawberry blond Fields rolling on, I love it when you call my name Can you hear the bumblebees swarm? Watching your arm, I love it when you look my way

FML (Arizona Zervas)

James has a habit of falling for people so fierce he can never refuse them. Regulus is just the last one - the one he keeps, even if he dies still trying to figure out how.

(This is the James and Regulus theme song, I’m calling it.)

I might let you drive me crazy Usually I ain't the type to stay Cause you could fall in, and go psycho Ain't no telling where this might go But I take my chances either way

You look like somebody that could really hold it down You look like somebody that would always stick around I know you probably crazy All my friends said stay away but that shit just don't faze me Got a little bit of sass, I like that You don't take no shit, yeah you fight back Never let a dude hit it on the first night I can't even sleep over til I wife that All these bitches in my phone, hit the boy But I've been curving everyone for you Girl I would give you every single password All you gotta do is let me through

Imma keep it honest, I know that you got a plan I know you ain't perfect, but basic bitches never last I don't usually do this type of shit So baby trust me when I tell you that I'm all about it Yeah, I might fall in love and let you fuck my life up Just so I could go and write a song about it

Last man left you brokenhearted, let me treat you right If you need me I could pull up any night You just say the words, girl, I don't need a reason Give me something more than just a lover on the weekend

Come and fuck my life up.

Lay Me Down (Sam Smith)

If James married Regulus instead, but the war still tore them apart and to shreds.

They still fall, they still die, they still lose… but James is captivated by grey eyes rather than green ones, at least in this lifetime. At least for now.

Yes, I do, I believe that one day I will be where I was Right there, right next to you And it's hard, the days just seem so dark The moon, and the stars are nothing without you Your touch, your skin, where do I begin? No words can explain the way I'm missing you Deny this emptiness, this hole that I'm inside These tears, they tell their own story Told me not to cry when you were gone But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong

Can I lay by your side, next to you? You And make sure you're alright I'll take care of you I don't want to be here if I can't be with you

Forever (... is a long time) (Halsey)

Remus didn’t know anyone could love him, the way he is. You can’t blame him for letting James and Sirius slip through his fingers when he didn’t know they would’ve stayed forever.

He wonders if happiness still sounds like his name on their lips.

I spent a long time watering a plant made out of plastic And I cursed the ground for growing green

I spent a long time substituting honest with sarcastic And I cursed my tongue for being mean

Weightless, breathless, destitute Motionless and absolute He cut me open, sucked the poison from an aging wound Now fifty thousand walking deads would cower at this small brunette It's a nice surprise knowing six feet high Would reach and grab the moon if I should ask

Or just imply that I want you to be more light So I could look inside his eyes And get the colors just right

But love built provinces, callouses, break promises Cause I could never hold a perfect thing and not demolish it What am I thinking? What does this mean? How could somebody ever love me?

"Tell him he's got bad news coming..."

Used To This (Camila Cabello)

James and Sirius, crazy kids in mad love in a big Muggle city, dancing and kissing under the lights every night… and then meeting Remus, and wondering if all these years they’ve been mistaking magic for something else, because this, love, this is what magic is.

No, I never liked San Francisco Never thought it was nothing special Til you kissed me there No, I never liked windy cities But I think maybe when you're with me I like everywhere

It's the strangest feeling Midnight, I'm not leaving No, for once, I think I'll stay I say your name, just listen Doesn't it sound different? Never whispered it this way

It's gonna take me a minute But I could get used to this The feeling of your fingertips The feeling of another kiss Like every tattoo on your skin I'm memorizing every inch

The callouses on your fingers I admired them from a distance Now they're on my cheek

Oh, I've known you forever Now I know you better Let's just get carried away And it bears repeating Now my heart's bleeding When you tell me that you'll stay

It's gonna take me a minute But I could get used to this I could get used to this...

Love Me Like You (Little Mix)

You cannot tell me James and Sirius did not stand on top of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and serenade Remus with this while he covered his bright red face with his hands and damn near cried with embarrassment and laughter, because they did. I promise you, they did.

I solemnly swear.

Darling, he can't buy my love It's you I'm dreaming of

so baby, baby Come and save me

Last night I lay in bed so blue Cause I realized the truth They can't love me like you I've tried to find somebody new Baby, they ain't got a clue Can't love me like you

Come Home With Me (from “Hadestown”)

Sirius and James tripping over themselves trying to say hi the first time they meet Remus, his nose buried in a book in a small cafe, at a table by the window in a dress covered in sunflowers, his cheeks pink and his smile blinding.

OR

James, tripping over himself to win Severus over, who just isn’t having it. (Fuck off, Potter.) (Please?) (No.)

You wanna talk to her?

Yes!

Go on. Don't come on too strong.

Come home with me.

Who are you?

The man who's gonna marry you

Is he always like this?

Yes

Your name is like a melody

A singer, is that what you are?

I also play the lyre...

Oh, a liar, AND a player too! I've met too many men like you.

Oh, no. I'm not like that.

He's not like any man you've met.

That's what I'm working on - A song to fix what's wrong. Take what's broken, make it whole; A song so beautiful, it brings the world back into tune, back into time. And all the flowers will bloom... When you become my wife.

Oh, he's crazy. Why would I become his wife?

Maybe because he'll make you feel alive.

Alive? That's worth a lot... What else ya got?

You Belong With Me (Taylor Swift)

Sirius and James, unable to figure out why they're so bothered by the amount of people who have suddenly started flirting with Remus after the summer of fifth year.

He's just... he's theirs. Their werewolf. Their scrawny motherfucker. Their Moony.

Just.

Theirs.

Oh.

She doesn't get your humor like I do She'll never know your story like I do

Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town I haven't seen it in a while You say you're fine, I know you better than that

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me about your dreams Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me...

Have you ever thought, just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.

Scrawny (Wallows)

I just really love Remus Lupin, okay?

Used to be level with all my friends Still wear the same shoes I did back then I don't think they've ever been untied I can't regret the things I don't try I'd switch it up but I don't like change Only content if things stay the same Don't care to watch the story unfold Hate feeling like I'm not in control I've been sleeping with the light on I tend to freak myself out Will you come a little closer?

I say the wrong shit at the right times If I'm offending them, I don't mind Maybe they all should listen to me It isn't all about what you see Question though, how do I look to you? Am I so thin that you can see through? I've been sleeping with the light off I wanted to remember Will you come a little closer now?

I'll be one of those people you remember They'll be looking at us when were together I'll be a mannequin you can dismember You don't like my clothes but you still like my smile Take me home to mom but it'll take awhile They might think they're cooler than me by a mile I can still have wisdom and look like a child

I'm a scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle

Hate You (Seann Bowe)

Severus and Lily after the Incident. Still loving each other, but not knowing why or how. Having a million things to say, but never the words.

I'm sorry. What a tragic fucking joke.

Look at me now, such a pitiful place You found someone I thought that'd help erase These crazy thoughts that we were never broken You can't see red flags through rose colored glasses!

I killed you in my head now If I see you out with friends I'll just tell myself that it's a phantom or illusion Guess I haven't chosen which

I hate that I miss you, I hate that I'm lost I hate those dead flowers you taped to your wall I hate that you're okay and I can't move on I hate that somehow this is all my fault! I hate that I'm wide awake watching the door I hate these long showers sitting on the floor I hate in the end it was me who was wrong I hate that I don't really hate you at all

But I kind of wish I did...

I don't really hate you at all.

Bitter And The Sweetness (The Ready Set)

James and Sirius and Remus, dancing in the rain. Sirius is screaming up at the sky, and James is pulling Remus against him, quelling his shivering in an instant.

“I love you,” he whispers, and Remus beams, throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him as Sirius screams, “ELECTRIFY ME MOTHERFUCKER!” at the clouds.

That’s love, bitch.

Troublemaker look on your face Followed by a smile and I melt away It ain't always been this lovely We turn the ice and start a fire, melt away

It don't happen overnight It's laughing after fights Knowing which song I should sing to make you smile again Your favorite flowers How I know before you say, "It's gonna be okay"

Love, I think we got time to make mistakes Bitter and the sweetness, I just love the taste

You give me trouble in the best way When you let your hair down I can't look away You've just always been that lovely We turn the dark into light You'll be staying close

Like the time we got stuck out in the rain When you took my hand said, "Baby, we should stay."

Serenade (BANNERS)

James Potter's ghost, watching over Sirius Black forevermore. You don't just leave your soulmate behind. Never.

Stolen, some people stay a life, some for a moment Some hearts they set a light just to be frozen And so we're out of time, broken But now you've got the chance to travel oceans I hope the world's as wide as you were hoping Don't let heartache cloud your mind

If the days go darker, darling And you lose your way Go on, go on, I'm not beside you But I'll be the song there in the silence Let go, let go, darling, it's over now You're on your own, but I'm on your shoulder I'll always be your serenade, serenade, I I'll always be your serenade

They told you It's not the being drunk, it's being sober That's when it really hits you that it's over It's hard to say goodbye So you can keep me Somewhere out of reach but if you need me Just hum these memories and you can feel me I'm always standing by Go and write your story, darling You will find your place

You can always remember that I'm here to ease your mind I'm on your side and You can call me and just like that I'll sing a song to bring you home, babe

It's Quiet Uptown (from "Hamilton")

Remus, alone. His husband gone, his friends dead, his family murdered. Nothing left for him, until...

"Padfoot."

A sheepish smile.

"Hi, Moony."

Remus takes a deep breath. Sirius reaches for his hand.

They'll figure it out.

There are moments that the words don't reach There is suffering too terrible to name You hold your child as tight as you can And push away the unimaginable The moments when you're in so deep It feels easier to just swim down And so they move uptown And learn to live with the unimaginable

I spend hours in the garden, I walk alone to the store And it's quiet uptown, I never liked the quiet before And I pray, that never used to happen before

If you see him in the street Walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity You would like it uptown, it's quiet uptown He is working through the unimaginable His hair has gone grey He passes every day They say he walks the length of the city You knock me out, I fall apart Can you imagine?

Look at where we are Look at where we started I know I don't deserve you But hear me out That would be enough If I could spare his life If I could trade his life for mine He'd be standing here right now And you would smile and that would be enough

I don't pretend to know The challenges we're facing I know there's no replacing what we've lost And you need time But I'm not afraid I know who I married Just let me stay here by your side That would be enough

There are moments that the words don't reach There's a grace too powerful to name We push away what we can never understand We push away the unimaginable They are standing in the garden Standing there side by side She takes his hand It's quiet uptown

Forgiveness, can you imagine? Forgiveness, can you imagine? If you see him in the street Walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity They are going through the unimaginable

Dynasty (MIIA)

The Marauders are dead and gone, did you know?

But they were great once. Unstoppable. Invincible, young, in love.

Can you tell? Can you...

Remember?

Some days, it's hard to see if I was a fool or you a thief Made it through the maze to find my one in a million And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living The scar I can't reverse And the more it heals, the worse it hurts Gave you every piece of me, no wonder it's missing Don't know how to be so close to someone so distant

And all I gave you is gone Tumbled like it was stone It all fell down, it all fell down

Thought we built a dynasty that heaven couldn't shake Thought we built a dynasty like nothing ever made Thought we built a dynasty forever couldn't break up.

Dancing After Death (Matt Maeson)

Oh. It's you. You're here.

I never thought I'd see you again.

Do I know better than this? You're a word that I can't forget Though the thought rattles my brain Will you fold or will you remain?

If I don't get better than this man in my skin If I let go, would you hold on? Would we fly? Is it safer if we just say that we tried? Are we laughing at the danger?

As the sun waits to eclipse And the taste teases my lips I'm too tired to wrestle with it Will we burn, or will we repent?

Are we dancing after death, you and I?

[nancywheelxr]

Omg omg omg omg plz do a Uncle Peter and Uncle Aaron fic

“You did what?” Uncle Aaron rasps, hand still pressing tight to his chest and slightly out of breath, and his expression is somewhere between anger and disbelief. On the other side of the room, Peter throws his hands up, mouth stuffed with a bagel.

Yup. That’s about what Miles expected.

Okay, he should probably back up a little and explain.

*

So, look, there are the facts:

The body of Aaron Davis never reached the morgue. The vehicle containing his body was shot out of the road exactly eight minutes after it left the alleyway. No suspects were apprehended and Officer Jefferson Davis was ordered to close the case twelve days later after all leads had gone cold. 

That had been nearly a year ago.

Now, here are some more– mildly less believable, but hey, last year the multiverse kinda went bananas, so who’s Miles to call anything crazy, right? – facts: 

Three weeks ago a grumpy wizard dumped Peter in Miles’ backyard. He had a cool cape, though, that Miles thinks might have waved at him at some point? Anyway, there was this wizard, right, and he dumped Peter in his mom’s hydrangeas and then he told Miles to keep an eye on Peter because Peter had apparently been cursed and couldn’t stay in their universe for the time being? No, he did not know when he’d be back to collect him, and no, he would not be taking criticisms on his plan right now.

It had all been very strange.

So yeah, that was a thing that happened. Apparently, Peter’s universe had been attacked by a sorcerer and Spider-Man got the wrong end of a particularly nasty banishing spell. 

“It was not my fault,” Peter had said, head halfway into Miles’ refrigerator, “if the Avengers could keep their damn villains of the week out of my neighborhood, then none of this would happen– hey, is the chili still good? No, you know what, nevermind, it probably is, let me just check the milk–”

And that had been that. 

“ – and you know, Harry Potter over there, didn’t have to just dump me here,” except, Peter had seemed to want to explain thoroughly what happened first, “I bet he could have just waved his hand and be done with it. He fixed the whole molecular-universe-rejection thing, didn’t he? Sorcerer Supreme, my–”

Miles had kind of zoned out after a while.

*

Those were the facts, see, and all of them were out of Miles’ hands, that’s a very important thing to notice.

*

So, since, Doctor Wizard hadn’t bothered to stay to hash out the finer details before peacing out back to his dimension, that left to Peter and Miles to figure out where to stash Peter while this whole mess was sorted out.

It’s not like Peter has a functioning social security number or even the money to buy some real state or pay any sort of rent. Sure, they could go to Aunt May’s place, but whenever Miles tried to bring it up, Peter got that weird face on, that looked kinda guilty and like, infinitely sad, and Miles didn’t have the heart to suggest it again.

Besides, he doesn’t think it would be good for May, not if this took a while.

Somehow, that ended up equaling with Peter squatting at Uncle Aaron’s old place.

It had seemed the logical conclusion, at the time. No one was using it and Miles’ dad hadn’t wanted to let go of it, not yet. Privately, Miles thinks it’s ‘cause his dad still hopes Uncle Aaron is out there, alive. The lack of a body to bury does that, he thinks, and wholeheartedly agrees with his dad.

If there’s still a chance, Miles would take it.

Anyway. So, Peter had been staying at Uncle Aaron’s place and being an all-around sorta cool mentor while helping out Miles with the whole superhero gig. 

It had really been just a matter of time until his parents caught up with it.

*

Again, let the record show, that while yes, Miles had been the one to come up with Uncle Peter, it had been Peter that came up with the marriage thing.

*

Another couple of facts to keep in mind:

Fours hours ago, Miles and Peter had busted another of Kingpin’s research facilities. Inside it, handcuffed to one of the beds, they had found Uncle Aaron recovering from surgery.

According to his retelling of events, that had been his twelfth procedure. Kingpin had been the one to pay for the Prowler gear, therefore, Kingpin owned the Prowler. Kingpin does not throw away expensive resources– not even the ones who needed open-chest surgery, blood transfusions, illegal not-yet-tested drugs, and too many lung surgeries. No, Uncle Aaron does not know what he had been planning to do with him once he recovered enough, but he figures it would be nothing good, probably blackmail him into working for him again.

Bringing him back to his old place had also brought up the fact that someone else had been living there.

Which brings them back to:

*

“Why the hell would you tell them that?” Uncle Aaron twitches, glaring at Peter like he wants to bring out his gear to saw him up a bit, “of all the all the– are you an idiot?”

Miles cringes. This is spiraling out of control fast. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal–”

“You think I want to be married to a Supervillain?” Peter, having swallowed his bagel, screams back at Uncle Aaron, seething with righteous anger, “I’m not exactly having the time of my life here either, pal!”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say he’s a supervillain, exactly,” Miles tries to placate him, “more like a henchman, maybe? And he’s totally reformed! Right, Uncle Aaron? Right?”

It’s not a real question, exactly, Miles knows that moment on Aunt May’s roof had been a turning point for his uncle, knows the second he let go of Miles, the second that bullet his chest, he wasn’t a bad guy anymore. He couldn’t be, not when his nephew was Spider-Man. 

And Miles would be damned if he wasn’t going to give his own uncle a second chance.

Still, as soon as the words leave Miles’ mouth, Uncle Aaron seems to deflate. He sighs, running a hand across his face before motioning Miles over. “C’mere, kid,” he waits until Miles is sitting beside him in the dusty couch, the white sheet used to cover it still on the floor by their feet. “Yeah, of course I’m reformed,” his mouth still twitches in amusement at the term, then falls into a grimace again, “and I’m so fucking sorry for the things I’ve done, even more for what I did to you. If I had known–” he shakes his head, “not that it makes that much better– but point is, you bet I’m done being a bad guy. I’ll never hurt anyone again, alright, and I’ll never hurt you, Miles, I’m so sorry for all of that.”

“Hey, erm,” Miles swallows past a lump he hadn’t noticed growing in his throat, and looks around, panicking at the sight of Uncle Aaron– cool, laid-back, fun Uncle Aaron– close to tears and looking wrecked by guilt. His eyes meet Peter’s across the room and he looks about as uncomfortable to be there as humanly possible, but he still gives Miles a thumbs up, smiling kindly. “It’s okay, Uncle Aaron. I know– you can do better now,” he finishes awkwardly, not quite able to stop himself from hugging him.

After a long pause, Miles feels his uncle returning the hug fiercely, holding him like he’s not yet sure this is all real. “You really are something else, kid.”

*

It had taken Miles and Peter half an hour to unhook Uncle Aaron from all the machines and monitors in his cell, and Miles had cried silently at how sick his uncle had looked and pretended not to notice the blood trail they left from where the IV tube had been hooked at the crook of his arm– Uncle Aaron had looked about to keel over and any blood wasted on the tiled floor had seemed alarming.

Peter had taken most of his weight and told Miles to go ahead make sure the hallway was clear. 

Not for the first time, Miles had wished Gwen was there, if only to bully him into being less sad.

*

“Okay,” Uncle Aaron says, huffing a little after they both had regained some sort of composure– ha! Check that out, composure, his English teacher would be thrilled with him using fancy words. “We still gotta figure this thing out.”

“I want a divorce,” Peter demands, standing with his hands on his hips, “I’m sorry but this just isn’t working out, babe.”

“Call me that again,” he warns, glaring, “and I’ll whoop your ass, lung surgery or not.”

Miles tries to picture it– breaking the news of Uncle Aaron’s return to his parents then the subsequent divorce. That would mean Peter would be homeless again and no more excuses to be hanging around Miles. ‘Sides, Peter leaving Uncle Aaron now that he’s sick would not look good. That would definitely be a problem if they want Peter to be able to stick around.

Well, shit.

“You can’t,” he blurts out, shrinking a little when both adults whirl on him, “I mean, you totally can, but it would make it so much harder because how are we gonna explain why Peter is always around? And mom kinda already likes him? She sends him casseroles sometimes, even though dad still grumbles about it.”

Uncle Aaron groans. “Of course she does,” he drops his head on his hands, “this is a mess.”

“Rio’s casseroles are delicious,” Peter admits, tilting his head thoughtfully towards the kitchen like that’s enough to make him reconsider this whole scheme.

“And I know dad is like, still annoyed you allegedly didn’t tell them about this,” Miles adds, “but I swear he’s trying to be more chill–”

“Hang on,” Uncle Aaron looks up, for the first time since they rescued him from the lab, seeming less defeated. His eyes are almost as bright as they were before, alight with something gleeful. “This would annoy the hell out of your old man, wouldn’t it?”

Miles blinks, a sense of impending doom encroaching like an inevitable storm that has nothing to do with his spider senses. “I guess?”

“Say,” he turns to Peter, giving him an assessing look, “spider-hobo, how about we strike a deal?”

“Okay, first off, I was dumped in this universe without warning, alright, it’s not like they let me pack a bag first,” Peter scowls, crossing his arms, “second, what kind of deal?”

“You need a place to stay and an excuse for my brother not to arrest you,” Uncle Aaron smirks, and Miles thinks he knows where this is going but he’s not sure how he feels about it, “and I could use a hand to keep watch, I’m sure Kingpin’s not gonna give up so soon.”

And it would have the bonus of annoying Miles’ dad which is Uncle Aaron’s favorite past time.

This is so spiraling out of control.

Peter squints. “So you want a bodyguard?”

“So you want not to be homeless?”

“Fine,” he huffs, throwing his hands up and rolling his eyes, “we’re married now, I guess. Hurray.”

“Please, you should be happy,” Uncle Aaron sits back, stretching his legs under the coffee table, “you are married to me.”

That sends Peter into another inflamed rant. “Look, I’m a goddamn catch–”

Man, Miles groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. This is going to be a disaster and with his luck, it’s going to snowball into something huge before it bursts into flames. Again, he wishes fiercely Gwen was there, he bets at least she’d get a kick out of this.

Faintly, he hears Uncle Aaron ignoring Peter in favor to nudge his feet. “Hey, kid, do me a favor and don’t mention to your dad I cursed in front of you, yeah?”

Across the table, Peter snatches another bagel, biting into it with a vengeance.