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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

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Far From Her

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: the school trip to Europe makes you and Peter reexamine your relationship

(post endgame, during far from home)

hope you’re all staying safe

Masterlist

You gave it five months.

Five months of strictly platonic friendship following the blip before you and Peter got back together.

You were together for 8 months before it all happened. And when you came back, you both decided that if you still wanted to be together at the end of the five months, you would be. But, it you found that you worked better as friends, you’d stay that way.

Rebuilding your friendship with Peter was more enjoyable than you thought. You found yourself slowly rediscovering why you fell for him in the first place instead of forcing yourself to be with him. It was a good plan, though you missed him. But the Peter that blipped wasn’t the Peter that came back. This new Peter had seen things the other Peter hadn’t. He was sadder, and a little more guarded. He was still a good friend, but in no position to be a boyfriend. That’s why when you suggested the five month break, Peter was more than relieved. He loved you, that hadn’t changed, but he some needed time to himself. Spider-Man had become a beacon of hope for New York and Peter was feeling every ounce of that weight.

You weren’t blind to this. At a press conference May was hosting, you could see how overwhelmed Peter was, even through his mask. When he slipped away from the journalists to get some air, you followed him to the roof to check if he was alright.

“Hey.” You shut the door to the roof behind you and walked to Peter.

“Hey.” He said, relieved that it was just you. He held your hand as you sat down so you wouldn’t fall.

“You looked like you could use the company of someone who doesn’t know how to work a camera.” You commented and he gave you a half smile.

“Something like that.” He nodded before turned his attention to the horizon. You watched his face, noticing how tired and worn out he looked. You rubbed his back in slow circles to wordlessly let him know you were there for him.

“I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but you’re doing a great job. Just seeing your face is bringing people comfort.” You said softly. His jaw tightened as you spoke as if he was trying to keep himself from crying. You put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him in, not pressuring him to say anything back.

“I don’t know. What if I’m just giving them false hope? Everyone wants something from me, and I don’t know how much left to give.” He said quietly without looking at you. You tilted his chin to face you and gave him a comforting smile.

“You’ve already given so much. Just take it easy for a while.” You asked of him. He gave you a half baked smile and nodded.

“What about you? Is there anything you want from me?” He switched to a lighter tone.

“All I want from you is your company.” You grinned at him and he laughed.

“I can manage that.” He told you. You smiled at each other, just appreciating the others company.

“There’s actually something I wanted to ask you.” You remembered and Peter sighed as if he knew what was coming.

“Yes, there are aliens in space. I saw one.” He shuddered and you laughed in surprise.

“That’s not what I was gonna ask but we are definitely gonna get back to that later.” You chuckled. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with me going on the Europe trip.”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Peter asked, who had been looking forward to spending the time with you.

“Because, I don’t know.” You suddenly felt awkward. “I know we agreed to rebuild our friendship before getting back together, but this might be too much too soon. Europe is very romantic and it could push us before we’re ready.”

“How so?” He tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t know, Peter. You might see me eating a baguette and think damn, I need her so bad. I need her so bad.” You said and he leaned into you as he laughed. “It might cripple you completely, if we’re honest. Who knows if you’ll ever recover?”

“I think I’ll be okay.” He assured you. “And where are you getting this baguette from? We’re going to Italy.”

“They have baguettes in other parts of the world, dude. God, you disappear for 5 years and come back acting like you don’t know nobody.” You joked, making Peter laugh again.

“Alright, alright. What about you, though? What if you see me eating some gelato and fall irrevocably in love with me?” He dished it back and you burst out laughing. “What if you’re so turned on by the sight of me eating that creamy gelato that you become paralyzed?”

“I hear that happens a lot, actually.” You told him. “You’re such a good friend for thinking of me.”

“I try, I try.” He agreed. Your laughter died down and he looked at you fondly. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I need a break from it all. Not from you, though.”

“Me too.” You looked up at him before resting your head on his shoulder. You sat in comfortable silence for a while, just taking the time to be with each other.

You weren’t in Italy for even five hours before you were attacked. You had been standing by the docks, talking to Peter when a giant wave came from the water. You made eye contact from a distance and he gave you a knowing nod. He helped Ned and Betty out of a boat as he made his way to you.

“What is that?” You asked him as the water took shape.

“I’m not really sure. It wasn’t in any of the pamphlets.” The wheels in Peters brain turned as he thought of his next move.

“I’ll make sure everyone on the ground is safe. Try to get as high as you can and do your whole spider thing.” You strategized and he turned his attention back to you.

“Okay.” Peter nodded right as a massive wave was sent your way. He wrapped one arm around you and used the other to shoot a web at the wall. You both flew back against the wall and he covered you with his body as the wave hit.

“I gotta go. Be safe.” He instructed before he turned to swing away.

“Peter, wait.” You called, still pressed against the wall. He turned back to you and you grabbed his face, kissing him like it’d be the last time. “Please make it back this time.”

All he could do was nod before you ran after your friends. He watched you even after you had left before swinging to the tallest building to fight the water.

“Hey, Pete.” You leaned against his doorframe in your pajamas later that night. Unbeknownst to you, a very impatient Nick Fury was also in the room. Peter smiled at little at the sight of you ready for bed, but quickly cleared his throat when he remembered Nick Fury was losing his patience.

“Hey, uh, hi.” He stumbled over his words as an angry look crossed Fury’s face.

“Can I come in?” You asked and Peter looked to Fury for approval. Fury took a gun out from his hip and pointed it at you, out of your sight. Peter gulped and shook his head.

“No!” He held up a hand to keep you from coming any closer. “Ned is sleeping and you might wake him.” He said the first excuse he could think of.

“Oh, okay. No problem.” Your face faltered a little and Peter knew heaven was unintentionally hurting your feelings. He looked at Fury again, who looked like he was ready to kill Peter, and Peter had a feeling he’d do it.

“He’s really sleepy.” Peter said, never taking his eyes off Fury.

“Right.” You nodded awkwardly. “Do you have a minute to talk? About before?”

“Before?” Peter squeaked, playing dumb so you wouldn’t bring up the kiss in front of Fury.

“When we -uh- when I, you know…” You trailed off, wondering if he really didn’t remember you kissing him.

“Right, that. Totally forgot about that.” Peter lied. “Can we talk about it some other time maybe? I’m really busy right now.”

“Busy brushing your teeth?” You half laughed and nodded to his toothbrush. Peter looked to Fury for help, but found none.

“Dental hygiene is very important.” Peter stated.

“Sure. Some other time, then.” You nodded curtly and left his room. Peter sighed in relief when you walked away.

“That was my-“ He tried to explain.

“I don’t care.” Fury boomed. “Next person to walk through that door gets shot.”

Peter complied and reluctantly followed Fury onto a boat, thinking about you the whole ride.

After having to ditch you at the opera to fight an elemental, Peter positioned himself outside your door with an apology ready. You had made plans to sit together before Peter remembered he had previous arrangements. He slapped his face to react himself and knocked on your door. Every second he waited for you to open him brought more anxiety. Finally, you opened the door to him and your face saddened.

“Hey.” You said softly.

“Hi.” Peter responded, nervously shouldering his backpack.

“I missed you at the opera.” You spoke. Peter sighed in defeat and nodded.

“I was sick.” He barely committed to his lie.

“Right.” You nodded, not believing it when Ned told you the first time and not believing it now.

“Did you maybe want to go on a walk?” Peter asked timidly. “I feel like we haven’t gotten a chance to talk really since we got here, and I have something I want to tell you.”

“Yea, sure.” You said, knowing what was coming. “I’ll grab my jacket.”

You and Peter walked a few paces from the hotel until you were past the entry way. Peter dug his hands in his pockets, looking nervous and unsure of himself. You studied his body language and chewed your bottom lip, his nerves giving you nerves.

“Y/n, I-“ Peter began.

“Don’t want to get back together.” You finished his sentence for him with a defeated but accepting look in your eye. Peters entire body retracted in confusion at your statement. He was about to tell you he loved you and wanted to get back together. After the kiss, he thought you felt the same way.

And then you hit him with that.

“What?” He stammered.

“It’s fine, Peter. You don’t have to say it. I got all your hints.” You folded your arms, putting your guard up. Peters felt a twinge of pain at your actions. He never wanted to be someone you needed to guard yourself around.

“My hints?” He repeated. “Wait, what?”

“In your room the other night.” You reminded him like it was obvious. “You refused to talk about the kiss. You wouldn’t even look at me.” You said the last part like it stung you to even think about.

“I have a reason.” He promised, realizing he was losing his handle on the situation quicker than he wanted.

“What’s your reason?” You asked. Peter was dumbfounded for a moment. He was specifically instructed not to tell you his reason.

“It’s a secret reason.” He offered timidly and you rolled your eyes.

“Is it the same reason you ditched me at the opera?” You humored and you shoved your hands in your pockets.

“Yes.” He said weakly.

“How convenient.” You laughed bitterly and distanced yourself from him.

“It’s a really good secret reason!” He pleaded with you to understand.

“I bet it is.” You looked up at the sky to keep from crying. “You don’t have to lie to me, Peter. You obviously took me on this walk to tell me you didn’t want to get back together.”

“I’m not lying. I took you on this walk because I wanted to talk to you for once. And I wanted to sit with you at the opera.” Peters voice cracked as he got emotional. “I really, really did. But I have a lot going on that I’m not allowed to tell you about. You think I don’t want to be walking the streets of Italy, holding your hand? I would so much rather be spending every second of this vacation with you than what I have to be doing.” He cried as you stood silently. “I’d love to talk about the kiss. I’d love to hear about every second of that four hour opera from your perspective. But I can’t. You have to believe me when I tell you, I just can’t.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m even upset.” You shrugged and wiped a tear from your cheek. “I should be used to you leaving by now.”

“What are you talking about?” He panted.

“You left the bus when we were going to MOMA. Ned told me you jumped off to follow that space ship.” You brought up for the first time since The Blip. Peter tilted his head in confusion, never knowing that bothered you.

“The Avengers needed me. I had to go.” He said like it was obvious.

“Did they call for you?” You questioned and Peter was caught off guard.

“No.” He realized, still not knowing why it mattered.

“I did.” You told him. “When the cars piled up because drivers had disappeared from their cars, I looked for you. And when our bus got hit from the back because the person driving behind us turned to dust, I called out your name. And when kids started faded away, kids I knew, I started to cry because I couldn’t find you. With dust in my lungs, dust made up of my classmates, I cried out for you. And you weren’t there. You were off helping the Avengers.”

“I didn’t know that.” Peter said quietly. You looked at him with a pained expression.

“You abandoned me, Peter.” You whimpered as tears fell down your cheeks. “Now I know that if the world was ending, I wouldn’t even cross your mind. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“I didn’t know what was gonna happen.” He tried to defend his actions, but even he knew what he did was wrong. He left you during the most traumatic moment of your life.

“But you knew something was gonna happen. And when given the choice, you chose to run to the Avengers instead of me. And I bet Mr. Stark tried to send you home. I bet he told you to leave but you wouldn’t go, am I right?” You asked and Peter reluctantly nodded. “I know it’s selfish of me to even think this. A part of me knows that this is your job and you had to go. But the other part, the other part of me really wishes I could’ve seen my boyfriend one last time before I disappeared. Is that selfish?”

“No.” Peter sniffled as his heart broke.

“I don’t mean to blame you. But Peter, you jumped out of a moving bus and swung away without anybody seeing you. I’m pretty sure you could’ve tapped me on shoulder and told me you were gonna leave. I could’ve gone with you. I could’ve helped.” You said weakly and Peter could see just how hurt you were. How hurt he made you.

“You could’ve gotten hurt.” He protested.

“Look at me, Peter. Do I not look hurt to you?” You laughed sadly.

“I didn’t think when I saw the spaceship. I just acted.” He tried to defend his actions, but even he knew he was in the wrong.

“I didn’t even get a goodbye.” You looked down and hugged your jacket to your body as Peter realized what this was about. You didn’t want him to not help the Avengers. You just wanted a goodbye from your boyfriend before he ran off to space to fight a war he didn’t start.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said sincerely. He took a step towards you and you took a step back.

“I was looking for you as my body turned to dust. I just needed to see your face one last time to know everything was going to be okay.” You mumbled. “Were you looking for me too?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged in defeat. You both knew he wasn’t. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“I don’t know either. Maybe that’s the answer, though. Maybe we’re just too different now. I know we broke up to find ourselves, but maybe the people we found aren’t meant to be with each other.” You found some strength in your voice as you took the emotional upper hand.

“I don’t believe that.” Peter insisted, grasping at the straws of your relationship.

“Look at the material, Peter!” You stated. “Can you honestly look at me and say I’m the girl you fell in love with?”

“No.” Peter said after a moment of contemplation. “You’re not her.”

“But that’s who you want.” You said tearfully. “That’s who you look for everytime you look into my eyes. You want the girl who lived across the hall who you used to stay up all night watching movies with, and the girl you knew like the back of your hand. She’s the one you look for, but it’s me who disappoints you when you can’t find her.”

“But I love you.” Peter swore.

“And I love you.” You told him.

“More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.” He continued.

“But what if that’s all we have? We can say we love each other, but do we know each other? Can we still read each other? Or am I just a stranger you think you recognize?” You tilted your head and he thought about it.

“I don’t know.” He said, dumbfounded again.

“I don’t think I want to find out.” You said before digging through your bag. You pulled out a black device covered in Peters webs and shoved it into his hands. “Here. I found this by the Ferris wheel. I was there, by the way. And apparently, so were you.” You said as you began to walk back towards the hotel. Peter looked at the device curiously before calling o to you.

“Please don’t go.” He begged you, his heating up with panic.

“I’m taking a page out of your book, Peter.” You called, never looking back.

Peter held the device in his hands, watching you walk away until his vision was blurred with tears. He dropped the device to rub his eyes, causing it to project an elemental monster he hadn’t seen before. When Peter saw Mysterio flying around in the projection, he realized leaving you wasn’t the only mistake he had made that day.

Peter found himself battered and bruised on Happy’s jet after he tried to tell Fury about Mysterio. Mysterio somehow got ten steps ahead and nearly broke Peters will to go on with his illusions.

Nearly, but not quite.

As Peter sat in the jet, entire body aching and head throbbing, he thought of you. It might be impossible to take down Mysterio on his own, but he’d do it if it meant you’d be safe.

“Can you dial Nick Fury’s number on my phone? I gotta get started on this suit.” Peter asked as he tossed his phone to Happy. Happy opened the phone app and was alarmed with the number of notifications Peter had.

“Do you ever check your voicemail?” Happy said when he saw the multiple messages in Peters inbox.

“My what?” Peter asked as he finished up the suit.

“Voice mail. The messages people leave when you don’t answer their calls.” Happy explained like it was obvious.

“That’s a thing?” Peter wondered and Happy looked unamused.

“I hate teenagers.” He grumbled. “Look at this, 28 from May, 13 from Ned, 6 from Y/n. Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

“From Y/n? From when?” Peter walked to Happy and peered at the phone.

“April 10th 2018.” Happy read the date.

“That’s the day we all blipped.” Peter realized. “Can I see that?”

“It’s your phone, man.” Happy said tiredly as he handed the phone to Peter. Peter quickly played your message and put it on speaker phone.

“Hey, Peter. Its Y/n. I don’t know where you went but I’m getting kinda worried. The sky got really dark all the sudden and the road is building up like crazy. Can you call me please? I just need to know you’re safe. Alright. I love you. Call me back.” Your voice sounded through the phone. Peter listened with a pained expression as he played another one.

“Hey Peter. It’s me again. The bus got hit by another car. I don’t…I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out of this. I love you. Wherever you are. Okay. Bye.” A tearful message played. Happy took Peters phone before he could torture himself with another message.

“I messed up.” Peter said stolidly as tears fell from his eyes.

“Yea, kid, you did.” Happy agreed. Peter didn’t say anything, just cried silent tears as Happy watched.

“Look, if she was dumb enough to date you, she’ll be dumb enough to take you back. Okay?” Happy tried to comfort him.

“I gotta see her.” Peter decided, wiping his face.

“Sure. Just save Europe first, if you could. Then you can talk to your girlfriend.” Happy bartered. Peter nodded and readied himself to enact the plan.

A few hours later, Peter limped along Tower Bridge after taking down Mysterio. He was exhausted, dirty, and in a desperate need to see you. He looked around for a moment, thinking he heard your voice, but ultimately decided it was his imagination playing tricks on him.

“Peter!” He heard your voice again and heard footsteps accompanying it. He stumbled through the smoke until he saw you running towards him.

“Y/n?” Peter asked before your arms were thrown around him. He immediately hugged you back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to keep from breaking down. “I thought I lost you.”

“I know the feeling.” You squeezed him back, apologizing and making up all in one hug. You tucked some hair behind your ear and gave him a tight smile. “Is Mysterio gone?”

“Yea, he’s gone.” Peter said as you rubbed some dirt off his face.

“So everything’s okay now?” You asked, giving him a once over to check for injuries.

“No, it’s not.” Peter shook his head. “Nothing will ever be okay as long as you and I are broken up.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say, but in the current context of our situation, I just feel like that was out of pocket.” You told him.

“I don’t care.” He protested. “Y/n, I just got hit by train, jumped out of a jet, and nearly got shot in the head. But during all of that, all I could think about was seeing your face again.”

“You got hit by a train in broad daylight?” You repeated.

“I think I only survived because I knew I had to come back to you.” He laughed lightly. You stoped thinking about the train and looked at him fondly, taking in what he had said.

“Peter.” You bit your trembling lip and rested your arms around his shoulder. He pulled you by the waist and rested his forehead against yours.

“When I was laying on that train seat, bleeding out, the only thing I could think of was you.” He said softly. “You made a lot of good points on our walk. I did leave you that day on the bus. And you’re right. You’re not the girl I fell in love with.”

You pulled away a little and looked at him curiously. All he gave you was a smile.

“You’re braver, smarter, stronger, and more badass than that girl ever thought she could be. And the girl I see today? The girl I see when I look into your eyes, I’m in love with her.”

“In love with me?” You smiled at his confession.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Was it the gelato?” You teased and he let out a laugh.

“It might’ve been.” He said before pulling you into a long awaited kiss. You pulled apart after a moment but stayed in each other’s embrace.

“I’m gonna change.” Peter mumbled. “I won’t abandon you this time. I don’t ever want to be far from you again.”

Tag List 🏷

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dragoqueen · 3 years

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Whoops! Wrong Way 5/8

Summary: Peter has been living at Avengers Tower for 2 years, known to the workers and Avengers as Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers. When his teacher announces that they're going on a field trip to Avengers Tower, or SI, he's going to have to attempt to survive a day of embarrassment and keeping a secret identity.

Words: 2068

“Go away you old man! You’re ruining the moment!” Peter shrieks at Steve. Steve only chuckles and finishes walking over to Peter’s table. Turns out, Bucky is with him too, and they've brought food. “Chill out kid, we were just bringing some more food.”

“Yes! Give it to me then git.”

“That’s kind of rude. We’re providing food.”

“Yeah but you’re ruining the field trip! I just want to live normally please.”

“Fine kid. We’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘soon’”?

“Your tour is going to the training room. Must I say more?” Steve asks.

“No!!! Please don’t let them kill anyone too much,” Peter groans.

“Alright. See you kid.”

They leave with Wade after placing a small bag of cookies. Peter grumbles something about “boyfriend stealer” while munching on more of the cookies and sliding a few over to MJ and Ned to let them try them. Just as Mars announces that it’s time to go onto the next part of the tour they’ve finished all of the cookies. They line up at the elevator and step in once Mars has finished the head count. “FRIDAY, take us to the training room please,” Mars asks.

“It appears that you do not have clearance to go here.”

Mars sighs, “uh, Peter can you tell FRIDAY to take us to the training room. Apparently they didn’t fix my clearance to take you guys there and you’re the only one that’d be able to bring us up.”

“Oh, sure. Uh, FRIDAY? Can you bring us up to the training room please?”

The elevator lurches up in response causing a few kids to stumble at the sudden movement. Peter chuckles, reminiscing of the time he did the same thing the day he met Bucky in the elevator. He was too busy fanboying to remember how fast the elevator traveled. He ended up falling into Bucky, leaving both of them apologizing up until they made it to the intern labs where Peter got off red as a tomato. Stark often reminds them both of it because Bucky had entered the penthouse freaked out that he had accidentally hurt a child.

His laughter results in a few embarrassed glares, but he still thinks it’s worth it. FRIDAY announces that they’ve aived on the training food so they all step out and travel down the exceptionally long hallway to the end where there’s a glass door, Mars peers through and goes pale, “uh… it appears that some of the Avengers are currently training in here so give me a second to make sure it’s okay we come in.” He slowly cracks the door open and peers his head in, “umm… I’m here with the tour group from Midtown, Our schedule has been changed and we were supposed to come here after lunch, is that okay?”

“Midtown? Isn’t that Peter’s school? Sure you guys can come in!” Steve announces from inside.

Peter sighs, knowing that they’ve definitely had this planned all along. The class lines up against an empty wall, watching in awe at the battle taking place. At the moment, Natasha is in the middle of sparring with Clint. They go back and forth, exchanging hits and blocks. Eventually Natasha manages to swipe Clint’s feet from underneath him. She traps him on the ground and a few seconds later he taps out. “Alright guys, that was a successful spar,” Natasha says to the class in between sips of water, “no one got hut… too badly. Bird Brain over here could obviously never beat me without a few injuries on both of our parts. Anyway, because you are here and because you are the class of our favorite маленький паук (little spider), we are going to teach you some basic self defense and give some of you the chance to spar with one of us. To start I’ll show you what to do, then partner up and practice. MJ, can you come up here please?”

MJ smirks and slides off her jacket and hands it to Ned before stepping into the small ring. Many of the students wondered why Natasha knew MJ by name and was asking her for help. MJ often sparred with Nat and was actually quite good at it. Peter was sure that if she was enhanced like him she could easily take him down.

Since they’d previously sparred before, MJ knew exactly what to do. Natasha first demonstrated a punch, knowing that MJ would show the proper way to block. Afterwards, she showed a kick. After they're done MJ returns to the group, punching Ned on the arm when he keeps staring at her, amazed that she just “fought” Black Widow. Natasha tells everyone to partner up and announces that the four of them would be walking around and making sure everyone was doing good. Peter pairs up with MJ, which Ned is actually happy about because he knows that they would easily be able to beat him. He spent most of his time at SI in the labs with Bruce rather than learning to fight so he partnered up with someone who also didn’t really know what they were doing.

Natasha walks by while Peter and MJ are practicing the different punches and kicks and tells them that they can practice with the bo staff in the arena if they want. Nat had been giving them lessons on different fighting techniques and weapons and currently they were working on the bo staff. They take turns practicing different blocks and strikes, and even a few spins to show off. They end their mini-practice session with a spar. Both start on opposite ends before they begin circling each other.

Peter makes the first move by making a jab motion with the staff aimed at MJ’s chest. She blocks it and twirls his staff with her own before knocking it to the ground. She follows that by using the staff to pole vault herself towards Peter and kicks him in the chest. He falls back with a grunt, using her moment of appreciation to quickly analyze the situation before standing up and flipping over her to regain possession of his staff. He spins around in time to block a hit from her. He follows that by spinning in the air and kicking her mid-air. She stumbles backwards, trying to regain balance. He moves forward to continue but suddenly stops when he hears Natasha talking, “alight guys, that’s enough. Time for some of you guys to spar with us. Get some water if you need it, then line back up.”

Peter turns around and becomes suddenly aware that everyone has been watching him and MJ fight. He offers a sheepish grin before following Nat’s instructions. He puts the staff away and grabs some water, sipping on it as he rejoins the group of students, who have stopped staring at him and have returned to paying attention to Natasha. “Alight, this is how this is going to go. You’ll raise your hand if you want to spar with one of us. I’ll call on you one by one and you can stay who you want to spar and we’ll go from there. Sound good?” she’s met with a bunch of nodding heads so she continues, “okay who’s first… how about you right there,” she points to Flash, “who do you want to spar with?”

“You.”

“Alright then, step up,”

He walks into the ring confidently, “don't go easy on my, I can take it. In fact, I’ll try to go easy on you, don’t want to hurt a girl.”

Peter, who up until this point had been trying to hold in a laugh, knowing fully well that Flash was going to get absolutely pummeled, couldn’t contain his laughter and ended up choking from laughing so hard, Flash glares at him while Natsha sends him a playful grin, knowing exactly why he was laughing, “маленький паук (little spider), hush now, see what he can do!”

Flash, assuming she’s telling Peter off, immediately returns to smirking, he turns back to Natasha and sees that she has assumed a fighting stance, he gets into a fighting position of his own, waiting for Steve to tell them to start. Natsha notes all the incorrect things about his pose from the beginning. As soon as Steve says, “start,” she’s ready. Flash runs at her, expecting to be able to tackle her immediately. Instead, she grabs him and swings him around before slamming him down onto the ground. He ends up with the wind knocked out of him. He lays there for a few minutes, struggling to catch his breath. Then, finally, he stands up and limps out of the arena.

After that, most of the students are afraid to volunteer. However, oce the next person goes and the Avengers go much easier on them, more people are willing to try. Once everyone who wants to has gone Natasha begins scanning the coed of students for Peter. Sheinds him near the back and smiles, “Peter! Why don’t you come up here and show your classmates what a real spar looks like.”

“Uh, no thanks Nat. I’m good.”

“Come on маленький паук (little spider), pleasee? For me?”

“Seriously, тетя таша (Aunt Tasha), I’m fine.”

“Хорошо, тогда ты просто присоединишься к нам в битве с твоим хулигано (Fine then, you'll just join us in a nerf battle against your bully there).”

“мама паук, пожалуйста, нет (Mama Spider, please no).”

“Она права, Пит. нужно за себя постоять, да к тому же это то или мы сами его избиваем (She's right Pete. You need to stand up for yourself. And besides, it's this or we beat him up ourselves) , “Bucky adds, having been listening to their conversation that no one else understood.

“Хорошо, но я могу выбирать команды (Fine, but I get to choose teams).”

They turn their focus back to the rest of the group and realize they’re staring, again.

Good freaking job, Peter. Now they all know you speak Russian. You freaking idiot.

Don’t start thinking like that again Peter.

What? Wanda? What are you doing inside my head and where are you?

Outside the training room. Natsaha connected to me via our private mind link and told me to send a group of us down for a nerf battle.

Oh no. How many of there are you?

Me, Clint, Sam, Scott, Wade, Nebula, and Pietro.

Oh, this is going to be awesome.

Indeed.

Peter feels her leaving his mind and is thankful that she doesn’t bring the comment back up. Natsha begins explaining to the rest of the class that they’re going to see one of the training exercises that the Avengers do. She also explains how she’s going to choose two people who each can create a team of 6 people, a mix of Avengers and students, to take part in the training exercise.

As she finishes her explanation, the group of Avengers that Wanda mentioned walk through the door and join Bucky, Steve, and Natasha at the front of the room. Natsha smiles at the room of star-struck children before calling out the team captains of the training exercise, “Flash, Peter. You two are going to be the team captains of the training exercise. Peter, you can choose first. Come up here, the both of you, and go back and forth choosing.

“I want Nat.” Peter says.

“I’ll take Hawkeye,” Flash chooses.

“Bucky.” “Captain America,”

“Nebula.”

“Falcon.” “Wanda.” “Pietro.” “MJ.” Peter says, leaving Flash with a confused look, wondering why Peter would choose a student over an Avenger.

“Ned.”

“Deadpool.”

Wade gives his boyfriend a hurt look. Peter gives him puppy dog eyes and mouths,” he’d be sad. You’re fine.” Wade sticks his tongue out but joins Flash’s side of the room. “Alright guys these are the rules- if you’re enhanced, no using your powers. If you get hit you’re out, leave the arena and join the tour group in the spectator section. Don’t cheat, FRIDAY will be reffing and will call you out.

With that, she presses a button, revealing an entire arena of parkour and bunkers. There’s nerf guns spread out all around the arena, as well as more ammo. The closer to the center you get the better guns there are. Each team has a starting base where each person has a pistol with two bullets to start.

“To your starting bases! FRIDAY announces.

#fanfic #fanfiction #avengers #domesticavengers #peter #peterparker #spiderman #ironman #irondad #spiderson #fieldtripau #spideypool #spidey #spidermom #protectiveavengers

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fangirlbase · 3 years

Text

The Howl of the Moon - Remus Lupin

Summary:

After a terrible accident in the battle at the Ministry in 1995, Hermione Granger wins a one-way ticket to the past. Unable to go back to his time, his only chance for survival is to adapt to the late 70s and get on with his life, interfering as little as possible so that the future does not fall apart.

However, everything goes downhill when Remus John Lupine starts to notice too much the new girl who clearly wanted to go unnoticed by Hogwarts.

Warnings: matureSummary:After a terrible accident in the battle at the Ministry in 1995, Hermione Granger wins a one-way ticket to the past. Unable to go back to his time, his only chance for survival is to adapt to the late 70s and get on with his life, interfering as little as possible so that the future does not fall apart.However, everything goes downhill when Remus John Lupine starts to notice too much the new girl who clearly wanted to go unnoticed by Hogwarts.Chapters: Prolog | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | SevenWarnings: mature

5.The one of the fight

- Come on, Remus! It's no problem for you to spend Easter at home! - Peter offered just before they boarded the express for the holiday.

- I would be a nuisance, Rabbit. Your parents wouldn't know about my arrival, and I haven't even told my parents about the change of plans.

- But if you thought it best not to come back this year...

- I'll be fine, Pete. It's not even close to the moon, it's just a few days. - Remus calmed his friend, saying good-bye to the rest of the group, and as usual Sirius would spend the holiday with the Potters, after all he had been practically adopted by Euphemia.

That hadn't been a lie at all. His parents were really going through a fight at the moment-and he didn't want to go into an environment where they were at war-but the decision to stay in school had been his alone. He knew that Jean would stay in school, and since she didn't have any other friends he thought it was a good idea to stay and keep her company.

I mean, at least he had thought about it, since Jean didn't seem to be that interested in his company. She had unfortunately found another poor soul to disturb-or at least that was how Severe Snape liked to grumble about her company. Since the day the girl had helped him with his transfiguration work, time and again they had met and studied together in the library - not together, together, but in the sense of coexisting at the same table, with occasional exchanges of words where they would clear up a question or two with each other.

That was the most Snape could allow himself to do considering the amount of eyes around, after all, he was a sonserine and proud of it, but he also had to consider the presence of his housemates - not that his fellow diners would attack her just for asking a question, but they would make the Griffin girl's life a living hell if they wanted to (as hellish as Sirius Black calling her out daily) and he didn't want that for her, after all she was even tolerable. After all, Severe Prince Snape had acquired a mild sympathy for Jean Granger to the point that he wanted her to have peace during her years as a student - and of course even sporadically study with him.

"Only Griffin girl who has a bit of brain matter" - he had muttered one day, eliciting a low chuckle from her, as well as a small smile of his own.

Remus did not share the same hatred for Snape that Sirius and James had. To tell the truth, he was perhaps at the same level of dislike that Peter had for the sonserine, which was nil. He honestly had nothing against Snape, he just thought he was snotty, but this whole situation of comp-dividing Jean's attention was irritating Moony, at least that's what Remus was telling himself, that it was his wolf side that was really bothering him and not him per se, not completely, maybe a part of it?

Truth be told, since Remus had witnessed the whole Severo-Lillian situation (two years earlier) he felt duty-bound to spare Jean from going through any situation merely similar to the one starring the sonserine. She didn't deserve to be called names or anything like that! So, in Lupin's eyes, Snape was far from being someone to be trusted, especially considering the other friendships he maintained when he was away from the girl.

Thus, unconsciously, Remus had taken it upon himself to be the "knight in shining armor" for Jean, not that he needed to or much less that she would accept it if she knew what the boy was thinking, but in any case for him to protect her from the evil sonserines he needed to find her first. Come on, it was almost eleven o'clock in the morning on a Thursday, where could the witch be?

The common room? No.

Great Hall? No.

Astronomy tower? No.

Library? No.

Black lake? No.

Whomping Willow? Yes.

Yes!?

What the hell was Jean doing there? Was it really her? Forcing his eyes open, Remus saw a figure sitting in the line just before the range of the Whomping Willow, staring up at the tree with a lost expression on her face. Approaching without any care, Remus could not hold his curiosity as he sat down next to her.

- Why are you alone here?

- The castle is almost empty, I would be alone anywhere else.

- But why here?

- I woke up in a mood for fights, and since we don't have an active dueling club at school, I thought that watching the willow fight with the air would be a good substitute.

- Wouldn't that be hurting any tree protection rights? - Remus amused.

- I'm not the one hurting or attacking the tree, I'm just here as a spectator! - Hermione defended herself. - By the way, in all your time here, have you by any chance ever seen it treated by a gardener? - Hermione pondered, remembering when the Weasley's car had crashed into her in her second year.

Professor Snape had gone to a lot of trouble to get the bodywork back that night, along with Madame Hootch and Pomona Sproutch.

- I think only a couple of times... Did you know that she was almost killed once?

- Hit by a car? - She joked.

- What?

- I mean, I guess it takes an accident like that to almost kill a tree that fights with anyone who comes near it!

- Actually, it was just a very intense winter. He even kept a scarf wrapped around his trunk, out of respect.

Hermione bent her body to the side, leaning her head briefly on Remus' right shoulder, imagining the situation - but as she giggled from imagining the willow tree with a thermometer in its knot measuring its temperature, Remus froze. Wide-eyed, his breath caught in his throat. Was she really lying on his shoulder?!

Looking away, he could see that yes, she was. Should he move? Should he sigh? At least breathe again!

But with his breathing, came along Jean's scent, penetrating through his entire respiratory and cardiac system, making a....

"Yummy..." - Nosy Stupid as always allowed himself to pay attention to the conversation.

Oh my! He had stopped himself for a second before sticking his nose into the short hair of the girl next to him!

"Get a grip, SLOUTY" - Remus scolded the wolf, hearing a snort in response.

- Sorry. - Hermione realized where she was, pulling away immediately.

- No problem. - Remus replied, blushing.

- If you don't mind my asking, why did you stay here?

- Did you think I was going to leave you alone with that snotty guy? - Remus was amused, but when he saw Jean's closed expression, he realized that jokes didn't work on her. - Besides.... I didn't want to go home. My parents... They're fighting, and I didn't want to be in the middle of it all just when... I feel guilty about everything.

- Guilty, Lupin?

- I said, you can call me by my first name. - He gave a half smile.

- I like your last name, it's nice.

"Just the last name?" Moony took offense.

"With the scars you left me no one will ever think I'm handsome, you idiot."

"I a comma, you who did this to yourself trying to suppress me!"

- Caham - he huffed, focusing again on the conversation and not on his mental monologue with his other animal part - They fight a lot because of me, so I prefer not to be around, so as not to cause or feel pain.

- Nothing is your fault, Remus. - Hermione looked deep into his eyes, holding up her hands on impulse.

She hated the feeling of guilt she knew he always carried. He was a child, damn it! If there was one guilty party in that story, it was Greyback!

Remus just stared in shock at her joined hands. God, would she ever stop surprising him?! Hermione realized what she had done, but when she tried to pull her hands back, she felt him hold them tightly, preventing the movement. But Lupin had nothing to add to the conversation, he just wanted to feel the comforting touch in her hands some more, with the cool breeze hitting his face, bringing along with it Jean's scent and calming him in unthinkable ways.

He was letting someone else - and more specifically, a girl - touch him, and enjoying it.

* * *

- I didn't know your favorite chocolate, but I thought you might like this one. - Hermione passed the candy to Snape as if it were contraband when they bumped into each other in the hallway on Sunday.

- Chocolate with mint? - Severus looked at her strangely, stopping in his tracks to pay attention to her.

- Yeah, not sour, but weird enough to give you a reason to frown. - She joked, receiving a cold stare from him.

- Is this some kind of joke?

- It's not cursed, it's an Easter present, that's all!

Suspicious, Snape opened the package and broke off two pieces, handing one to her first, informing her that she would be his guinea pig. Rolling her eyes, Hermione put the candy in her mouth, making a face, being followed by him.

Who, instead of grimacing, smiled.

- It looks like I swallowed a tube of toothpaste!

- And you're happy about that?!

- It's a two-in-one chocolate, Granger! You eat it and brush your teeth in the process.

- Was that a joke?

- It was just a thank you, that's all. - He closed his expression again, but gave her the slightest smile before walking back towards the dungeon.

Just the fact that he could see she was running from those stupid Marauders and preferred to spend her time with him was a good softener for his ego.

And just as quickly as they had met, the two of them parted, each to their own corner. There were not supposed to be more than fifteen people in the school during that holiday, so that supervising the students became much easier - and gossip-worthy among the faculty, that is.

Minerva McGonagall stood at the end of the corridor, keeping an eye on her pupil. Not that she was curious, but she had already noticed that Mr. Lupin was no longer the only one the griffin girl interacted with, as now more recently Mr. Snape had become a constant in the girl's daily life. Of course Minerva as teacher and tutor was happy that little by little Jean was opening up to the reality she found herself and was making new friends, or perhaps more than friends. Was there something going on between Remus and Jean for their estrangement? The incorrigible romantic part of her wanted very much to believe so - even more so with it being a love triangle! Lupin and Snape would excuse her, but the thrill of a love story between quarrels and declarations had always attracted her, but since it wasn't her place to get involved, she could only observe Jean, and once in a while interfere, just like now.

- Jean, dear, are you all right? - Minerva intercepted her as she passed by.

- Yes, Professor. Is something wrong?

- Just checking. As head teacher of Griffin, I can't go out on holidays, unless no one from my house is staying.

- But at Christmas some people stayed...

- That was a separate situation. Principal Dumbledore took over the supervision of our house and gave me a leave of absence. Anyway, is everything all right?

- Yes, yes. I didn't used to celebrate Easter so much before, so it's just... another Sunday. A Sunday with chocolate. - Hermione gave a half smile.

- If you need to talk, you know where my room is.

- But talk about what?

- Just about anything. - And with a wink, Minerva left.

Which meant nothing to Hermione, who thought her tutor had a nervous tic in her eyes.

____________

On holidays like this one, where only a small number of students remained at school, Dumbledore usually abolished the house system and unified everyone at a single table - and this Sunday dinner was no different. However, not everyone was comfortable with the situation, preferring to stay away from each other.

- Do you mind if I sit here? - Remus asked, already sitting next to Jean.

- Would it make any difference if I said no? - Jean asked with a smile.

- Not much. - He returned it with another, setting the alert for the gossips on duty. - I haven't seen you all day.

- I was out and about, nothing very special. Have you looked for me? Do you need anything? I thought we were only going to go over the lesson plan for the tutorial on Tuesday.

- Actually, there's not much to do on holidays around here. - He shrugged. - Sirius, James and Peter aren't here and I'm already ahead of schedule with all my assignments.

- So I'm only your third choice for company? I'm disappointed, Mr. Lupin. I thought we were friends. - You teased.

- I would say fourth, since I only looked for you now in the evening and not in the afternoon.

Neither of them had noticed when the flirting had begun, but if you were to bet, it was more of a flirting situation - just like Sirius with anyone, or James with Lily at the beginning of his romantic pursuit of the redhead.

- You've been reading all afternoon, haven't you? That's why you only remembered me now.

- Studying is quite different from reading. - He shrugged.

"I think you spend too much time with boys.

- By the way, since you reminded me. I think we could take the opportunity to discuss some of the monitoring stuff later in the communal hall. - Remus couldn't help himself.

- Do we have to?

- For some reason people in my year prefer your mentoring to mine.

- I didn't realize this, but if you say so.

Their conversation was interrupted by the dinner in front of them, occupying them for the next twenty minutes. Contrary to what Sirius had said months before, Hermione didn't murder the chicken thigh with her hands, she ate it delicately even - but she had no reason to be upset and take it out on the chicken.

As the two of them got up together, one or two gossiping professors exchanged galleons of a bet not at all worthy of educators. As they passed the stairs, they had to wait five minutes until they decided to return to their original position, giving them permission to go up towards the tower, in the meantime they talked quietly as if the whole scene created by Evans had never happened and had shaken their friendship. Once in the communal hall, Remus sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace, waiting for Jean to sit down on the couch next to him.

- You know, not that many people go to the monitorship.

- But of all the three who went, two went to you.

- In contrast, the four below in seventh grade ignored me and asked you for help, and I'm not complaining about that.

The truth was that most of the people who went to talk to him were only because it was the only possibility and opening he gave them to approach him.

- Probably because they think you will jinx them. - Remus commented, pulling a chocolate bar from his coat pocket.

- And why would I do that? - Jean asked, taking the chocolate he offered her.

- You're not one of the more sociable ones, you know. - He looked at her as he bit into the candy.

- Neither are you.

- But you're different. I've been here for seven years, you've just arrived, and you still have that frown on your face. That's scary, you know?

- At least the person I wanted to scare the most, the one I wanted to scare the most, the bridge of running away with my tail between my legs, is still giving me a hard time.

- Sirius?

- That's right. How do you manage to hang out with him without going crazy? Worse, how can you eat so much chocolate and still have this body?

- This body? - He was surprised.

- Come on, don't play dumb! You don't seem to know how you... Yeah!

"She likes what she sees...?" - Moony found it strange.

- My metabolism is fast, that's all. - He shrugged trying to hide that he was slightly embarrassed both by her noticing him and by the unnecessary comment from the wolf that divided his body and clearly was the reason he kept stuffing himself with candy and never gained an ounce more.

'You're welcome.' - The wolf had the nerve to say thank you.

- Well, mine is too, and if I don't control myself, I'll win very quickly.

- I don't think... I think you're fine the way you are, it's just your hair that I have my disagreements with, but you already know that. - Remus said without thinking, stuffing a giant piece of chocolate into his mouth to keep himself occupied.

- Was that a compliment? - Hermione was amused.

- I only returned what you said before, but I really preferred your long curls.

- Thank you, Hermione. For the compliment and well... for liking my curls.

* * *

As fast as it came, the easter holiday was over, and as far as our couple "friends" were concerned it was as if all the misunderstanding of Valentine's Day hadn't happened, Hermione and Remus went back to talking quietly, exchanging books of common interest, preparing the tutoring classes and when they didn't study together it was because Remus was with the Rascals while Jean was in the library with a certain sonserino.

Saturday had arrived once again and naturally the morning was busy with the various groups of students coming and going from their tour of Hogsmeade! Hermione had left early, intending to buy some new feathers, since hers had mysteriously appeared enchanted the previous afternoon, just writing...

"Sirius Black is a handsome fellow"

"Sirius Black is calling you to go out next weekend"

"My dream is to go out with Sirius Black"

"Why does the pretty girl pay attention to nerdy Lupin and not Sirius Black?"

She had to admit, Sirius had style - he even managed to get a smile out of her with that tactic (followed by a celebration a la Pele and Galvão Bueno at the 1998 World Cup final when the older man noticed her smile in the communal room). But although she found the gesture funny, Hermione couldn't hand in her assignments with those sayings - how funny would it be for Professor Binns to receive an essay with only invitations to leave Sirius?

Making sure to leave her feather case well away from the naughty ones, Hermione slipped into the local bookstore, spending the next fifty minutes lost in thought, just perusing the new titles.

- Why isn't it a surprise to find you here? - Snape blinked as he pulled a book from the shelf and bumped into her.

- Probably because this is my natural habitat.

- A complete library pussy. - He replied in a sour voice, causing Hermione to look strangely at him, only to see Malfoy walking past them.

Which meant nothing, since he was more interested in wooing Narcisa Black than anything else.

- Since you insist on it... -Hermione shrugged, ignoring the sonserino, if he wanted to be her friend away from the eyes of others she wouldn't mind, it wasn't anyone's "dirty little secret"!

-Problems? - A third voice chimed in beside her.

Remus and Peter had arrived a few minutes ago only to hear the slight cursing.

- Why would I? - she wondered. Okay, Snape's tone when he called her a "Library rat" was anything but cordial, but she was a library rat and proud of it, so she would let herself be taken aback.

- Isn't that snotty guy bothering you? - Peter, who was not even in the bookstore of his own volition, made himself present, holding up his nose.

Oh, he hadn't done that.... Until then Hermione had treated him as politely as she would any other student at school, she kept reminding herself that he was still a normal person, a good friend of the rascals who hadn't yet betrayed them like the real rat he was. But calling Snape by that ridiculous nickname for no reason had given her every possible reason to disdain him, at least for the moment.

But she remembered that Remus had also called Severus that.

Gee, this floor is dirty, isn't it? You'd better give it a good wipe, that's for sure.

- Sorry, what?

- Snot...

- I heard perfectly well what you said, I just don't understand what or who you're referring to.

- Snape. - Remus translated uncomfortably, realizing how annoyed the girl was now with them.

- If you want to refer to him, call him by his last name, not by unnecessary nicknames. And no, I haven't had anyone bothering me so far. - She pointed out, and the next second she saw Lily walk through the doorway, which caused both her and Snape, who was still in the next hallway, to shiver. - If you'll excuse me.

She quickly left, or rather fled, the establishment - Hermione intended to hide from the redhead as long as she could after all the misunderstanding on Valentine's Day. Not that she thought Lily was going to make any little jokes about her and Lupin or anything, but she wanted to avoid any uncomfortable talk about apologies or anything like that. Hermione knew that the older girl hadn't meant any harm, it was actually a big misunderstanding, but running away seemed much easier than facing the redhead who insisted that she should get out of her bubble and make friends with the other girls she shared the dorm with...

Remus, on the other hand, had misinterpreted the whole situation. In his perception, Jean had left because she was really upset with the way he and Peter had treated Snape. That is, he who was already annoyed by Sirius' last attempt to get the girl's attention, was now infinitely more unhappy for having disappointed the witch. Come on, just when he thought he had succeeded in catching the attention of a pretty girl, Sirius went and tried and succeeded before him! Worse, even Snape had been defended by her! He was not happy about that at all.

"GO AFTER HER!" - Moony imposed his opinion, moving his legs and sending him after her.

He didn't have to walk very far, as soon as he left the bookstore leaving Peter with Lily and James he managed to spot her at the end of the street passing just followed her to .... House of Screams. Well, this was probably the first time he had seen her in the village, so it was only fair that she went there to see the famous haunted house... He just hoped she wouldn't be curious about the screams, since the person responsible (Him) had been trying to be noticed by her for a long time - he definitely didn't want it to be in the context of: "Hi, is I'm the reason people think the house is haunted because once a month I turn into a beast with claws and fangs that likes to howl at the moon." Ignoring his mental outburst he took a deep breath to build courage and ease the tension before getting the girl's attention.

- Is everything all right, Jean?

- Why wouldn't I be? - She didn't look at him.

- It's not like you to leave like that.

- If I had stayed, you would either have started a duel with Snape in the middle of the store, or Evans would have come to disturb me. Since I wanted neither, I left.

- Does she annoy you that much? - Remus didn't like the way he felt cringe at that idea.

- Doesn't she annoy you? It would be the same if you started pestering me that I was dating Snape, or worse, Malfoy. - She had been thinking about Draco at that moment, she admitted. I mean, not that she is this matchmaking or pushy person. I know she is a wonderful person, but she is trying very hard to get me to fit in with people and any sign of any interaction I have with any other student or pupil she turns into a huge happy thing

Every statement about a possible flirtation with Snape or Malfoy irritated Moony a little, so much so that Remus himself barely paid attention to the end of the girl's statement as he was trying to convince the wolf that eating snakes was not healthy at all.

- Can I ask you a question? - Hermione roused Remus from his bubble.

- He just did.

- What do you have against Snape?

- I have nothing against him, exactly..." She began to say, remembering not to call the boy a snot. - He is a sonserino who insists on mocking, even if not as openly as the other snakes, any Griffinian. And, well, after the whole situation with Lily in fifth year... I don't know if you know, but... In short, they were best friends until he said horrible things to her! So I can't tolerate guys like him on principle. Not to mention the company he keeps. It seems that I have a lot of things against him...

It wasn't as if Hermione had an answer for the situation, she herself knew how horrible it was to be called a bad blood, so it wasn't as if she could defend Snape in that sense. And the Griffinian-Sonserine implications were a rivalry as old as time, meaning both sides were wrong and unless someone decided to be an adult in the situation and put an end to those implications nothing would be solved. But soon her contemplative silence was interrupted when Remus turned to her.

- That's why I don't like him! - said the boy as if he had just discovered the real reason for his dislike of the Sonserine. - He hangs out with Avery, Mulciber, Malfoy, and Black, and if you haven't noticed, all of them are the offspring of dinosaurs!

- Sirius is also a Black and the son of a diner, and frankly I don't see either you or James becoming one. - Hermione let it slip, losing her color after the quick realization that she had left Peter out of her statement.

A fact that Remus, thank God, didn't notice.

- But they are diners, diners, Hermione! - Remus said his real name, low and exasperated. - The ones who destroyed your village, killed your parents and friends! The same ones who sent you here, made you need to change your name and... e.... cut your hair! - He spoke louder the last part, putting too much emphasis on his haircut than on everything else.

- It's just hair, Remus! - Hermione was already a little annoyed that he was insisting so much on this and wanted to divert the subject from anything about her "dead" parents or the attack of diners on her "village".

- Very nice hair! - His voice had come out a little huskier, with a golden glow quickly passing through his eyes.

"MOONY!" - Remus scolded the wolf, who was struggling to be heard since he had realized that all that arguing between Jean and her human part was certainly heading for a fight. Their first fight, by the way.

- Lupin, honestly... - Jean shook her head negatively, holding back from rolling her eyes. - If you're really going to give me a hard time about my friendship choices, I might as well do the same.

- What do you mean by that?

- You say I can't hang out with Snape because of what he's done to Lily in the past and because he's friends with "proto" dinosaurs, but you forget that you're not in a good situation yourself. If you really want me to stay away from Snape, I'll do it.

The smile began to grow on Remus' face, only to be interrupted with a

- But only if you stay away from James. - She would have liked to include Sirius in the speech by mentioning when the boy had set Severus up to go to the screaming house on a full moon where he could have died! But in theory she didn't know that so she wouldn't say anything.

- What? What does this have to do with anything?

-You complain so much about him calling Lily a Bad Blood, but you forget that he only did that after being hung upside down with no pants in the middle of the garden! By the way, why didn't you stop them?! You can't dislike people to the point of being irrelevant in matters like that!

- He told you...

- It wasn't only you who tried hard to keep me away from someone potentially dangerous. - he joked.

Remus took a deep breath, processing all of this. He couldn't, he just couldn't do that for just one girl, even if she was the most amazing, intelligent, beautiful girl he had ever met. James was his brother, the one who knew his secret and wouldn't give up his friendship even if it meant befriending a monster.

- I'm sorry, Granger. I can't do this.

- I know, that's exactly why I won't stay away from Snape either. They both made mistakes, but that doesn't mean they can't get a second chance and change for the better. James did it for Lily and I believe Snape just needs a little better friends. After all, as you pointed out, the company he keeps is dubious to say the least, but that doesn't mean he is evil. I'm not asking you to approach him and invite him over for tea, I'm just asking you not to worry about it.

- But I do worry about you! - he let slip, watching Jean's body tensing immediately. - I mean, you are my friend, and you are clearly associating with witches who will surely become the same as... those who took everything from you.

Indeed they would, but it would take them twenty years to do so.

- Remus, I'm not marrying him, just studying together. But if it worries you so much, I think you should start reviewing your list of friendships as soon as possible. - she said, turning her back to the boy.

Remus didn't know what to do when he saw her leave. He hated her disappointed tone, disappointed in him and his friends. And worse, he didn't know how to fix it, he couldn't just walk away from his best friends to defend his point of view, after all he himself knew that wasn't what Jean wanted when she forced the topic. But he also couldn't stop worrying about her and the risk she was taking by getting close to Snape and consequently other sonserinos who could be a real risk to her!

James' fights with Lily seemed much more fun, mainly because they were settled in the next second. Why couldn't his fight with Jean be the same way? He asked himself as he walked back to the village alone.

"It wouldn't be bad at all to get a reconciliation kiss" - Moony opined, remembering how James and Lily's fights were resolved.

Remus just laughed defeatedly, considering that lately the Wonder Couple's heated fights ended in a public spat, but Jean was just a friend?

No, she was definitely more than that! She was his best friend! And maybe... Anyway, he just wanted to work it out with her as soon as possible.

They needed to work it out!

#remione #remus lupin #sirius x remus x hermione #sirius x remus #sirius black #Hermione Granger #wolfstar #travel time #time turner #back in time

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ninjakitty15 · 3 years

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Chapter 7: Ain’t Nothing But A Horned God (Loki x OFC Pairing)

"You know, super strength and natural parkour aside, that kid is really living up to his second identity," I mused as Peter popped in right after Loki and I got dressed in our daywear clothes and were about to binge watch the Orville.

"Why do you say that?" Loki asked, eyeing Peter as well.

"If you get rid spiders the humane way and just release them into the wild again, they will still find their way back in. Hand me that newspaper over here, I can fix that."

"I thought you said he was cute, isn't that a term of endearment?" he teased.

"He lost that effect when he killed the mood I was about to build up here. The fuck you want, kid?" I barked at the energetic idiot Tony loved so much.

"Mr. Stark's not here?" Peter squeaked.

"Hell if I know, ask Friday or better yet, beat it."

My trying to get rid of the kid seemed to somehow have the exact opposite effect I had hoped for, not unlike when a person that can't deal with cats walks into a room with one in it, that cat will instantly greet the hapless person and never leave them alone. Peter apparently grew a pair and turned his attention on me specifically, seeing as he apparently had met Loki while I was in captivity.

"So you're one the team now, huh? Where you from?"

I blinked at his sudden confidence. "Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin," I sang the old tune of my town.

"Where's that?"

"Near Salem," murmured Loki beside me. "No wonder you wanted to go there yesterday, you were homesick."

"You've been in my position before I'm told so I'm guessing you know how I felt."

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"That would mean admitting I actually feel things and I'm not one to catch feels here, gross."

"Have you got a superhero name yet?" asked Peter eagerly.

"I'd have to be a hero first for that to work and I'd rather not."

"Why not, its the funnest! Get to meet all kinds of people and everything!"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "That's supposed to convince me? Really? Tony told me you were clever too, Loki you're the god of lies, how could you let that slide? I hate people, if anything that'd push me toward antihero or even villain. Kill em all and then add em to the undead army, who's with me?!"

"You said so yourself that would take a lot of energy and convincing to make your victims part of your army," mused Loki.

"Sshh, he doesn't know that. Why are you still here if Tony's gone?" I asked Peter.

"He told me I'm welcome to hang out with the team in his absence," Peter replied confidently. "What were you two doing before I got here?"

"Having passionate s/m sex in every room we can get into, you look a bit too young to join but you're welcome to watch," I teased.

"No one gets to watch that," Loki stated stiffly. "That's for our eyes only. Don't you have homework that needs doing about this time?"

"All finished, Aunt May says I can't go out and be Spiderman till its done. Hey, Mr. Loki, Tony says you're not actually from Asgard but a planet of frost giants, is that true?"

"How astute of him to bring that up," grumbled Loki. "Yes, what of it?"

"What do Frost Giants look like?"

"Pete, hun, you don't go asking gods questions like that," I warned the kid, seeing Loki get all tense and serious. "Didn't your aunt ever tell you to stop sticking your nose in places it's likely to get broken in?"

Loki however had other thoughts though didn't look too pleased in acting on them as his once fair skin started to turn blue, green eyes became red and curious markings formed on his head and face. Peter looked absolutely excited being the obnoxiously curious kid he was but made no move nor questions and just tried to his best not to piss off the god while studying him at the same time. I however couldn't help but reach over to touch his face though he caught my wrist.

"You'll burn with frost bite if you touch a frost giant or one touches you."

"Sweety you are touching me," I noted. "My flesh is dead, hydra already tried extreme temps on me, no sweat."

He quickly let go despite my reassurance in fear he was freezing me with his touch, a blackened handprint remained where he held me for a moment before my necro-magic healed it and I was back to simply being a reanimated walking dead girl. I gently touched his face, my thumb brushing over the markings.

"People seem to think red eyes always means evil here," I mused. "Yet theres a fuckton of superheroes wearing red elsewhere, Tony, this little arachnid that needs to be swatted with a newspaper, Thor's cape. Red doesn't mean evil, it means power, anyone wearing red is displaying a power move."

"You don't wear it," Loki told me.

"Weren't you listening during my many rants? I don't make a habit of displaying what I'm capable of, that totally gives me away before I can even attack. It's all about subtlety, something spiderling here needs to work on before asking gods sensitive questions." I glared at the kid who had the grace to look a little ashamed, it was almost cute. At that point, just for funsies, I snatched the newspaper on the coffee table, quickly rolled it up and started smacking the poor boy with it. "Bad spider!" Peter made little move to defend himself though didn't seem too bothered by being whacked by a dead woman either.

"Don't break him or Tony will kick you out," Loki warned though I could tell he was just as amused by my antics as I was smacking around Peter.

"Dude can catch a bus with his bare hands while some people can barely catch them on their feet, he's fine. Ain'tcha kiddo."

"Stop calling me kid, I'm a teenager," mumbled Peter.

"Which is just another term for a kid that thinks they're an adult so really you're not helping your case here. It's adorable how easy it is for you to dig your own grave, even if it with a beach shovel."

"Maybe he's more likely to break you if you keep teasing him," Loki noted.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

At the reference, Peter seemed to perk up again. "You've seen those movies?"

"Sweety, I might have been locked up for 5 years but even I know that everyone's seen at least one of them that's still alive."

"Why were you locked up, are you a criminal?"

"What did I tell you about asking sensitive questions, Loki, give me back my spider smasher."

"She was kept by Hydra, no you will not be beating on Tony's favorite project, especially not when there's surveilance everywhere in the tower."

I rolled my eyes at Loki and glared at him. "Meaniepants."

"Do all necromancers look like you?" Peter piped up.

My glare shifted to him then. "Look like me? You really wanna go there? I might be dead but I can still kick your ass, Spiderboy."

"It's spiderman," he grumbled.

"Not with that attitude it ain't."

He shot a web at me angrily and while I knew he never actually meant any harm and I wasn't quick enough to dodge it, I really hated spiderwebs since the first time I walked into one face first, unable to see it. Death magic rushed to the spot he hit me and essentially dissolved/rotted away whatever the hell the webs were made of so they fell apart and off me. Loki looked at me curiously while Peter looked just a little bit horrified. "Try that again, Pete, I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker." My eyes went white while blackened veins popped up around them. That got Peter more than horrified and he backed away with repetitive squeaky apologies. Seeing as he got the message, my face relaxed back to its normalness. "I fucking hate spiderwebs."

"I'm curious, if that was an enemy in front of you and not Peter, what would you have done?" asked Loki.

I turned over to the god and smirked maniacally. "Point me in the direction of one and you might find out."

"You didn't do this when we raided the Hydra base the second time."

"They weren't enemies, they're minions of them. Peter you're really cute but your curiosity is harshing my buzz here, lay off on the sugar and either buzz off or calmly wait for Tony to return. You're like ice cream to me right now, so good but so not worth the brain-freeze it comes with."

"If you're always getting a brain-freeze then you're eating it wrong," countered Peter smugly.

"There's hardly a wrong way to eat ice cream, kiddo."

"Um yeah there is, any way that's not right from a cone. Surely you jest."

"Prefer it with a spoon so I don't make a bigger mess of myself than I already do...and don't call me Shirely."

"Call me biased but I believe the spoon is the better option if we're talking the same food she was wolfing down right after she moved here," Loki noted. "I can't imagine a better way to eat it out of its original tub."

"Plus you can fend off intruders and late night food thieves with a spoon, kinda defenseless since you'd eat the cone after and then you got nothing but a sticky mess to contend with," I added.

"Hold up, that was you that ate my moosetracks ice cream?" Peter squeaked.

"Tony said he bought it and therefore it was his ice cream but he also said his helado es mi helado so not yours at all. Also Thor was the one that finished it because unlike some other Asgardians, he asked nicely."

Loki scoffed and playfully glared at me with crossed arms. "I do and take what I want, there's no need for formalities." His response was a well aimed throw pillow to the face because why else would you call them throw pillows if not for their intended purpose? "Are you sure you want to do that, love?"

"Am I sure? Kinda late to be asking that after the fact, init? But seeing as it already happened, I'm gonna go with yes I am, whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I have to ask if you're sure you wanna challenge the God of Mischief like that?" Peter asked me worriedly.

"Firstly, what's with people asking me if I'm sure, of the three of us which one here is still a virgin and learning the ropes of kicking ass and taking names? Secondly, if you're calling him that based solely on Norse Mythology he's also the goddess of eight legged foals and father of a world ending snake and thus far the only thing close to those myths is the bigass snake in his pants but that's none of my business."

Loki looked beyond amused at me both calling him out on his mythology and representation of it and that not so subtle compliment that may or may not have boosted his ego to the size of Yggdrasil and all the nine realms combined. "While I'm pleased with the last statement about me, I can very much assure I'm the master of mischief, that much of the myth is 100 percent true, Thor can attest to that and any surviving Asgardians besides him that know of me."

"Just because you are known for something specific does not make you the master of it. By that logic, I'm the Goddess of Zombies."

"Hela beat you to that by at least a thousand years," Loki argued.

I glared at my lover and eyed the nearest throw pillow in contemplation, maybe I should hold it against his face gently and then apply pressure. "Sure, if there really was just one realm of gods to go with that might work in your favor."

"What do you believe in then? Where does your faith lie if not in yourself?" he challenged.

"In my life, in my experience and in my line of work there is only kind of gods I follow in faith and those are the gods of death."

Whether he caught onto it or knew my line of thought somehow or not, I couldnt tell but his next response was damn near perfect. "And what do you pray to the gods of death."

I grinned wickedly. "Not today, bitch."

"I'm hurt you wouldn't consider praying for me on your knees," purred Loki.

"The only way to get me on my knees is by taking away what keeps me standing and at the moment you've become my reason to stand these days," I replied smoothly, catching him off guard with the claim of more mortal devotion. "Would think that's obvious considering I come alive at your touch."

We stared at each other for a long silent moment, Loki looking somewhere between admiration and something else I couldn't quite place, his eyes shining like freshly cut and polished emeralds. He also looked torn between wanting to shove me against the nearest wall and makeout or reply with a smoother, wittier comeback because this dude was as desperate to have me as he was to have the last word and prove he was the master of mischief. Men in a nutshell, doesn't matter where they're from or how hard they are to kill. Speaking of things hard to kill, the arachnaboy was still present in the room, watching the two of us verbally spar/flirt before something apparently clicked in his head and he frowned, turning toward me.

"H-how exactly would you know if I was a virgin or not?"

I cackled at his attempt to call me out and act at least a little more confident. "Elementary my dear Parker. Besides the fact you both look and act a day before you're legally of age in this country? It might have something to do with your reaction to Loki's pants snake- there it is! You look different shades of uncomfortable hearing about just the size of someone's dong. Guys usually are either confident with what they got or pretend they are long enough to snag someone to use it on and hope for the best...There's also the fact regardless of age and powers you're radiating with life unsullied, I can sense it on you. Lemme know when you are legal and I might be able to help you with that though." I winked at him, causing yet another priceless reaction from Peter and a scowl from Loki.

"I'm not overly fond of sharing."

"Don't knock til you tried it, besides, I could be six fix under by the time he's open for business, right Pete?" I nudged the poor kid with an elbow for good measure, it was too much fun messing with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm just getting so many mixed signals from you right now I gotta sit down and um wait for Mr. Stark."

I watched the kid scoot away to another room, leaving us alone for once and I grinned and relaxed, turning my attention back to Loki. "And that is how you get rid of a spider properly, if you can't kill it, make it wish it never came in."

"That whole charade was to scare him off?" asked Loki incredulously.

"He's just so precious and innocent, his ears must be burning from the naughty stuff by now. I mean yeah, if he was legal I still wouldn't mind corrupting him physically but I doubt he's got the stones to take me up on that should I be around then. Besides, there's more than one way to sacrificing a virgin these days, isn't that what you gods demand all the time?"

"I'd rather just take you on the sacrificial altar several times over till I'm the only god that can give you what you pray for," he growled.

I blinked in surprised, he was usually a little more clever and subtle in his suggestions and I somehow activated the animal in him with my incessant sexual teasing between him and Peter. "Would the couch do? I don't think the coffee table would survive despite it being solid mahogany." An uncharacteristic squeal of surprise escaped me as his response was a low growl followed closely by a master of mischief pouncing on me.

#loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #lokixofc #loki x ofc #loki x original female character #nell the necromancer #necromancy #loki x nell #avengers #necromancer

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years

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Lost Without Her: I’m Broken

*Not My Gif*

Summary: It’s been 5 years since half the world was snapped away, 6 months since her mom, Natasha sacrificed herself and the world came back, but how does she handle it after her world flips upside down?

~Lost Without Her Master~

Post Date: 11-26-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Romanoff!Reader

Word Count: 2K

~Master~

~Marvel Master~

Peter rolled onto his side, groaning a little from the way the floor hurt his back as he slept. His eyes fluttered open, drinking in the darkness as Clint let out a loud snore, making Peter scoff and push his pillows into his ears to block out the sound. Something felt off in Peter as he sat up quickly, scanning around the room. Everything looked fine as Peter relaxed, finally taking a look at where you were supposed to be sleeping. Your blanket was askew, and you weren’t even in the spot.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered into the room, careful not to wake Clint up but enough for you to hear. “Y/N?!” he repeated before standing up and searching around the store. He couldn’t find you anywhere inside as he made his way up to the roof. When Peter and you first became friends, you spent hours and hours a top any building you could. He pulled open the door, the crisp night air hitting his arms made him shiver but he ignored it, finding your silhouette barely lit by an old streetlight a few yards away. You were sitting on the ledge of the building and he didn’t know if he should’ve approached you, but it didn’t matter as the door squeaked when he shifted. Your body tensed as you reached for the gun you always kept close and aimed it at the door. Peter put his hands up, making you relieved to learn it was just him but a little irritated.

“Sorry. Reflex.” You explained as you tucked the gun into your pants again, turning out into the sky. Peter just stood there, unsure of what to do. With the drop of your head you let him join you, you were both silent and Peter kept looking at you in the corner of his eyes.

“Didn’t know you had that.” He said as he nodded down to your shirt. You pulled it away from your body, chuckling at yourself. It was one of Peter’s old shirts you stole before the blip. You ran your thumb across the fabric before letting it fall.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” You shrugged and for a moment everything seemed simple. Peter and you were acting like normal and it gave you some sort of comfort. Peter smiled at you, seeing the kid come out of the stoic assassin as he subconsciously scooted closer. That’s what shot you back into reality as you felt the cool metal of the gun caress your lower back, and you sat up straighter. “Peter.” You whispered as Peter didn’t move away, only nodding his head.

“What happened to you Y/N?” he asked so innocently and for a second you didn’t know what to say.

“I gave up.”

Peter let his eyes drop, denial seeping through his expression enough for you to already guess his next question.

“Why?”

And there it was.

You stared straight out in front of you, ignoring the way your eyes seemed heavier and it felt like something was scratching the inside of your throat. “I listened to my heart instead of my brain, ended up on shits creek with no way out.”

Peter couldn’t say anything, all the words dying on his tongue as watched a slight bit of rain get stuck in your hair. You looked up into the sky, letting your eyes close as the rain encased you face. Peter was entranced as he watched you, drinking up all the things that have changed in your 5 years. Your Y/H/C hair was longer, and your face had matured into one a 17-year-old would wear. You filled Peter’s shirt better than you used too and it no longer looked like a dress on you, but that was expected. And the scars.

“Stop staring Pete. It’s weird.” Peter blushed as he looked away from you. There were a few things that were the same. Like your distaste for being stared at. Peter guessed it worked for you being an assassin, hating being looked at so you made sure no one was.

“How’s May? And Ned?” You wanted to be alone but knowing Peter wasn’t going to do that, you decided small talk was best.

“They’re good. May has been trying to figure out where we’re living now. When we blipped back, there were people already living in our apartment.” You felt a little guilty. The avengers should’ve protected Peter’s place, not let someone else take it, but how were you supposed to know they would come back.

You licked your lip, willing yourself to ask him another question. “And the team?”

Peter bit his lip, running his hand up and down his arm to soothe some of his nerves as he sighed. “They miss you. Everyone misses you Y/N. They want you to come home. I want you to come home.”

“Peter.”

“No, Y/N, please.” His voice cracked as you turned to look at him shaking your head as a tear ran down your check, blending in with the rain around you.

“Peter I can’t.” Peter couldn’t control himself as he lifted his thumb to under your eye, wiping the drops from your cheek as you sought comfort in his touch, a touch from someone who wasn’t trying to kill you was rare now these days for you and you missed them. Peter dragged his thumb across your skin, the feeling of your scars under the pad of his thumb should’ve made you pull away, but Peter’s touch was different. It was almost as if he made them better. You looked into his brown eyes as he met yours. He seemed closer, but you didn’t mind. Flickering your eyes down to his lips, they parted slowly and yours copied, both of you leaning in just slightly as your eyes closed gently, savoring the last looks of Peter before you did the last thing you ever thought you’d be doing with Peter Parker.

Kissing.

But you didn’t. Instead a car alarm went off just a few blocks from you and you bolted apart, jumping even farther than you had been before. Your eyes were wide as you tried to process what was about to happen between you and Peter. Peter seemed to be in the same state as you, avoiding any type of eye contact you could as the alarm turned off.

“You shouldn’t have come here Peter. Neither of you should’ve.” You told him as you made your way off the roof, head back down to where you sleep. Clint was still sleeping, and Peter stayed on the roof, leaving you to your own mind to figure things out. You laid back in your spot, pulling the blankets up to your neck as Peter’s footsteps came down from the staircase. You know he could tell you weren’t sleeping but neither of you said anything as he laid in his spot as well, drifting off into a sleep as you stayed awake into the morning.

When the sun peaked into your shop you rolled over, seeing Peter and Clint both waking up due to the sun’s invasion. You pushed yourself up to a stance and cracked your back, eliciting groans from both the others. “Welcome to the real-world boys. Time to leave.” You tossed Clint’s bag at him, hitting him square in the chest as he furrowed his brows and watched you. You picked up Peter’s bag, tossing it at him but not bringing yourself to look in his eyes. Clint didn’t know what had happened between the two of you apparently sometime after he went to sleep but that wasn’t the most important thing now.

“You’re really going to make us leave?” he asked you as you hummed a yes, moving onto your work as you arranged your wall, filing some of the papers you had stored. “Y/N.” he took a few steps closer to you, but you didn’t see as your back was facing him. You didn’t turn around, just saying yes as Clint sighed deeply. “Y/N.” you repeated your action as Clint turned to Peter who looked like a deer caught in headlights as he defensively shrugged.

“Y/N, will you look at me!” You froze when Clint yelled at you, turning around with an attitude as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“What do you want, Barton?” Clint looked stunned when you called him that. You’ve only ever called him Clint or the occasional Uncle C, but that was before everything happened. He cleared his throat, pulling Peter up to where he stood knowing Peter was the key to everything.

“I know you think your home is gone Y/N, but there are still people who care about you back there.” Peter finally spoke as you looked at him, letting your defensive stance drop only slightly before hardening again.

“I don’t want to go back.”

Clint threw his hands up as if he was arguing with a three-year-old. “Why not?!”

“You both left me!” you ran a hand through your hair, pulling on it slightly as Peter spoke up.

“I didn’t have a choice.” He cried as you knew your breathing got more erratic.

“Yeah? Neither did I!” You let your eyes linger on Peter before facing Clint, seeing the way he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “But you did leave. You left me and my mom. Forgive me if I don’t forgive you.” You turned back to the wall, not even looking at it as you calmed down your racing heart enough to form a coherent thought. “It doesn’t matter. Even if I did go back, the Y/N that you know, the one you left, she’s gone. And don’t think she could ever come back if I tried. I’m too broken to be put together.”

“You’re not broken Y/N.” Peters hand made it to your shoulder, yet you didn’t turn around, hiding the tears coming down your face. Peter knee what you were doing. You were trying to stay strong and he knew you weren’t going to last long. “Y/- “

“Just admit it. I’m a mess up. I’m a specially trained agent ruining my mom’s legacy by going in a murderous rampage. I know that’s what everyone’s thinking back there. They sent you here to make me stop because I’m broken.” You knew you hit a cord when Peter gingerly removed his hand, letting his fingers linger a few seconds before dropping.

“Ok, we’ll go home.” You spun around quick, looking Peter in the eyes with fascination.

“What?”

“We’ll go home. You can stay here for as long as you need, and Mr. Barton and I will go home.” Peter shrugged as he played with his fingers, his eyes downcast every few seconds as Clint just stood in shock behind him.

“Peter.” He started as Peter glared at him, mouthing a ‘trust me’ that you couldn’t see, and Clint sighed deeply. “Alright. We’ll go.�� You never really imagined where to go from there. Never did you think they’d actually agree to go home, but you were going to ask if they were certain. Clint didn’t know if he should trust the boy or not, but he knew that you weren’t coming home without a fight and if Peter had a plan then he needed to risk it.

“We’ll see you around Y/N.” Peter said as you averted your gaze, knowing if you had your way, they wouldn’t see you again. Ever.

“Bye Pete. Bye Clint.” They left without another word and you were left in silence, staring at the front door to your shop as you realize how much you’ve thrown away. You pushed away the team, you moved across the world because you couldn’t handle the world without your mom, you began killing people, and you pushed Peter and Clint away when all they wanted to do was save you.

You broke yourself.

What did you think?

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

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starker= >“ you are a person, and i see you. ”“ all i had was you! ”

do the thing - send in all the prompts.

Thanks for this one, nonnie! It’s about 2k in length, hope you enjoy :]

Peter remembered the first time Tony called him “kid”. At the time, he actually was – a bright eyed 15-year-old that didn’t understand the game he played and the part he would eventually take in the ultimate showdown. He looked up to Tony Stark and when the reality of him was even better – well, there wasn’t any changing the way he felt. Despite that, it still hurt – the one person he wanted to be seen by looked at him like he was still in kindergarten, playing with blocks instead of playing with life or death situations.

The initial shift of something more between them happened right after the dusting. Peter and Tony were amongst the few still left in the group and It became pretty clear after Thanos destroyed the stones that sticking together was the only option. Tony took him under his wing after that, the older man showed him the ropes of the lab – his eyes flashing every time Peter understood or spoke about the thing Tony went to talk about before the man got started. Little by little, Peter thought they were making progress.

And then Steve Rogers came back into the picture, bringing about the idea that the stones could be saved – that if they were just right in their time travel, they could hit the reset button and recreate reality the way it should have been. Tony’s eyes were vacant the entire time – Peter understanding now that he was thinking, that thoughts were flitting through his head so quickly that paying attention took away from that. Peter figured he would have the answer within the next few hours – if it even took him that long.

Later in the lab, Peter was proven right when he heard Tony whoop – the large exhale of breath something he could only remember hearing a time or two before that moment. Turning at his own workspace, Peter caught Tony’s eyes. There were so many emotions raging within them – fear, excitement, uncertainty – hope. Lips suddenly dry, Peter slipped his tongue out to wet them, the feeling of anticipation so evident, he could taste it in the air.

“You did it, then?” Peter asked, his voice soft – the thought of what this could mean to everyone something he tried not to imagine, something he didn’t want to give himself hope for. Bringing everyone back would mean so many things for him – so many things for the rest of the world.

Tony rotated the 3D graphic on the screen, his eyes flitting from left to right to take everything in, to check and double check and check again. Peter got up from his chair and walked over to get a better look at the man and the plans before him. “I did it, Pete. Holy shit – I did it,” Tony mumbled, one of his arms wrapping tightly around Peter’s shoulder as he spoke. The excitement was tangible, Peter could feel it thrumming through Tony’s veins, their point of contact electric from it all.

Allowing himself to absorb all of the energy between them, Peter leaned into the touch – his eyes shutting for a moment. This was big, this was so big that the next few weeks would be pivotal to the fate of the rest of the population – hell, to the fate of the world. In the seconds that Tony kept up the embrace, Peter felt the time stop, the immensity of the situation dull, and the feeling of affection for the older man swell – even if just for that singular moment.

The contact broke after another few heartbeats – each one harder than the last. Tony pulled his arm back to once against swipe at the graphic, a small grin slipping across his lips with each subsequent time he did it. “So, what now, then?” Peter thought to ask after watching the damn thing spin for the twentieth time. Finding the answer was one thing, actually getting the job done – that was another.

“What happens now is this – we go back, we grab the stones, we set shit right, and then we go home to a world that is hopefully right where it is actually supposed to be,” Tony admitted, his eyes catching Pete’s. “What happens now is we save the world.”

Sucking in a gulp of air, Peter felt the immensity of that hit him – his chest tightening a little at the thought. The next thing that came to his mind was the fact that Tony said we. Since coming back from Titan, Peter didn’t feel nearly as far from Tony and the rest of the surviving Avengers – he fought hard and contributed to the mission, regardless of the terrible, terrible outcome they couldn’t stop from happening. That had to mean something, right?

“Does we include me?” Peter questioned, the eye contact between them never ceasing, brown meeting brown in a clash that would never resolve itself (especially when both men, despite not admitting it, didn’t want that old song and dance to ever happen.)

Tony threw that same arm around him again, his grip tight. “Of course, kid. You’re one of us now.”

And there it was – that word that made Peter’s skin crawl. They’d been working together side by side for 5 years now – 5 years in which Peter grew and changed, became an adult, and found a way to contribute to whatever Tony asked of him. In all that, he figured the man’s view of him would change – that maybe, just maybe, he could be taken seriously by Tony Stark for the first time ever.

“Is that really still how you think about me? Like I’m just some kid?” Peter moved out of Tony’s grip, his eyes traitorously starting to well up with tears he couldn’t remember ever letting fall. It made sense for a while – Tony’s feelings towards him. Peter was young when he got involved with everything – he was green and fresh, totally inexperienced when it came to just about everything.

The time on Titan forced him to grow up and the years of being isolated with the smartest man in the world taught him so many things. Tony had to see that.

There was silence for a second – the older man obviously thrown off the question. Peter didn’t relent, though; he needed to know the answer, to know that over the years, Tony learned about him and came to appreciate the steps Peter took on a daily basis to be good, to do good – to be worthy.

“I – no, Pete. Of course not. You are a person, and I see you. You’re a grown man with facial hair, even.” Recognizable fingers reached across the space, Tony touching his left cheek with a reverent sort of smile. “Old habits die hard. You’ve done all of this growing under my nose. I’ve noticed, even if you didn’t think I did. You’re not a kid, Pete. You don’t deserve to have me treat you like one, either.” Peter watched Tony struggle with those last few words – old habits really did die hard.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Peter turned and threw his arms around Tony’s neck, their bodies drawing close with the movement. “Thanks, Tony,” he mumbled, face fitting into the gap between neck and shoulder.

The process of building the machine didn’t take long with two masterminds and a Peter behind the wheel. The machine was up and running within six weeks and the plan was set – each group had a specific time period to travel to and collect the stones with as little noise as possible. When they all came back looking triumphant, Tony assembled the stones in the already made gauntlet.

After the snap and the destruction of Avenger’s Tower, Peter found himself swinging into the heat of battle – his eyes moving from one side of the field to the other, brown orbs catching up to Tony every chance he got.

Helping here and there, Peter’s big part didn’t come in until Thanos touched down and started to taunt them. His quick reflexes and even faster thinking had him swooping in and grabbing the gauntlet right from Thanos’s grip – the entire thing zinging with power from the leftover energy of the stones that were once within it.

A hand grabbing his shoulder took him out of his triumphant haze, Tony’s eyes were boring into him when he blinked his eyes open and looked around. “What the fuck was that, Pete?” Tony practically yelled in his face. The battle was warring around them, and yet – Tony thought scolding him was necessary.

“Tony, I got it. We just need to get the stones back and this is all over – I got it,” Peter repeated, his voice desperate, the words pleading in their own right. The idea of Tony reverting back to that stern father figure made his chest tighten – even in the midst of all the death, Peter still dreaded the thought.

“And you almost got yourself killed. You can’t do that, Pete. There’s too much at stake,” Tony got out, his body turning and flight boosters initiating while the words trailed from his mouth. Thanos’s men were quickly closing in on them.

“I didn’t get myself killed, Tony. I timed it right. I got the gauntlet – we can finish this!” Peter exclaimed, his voice loud now that he too was moving, his web shooters working on over time. “We can finish this, Tony!”

“I can’t lose you doing it, Pete.” Tony shouted back.

Each word hit Peter straight in the chest, his focus slipping for just a second. The hit he took in the process made his ears ring – his vision swimming for a second. He felt warm metal embrace him not long later, the loud thrum of the stabilizer in Tony’s gloved hand recognizable after so much time spent training and working in the other man’s presence. They landed near the base of what used to be Avenger’s Tower, Tony’s eyes ablaze.

“I’ll sit your ass on the sidelines if you get distracted like that again!” Tony roared, breaking the silence. His voice was stern, the look on his face serious – any façade the older man could usually put on was now gone, the situation calling for rawest of emotions.

“What did you mean? That you can’t lose me. What does that mean?” Peter asked, his brain still stuck on those words, the length of the sentence repeating in his head over, and over, and over again.

“We’re going to do this right now? Fuck, Pete – all I had was you! All I have. The past five years would have been something completely different without you and I can’t lose that. I can’t lose you. I can’t, Pete – I can’t.” His face plate came up then, tears in Tony’s eyes. “You’re everything.”

The battle was the furthest thing from Peter’s mind when he reached out and pulled Tony to him, breath huffing from his chest at the impact of the heavy suit. His lips were on Tony’s in an instant, all of the pent-up want, confusion, and need from the past five years finally culminating in the explosive passion of their beings finally connecting.

#ask prompts #bobbie writes #prompts #starker #ironspider #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #canon divergence #do the thing #nonnie #anonymous

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cogneartive · 5 years

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The Great Peter Infodump of March 2020

yo @brackets-and-woolly-hats @mijaco-geo and @mike-nesmith-for-mayor I have recently been informed that yall would really like me to infodump about Peter and I want to thank yall because I think if I held it in any longer I would explode

Also thanks to the coolcherrycream articles and various interviews that I learnt all these from in the 5-ish months I’ve been thinking about the monkees for

But before I start going hnngggg Peter I would like to warn you that despite my tone this is going to contain some heavy stuff. We’re talking brief mentions of blood, and suicide and death so be careful about that

This is gonna get hella long so *cracks knuckles* let’s begin

Childhood

let’s start from the very beginning: a very good place to start

Friday, 13th February one bb was born and he would always say that Friday the 13th was a lucky day for years onwards

He was born with a lot of diversity in his parentage

He’s Irish and German-Jewish on his mother’s side and Norwegian on his dad’s side

Speaking of Jewishness (is that a word???) I rememeber an article saying that he used to randomly say Hebrew words in interviews and I think he taught Mike how to say something too?? I dont know

Peter was a very friendly boy even when he was just a toddler cus he would drag any new friend he had home

Anyway, he was born in Washington DC

Once on Christmas he went missing and his mum and grams panicked and looked all over the house for him

Turns out he was just waiting at lampost in the snow because he wanted to make sure that Santa would bring him a present

Speaking of Grams, when he was 3 (i think im doing this from memory) he was at a post office with his mother when she came in.

He got uber excited and shouted “THAT’S MY GRAMS. HER NAME IS CAIT!”

And so everyone turned to look at her and he squealed

He would also often ride on the top part double deck buses and whenever the bus slowed down, he would wave to nearby people and say “HI MY NAME’S PETER WHAT’S YOUR?” to which those people who wave back and sometimes answer him. I mean, wouldn’t you?

Also he started to play with pianos when he was 3 and also he liked dancing so that’s cute

One of his first memories was of being at the hospital where his brother Nick (who they called Nicky and that’s what I’m going to call him) was born

Soon after Nicky was born they moved to Germany Yeet. He was 4 and the time and Nicky was like 18 months or smth

Germany

Right so I dont know why people dont talk about this part of his childhood because like,,,it’s interesting??

In Germany they had two maids

They had to put sugar in every food so that Peter and Nicky would actually eat the strange German food

He became very fluent in German and would help his mother with translations

He was also fluent in French for some reason

Someone made a statue of his 4 year old head and it became a famous minor art piece that featured in calendars

It probably now sits in his house because I saw in in the background of the short documentary that his son, Ivan Ivanoli made about him which you sould check btw

Anyway, when Peter was 5 he made his first official best friend Ule who was two years older than him

Once when he was playing hide and seek with Nicky he ran at full force at a closed glass door that he thought was open, shattering it, and getting a shard into his arm. Reasonably he screamed

Apparently, he was hurt a major artery and would have bled to death if not for someone being in the house to call a doctor

Once he was out and about wandering around, as you would do if you were Peter when he was stopped by some official looking guy from going back into his own house.

It’s important to note that Peter looked very much like a German boy and would ONLY talk in German outside. God knows why he did this. Reasonably, the dude thought he was lying and he had to call for his mum

Anyway, in Germany school starts when you’re five but his birthday was in the middle of the school year so his parents sent him in early which set him up for some outcasted child syndrome later

And then the moved back to America yeet

AMERICA (LAND OF CAPITALISM)

So he moved back into America but it didn’t stop there. No. They had to move around like a 100 different times and as someone who went to a total of 4 different schools (so far oh no) that sets you up with outcasted child syndrome. What also sets you up with outcasted child syndrome is if you’re an undiagnosed neurodivergent which Peter seemed to think he was when he was in his 50s (either ADHD or autism) so uhh keep that in mind

So he was in school and as mentioned earlier he was a year younger than his peers so that’s fun

He was very very clever. Often he would finish his work first and his (4th grade) teacher would make do some reading or creative writing. She encouraged him to do creative writing because she saw some talent in there

Not only was he acadmically gifted, but he was also musically gifted. Playing not only the piano (which he got lessons for) but also the guitar, the banjo, the bass, and the french horn which he got an award for when he was in highschool playing in a band made out of college students for some reason

Speaking of awards, he was once given an award for maths

This giftedness would later set him up for Gifted Child Burnout he had in college

Also he changed schools like a total of 13 times so that’s fun

He went to a private school but apparentl, according to his parents, he hated it (but he remembered liking it???)

Also, he made a lot of jokes in class

Remember Nicky? Yeah, Nicky would often write songs for him to sing and stuff (Nicky would later write songs for Peter’s solo album and a bunch of other stuff what a great brother we stan)

The family had some kind of barn once where he would do puppet shows his siblings

Anyway, school life was all fine and dandy until 5th grade hit and he changed schools and everyone lost interest in him because he was one year younger

Also his dad was apparently very disconnected with him. Needless to say, Peter felt like his father didn’t like him

Once when he was 9, he told his father that he noticed that when the clouds were around at night, it would be warmer during the day to which his father shouted at him saying that “he has no proof of that” and that he shouldn’t say anything without proof

This of course led him to feel like no one wanted to listen to what he wanted to say

poor baby

I think his father would have been the reason why Peter would later say in an interview that he hated “loud abusiveness” the most

He would also later say that a combination of his dad and feeling like he was weird and different would lead him to his drinking problem

So umm we dont stan his dad ok

Once when he was 13 he picked up a loaded shotgun and put it against his head. But he decided that he didn’t want to do it at the last second.

Overall, life from 5th grade till highschool was terrible for him

He didn’t have any friends in his school

So when he moved to a new school in Conneticut where he was surrounded with people of the same age, he was really happy all the way until college where he flunked out twice

Hippie Time (Honestly this part is just me talking about him and Stephen Stills because Steter Stirk changed me)

And so Peter became a hippie in Greenwich Village

In the Village, he became a sort of entertainer. Not just singing and playing, he was also a comedian.

And then he kept hearing about this dude who looked like him from other people.

This dude turned out to be Stephen who was also hearing the same kind of talk for about the same amount of time

Pete and Stephen VIBED im not kidding they started to play with each other and also Stephen’s room mate who was also there

Also it turns out that they liked to talk about the same things so that’s neat

Peter went to Venuzuela apparently and when he came back the Monkee thing happened yeet

Once when Stephen was waiting to move into his new house Peter was all like “hey dude live with me”

For a while they also lived in the same house when he was Monkee and if that doesn’t fuel any ship fics I dont know what will

Im serious the ship is here and its real I saw fics and fanart

Dont ask about Stirk

They played with the colour tv and would “pick apart each other’s brains” umm

Also Peter’s favourite band was buffalo springfield and we stan a friend who would say your band was their favourite band

And I think this is where my knowledge starts to fade because I haven’t really heard any cool facts from here on afterwards

Last Final Cool Facts

He was a teacher for quite a while and taught about Maths, basketball (despite not liking any sport except swimming) and Easter Philosophy,,,yes easter philosphy the man was into that kinda stuff

Also he was a big reader. Always having a smoll book in his pocket that he would read while on set with the Monkees. But he was particularly a non fic kinda guy

He would write poetry on the back of scripts

In the 2000s he said that his sister thought he might have ADD

Also autism but when asked about it he’d be all P E R H A P S

which is very unhelpful Peter pls give us a straight answer

I mean he cant give us straight answers because he was the gayest monkee (he fricked a dude once but he didn’t like it)

Hey look I ended on a gay note yeet. Thanks for reading this mess

#the monkees #peter tork #blood tw #death ment tw #suicide tw #i think that's all the tws #im finally free of this knowlege #i feel so good #just wait till i come back with a truck of knowledge in 5 months

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dragonnan · 4 years

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fanfic tag game

I was tagged by @disappearinginq- these are the absolute best fun!

Questions:

Ao3 Name: dragonnan (same as everywhere: Psychfic, FFN, etc)

Fandoms: *cracks knuckles* You want, like, ALL of them?? Welp I’m obsessively listy so here we go:

Currently writing fic for:

Sherlock

MCU

Psych

In the recent past wrote fic for (and may again as there are WIPs remaining):

SPN

HTTYD

Simon & Simon (as part of a crossover)

Lucifer

Wrote fics years ago but probably won’t write more:

Monk

Star Trek Voyager

Big O (as part of a crossover)

Wrote 1 or 2 fics but probably won’t write more:

Cowboy Bebop

Inuyasha

Lethal Weapon

Invisible Man (2001)

X Files

Quantum Leap

Fullmetal Alchemist

Haven’t published any fics yet but have (or had) ideas:

Doctor Who (specifically 10 and 11)

Burn Notice

Psych

Beauty and the Beast (1980′s series)

Moonlight

In Plain Sight

Star Wars

Haven’t had ideas but I love the fandom and may someday write fic:

Prodigal Son

Star Trek (TNG primarily)

MacGyver (1980′s)

Number of fics: Ummm.... It’s a little hard actually to parse that as some of my stories are posted as larger collections so let’s see what I can do...

Psych: 168 (give or take)

Sherlock: 8

MCU: 19

Other: 29

Total: 224

1. Fic you spent the most time on: Can I even remember anymore? I suppose Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth (Psych) which I think took me over 5 years to complete. However, I wasn’t straight writing that entire time so not certain if it specifically qualifies? Another contender is The Tiger and the Shark (Sherlock) which I posted pretty consistently and took about 2 years.

2. Fic you spent the least time on: I’m not counting those 100 word challenge fics cause, please. I think the least amount of time I spent on truly legit stories would be one of these possibilities (cause fuck if I know for sure): Wibble Wobble Wibble Wobble To and Fro (Psych), A Good Heart (Psych), Making the Cut With a Squeeze of Lemon (Psych)

3. Longest Fic: Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth (Psych) 104,522

4. Shortest Fic: Promises to the Dead (again, not counting 100 word challenge fics), This Week on Psychfic - 280 words

5. Most hits: Just Pieces; Passion, Pain, & Parody (Psych fic collection. Does that count?)

6. Most kudos: All Nighter (Psych)

7. Most comment threads/ reviews: Standing from Falling (Psych) 352 Reviews

8. Fave Fic you wrote: Ooohh screw this question! Staawwwp!!! I can’t just pick A favorite but I gueeeesss I could narrow it to a few which out of over 200 damn stories you should be grateful I can narrow it down that much (of COURSE I love my own writing - that’s why I do it!). I’ll also only include completed works: Psych - Suffer the Night, I Would Do Anything for Love; Even That, You Give Me Fever MCU - Just Another Day in New York, Did You Make it to the Milky Way to See the Lights all Faded, Simple Math Sherlock: The Tiger and the Shark, A Russian, Two Spies, and an Elephant

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: The Tiger and the Shark (expand) Fury (Psych) - rewrite

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: How about both?

Untitled Iron Dad and Spider Son fic:

It started with sand. Benign. Sorta... tan... Fucking sand and yet there he was, trembling like he'd just spent the last two hours in subzero temps wearing nothing more than a speedo and a grin.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony gulped; curling his toes before looking up at the young man across from him... who was wearing an expression that mirrored the anxiety thumping in Tony's chest. "Hey... you okay, Kid?"

Peter shrugged - his long fingers clenching and stretching. "Y-yeah. Sure! I mean..." he swallowed, "not like anything bad happens at the beach, right?"

Tony tapped his teeth around his lower lip. "It's just sand..." Not like sand ever hurt anyone...

Why were they there again? Oh right; facing demons. Because that shit never backfired.

The ocean was calm that afternoon. Behind them the sounds of the pier carried with shrill laughter and the cacophony of vendors, shrieking children, and seagulls. Lots of seagulls - drawn to the scent of funnel cakes and french fries dominating the blend of scents that normally drew Tony, as well, but currently just twisted the pool of nausea threatening his pride.

Peter drew his focus back with a sharply drawn breath. Then another. Wind flicked the curls that had been pasted to his forehead with sweat. Tony pushing his feet through the hot sand - too hot - a decade later and he still couldn't stand the feel of hot grains... until he stood alongside the kid. Not looking away from the reflection of sunlight on water he nudged his elbow against Peter's arm. "Not so bad during the day, yeah?"

Peter blinked rapidly - making something like a smile. "No, yeah... way better." he nodded - looking about as convinced as Pepper would be at the prospect of birthing octuplets.

Tony pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. The most expensive shades on the planet and he still hadn't managed to stop them slipping down when he sweated. He cupped his left elbow in his right hand and watched the para-sailors and jet skiis and swimmers splashing in the low waves. No surfers; not that day.

He wouldn't have been there if not for Pete. Kid's idea. Apparently therapy was the new heroin. Better come down, he supposed. Even at that he'd tried for distraction, first. Tony was nothing if not the Grand Master of distractibility. Offered everything from a road trip along the East Coast to helping the kid build a personal bot (who was he kidding, he planned both as a graduation present). And, yet, here there were. Revisiting trauma because what better way to spend a Saturday?

Story Idea - Doctor Who/ Doctor Strange crossover:

Plot: Stephen encounters a woman in a parallel world – a world protected, not by a Sorcerer Supreme, but by a man known only as “The Doctor”. He soon finds out that this Doctor is unique among the worlds he's explored. For all he has seen - all the beings he’s encountered, he has never met a woman with such energy coiled within the depth of her brain as the ordinary, redheaded woman he bumps into walking through a parallel London. In fact, so powerful are the forces within her that he is immediately struck with a chaos of discordant images – of giant wasps and singing squid-like beings and screeching salt shakers and before he can even begin to understand it a face – eyes furious and dark – glaring from a raging fire. “GET OUT! THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING! GET OUT, NOW, WHILE YOU STILL HAVE A CHANCE!”

Stephen figures out that Donna is slowly being consumed by the Time Lord energies locked inside her. The Doctor may have barred her memory but it still seeps through – with each exposure weakening the walls even more. Eventually, it will consume her.

This is not something he can fix alone, however. He will need to track down the man who first created those mental blocks and left Donna behind to slowly go insane. The Doctor.

Tagged: @sgam76 @silentsaebyeok @kitcat992 @mizjoely @villaniouslyawesome @itsjustdg @hanuko @jennberry1984

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debbiechanclub · 5 years

Text

The Ocean In Between

Characters: Adam Cole x OFC x Zack Gibson

Summary: Madeline McGregor’s been given a second shot at the top in the form of NXT UK, and she’s more than willing to grab the brass ring. But it’s more than gold that motivates her to set her sights across the ocean; so long as she can keep from looking back.

Note: I’m not expecting there to be nearly as much interest in this as there is Paradigm Shift, but I wrote it so I’m posting it. Prove me wrong, Tumblr!

Tagging: @dagreatest316 @blondekel77 @pinkxlips @gamer705

Part 1/?

Chapter One: I Have News

Sunday, June 1, 2019 NXT TakeOver: XXV – Bridgeport, Connecticut

As she stared across the table at Triple H, Maddie felt—as Candice would say—like a duck: calm, cool, and collected to the outside world, but frantically treading water just beneath the surface. After all, this meeting would go one of two ways; and if she had to guess, she’d say her chances were 50/50 as to whether she was about to get good news or the worst news of her life.

“Alright, Maddie,” he leaned forward on his forearms, cutting an imposing figure. His expression was entirely unreadable. “First I want to say thank you for coming up here to meet with me. I know you’re not on the card tonight, so I appreciate your flying up from Florida.”

Maddie swallowed a lump in her throat. That didn’t seem like a good start to the conversation, but she forced a smile. “Oh, it’s no problem. I was planning on coming, anyway; there’s no way I’d miss a TakeOver, let alone one this big.”

Hunter sent her a stiff grin of his own. “I know you wouldn’t. You’ve been dedicated since day one; that’s something that’s always stood out to me about you. You never complain, you always show up and put in the work no matter the situation.”

Maddie’s heart hammered so thunderously that it almost drowned out the compliment. “Thank you. It means a lot that you think that of me.”

“You’re welcome. And that sort of segues into what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She sat up straighter, wringing clammy hands in her lap. This was it. Her entire future hung upon whatever the next words would be to come out of his mouth.

His tone was even and steady as he spoke. “I know things haven’t gone how you expected or hoped they would over the last year. Unfortunately, there’s only so much opportunity to go around, and you’ve gotten lost in the shuffle here.”

Blood rushed to her head and she went momentarily dizzy. He was going to release her. This was the end of the road, her last night in NXT, in WWE—

“Which is why I want to see how you do over in NXT UK.”

Suddenly, the world stopped. “I’m sorry what?” she blurted. NXT UK? Had she heard him correctly?

He let out an amused laugh at her utter bewilderment. “Is that something you’d be open to?”

“Yes, absolutely!” Maddie proclaimed. Her heart was still pounding, but it was a different sensation now. “That’s just not—I’m really surprised.”

“I get it,” he sympathetically returned. “But this is actually something I’ve been considering for a few weeks. You made a name for yourself over in Britain working for Progress and Pro Wrestling: EVE. They know you there, they like you there, and, at least right now, I really think there’s greater opportunity for you on the NXT UK roster than there is down in Florida.”

Maddie couldn’t agree more. “When do I start?”

“Well, the next round of UK tapings will be at Download Festival. In two weeks.”

“Then I’ll be at Download Festival in two weeks.”

Hunter genially knocked his knuckles against the tabletop. “That’s what I like to hear. In the meantime, all I need you to do is be ready to go. I’m still ironing out the creative details, but I should have more to tell you in about a week.”

For the first time since sitting down, Maddie gave a genuine smile. “That works for me.”

“Great,” Hunter nodded. “Well, that’s all I had for you, Maddie. Get outta here, go enjoy the show.”

“I will. Thank you so much, Hunter.” She shook his hand and nearly bounced out of the room, feeling a million times lighter than when she’d entered. For the first time in a long time, it felt like something good was on the horizon; and for the boss himself to recognize her dedication and talent made all the difference.

She had to share the good news. It was just past 5 o’clock, so that meant it was just past 10 o’clock in England. They should all still be up, she thought as she whipped out her phone and composed a group text to her closest friends on the UK brand: Toni Storm, Pete Dunne, Tyler Bate, Trent Seven, and Mark Andrews.

Guys!! I have news! Trips just spoke with me and he’s putting me on NXT UK!!

Pete was the first to reply. But you’re a yank.

“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes at the curt, typical Pete-ness of his response; but before she could fire off a snappy retort Toni chimed in.

PETE! Shut it. That’s fantastic Mads! I’ve been wanting a new opponent to defend my title against ;)

Brilliant, Trent added. Don’t listen to Pete, he’s got his cranky dad pants on.

Fuck off mate, Pete returned. To which Trent simply said:

See.

Maddie laughed to herself as her fingers flew over the keyboard. Wow, I can already tell this’ll be a barrel of fun.

Mark checked in next. Mads! This is fantastic news. Will you be at Download?

Yes! she texted back. They’re still working out the details but he said they should have it all figured out by then. Dozens of possibilities flew through Maddie’s head as she hit send, each one better than the last. She hadn’t wrestled Rhea since the inaugural Mae Young Classic, and she’d love to have a re-match; and, of course, she’d want to set her sights on the NXT UK Women’s Championship as soon as possible, whether Toni had it or not. After nearly two years, she’d had yet to taste gold in NXT, and her hunger was growing unbearable. To win that championship would prove that none of the blood, sweat, and tears she’d put into this business had been in vain. It would prove that she belonged.

Her phone vibrated in her hands. Tyler had finally responded. Congrats Mads. Toni needs someone to come over here and knock her down a peg.

Maddie’s eyebrows arched when she read that. She was not about to insert herself between Tyler and Toni—and Trent apparently felt the same.

And that’s my cue to exit, he said.

A text came in from Toni next. I’ll just pretend you didn’t say that, she returned, and Maddie prayed Tyler would just keep his big mouth shut. Thankfully, when nothing else was said, it seemed he knew he was better off just staying quiet.

ANYWAY, Mark interjected. I’m so excited for you and I can’t wait to see you at Download!

Thank you!! Maddie typed back. Alright, I’m gonna go since it’s TakeOver and all. See you in two weeks!

She smiled down at her phone, thrilled that her friends seemed just as happy as her—and then she remembered. “I have to tell Candice!”

She hurried back down the hall toward the direction of the women’s locker room, cut hard around a corner, and slammed right into a solid body. She stumbled backward from the impact, dazed, and two hands grabbed hold of her shoulders to steady her. When she regained her bearings and focused in on who was in front of her, she realized it was the last person she wanted to see tonight: Austin Jenkins; or, as he was known to the world, Adam Cole.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” A bemused smile crinkled the skin around his blue eyes, but Maddie didn’t return it.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you. “ She shrugged out of his grip and tried to step around him, but he moved with her, blocking her way.

“Wait. I’m glad I ran into you, literally. I have news.”

He was practically bouncing on his toes. As much as she didn’t want to give him the time of day, Maddie didn’t have the heart to rob him of the excitement of sharing his news, whatever it was. She was in the same boat. “Well?” she asked expectantly. “What is it?”

He couldn’t stop smiling if he tried. “I’m winning the NXT Championship tonight.”

For a second, Maddie just stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure what to do, what to say. She’d known this day would come—everyone did—but it was different now. Before, she’d always imagined him winning the title with her there by his side, greeting him with a kiss as he returned through the Gorilla curtain, sweaty and exhausted and ecstatic. But now it felt impersonal; like someone else living out a dream that had once been hers. “Congrats,” she managed say. “You’ll make a great champ.”

His grin faltered for the first time. “You seem surprised.”

“Well, I am,” she blurted. “I mean, not that you’re winning, but that you’re telling me.”

He looked confused at that. “Of course I’m telling you. There’s no one else I’ve talked with about this more than you.”

Maddie felt bile coming up from her stomach in the form of words, nasty and foul, but before she could spit out what her heart wanted her to say she forced her brain to take over. “I have news too.”

Austin’s face went stoic, and the mood suddenly shifted. He must have heard about her meeting with Triple H—Candice probably told him—and now he was clearly uncomfortable, uncertain if her news was good news, if he’d inadvertently rubbed his happiness in her misery. “Yeah, Candice told me about your meeting,” he cautioned. “How’d it go?”

She kept up her poker face; kept her tone even. “Good. They’re putting me on NXT UK.”

“What?” His obvious shock spewed out of his mouth, and he had to reel it back in. “I mean, that’s cool. I know you like wrestling over there. You’re not gonna have to move there, are you?”

What do you care? she thought, but she kept the question to herself and shook her head. “No. They film just like we do. I’ll still be here—well, in Florida. At the PC.”

He nodded like that information mattered to him. Like he would notice if she was on the other side of ocean. But Maddie knew he wouldn’t. He had someone else to warm his bed. “Well, congrats,” he said, and then they were left with nothing but the awkward silence between them.

She shifted to step around him again. He didn’t stop her this time. “Well, I’m gonna go tell Candice. Good luck tonight; although I guess you don’t need it.”

“Oh no, I probably still do,” he joked.

Maddie sent him an artificial smile, and then she was on her way again to the women’s locker room; to Candice and their friends; to people who really would be happy for her and not just superficially so. But just before she got to the locker room door she slowed to stop, wondering. She looked at her phone again, pulled up his name, debated sending him a text. But no sooner had the thought arrived than she dismissed it. She hadn’t heard from him in weeks; hadn’t seen him since WrestleMania. He probably wouldn’t care anymore than Austin had, and she didn’t want another lukewarm response.

#adam cole #adam cole imagine #adam cole fanfiction #zack gibson #zack gibson imagine #zack gibson fanfiction #nxt #nxt uk #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #pete dunne #tyler bate #trent seven #british strong style #toni storm #mark andrews

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thotteus-beaumont · 5 years

Text

Lover’s Cross

Summary: "Cause now it seems that you wanted a martyr...Just a regular guy wouldn't do. But baby I can't hang upon no lover's cross for you” ~ Jim Croce. Pete Moore & Henry Devlin are both absolutely sure they have nowhere left to go but down...

Ship: Henry/Pete & background Jonesy/Beaver

Words: 6,398

His father had once told a much younger version of Pete that ignorance was bliss. And when he’d asked him what ‘ignorant’ meant, he just smiled and handed him his orange juice. And as he usually did, Pete did not press the subject any further. Instead he’d sipped on his juice.

Pete had been feeling nostalgic lately. And not in the good way--no, this made him feel sick. His throat would close up and it would be impossible for him to catch his breath. He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut for a second or two as he continued walking up and down the kitchen area in his apartment. He pressed his thumb against the side of his nose. He was getting that feeling you get when you drink too much soda and the fizz sort of creeps uncomfortably at your nose, giving you a weird half-headache. Just a tiny echo of the usual hang-over he’d wake up with.

This Tuesday morning there was no real hang-over...just the phantom memory of one that his brain put on because the feeling of waking up without one was just too uncomfortable.

He shot Jonathan down at least a good 4 times before the man had somehow wormed his way into Pete’s affectionate heart. Coming up on a year in just a few short days and Jonathan was standing in their apartment and calling-in sick to excuse them from a nice Holiday work party at his office.

Pete scraped his thumbnail down his lip and thought about how the speed-limit for the busy street near them had gone down some but the yellow car he spotted through the large window didn’t seem to care.

“Done is done.” Jonathan flung the home-phone onto the couch and looked up with an expectant face.

“Do you want a ‘thanks’? I didn’t ask you to do that-” Pete went on the defensive but that only seemed to piss his boyfriend off.

“But I had to do it. Ain’t worth a shit if you say thanks or not, Pete. Tender is the night, babe and I can’t have you inebriated in front of my co-workers again and turning that mood into...that." He vaguely gestured to Pete with an exhausted sense of familiarity.

“I was barely drunk, John. No one noticed-”

“Janine asked me if you were in A.A., Pete!” Jonathan sighed with restrained irritation. Pete fell silent and turned away from the conversation. “Look, I know that you’re trying...I know that-”

Pete pursed his lips together. “For your sake. I don’t personally think it’s a problem, John. You want me to drink a little less, yeah-I can do that, no problem. But swearing it off entirely just because your secretary thinks two beers is A.A. worthy?”

Jonathan groaned and leaned against the small counter. “You had more than two and you Goddamn know that so I won’t pick on that comment.” He rolled his eyes and ignored Pete’s returned gesture. “Do you really want me to be doing this for you for ever?”

Pete turned on his heels and cocked his head to the side.

“Meaning, having to pick you up from parties you can’t drive yourself home from, take care of you because you won’t do it yourself? Goddamn defend your actions to my concerned co-workers?” Jonathan waved his arms about and shook his head. “For every night you spent sober and laughing with me, there were at least six nights spent with me worrying about whether or not I’ll have to keep turning you on your side so you don’t choke on your vomit!”

Pete blinked away some stress tears, a habit he seemed to have picked up from ol’ Jonesy, who was bound to flow some out whenever he got too passionate. It could be a stream just as strong as Beaver’s road-side pisses. “If I make you so miserable, than yeah I’d rather you leave.”

John let out one of those incredibly frustrated groans again. “Pete, I’m not accusing you of trying to make my life hell-”

“But it’s exactly what you’re saying-” Pete stepped forward and made eye contact with his boyfriend, who looked to be at some sort of tipping point.

“Not it’s fucking not!” John had somehow managed to take the few steps needed to being face-to-face with Pete. “I just want you to get better.”

Pete shook his head. “Won’t be hard considering, I’m fine. I don’t have a problem.”

John shocked them both by raising his hand and slapping Pete across the face. The sound was a loud and horrible smack of hot skin.

Pete recovered instantly yet slowly at the same time. He raised his face again and made dreaded eye contact. “Get out.”

John stepped back and swallowed. “I’m so fucking sorry, Pete. I just-...You’re right. I should go.” he seemed to give up on this justification and started walking around their apartment. With Pete’s watchful and conflicted eyes following his every move.

He packed himself an over-night bag and stopped just as soon as he hit the kitchen. “Listen Pete, I love you. I just want you to be healthy but I won’t fight for this love if you won’t at least...meet me in the middle.”

Pete pursed his lips and shrugged. John soaked that ‘answer’ in and lifted his bag from the table. “Ok, well...I’m gonna stay over at a friends. Give you some space.”

Pete still didn’t speak and watched the guy shut the door behind him. “Fuck.” was all he muttered as he glided his way towards the phone sitting on the coffee-table. He dialed quickly and tapped his fingers against his side.

“Hello-”

“Beaver, can you come over, buddy?” Pete tried not to let the anxiety bleed into his voice but the Beav was always unusually great at knowing how all his friends felt by just like 3-words.

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

Beaver Clarendon, 5′6 and with a bead of sweat dripping down his temple against that long hippie-hair, stepped inside with happy determination. There was a jar of fresh peanut-butter in his hand and the mission for him now was to find two clean spoons.

Pete felt mounds of stress leave his body just from seeing his pal. He solemnly followed the man and took a seat at the counter to wait.

“My Spidey-Sense was correct, Pete.” Beaver wiggled one of the spoons and pulled up a stool across from Pete, even though Pete knew those kinds of chairs bothered him. Beav continually slouched in life but a little back support helped a little. Pete lifted a brow and opened the jar. “I told Jonesy that we would need to buy an extra jar.” He smiled with pride.

Pete chuckled and broke the perfect top of the butter with his spoon and ate a full on glob. “I think I fucked up something great, Beav.” He swallowed, with struggle, and bite into his cheek. “Even when I think things are gonna be ok--hell, maybe good--some part of me has to lose anyway.”

Beaver frowned and opened his mouth.

“Jonathan left. Say’s he’s concerned about me but he got all kinds of frustrated with me and slapped me across the goddamn face. A total fuckarow.” He shook his head.

Beaver rolled his lips and looked as if he wasn’t sure how to bring up what he wanted to say. “Did a specific incident cause his ‘string-to-break’?”

Pete would’ve been a little offended if this had been maybe Jonesy or Henry-- and even so not much with them either--but the Beav was gentle. “If you’re asking if I got drunk and did something stupid, answer’s no.”

Beaver nodded.

“The answer is I got drunk and did several stupid things throughout the entire relationship, if you ask John.” Pete scoffed and licked the spoon as Beaver went in for a large scoop.

“And if I ask Pete Moore?” Beaver gave a gentle smirk.

“He’s overreacting.” Pete frowned.

Beaver hummed and took the liberty of feeding Pete a larger spoonful of the peanut-butter with his own utensil, which Pete knew was his way of preparing him for hard words. He didn’t mind so much if they came from the Beav so Pete cleaned the spoon and watched him settle it back down on the counter.

“He shouldn’t have slapped you. I hate that shit.” He shook his head, straying black hairs flew about him. “But...-” Beaver looked up with wide eyes which said ‘Please, don’t make me say it.’

Pete rolled his shoulders back.

“I can be frank, Pete, if that’s what this calls for. I don’t want to be but--Hell, I’ll be goddamn Elmo from the Muppets and give you a reason why you should stop drinking starting with each letter of the alphabet, if I thought it would help-”

“Elmo was from Sesame Street.” Pete took another dip into the jar.

“Same thing.” Beaver chuckled and rolled his eyes. “A is for-”

“A.A.?” Pete scowled and Beaver felt a burning in his stomach.

“I was going to say, A is for Apple Juice comes in a cuter package but...” Beaver stuck his tongue out and enjoyed Pete’s little grin. “I say we invite the gang over for dinner? I can whip something up with whatever you got here.” Beaver hopped off the stool and began going through the cabinets.

“Beer?” Pete made the snide and self-deprecating joke and Beaver hummed.

“Take that attitude and use it to chop up this Onion, please.” He tossed the vegetable and almost nailed Pete in the eye.

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

The night was a trying one for Rhonda. The home was practically dead apart from the terribly busy sounding quick taps of a keyboard in the other room. And though it was a soft sound, it didn’t stop it from slowly driving her insane. Her stomach turned from the mixture of anger and nerves that were boiling inside her.

So instead of slamming her head into her palms and letting out the emotions, she composed herself. She sat straight and tall, threading her slim fingers together. She copycatted those relaxing breaths Henry had once taught her.

Rhonda rarely treated herself, as Henry tried to tell her many times. Though he was never quite able to put it so lovingly. Where she was soft, he could be so blunt. And it went both ways. However tonight while her anxiety was running it’s high fever, she decided to pour a glass of wine for herself and Henry, whenever he decided to come into the room. As it poured, she tapped her nails in a small beat on the counter.

Just as the last drop splashed in the glass, she heard the door to their office close gently. She hated the way it made her grin with pride. Like just getting out of that room should be applauded. That sound was tragically one of her favorites. It either meant that Henry was giving himself a break from throwing himself into his work or he was feeling joyful enough for husband-wife activities. Either way, she’d be met with him again and instead of pondering why they were even still together. But soon, she wouldn’t have to do that anymore...

“Did you sign the divorce papers?” She tipped her chin and frowned at Henry, who looked exhausted.

He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “I will, I promise. I just-”

“It’s just a signature, Henry.” She didn’t want to push him, even still after their bickering, but she felt strongly that things would be better once it was done. “Did we not come up with this decision together?”

Henry swallowed. “We did, Rhonda. I know that and I will get to it.” He urged her with genuine eyes, she softened.

“Bridges burn when people joined by them have changed, Henry. You told me that and now it’s about us.” Rhonda felt her stomach roll. “I want to burn this bridge. Go back to a relationship where I don’t feel like your martyr. Friends.”

Henry nodded. “So do I, Ronnie. Believe me. I never met for this...-look, It’s just hard to accept that I couldn’t make this marriage work.”

Rhonda looked up at him with curious eyes and asked a question which had been plaguing her mind for several months now. “Is it my fault that your depressed? It seems like our relationship-”

Henry didn’t let her finish. “Don’t do that to yourself, Ron. It ain’t you. It’s me.-”

“You never seemed to want to be close enough with me.”

“Not just you, Ronnie. I just don’t think I’m wired that way, that’s what the ol’ Doc says anyway.” Henry tapped his own temple and she rolled her eyes.

“You can’t just consult yourself, Henry. I’ll say that for the last time.” She sipped her glass of wine. “It’s just...watching you fade inside yourself these past months has been painful for me too. Seeing yourself pull-out of it for your friends but not me-”

“Rhonda, it ain’t like I just up and cure myself for them. That’s not how it works-”

“No they cure you, for the while you’re with them. It’s not something I could ever do, huh? Lift the darkness for a little bit.” She shrugged and blinked down at the counter. Henry didn’t say anything else. “By the way, Beaver called. He wants you to come over to Pete’s for dinner. Says it’s an emergency.” She cocked her head towards the answering machine.

Henry felt so horribly guilty, knowing he’d be leaving for them instead staying for Rhonda. He couldn’t help it.

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

Beaver had been able to brief Jonesy on the situation, considering he picked up with the home-phone they shared. But Henry hadn’t answered so he just gave Rhonda vague details and hoped to catch him right at the door to speed him through Pete’s day.

The thing about them was, well the five of them--Douglas, Pete, Beaver, Jonesy & Henry--were the closest best friends in the world.

Jonesy and Beaver had hooked up around high-school, maybe early Junior year? And been a couple ever since.

Henry and Pete...they’d been entertaining to watch. Sure, they started hooking up a bit before the other two but they had just never said anything about it so it’d been shocking to find out. It was kind of a strange off-and-on thing. Then they’d sort of became a legit couple for a good while only to break up around the beginning of Henry’s first college year. But there was never any bitterness carried between them. They were still best friends.

And so Henry married Rhonda and Pete had fling after fling until he landed on that Jonathan fellow.

“He slapped him?” Henry whisper-yelled to Beav as he took off his jacket by the front-door. Jonesy and Pete were joyfully bickering about some horror movie that Jonesy was trying to beg him to watch. Henry peeked over Beaver’s head. “I gotta talk to him about this-”

“Hey I didn’t stick the dime in ya so that you could throw Pete a ride. I just told you so that you would know enough to make the night better. Without directly talking about it just yet.” Beaver waved his hands around.

Henry rolled his eyes but suddenly surged forward and stuck his hand into Beaver’s jacket pocked to produce a physical and literal dime. “Hey!”

Henry smirked. “Too late, Beav. Dime’s already in the slot and the ride is coming. But I’ll wait, ok? You can’t ask me not to talk to him about this. We’re all going to have to at some point.” Henry frowned and Beaver nodded with understanding eyes.

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

“Get off!”

Jonesy shrieked as he wrestled Beaver who’d just pulled his finger from his mouth and was ready to stick it into Jonesy’s ear. Only, when they heard Pete coming back from the kitchen, they paused.

Jonesy took the chance to kick Beaver off, knocking the tiny man over the back of the couch and onto the floor. “Bitch-in-a-buzzsaw!” He whined.

Pete chuckled and plopped down teasingly onto Henry’s lap in the arm-chair he liked so much. It wasn’t an uncommon thing at all for any of the four of them to be affectionate like that with each other.

But Beaver knew it would only make Henry want to speak about the situation again. Henry was far too soft on Pete and for him, that meant he wanted to bluntly offer help.

“So, you think Jonathan is coming back...tomorrow?” Henry asked, gently. The room suddenly filled with tension as Beaver still laid flat against the floor on his back.

Pete frowned and wiggled a little in Henry’s lap. “Probably. What he’s going to do, I don’t know. Part of me thinks the break-up is inevitable but...man, I don’t know that I could afford this place without him.” He chuckled, like it was funny but no one else joined in. “Tough crowd. Look guys, I’ll be fine.” Pete shoved himself off of Henry and stood. “I don’t need the pity.”

Jonesy gave him a look of genuine love. “It’s not pity, Pete. We just love you-”

“And think I’m a drunk, yeah.” Pete laughed bitterly and went to lean against the kitchen counter.

Henry desperately wanted to come back at Pete with how they just wanted to help him but he figured it would only serve to piss him off. There’d have to be a way to ease him into the ‘help’ discussion.

“Hey, if worse comes to worst, I could move in with you and help out.” Henry copied the laughter and felt the concern turn on him; exactly what an exhausted Pete needed. “Divorce papers gonna be signed soon-” He selectively explained without mentioning he was the one stalling it. “File that in the ‘pity’ section of your memory warehouse.” He tipped his chin to Jonesy as he stood as well.

Pete frowned deeply and felt a rush of relief that surely made him feel guilty.

“How’s Rhonda feeling about everything?” Jonesy sat up straighter and Beaver finally picked himself up off the ground. He placed his ass right on the edge of the couch’s top, near where Jonesy’s head was.

Henry shrugged.

“How are you feeling?” Beaver adds, scooting over slightly so Jonesy could lean his head against his lower-back...grossly adorable.

Henry bit into his cheek and reminded himself that he’d asked for this turn of attention. He thought about the newly-noticed feeling of walking the floors of his home as if it were just some small town he was passing through on a longer journey. “I’m fine. Managing everything.” was the answer he decided to go with.

It did not impress any of them.

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

A small glass of perfume sat on a dresser. It was the small and delicate glass with a large daisy stopper blocking any leakage.

It sat there, absolutely still, as a pair of hands quickly picked and pulled from the array of products sat around it. But with that speed came clumsiness and the hands just darted to fast on the pull-back of his watch and down came the bottle. Knocking it off the counter and revealing the ring of dust that had been living underneath it.

Henry paused for a moment before peeking over the lip of the dresser to find the tiny bottle. The rounded broken piece was rolling just the slightest bit while the rest of the tiny shards bathed in the small puddle of the scent leaking out.

Henry had given that perfume to Rhonda as a small Valentine’s Day gift about a year ago. Kneeling down, he intended to start cleaning the mess up but he hesitated. The tip of his finger laid frozen in the burgundy puddle as a wave of emotion fell upon him. He’d been holding back on truly coming to terms with what his mind and body ached for. But looking at the old shattered gift on their hardwood floor...the gate was opened without his permission.

A flood of tears finally broke past his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, the heat from her previous restrain could almost burn his skin. He thought about the time one of his ‘work friends’ said he couldn’t imagine Henry ever crying, he seemed far too straight-headed for it. Henry didn’t really know what that meant.

But in this instant he was near hysterical. His breathing was rapid and short as it became harder for him to push-back the devastation. More then anything in his life he wanted to call Pete, Beav or Jonesy...Douglas would always be able to make him smile. He wanted to hear their voices. But at the same time he was desperate to shove them away from this side of himself entirely.

The palm of his hand curled over his mouth in an attempt to block some of the sound from breaching the thin walls of their home. He did not want Rhonda to her any bit of this breakdown, she didn’t need to see him so...sad. It would just be too hard for them and she didn’t need anymore stress so Henry just needed to be strong, he was usually extremely good at that. It was enough that he’d been allowing this to burn his insides. There’d be nothing more now.

A deep breath or two and he was off the floor and on his way to collect the dust-pan and broom.

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

“What are you doing?” Pete squinted as he walked briskly to the front of his apartment building where Jonathan was sat, hands shoved in his pockets. He’d been gone for a good week.

“I wanted to see you and....-” He pointed his thumb at the door behind him. “I’m locked out of the building.”

Pete rolled his eyes and got his own key from his pocket as John stood and followed behind him. “Where’s your key? You should still have it....where did you end up staying by the way?”

The man behind him went quiet again in that eerie way could really freak Pete out sometimes. “Forgot it here. And I um...-I went to Marty’s.”

Pete nodded and worked on getting inside the building and strolling on up to the apartment that should still be referred to as theirs.

“I thought maybe enough time had passed for us to try talking again.” John swallowed nervously and allowed Pete to escort him inside their place. “I actually tried coming by last night but you weren’t here so I went to that place-umm...Sully’s.”

He shrugged like it was no big deal but he knew for certain that it was an explosion waiting to happen. Pete looked at him with fury as they got to his door.

“You went to the bar to look for me?” He glared and it felt as if his stomach was suddenly tied in a huge knot.

“You can’t blame me!” He went straight into defense and followed the man further into the lonesome apartment. The air grew with tension as his partner chose not to speak and instead went about the place doing small clean-ups. This only made John feel even more angry. “You honestly can’t blame me.”

“I’m not some sorry man that you need to look out for, John.” He suddenly turned from his position at the sink. “I don’t go out drinking just because we had a fight. You make me sound like such a...-loser. Do you realize how belittling it is that you consistently treat me like that?” He threw down a dish-towel and swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I’m just stressed so I worry. Give me a break.” John ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the couch, hoping that the fight would ease up.

“This is just not a good time for us, John.”

John opened and closed his mouth, deciding to just tilt his head back and sigh. “I don’t think it’s a good time for you.”

Pete scowled at that comment and looked freshly betrayed yet again.

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

Jonesy was in the midst of the most vivid dream he’d had since he was fifteen, when two or three wet-dreams about Beaver had ushered him into manhood and repressed homosexuality.

But this was the most horrible dream he’d ever experienced. Nothing came close to the sickening feeling it brought.

A deep sense of hot-dread ran through the stained-glass universe and burned Jonesy to his sheets. He was aware of that fact. He was dreaming but he couldn’t quite escape it. It felt thin but thick enough to pull his consciousness back into it every-time the need to wake felt strong.

He could still feel those silky sheets that he shared with Beaver against the sweat on his back but he could also see a hallway filled with pictures in front of him. Something in his mind knew that he was home...enough so that those sheets sticking to his back started to feel like the dream.

He shuffled across the hard-wood in knitted socks and didn’t make it very far before he suddenly appeared in the office. His office? Henry’s offfice.

The Jonesy that still laid in bed with the Beav twitched in his sleep as the Jonesy standing in Henry’s body shook himself. He was just standing in him? A looker. One that Henry apparently couldn’t feel.

He could smell the ink and coffee coated cups lingering around the place. There was a drawer cracked open, a lock that would usually keep it closed was on the desk, and inside was a shot-gun. Not used, barely touched, just laying there against some forgotten patient notes...deadly ironic, Jonesy thought.

Jenry; Jonesy could chuckle at thinking of this being as such a name but something devastated his body and mind too quickly.

He was being dragged along a potential suicide attempt.

It was horrifying and inescapable. His bed was so near yet so far off in another world. He didn’t want to go back to it though. He couldn’t rest a wink if he thought this was real.

Some part of his brain screamed out ‘Dial 1-800-HENRY’ but nothing came to be...

He woke up in an instant, hand coked in a gun-shape against his temple--He screamed and sat up, looking next to him to see Beaver with the same gesture to his temple.

Jonesy shoved him, hard. Beaver nearly fell off the bed and screamed for himself. “Fuck me Freddy! You almost gave me a heart-attack.”

“Did you have that dream?” Jonesy wasted no time but Beaver just looked clueless as ever.

“What dream!?”

Jonesy sighed, skin still burning and wet. He felt another rush of devastation and was haunted by the image of him & Beaver; asleep, side by side, with matching fake ‘hand’-guns to their temples. “Get up.”

Henry answered the door in his boxers and a long sweatshirt that was most definitely a last minute addition before answering the door. He was dazed but awake. That was enough to chill Jonesy.

While he took in the fact that his best friend was in fact, ok and alive, Beaver rushed to Henry’s phone and called up Pete.

“Is Rhonda here?” Jonesy choked out some words finally and pushed himself inside fully, trailing after a confused Henry.

“No. She’s staying with a friend.” Henry shrugged and padded about the hardwood with his arms crossed. “What’s with the late-night visit?” He asked, casually.

Part of Jonesy now felt stupid. Maybe the dream really had just been a...dream. And he was being completely ridiculous by coming over. His brain was waking up with the white-noise of TV static.

Beaver approached from their side and wiggled in his pajama pants. “Yeah. What’s going on, Jonesy?”

He waited until Pete came about to fully explain the situation at hand, carefully choosing his words as to try not to freak anybody out or...embarrass Henry.

The man tipped his chin down and sighed as if he were far beyond the year in life he currently was. He scratched the back of his neck and tried to ignore the concerned and painful looks from his friends. “Look...”

That one word was confirmation enough. The three of them sank into their seats and each felt a horrid wave of deep pain.

“I’ve fallen into this...-intense depression.” He tried to calmly explain the one thing he had never planned on telling them. “Don’t ask me exactly when it started, I’m not sure but...I was always ok at taking it day-by-day, y’know?” He rolled his lips together and felt his brain go on and on; ‘What’s wrong with me, Doc?’

“This whole thing with Rhonda has...well it’s not helping much.” He bitterly chuckled. “I just wanted to make it work. But it ain’t goin’ my way. Hell, sometimes I don’t want to get outta bed...”

Beaver looked positively sick to his stomach.

“But I’m better with you guys...always better.” Henry finally looked up and happened to lock eyes with Pete. There was a rush of affection for the younger man who was going through a special pain all his own.

Pete was the first to shoot over and basically fall into Henry’s lap, wrapping those long arms around his anxious body. Beaver and Jonesy followed in seconds.

They were one sad little dog-pile...

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

Jonesy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He insisted that Henry move in with Pete after the divorce papers were signed. Rhonda was going to take the home and he was on his own, which was no struggle considering the money he made, but money wasn’t the center problem.

Mental fucking health was. SSDD. A mantra....that always helped.

Jonathan was fully moved out by that point and Pete never confirmed their state but it was pretty obvious what had happened.

Douglas had called Henry’s home phone shortly after that dog-pile had ended. He brightened the room with his voice all the way from back in Derry. “Ennie!” He’d cried happily, always knowing exactly when he was needed. He’d called to check on him...Their best pal was a better man than all of them, inside-and-out...and they would always feel this way.

Henry knew it was the right thing to do, moving in with Pete. Maybe it’d give him a chance to talk about the drinking topic again...

“Remember that time, Junior Year, you got one of your flickers and we were trying to hook-up in my old car and I banged my head on the steering-wheel and then you accidentally elbowed us into reverse?” Pete asked as he set down a smaller box onto the counter...their counter.

Henry chuckled. ‘Flickers’. That had been the word they’d ended up using to describe the rare moods in-which Henry found he wanted to do something...sexual. He just wasn’t the kind of person who felt comfortable doing things like that. It was part of the reason Rhonda thought he was repulsed by her...or that she wasn’t good enough because they’d only get ‘sexy’ once every sixth months or more.

But back when he and Pete were...-not dating, they’d never referred to it like that...but...being with each-other....he understood. Pete always understood Henry in a way that no one else could.

Pete Moore never cared that Henry wasn’t interested in sex, nor dating. It had been complicated, for sure, what they’d been in those days. More than friends sometimes but never a couple.

It was just that they kinda slept with each other pretty rarely--at least once for each year in high-school--and occasionally cuddled closely or held hands in private.

Again, complicated.

“Oh yeah.” Henry chuckled. “Man, we were pretty stupid back then.”

Pete rolled his eyes. “I was. Still am. You were far from it and that still stands now.” He curled his hand around the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of beer, purely out of instinct, if Henry had to guess. He plopped down onto his couch and smiled, no teeth.

“Who’s helping who here, Pete?” Henry fell onto the spot next to him, arm on the back of the seat and one leg over the side. His eyes fell on the bottle which was still sweating in his best friends hand. Pete tried to pull away, both physically and mentally which was common in confrontations like this.

But Pete wasn’t a patient. So Henry was free to gently lean over towards the floor and scoop up the mans legs and rest them over his lap as he scooted closer. With a wave of affection, Henry adjusted them both comfortably and patted Pete’s legs.

“Before he left, John got super pissed and said I was a burden.” Pete set the bottle down but kept his longing eyes on it. “I know that’s true.”

Henry sighed, tipping his chin to the ceiling. He gathered some courage and looked back to Pete. “Maybe to him, Pete. Just the same as I became one for Rhonda.”

“That fucking sucks. You’re great at this, buddy.” Pete chuckled and looked back to his bottle on the table.

Henry slapped Pete’s leg. “But we’re not burdens to each other and we’re gonna help each other.” He gripped his leg harder now and spoke in a genuinely heart-felt tone. “And we’ve got Beaver and Jonesy for support-”

“Beav’s gonna spend all his money on peanut-butter for us sad-sacks, huh?” Pete wiggled his legs and suddenly looked extremely exhausted.

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

It took four-weeks of fighting for Henry to convince Pete to go to at least one A.A. meeting. With the promise of the compromise that Henry make an appointment with a nearby therapist.

He really hated that idea. It made his skin crawl with embarrassment. ‘Hey, Doc. Me? Oh, I’m a Psychiatrist who apparently can’t handle his own problems.’

He’d have to tough it out though because Pete Moore was doing his best to explain that he could just stop drinking on his own....actually, the explaining was more like begging. It made Henry feel a mixture of guilt and devastation that his friend seemed so desperate to avoid the help.

Henry drove him to the meeting and did his best to calm him. But it was hard when for a moment in his passenger seat, Pete was back to being fifteen. Juvenile, joyful and without a dent in his innocence yet.

Henry had to blink a few times to ease that anxiety hiccup. “Different shit today, Pete. I know.” He put the car in park once they hit the lot and rested his heavy palm on the man’s knee. “But soon enough, it’ll become the new SSDD and then I’m telling you, Pete, I promise...”

Pete looked over at him with a terrified face.

“It won’t be shit at all anymore. You won’t have to struggle to get through a day without drinking. You won’t dread the meetings...” Henry vaguely gestured to the building. “You’ll be able to grow from this.”

Pete let out a long sigh and deflated into his seat, looking towards the building with a mixture of hatred and longing. “When’s your appointment?” He tilted his head.

“Thursday. You can drive me.” Henry lightly pinched Pete’s arm.

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

{A Month Later}

“Hey, call it!” Pete flicked his thumb and flicked a coin into the sky with a bright smile on his face.

“Tails!” Beaver shouted from across the room.

“You always pick tails.” Jonesy rolled his eyes. “Heads!” He chuckled.

The gang had been called to meet at Henry & Pete’s apartment with the promise of a home-cooked meal and a good time. They were currently shoved into the living room and flipping to see which of the two were going to do the dishes.

Pete caught the coin and flipped it blindly onto the back of his palm. He glanced down at it but let several seconds pass in silence. Henry smirked to himself and tried not to beam at his friend.

“Jesus-Christ-bananas, tell us! I’m dying.” Beaver slapped his hands onto the counter.

Instead of speaking, Pete shyly slid the coin over to them.

It was red rather than silver and Jonesy & Beaver were met with no head or tail. Instead, the coin was showing a triangle which read ‘1 Month Recovery’

“They gave it to me yesterday-”

Beaver didn’t wait to hear the end, instead he hopped over the couch and into Pete’s arms. Thank god he was so tiny. Jonesy was quick to follow, just with a more gentle attitude.

When they pulled off, Henry proudly kissed Pete’s temple like it was something he did fairly often. Pete felt a rush of heat in his cheeks. “Lord, I will never drink again!” He beamed and Norman-Normal flew from his attitude as he pulled Henry in to kiss him on the lips.

The gang broke into hysterical laughter and enjoyed their great sense of pride.

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

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Pete mumbled as he served Henry his best cooked meal, a bowl of buttered noodles.

“Hmmm?” Henry looked up with soft eyes.

“I’m so proud of you for going to those appointments. We all are.” Pete sniffled and sat down across from him. “Jonesy was about the scaredest I’ve ever seen him that night of his dream. We all fucking were.”

Henry rolled his lips together and sucked in a noodle or two.

“Henry, the five of us...we need each other and if you-” Pete broke off with embarrassment.

Henry laid his hand atop his and gently rocked their grip. “I know, buddy. I know.” He felt a little choked up himself now too.

“You don’t know it all-” Pete swallowed and blinked about a hundred times to try and get rid of the tears. He laid his fork on the table, breathed deeply and held eye contact. “I love you, Henry....I’m in love with you.”

Henry sat back on his seat and smiled. “Oh Pete...” He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh, asshole.” Pete scowled but in good-nature. Both knew that if he were straight-up rejected, Pete would still try and laugh it off.

Henry leaned over the counter and caressed his cheek. Pete leaned into his hand with longing and second-guessing eyes. “It’s always been you.”

Pete let out a tiny little hiccup and smacked his own hand against the one on his cheek. “I should fucking hope so.”

#idk #is this bad?#@ olivia cause you're the only one who would read this!!#ahhhh #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher (2003)#henry devlin #pete moore #beaver clarendon #Gary Jones #henry/pete #jonesy/beaver #my fanfiction #stephen king #stephen king books

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lumosinlove · 6 years

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I have a request! So Basically it takes place when the marauders are in school, maybe around year 5 and Sirius is distancing himself from the others, even Lils cuz his boyfriend is kinda abusive and controlling and Remus finds out and asks for help from James and Pete or maybe lils.... idk I just like the concept and maybe Sirius and Remus get in a fight and “Why do you even care about me, Re?!” “Because I love you, Sirius!” And they do that cliche kiss. Thanks if you do!

So, I sort of strayed a bit from the prompt but I hope you enjoy anyway!!

Remus was sure the thought that he would gladly murder Alex Silenson without even a blink entered his head at least once a day. It didn’t matter where they were. Charms? He’d be careful not to get blood on the summoning cushions. The Great Hall? Well, he supposed some people losing their appetite was a risk he’d have to take. The dorms? He’d close Alex’s curtains and worry about the body later.

They were dark thoughts, but since Alex was the someone who got to kiss Sirius Black on a daily basis, Remus deemed them appropriate.

They had just entered Transfiguration, and McGonagall was poised primly at the front of the room, a fluffy bird in hand that made Remus feel almost positive they would each be taking home their very own fluffy feather dusters at the end of the day.

“Settle down, please, and take your seats. You’ll each find an owl has been provided for you. Please do not extract them from their cage until I say so.”

Remus felt a shoulder bump his and he looked over, finding Sirius’ bright, gray eyes, “Wha’do you reckon Minnie will do if I set our two free?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “You know Pads, people are going to stop recognizing you soon, you’re in detention so often.”

Sirius just laughed, sliding his bag off his shoulder and slouching down onto the desk bench beside Remus. Remus set his bag down more carefully, rummaging for his notebook, when a shadow fell over them.

“Sirius, what are you doing?”

Remus froze, fingers tightening around the binding of his Transfiguration book, and kept himself well bent over his bag, heart sinking.

He felt the weight of Sirius’ pause in response to his boyfriend’s question, and felt the even heavier, forced laugh that followed.

“What do you mean, Al?”

Remus straightened up then, setting his quill and ink in front of him. He felt Alex’s gaze flicker to him and returned it only briefly, flashing what he hoped was a casual smile. His shoulders, tense and nervous, were anything but casual. Alex looked back to Sirius.

“I think you missed the perfectly free seat next to me.”

Sirius set his textbook on the desk, “I just thought I might, y’know, change it up a bit.” He sent Alex another grin, but it faltered under Alex’s gaze, “I—I mean, just for today—“

“Come on.” Alex picked up Sirius’ textbook, and proceeded to stalk towards the back of the room with it.

Remus, inexplicably to himself, suddenly felt a strange sort of panic. They both watched him go for a moment, and then Sirius looked back, the light gone from his eyes.

“Pads.” But Remus didn’t know what he wanted to say. What could he say? You don’t have to go. Please stay. He’s not good he’s not good he’s not.

“I’ll catch up with you tonight.” Sirius supplied a weak smile, shouldering his bag. He dropped his voice to a whisper, just for Remus, “Kitchens for cake?”

Remus nodded, almost minutely, afraid someone might see. And he hated that, hated feeling like he was disobeying some law for wanting to be with Sirius. Alex was just a boy, and a bad one at that.

You don’t have to sit with him.

But Sirius was already gone.

Remus was glad, at least, that Alex wasn’t in their year. He was in the seventh year dorms, an entire staircase away from their sixth year ones. That also meant that Sirius was also generally a staircase away too. As he was tonight. While Remus put slippers and a sweater on to venture down to the kitchens, he looked at Sirius’ empty, unmade bed. That was the part that had been the hardest to get used to in the beginning. Surprisingly not Alex’s presence all the time, disrupting the dynamic of their group, but the lack of Sirius’ presence. He was almost never around anymore. It had gotten to the point where class was their biggest social event. Remus put his sweater over his head angrily, but the bed was still empty when he came out the other side.

He opened the dorms door, trodding lightly down the stairs and into the common room.

“Hey,” James grinned up at him from the loveseat by the fire, head in Lily’s lap, “wanna bring me back a slice?”

Lily looked up from the book she was reading, “Oh, me too?”

Remus rolled his eyes, laughing, “Well sure, but I don’t know how late it’ll be.” He nodded at James, “How was Quidditch earlier?”

James flopped his Charms textbook open on his chest, “Quid got cancelled. Something about rogue plants from the greenhouse…” He trailed off, then shrugged, “Didn’t want to get involved.”

“Huh.” Remus was only half listening, already moving towards the portrait hole, mind on being alone with Sirius, “Well, two slices of cake. Got it.”

Remus loved the castle at night. It was quiet, and he could trail his fingertips along the walls and swing around corners. He could get a good look at all the portraits without the portraits looking back. It wasn’t a long walk, just down a lot of stairs, past the Hufflepuff common room. As he eased the wooden door open, he saw only a few house elves lingering about, flashing him smiles, but no Sirius.

He got nervous for a moment, glancing around at the huge fire places and polished tables, mind automatically racing through how long he should wait before accepting that maybe Sirius wasn’t coming—

“Moons! Over here.”

Remus turned, relief flooding his system, “Oh, there you—“

Sirius winced, but whether it was from the look on Remus’ face, or the black and blue on the high of his left cheek, Remus wasn’t sure.

“Fuck.” Remus maneuvered around the tables quickly to get to Sirius, stopping directly in front of him. He reached out, unable to help himself, then stopped, fingertips inches from Sirius’ cheek, “What the hell?”

Sirius waved him off, he ducked away, instead pushing the cake towards Remus to slice up, “S’nothing.”

“Sirius.” Cool dread was starting to trickle into Remus’ veins. If this was what he thought, he thought he’d take all those stairs two at a time back up to the common room and strangle Alex in his sleep. “Sirius, what happened?”

“Nothing.” Sirius smiled up at him, shaking his head, “Nothing, Re. Fletchner got a little rough in Quidditch today, that’s all.”

And the dread wasn’t cool, it was ice, freezing over and thawing and freezing again. Remus saw James from a few moments ago, sprawled in the common room.

Quid got cancelled.

Remus didn’t realize he was still standing, inches from Sirius, until Sirius scooted his chair back, trying to play it off like he was giving Remus room to pull his own chair out.

“Should I cut the cake instead, then?”

Remus sat down slowly. He didn’t think he could even smell the cake, much less eat it right now, his stomach was in too many knots.

Alex put his hands on you. He wanted to scream, He knows everything you’ve been through and he put his hands on you.

I’d be better. This was the part of his brain he tried so hard to quiet, I’d love you so much, I already do.

Alex hit you. You’re lying for him.

“Why are you—“ Remus didn’t know why the words were stuck in his throat.

Sirius pushed right on ahead, “I’ll cut it then.” he pulled the plate towards him with a huff, picking up the knife with a white-knuckled grip.

And Remus let him. His hand was steady, despite the grip, and Remus wanted to shake him, to pull the truth out of him.

“I…” Remus swallowed, “I was just going to say. Why are you always so reckless in practice?” His voice shook against the force of the lie, “You know how James will mother you.”

“You know how James gets in practice. Crazy lad.” And just like that, any sign of Sirius breaking, any sign of the mask cracking, was gone, spello-taped back together, and he was smiling, pushing a generous slice of chocolate towards Remus.

And Remus smiled back, almost feeling relief, because it was never like this anymore. There was always someone else around. He wanted to push, wanted to get Sirius to tell him what really happened, but at the same time he wanted to believe that it hadn’t happened. Because it was never like this anymore. Always a boyfriend, or a class to be getting back to. He hated it. He hated it, and he loved this. This, these quiet moments.

“Right.” Remus picked up his fork, “Right, yeah, I do.”

He felt Sirius’ eyes on him as he took a bite, but when he looked up they had flitted away.

“Anyway,” Sirius was saying, “it isn’t as bad as it looks. He wasn’t even going for my face he was just…” Remus watched Sirius’ expression get a little foggy, eyes far away, back in the moment of the hit, whomever’s hand it had been, “into the game I guess.” Sirius blinked, looking down and stabbing at his cake, “Happens to all of us, right?”

No. Remus thought. No, it doesn’t.

Remus barely jerked as his copy of the daily prophet was pulled from his hands. Alex grinned at him, food in his mouth.

“Mind if I have a look?’

Remus looked at him deadly, flicking away the small corner of newsprint that had ripped in his fingers, and picked up his fork, “Didn’t give me much of a choice.”

Alex laughed, and flatted the paper next to his eggs and sausage. He barely raised his head as he pushed his glass towards Sirius, “Poor me some pumpkin juice?”

Remus stabbed his fork into his eggs and looked determinedly downward. He didn’t want to watch Sirius get pushed around.

He heard Sirius’ voice with an edged, seemingly casual laugh to it, “S’right there.”

Remus couldn’t help it. He glanced up then, neck still bowed down, through his eyelashes, and watched Alex’s face change. He straightened, fingers drumming on Remus’ stollen paper. He was staring hard at the table, muscle working in his jaw, “So?”

Sirius was looking just as hard at his own copy of the prophet, turned slightly away from Alex. Remus could see his bruise more harshly at this angle, “So, I’m saying it’s perfectly in your reach.”

“Why are you being difficult?’ Alex’s teeth were clenched and the phrase came out a bite, “It’s just juice.”

“I’m not.” Sirius drained the rest of his own glass and made a move to get up, “I’ve got class—“

“Sit.”

Remus straightened in a second, feeling James do the same beside him. He had a feeling that both of their eyes were trained on Alex’s tight grip on Sirius’ shoulder, so high up that it was nearly his neck.

“He has class.” Remus heard himself say, “What’s your issue?”

“It’s just,” James parroted, eyes cool, “juice.”

Sirius closed his eyes, lowering himself back to his seat. His shoulders were hunched away from the grip, head turned awkwardly to the side. Remus was ready to lunge across the table.

“What?” Alex looked between him and James, eyes cool, smile verging on wicked, “It’s not big deal. We’re just sorting this out, right Siri?” When Sirius didn’t answer right away, Alex reached forward, palm against Sirius’ jaw, and stroked the greening bruise on Sirius’ cheek with his thumb, “Right, Sirius?”

“Stop.” Remus felt all the air leave his lungs with the word, “Stop.” He was standing, hands pushing the juice pitcher right into Alex’s lap where it spilt, sloshing its contents all over his robes.

“Jesus fucking—“

But Remus didn’t stop to hear his exclamations. His eyes were on Sirius, on the way he was still trying to make himself small. Remus felt something in him snap at the sight, felt some string inside his chest slowly springing part and unraveling. And he let it, suddenly wishing it had snapped a long time ago, and stepped onto and over the long great hall table in one stride, making it to Sirius’ side, and taking his bag from the seat for him.

“Pads.” He glanced nervously to where Alex was still spluttering, throwing vague curses at the laughing onlookers, then back to Sirius. Remus didn’t know how to tell him that he needed him to follow him. He didn’t want to sound demanding, not like Alex. He didn’t want to grab Sirius in any forceful way, but he needed, needed him to know, “Sirius.” He whispered, his fingertips just barely brushing the side of Sirius’ palm where it was flat against the table.

And Sirius looked up from the floor, saw Remus with their bags, and swung his legs out of the bench. He walked ahead of Remus out of the great hall, fist clenched. He didn’t look back to see if Remus was following him until they had made it a good four floors above the Great Hall and into an darkened hallway.

Only then did he turn around, cheeks wet, chest rising unevenly. And Remus was right there, dropping their bags to the floor carelessly. Remus wasn’t sure if he was allowed, he didn’t know what made him do it, but his hands were on Sirius’ cheeks, carefully avoiding the bruise.

“I—“ Sirius’ chest jump, breathing harsh and face breaking, “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I don’t know why—“

And Remus’ own chest ached with the look on his face, like he’d done something wrong, like Remus would be mad. He was anything but mad at Sirius, if anything he was angry with himself.

“You didn’t have to tell me.” Remus shook his head, “I knew. I knew the second—“ Remus closed his eyes, dropping his head, “And I didn’t say anything. I don’t know why either.” He felt the burn of tears in his throat and he looked back at Sirius, thumbs stroking the new tears away, “I hoped I was wrong. I wanted to be wrong so bad.”

“I wanted it to have not happened.” Remus could feel Sirius leaning into his touch as he spoke, and his heart picked up, “I wish it never happened, I wish all of it never happened—“

Remus shushed him softly, thumb moving to press a curl of hair off his temple, trying desperately to make it better, “I know. I know, I…” His words trailed off, breath dying in his lungs at how Sirius had suddenly pressed their foreheads together. “Sirius.” His voice barely came out.

“You’re so gentle, Re.” Sirius’ hands came up to Remus’ neck, one resting at the back of it, the other pressing over the back of Remus’ palm, “Always, you’re so… It’s everything. With everyone, it doesn’t matter who it is, but I feel it so much. In the way you look and touch and speak.” Sirius let out a soft sniff. He was still crying, but he was practically cradling Remus’ face now, instead of the other way around, palm having moved to Remus’ cheek, Remus’ dropped to Sirius’ chest. Sirius’ words were quiet, even in the space between them, “What have I been doing? Remus, what have I been doing?”

Remus let out a breath, “I…” They were so close. Remus was desperate. He could just lean forward and…That was what Sirius was saying wasn’t it? But after what had just happened he pulled up short. His hands moved to Sirius’ neck, feeling his heated skin, but he willed himself back, “God, Pads, your cheek. You need—“ Remus shook his head, “I can’t believe he hit you.”

Sirius closed his eyes, “I can’t believe I let him. Jesus, I could stand up to my mother, and not to him?”

“It’s not your fault, Pads—“

“No, I know.” Sirius closed his eyes, lashes brushing his cheeks, “I know, I just. I feel—“ He looked at Remus again, really looked at him, eyes flicking to each part of his face. His gaze burned, “I feel awake. Or something. I feel like I’ve been wasting time.”

“Wasting time?” Remus whispered. Sirius pushed the hair off of Remus’ forehead, palm a warm pressure that made Remus’ eyes close, his voice shake, “What do you m—“

Sirius kissed him instead of letting him finish, hard and insistent, salty and gentle. His fingers held Remus’ neck softly, thumb brushing over Remus’ bottom lip when they broke for air, “This.”

Remus let out a breath and pulled their mouths back together, suddenly unaware of how he ever survived before this second. Sirius’ words were muffled against his mouth,

“I mean this.”

Remus’ back hit the wall and then they were pressed together, “God—“ Remus couldn’t help it, he started smiling, “Pads.”

Sirius’ lips moved from his lips to his cheek, his jaw, “What’s so funny?” He pressed a lingering kiss to Remus’ cheek, “I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long, Merlin, there’s so many of them.”

Remus laughed, pure, giddy, relief-filled and borderline tearful, “What?” He threaded his hands in Sirius’ dark hair, bent to press a kiss just above the collar of his shirt, “What?”

“Freckles.” Sirius sighed, “I love them.” His lips peppered kiss after kiss, “I love them, I love them, I’ve been wasting so much time, Merlin.”

Remus shushed him, thumbing over his bottom lip, “We’ll make it up. It’s okay, god, my cheeks hurt.” They both laughed, “Those tides turned quickly.”

“Well.” Sirius brushed their noses together, “You always make everything better, it seems.”

Remus bit his lip, grin softening. He carded his fingers through Sirius’ hair a few times, felt the way he leaned into it, “I don’t really feel like sitting in class. Do you want to… I don’t know, grab breakfast in the kitchens? Maybe bring it back to the dorms…” His eyes trailed down to Sirius’ lips, and he watched has they parted slightly before shifting into a grin, eyes bright.

“That,” He leaned down, picking up their bags before lacing Remus’ fingers with his own, “feels like all I’ve wanted forever.”

Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’ knuckles, “Well, we’d better go then.”

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #the marauders era #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fluff #the marauders era headcanons #wolfstar headcanons #wolfstar fic #wolfstar ficlet #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfic #wolfstar fanfic #hp #writing #the marauders

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cindylouwho-2 · 5 years

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RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, June 2019

Welcome to my latest summary of recent news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & ecommerce! This covers articles I came across from May 31 to June 21, although some may be older than that.

(Unfortunately, a few of this edition’s entries were lost somehow, & I could only remember one of the missing, so if you know of an article/post that should be included, please let me know, & the piece will be added here as well as to the next post.)

My busy few months are now mostly over, so I will have more time to get working on this Tumblr, new blog posts & the new forum I want to start; expect more frequent updates starting in July.