#peter!friends to lovers

[waitimcomingtoo]

And I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you overhear Peter denying that he likes you so you go out with another guy, leaving him to crash your date and tell you how he feels

Masterlist

“At what point does the staring because you’re pining for your friend become staring because you’re a stalker and planing on wearing her hair as a wig?” Ned asked after following Peter’s gaze and seeing he was once again staring at you from across the cafeteria.

“I don’t know. I think when I start wearing baseball caps and standing outside her window with binoculars.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin in his hand as he continued to stare.

“But, it’s not gonna get to that point though, right?” Ned laughed nervously.

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “She lives on a pretty high floor.”

“That’s not the answer I wanted.” Ned said quietly.

“I had a dream last night that I asked her out and she said “I’ll see you at 8” without ever telling me where we were meeting just like in the movies.” Peter said proudly.

“You should not be proud of that. Why don’t you just ask her out with your out loud words for once?” Ned asked him.

“Because the dynamic of our friendship will be-“

“-forever altered past the point of repair and things will eventually return to normal but never feel the same.” Ned groaned as ge finished Peter’s sentence. “Yes, I know. Thats always your excuse. But I really don’t think she’ll say no.”

“You don’t know that.” Peter insisted. “I can’t risk it.”

“Peter, it’s so obvious you guys like each other. She always laughs at your jokes and nobody, and I mean nobody, finds you funny. And I know you like her back because you stare at her all the time and got goosebumps that one time her ponytail hit you in the face.”

“It smelled like freedom and prosperity.” Peter whispered.

“So ask her out and smell her ponytail all the time.” Ned whispered back.

“I just can’t, okay? And I don’t even like her like that. So stop bringing it up.” Peter said and looked over at you again. He watched you leave a group of friends and walk over to him and Ned.

“But you guys obviously want to be together so why don’t you just be together?” Ned asked him.

“Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me, okay? That’s that.” Peter whispered harshly just as you sat down at their table.

“Hey guys. I’m pretty sure I just got a veinte out of one hundred on my Spanish quiz so.” You sighed and dropped your backpack on the table.

“Hi.” Peter’s blushed and smiled at you. Your bad mood quickly eviscerated and you smiled back.

“Hi Peter.”

“If you want, I can help you study for your next Spanish quiz. I took it last semester and did fairly bien.” Peter offered.

“Really?” You lit up. “Thanks, Pete. That would be so bien of you.”

“No problemo.” Peter said back.

“This feels…racist.” Ned mumbled as he watched the interaction.

“I, uh, I watched that movie you were talking about the other day.“ You told Peter with a nervous smile.

“You watched Alien? Did you like it?” Peter asked excitedly.

“I did but it made me kinda paranoid about, you know, aliens. But I liked the part when the alien came out of the guys chest. I never realized that scene was from that movie. I felt like I was finally in on the film bros inside jokes.”

“Yeah. I like that part too. I also like the part when he swam up the filters motor and stuck that pebble in there so the tank would get dirty and have to be cleaned, giving all the other fish a chance to escape.” Peter replied. It took you a minute to get it but when you did, you burst out laughing. Peter blushed at how hard you were laughing at his joke while Ned watched the interaction in disgust.

“That was not funny.” Ned shook his head. “Not even a little bit. It was a little criminal actually.”

“What? Yes it was. Peters always funny.” You insisted.

“Isn’t he though?” Ned faked a smile before rolling his eyes.

“Hey, back off. I liked the joke.” You defended Peter, making his blush deepen.

“Thank you. I like your jokes too.” Peter told you.

“Ugh.” Ned groaned. “This is revolting to watch. Why don’t you guys just get married already?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” You said. “We’d get a tax break, right? Whatever that means.”

“It’s when they break your taxes in half.” Peter answered.

“Oh, is that it?” You laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“I know because I took that accounting class freshman year. You weren’t in that class so you wouldn’t know.” He teased you.

“Hm. Is that the class they cancelled because not enough people signed up?” You teased back.

“Yep. That one.” He nodded. “Wow. The memory on you. You’d be an excellent gatherer if this was Hunter gatherer times.”

“Aw, Peter. That’s the nicest thing a guys ever said to me.” You smiled and touched your heart.

“If you liked that compliment I have like eight more in the chamber ready to go.” Peter told you.

“Oh my God. Just make out already. But not in front of my clementine.” Ned grumbled and peeled his clementine. You and Peter fell silent at his exclamation. Peter’s face burned with embarrassment while you avoided eye contact with either of them.

“I’m gonna go refill my water bottle. I’ll be right back.” You smiled awkwardly and quickly left the table.

“Nice job, Ned.” Peter hugged. “You just made her so uncomfortable she went to fill up a full water bottle.”

“I told you, dude. She obviously likes you. I was just pointing out the obvious.” Ned defended himself.

“She doesn’t like me.” Peter insisted.

“Are you kidding me? You just made a Finding Nemo joke and she actually laughed. Not even fake laugh. That was a genuine belly laugh at the worst joke I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. She’s down horrendous for you.”

“No, she’s not. She just sees me as a friend. And I don’t even like her like that so it doesn’t matter.” Peter lied in an effort to change the subject.

“You can’t hide the truth from your best friend. I see right through your lies. You like her. I know it and you know it. Why can’t she know it?” Ned asked.

“I told you to stop bringing it up.” Peter grumbled, growing frustrated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to bring this up but it was happening more than usual lately and all it did was remind Peter that you’d never be together.

“But-“

“I don’t like her, okay? I never did. I don’t think she’s pretty, I don’t find her funny, and I don’t want to be her boyfriend. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I swear, I do not like her like that. I never have, and I never will. Okay?” Peter snapped. Little did he know, you had come back to the table and heard his whole outburst. You blinked a few times as your stomach sank but put on a brave face and sat down.

“I’m back.” You forced a smiled but didn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter’s eyes widened when you sat down and he looked at Ned.

“How much of that did you hear?” Peter asked you.

“How much of what?” You played dumb. You had to pretend you weren’t crushed that the boy you’d been pining after for years just very aggressively confirmed he didn’t like you.

“Nothing.” Peter lied and exchanged another look with Ned. Ned shrugged before changing the subject to move away from the moment entirely. You pretended to listen as you tried your best not to look as disappointed as you felt.

Once your break was over, you left the cafeteria and went for a walk around campus to clear your head. You ended up on a bench and sat down before taking a big sigh. You hadn’t noticed the guy that was sitting on the other end of the bench, but he certainly noticed you.

“Hey.” He said. You looked around for who he was talking to but found no one.

“Me, hey?” You asked and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. You, hey.” He smiled and nodded his head.

“Oh. Hey.” You smiled back.

“I’m Drew.” He said.

“Y/n.” You said back.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? You look forlorn.”

“Oh, it’s stupid.” You waved your hand.

“Not to me. Tell me about it.” He insisted and scooted closer to you. You looked down at the lessened space between the two of you and laughed shyly.

“It’s nothing. I just overheard my friends talking about me.” You told him.

“Oh shit. Was it bad?”

“Not necessarily. But it didn’t make me feel good.”

“Damn. That sucks.” Drew said. You nodded in agreement and an awkward silence fell between you.

“I like that shirt.” He said suddenly and nodded towards your shirt.

“Oh, thanks. I borrowed it from a girl I didn’t even talk to anymore.” You replied as you pulled on the shirt.

“Finders keepers.” He shrugged. “You should wear it when I take you out.”

“Why would I wear a shirt you’ve already seen when we go out?” You laughed.

“So we’re going out?” Drew smiled.

“I guess we are.” You shrugged and realized you had just agreed to a date.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up Friday.” Drew winked at you before getting off the bench. You smiled at the unexpected interaction before realizing you had not gotten a single detail.

“Wait, pick me up where?” You called after him, but he was already gone. You slumped back in your seat on the bench and felt an equal mix of confusion and excitement. Maybe this new guy was exactly what you needed to forget about Peter.

The next day, you sat with Peter and Ned at your usual spot in the lunch room but barely paid attention to their conversation. Drew had found you on Instagram and you’d been talking to him all day. Peter had noticed your thumbs flying around your keyboard and the smile on your face and felt curious and ever so slightly jealous about who was making you smile like that.

“Is that good with you Y/n?” Ned asked you.

“Sorry, what?” You asked and put your phone down.

“We were saying we were gonna get chicken wings and watch the Trixi Mattel documentary.” Peter informed you.

“Again? And I can’t Friday.” You told them.

“Why not?” Peter asked.

“I have a date.”

Ned and Peter exchanged a looked before started to speak at the same time. They both stumbled over their words and spoke over each other as they gave you all their thoughts and opinions on why you should not go on this date. You tried to cut in but Ned kept listing Criminal Minds plot lines where women were murdered while Peter asked question after question about the guy.

“Slow down. One at a time.” You shouted over them and they both went silent. You pointed to Ned to signal that it was his turn to talk.

“You have a date? With a human boy?” Ned asked in disgust.

“Yeah. Is that surprising?” You asked, sounding a little hurt that they were so shocked.

“No.” Peter replied and looked at Ned to signal for him to say the same so that you wouldn’t be offended.

“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Ned.” Peter said warningly.

“His name is Drew.” You shrugged.

“Drew? What’s his brothers name, draw? Stupid fucking past tense ass bullshit name.” Ned grumbled.

“Jesus Ned.” You laughed. “It’s a normal name. It’s short for Andrew.”

“Andrew?” Peter scoffed. “What is he, an apostle?”

“I don’t think there was an apostle named. Andrew.” You stated. “I think they were all named Mark. And like, John or something.”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Peter waved his hand. “Why are you going on a date with this potential psychopath?”

“Because asked me on a date.” You said simply.

“And you said yes? When we don’t even know this guy. What if he’s into hardcore drugs and wants to use you as a drug mule for his next big drug operation?“

“He seemed fine.” You shrugged.

“So you’re gonna risk your life going on a date with this lunatic because he “seemed” fine? What if he’s a cannibal?” Ned asked.

“I don’t think he’s a cannibal. He was just sitting on a bench on his phone.”

“Oh my God. He sounds completely insane. Check the sex offender registry for his name right now.” Ned instructed Peter. Peter started typing his name into his laptop so you shut Peter’s laptop with a roll of your eyes.

“Why are you guys being insane? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I’m about to end my life over this.” Peter mumbled.

“Me too.” Ned added. “What even spurred this reckless decision?”

“I don’t know. A guy hasn’t shown interest in me in a while. This guy did so I took a chance. Is it really that crazy?”

“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “You’re ludicrous for this. You are absolutely Pitbull featuring Ludacris for this. Saying yes to a date with a stranger. This girl has lost her damn mind.”

“How else do you meet people?” You asked them.

“You don’t.” Peter said a sarcastic laugh. you threw your hands up in exasperation and Peter and Ned exchanged a look.

“What he means is, you should try asking a friend out. That way, you already know them and know you won’t get diced and quartered into a bunch of little pieces.” Ned said kindly.

“Why would he dice me and quarter me? Wouldn’t one or the either be enough?” You asked.

“Probably not for this lunatic.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous to suggest.

“I think you guys are over reacting. What if he’s just a nice guy wants to take me on a date?”

“No guy wants that.” Ned groaned.

“Wow. Thanks Ned.” You said sarcastically.

“What I meant was, Peter has something to say.” Ned said and pointed to Peter. Peter turned bright red and gave Ned an angry look.

“You do?” You asked Peter.

“No?” Peter replied.

“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked away from him, making Peter know he blew it.

“Where is the date?” Ned asked.

“I don’t know. Some frat house. He said his friend is having a party and he wants to take me.”

“A party? At a frat house? With underage drinking? Oh great. So this guy is a law breaker. He probably has an extensive criminal record already. And I bet it’s for the drug mule thing.” Ned insisted.

“We’re all 21. You literally turned 22 last week.” You reminded him.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation.” Ned brushed you off.

“What kind of first date is a party anyway? A girl like you deserves to be taken on a nice, well thought out date that doesn’t involve getting drunk around strangers. If I was the one taking you on a date, I’d make a picnic of your favorite snacks and we’d eat it on the rooftop of my apartment while the sun sets.” Peter stated.

“But you’re not the one taking me on a date. He is. He likes me, you don’t.” You said sharply, making everyone fall silent. You hadn’t meant to snap at Peter like that but it bothered you that he was aggressively putting down your date after rejecting you.

“What? Am I wrong?” You asked the table.

“Peter.” Ned whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked at Peter again but he just couldn’t do it.

“No. You’re not wrong.” He said quietly. You nodded your head like you expected that before getting up from the table.

“I just wanted my friends to tell me they were happy for me. Instead, we just had one of the weirdest and least encouraging conversations I’ve ever been an apart of. I’ll see you guys later.” You grumbled and walked away.

“That went well.” Ned said once you were gone.

“She definitely overheard me. I totally hurt her feelings and drove her right into the arms of that cannibal drug mule. Why did I say those things?” Peter asked and rubbed his face in frustration.

“I don’t know man. I would have stopped at “I don’t like her” but you really went off.” Ned agreed.

“Because you were annoying me with how much you were asking.” Peter whined. “Oh God. What am I gonna do now? Shes gonna go to that party and fall in love with draw and forget all about me.”

“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna find draw’s party and crash it. And you’re gonna woman up and tell her how you feel.”

“How are we gonna find his party? We’re not exactly good at attending parties.”

“I have my sources.” Ned smiled deviously.

“You’re just track her location on snap maps, aren’t you?” Peter sighed.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna track her on snap maps.” Ned admitted.

When Friday came around, Peter and Ned were glued to their phones as the tried to find out where you were. Luckily for them, you had been posting a plethora of pictures of the party to your Snapchat so they easily found where you were. Unlucky for Peter, Drew was featured in all of the pictures and you looked like you were having the time of your life. Peter swallowed down his jealousy and got dressed to go to the party. He rehearsed his speech for you in his head as he made his way through the crowd. He finally found you in the kitchen in the arms of a girl he didn’t recognize. Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you tried to go towards him but immediately tripped over your over feet.

“Peter!” You cheered and threw your arms around him. The girl who had been holding you let go of your waist while Peter looked at her in confusion. You stumbled into Peter and had a hard time keeping yourself up straight

“You know her?” The girl asked Peter.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. What’s going on? Who are you? And where’s draw?”

“I’m Serita. I found her all by herself. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Well if it isn’t Peter Peter pumpkin eater. He actually doesn’t even like pumpkin flavored things. He doesn’t like me either. He made that very clear.” You laughed and clapped Serita on the back. Serita looked at Peter in amusement but he was too focused on how drunk you were.

“Are you drunk?” Peter asked in shock.

“What? No.” You scoffed and nearly fell over.

“She’s wasted.” Serita told him. “I got her to drink some water by telling her it was a big shot of vodka.”

“I’m just here to feel the heat with somebody.” You said and held your hands up in defense.

“I’ve never seen you drink this much. What happened?” Peter asked you.

“Psh. I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” You denied the obvious with a wave of your hand. The action caused you to stumble again and you had to grip Peter’s shirt to keep from going down.

“You can’t even stand up straight. Where’s draw?” Peter asked again and looked around the room for your date.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he left with that pretty red headed girl from our statistics class sophmore year. With that teacher who had that cat with a silly name. Remember him? What was the cats name?”

“Kitty puss.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“Kitty puss!” You cheered again and nearly dropped to the floor.

“I got you.” Peter said and tightened his grip on you. “But if he’s on on a date with you then why did he leave with another girl?”

“Because he didn’t get what he wanted from this girl?” You shrugged with a sad smile. Peter’s eyes darkened and he looked at Serita with a clenched jaw.

“What did he want?” He asked her.

“To get her drunk enough to lower her standards.” Serita stated. “That’s what he does to all the undergrad girls on this campus. Or at least, he tries to. Girls his age know better and stay away from him. But unfortunately for your best friend here, she didn’t know about his reputation.”

“Sterling Knight should have had a bigger career after Starstruck. He was funny and could sing. I never found him all that handsome but he had star power. He deserved more from Disney and I’ll die on that hill.” You interrupted their conversation to say.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” Peter smiled kindly at you before looking at Serita again. “I’m gonna take her to the bathroom and try to sober her up. Thanks for taking care of her. I’m glad she had a friend here.”

“Oh, I don’t know this girl. I just noticed she needed someone and stayed with her.” Serita explained. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a grateful smile.

“Oh. Well thanks for noticing. I got it from here.” He said before picking you up bridal style. You laughed gleefully and wrapped your arms around his neck, making Peter turn red again. Serita noticed this and stopped him.

“Hold on. How do I know I can trust you with her?” Serita asked. “What if you don’t even know her and you’re just trying to do what Drew was trying to do?”

“I promise I know her. Look. She’s my lock screen.” Peter said and showed Serita his lock screen which was a photo of the two of you.

“Best friend, huh?” Serita smirked.

“Please.” Peter whined. “I can’t hear it from you too. I’m an idiot and I know that. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“Well good luck. She’s been talking about “my Peter” all night.” Serita patted his back before walking away. Peter smiled at that before carrying you to the bathroom.

“Is this how Lady Gaga felt at the 2011 Grammys when they carried her in in that giant egg?” You asked as you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.

“We will never know how Lady Gaga felt while being carried in a giant egg at the 2011 Grammys. You’re just being carried by your idiot friend to a disgusting frat bathroom that probably has salmonella and syphilis all over it.”

“Romantic.” You chuckled and held Peter tighter. He shut the bathroom door behind the two of you before gently putting you down on the countertop. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet while you swung your legs.

“My tummy hurts.” You whined.

“I know. Take this.” Peter instructed and handed you Tylenol.

“Magic beans?”

“Tylenol. Drink this.” He chuckled and handed you back the cup of water from Serita. You chugged the water with the pills and wiped your mouth before giving Peter a sad smile.

“How do you feel? Do you need to puke?”

“No.” You shook your head. That action made you nauseous and you hopped off the counter to throw up into the toilet.

“I had a feeling that was gonna happen.” Peter mumbled.

“Don’t tell Kitty Puss about what a wreck I am.” You pleaded and threw up again.

“I won’t.” Peter laughed and held your hair back.

“I’m gonna die.” You whined and slumped against the bathtub. Peter sat down beside you and got the hair out of your face.

“You’re not gonna die.” He assured you. “You’re just gonna have really bad breath and carpet burn on your knees.”

“I hate carpet burn.” You said and started to cry. Peter had a feeling the tears weren’t just from the carpet burn so he wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” He said softly as he rubbed his hand on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder for a minute before pulling away. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped your tears for you.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly as you stared down at your lap.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For going on this date.”

“No. I don’t want to hear that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Peter shook his head as he continued to dry your eyes. You pushed your hand away and held it so he would look at you.

“I do. I only went because I was mad at you. And I posted all those things because I wanted you to think I was having fun with another guy. But I wasn’t having fun. I was thinking about you the entire night.”

“Well you fooled me.” Peter chucked. “I thought you were halfway in love with this guy already. But why were you mad at me?”

“I heard you the other day. I heard you tell Ned you didn’t like me.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.

“Oh, that’s not-“

“And it’s fine.” You cut him off. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you over that. It’s not your fault you don’t like me. We can’t help what we don’t feel.”

Peter stared into your eyes and saw a sadness he’d never seen you show before. You had sobered up a little but still weren’t completely there. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wanted you to be sober enough to remember it.

“So what happened to your date?” He changed the subject. You gave Peter a sad smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“He wasn’t much of a gentleman.” You admitted. Peters jaw clenched but he tried to remain calm for you same.

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept trying to talk to him and get to know him but all he wanted to do was get drunk. So I kept drinking whatever he handed me because I thought that would make me a more “fun” date.” You told him. You looked down at your dress and nervously fiddled with the hem of it. Peter stayed silent as he watched your eyes fill up with tears.

“I got all dressed up. I did my hair and my makeup. I tried to look pretty for him.” You said sadly. “But he didn’t even compliment me when he saw me. And he didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. I kept feeling like I was annoying him any time I asked him a question. But I was just trying to get to know him.“

“Well he’s crazy for not complimenting you. Because you look very pretty tonight.”

“Oh, please. My makeup’s running down my face and I probably have puke on my dress.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still the prettiest girl in this room.” Peter told you.

“I’m the only girl in this room.” You reminded him and pointed to the bathroom wall.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the prettiest girl in any room you’re in.” Peter stated. That brought a smile out of you and you slipped your hand into his.

“You’re sweet.” You smiled in appreciation and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter squeezed you back before getting the hair off your forehead. You leaned into his hand and looked into his eyes.

“What happened tonight?“ He asked quietly.

“Well, once I was drunk enough for Drew’s liking, he asked me to go up to one of the bedrooms with him. I went because I thought it was because he wanted a more private place to talk. I thought he wanted to hear what I had to say. Imagine that? Imagine your date being interesting in something you had to say? But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to talk.” You laughed sadly before looking down at the floor with a heavy sadness.

“What did he want?” Peter asked and braced himself. You looked up and met Peter’s eyes with a sad smile.

“You know what he wanted.” You said softly. Peter gulped and nodded his head so you wouldn’t have to relive it. You let out a sigh and wiped your tears on the back of your hand.

“He didn’t even kiss me.” You laughed sadly. “He just shut the door and tried to unzip my dress. I pushed him away and yelled at him, and then he got upset that I was upset so he left me in there. I was too drunk to go after him so I just sat there for a while in the dark. By the time I came back down to the party, he was already making out with another girl.”

“What’s this guys problem? He got to take the most incredible girl in this city on a date and he blows it in every way possible? He’d be lucky to talk to you, let alone go out on a date with you. How could he not see what a privilege he had just to be near you?” Peter said with genuine anger.

“Thanks, Pete.” You chuckled and felt slightly better about the night. Peter was about to go off more until he saw the look on your face. You didn’t need to hear Peter’s gripe right now. You needed comfort.

“Should we kill him?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“I think so. Serita told me he’s got a bit of a reputation for this kind of thing. I had no idea.”

“I can’t believe Ned was right and this guy really was insane.” Peter said, making you laugh.

“I know. I guess this means we should listen to him more.” You laughed. Peter smiled at you before scooping you up again and kicking the door open.

“Woah. Where are we going?” You asked as he carried you straight out of the party.

“On a real date.” He replied and you fell silent. He carried you all the way to his apartment building and swung up to the roof.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and he slipped out of his button down. He draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm before racing downstairs.

When he returned, he had a picnic blanket, his portable Death Star night light, a lunchables pizza, and two bottles of water. You smiled as he laid the picnic blanket down before patted the space beside him. You sat down and he wrapped a blanket from his bed around the both of you. You cracked open your water bottle and downed it while he put together the lunchables. He handed you one of the pizzas and you did cheers before silently eating them as the sun began to rise.

“Are you enjoying your meal, madam?” Peter looked away from the sunrise to ask you.

“Why, yes I am. This is one of the finer lunchables I’ve ever eaten. Compliments to the chef.” You played along.

“The chef thanks you kindly.” Peter replied and you both laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a minute as you watched the sky become pink. Peter looked over at you and felt his heart ache over the way the sun was lighting up your face with a warm glow. You were holding your blanket tightly around your body to shield yourself from the morning air and had your eyes shut to let the night wash away from you. Peter knew in that moment he was in love and it could not be unspoken any longer.

“So, uh, remember when we were in the bathroom before and you said we should listen to Ned more?” Peter began.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would say. But I guess so. Why?” You wondered and looked over at him. Peter looked you in the eyes and gulped.

“Ned was actually right about a second thing.”

“Two things? Is he going for a personal record?” You laughed. When you saw that Peter wasn’t laughing, you stopped smiling.

“What is it, Pete? Something bad?”

“No. Not bad. Just, um, just a little clarification, I guess.” Peter began.

“Clarification about what?”

“I know you heard me telling Ned that I didn’t like you. And I know that it hurt your feelings. Which I totally understand why it would. It was overkill. But what you overheard the was my frustrated attempt to get Ned to stop insisting that I liked you.”

“Oh. Okay.” You said slowly and never took your eyes off him. Peter stared into your eyes for the last time before everything changed.

“And the only reason he keeps insisting that is because it’s true. He was trying to get me to tell you how I felt and I snapped at him because I was scared that if I ever did tell you how I felt, you wouldn’t feel the same.” Peter finished. You stared at him for a long time but Peter couldn’t read your expression. You were definitely pensive but he didn’t know if you were upset with him or relieved to know the truth. You turned your face back towards the sunrise and stared out at it.

“Hm.” You hummed.

“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” Peter asked nervously.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about that part in the movie Alien when the two main characters get directions from that school of fish and all the fish take the shape of an arrow to show them which way to go.” You said very seriously. Peter shook his head before cracking up laughing.

“Wow. Ned must be on a roll because hearing my own joke repeated back to me makes me realize how unfunny it was.” He admitted, making you laughing.

“I still laughed.” You shrugged. “Even if it wasn’t funny.”

“You did.” He realized with a smile.

“Probably because I like you so much.” You shrugged again and stopped looking at the sunrise to look at him. Peters smile grew and he reached over to hand your hand in his. All that pining and anticipation had led to that moment of you finally admitted how you felt about each other.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Thats probably why.”

Tag list 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

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[totallynotashieldagent]

falling for jason todd happens slowly and then all at once

it starts with lazy pre-patrol Friday evenings. he knows you don't have work in the morning so he stays for a snack before heading out.

it turns into "hey wanna watch a movie?" which turns into "I'm ordering food for us" and then you're lying on the couch at other ends but your feet are in his lap as top gun plays on the TV and he doesn't even realize he's doing it but he's rubbing the tension out of your heels.

it turns into "oh my office has a workshop for first aid happening" and you take it because you figure you should know how to patch him up after the bad nights

that turns into him showing up on a Tuesday night, which NEVER happens but he's on edge and he's anxious and he doesn't know what else to do and he just needs a hug and you do it.

you hold him until he stops shaking and he falls asleep on you like a weighted blanket.

maybe in hindsight, that is where it all started. waking up in a mess of limbs and untangling yourself, pushing him off until he falls on the ground and you laugh before leaving to get ready for work and... he doesn't leave. he's there when you come back in the evening because he just- he doesn't have an answer except, he didn't want to go.

you shrug and say you don't mind and you continue with your evening errands and chores and he orders food and during it all you realize how... domestic this all is.

it's a wednesday evening and he knows gotham is waiting for him but tonight...just tonight, he wasn't something calm, something normal.

the air is thick but neither of you address it. and he leaves eventually with unsaid words and confusion hanging in his mind.

the routine of friday night hangouts continue but every touch is more.. electric and neither of you say anything because you really do think that it's just in YOUR mind and the other doesn't feel that way at all.

it goes on for weeks and weeks until the tension gets so bad that you're snapping at each other for even breathing too loud but still you're in the same space because you can't handle the thought of being a part

it goes on for an embarrassing long time because even though the love is requited, you're both just fucking idiots

it goes on until a bad patrol night and he shows up with a bunch of knives sticking out of his back and instead of going to a safehouse or alfred, he's here. with you. and your hands are shaking because this surgery level shit and you took a BASIC aid workshop. you're crying silently as you do your best to fix him even with the Lazarus healing kicking in and you keep whispering to yourself "not yet not yet not like this not like this not before I can say-"

and everything just ...freezes

"Before what?" He rasps, his breath laboured and hard

"It's nothing-" You whisper and continue to bandage him

so he twists his back and looks at you, asking again.

"Before what?" His eyes are glowing green as his wounds are slowly starting to heal under your fingertips. "Please-" He strains. "Before what?"

"Before I can be brave enough-" You swallow, your shaking hands pressed against the bandage of his back

"Brave enough for...?" He whispers, his eyes darting across your face, memorizing every feature. Your eyes, your Cupid's bow, your parted lips-

"For this-" You finally take a leap and press your lips to his.

Drabble Master List.

[izels-writing]

j. potter — 5 times james showed you he loved you + the 1st time he said it

Pairing: james potter x childhood best friend!fem!reader

Summary: james is in love with you, as you are with him.

Warnings: longer than usual, FLUFFF, a bit specific (y/n have a big family and nut allergy), a break up (not james ), confession scene is bad but i feel that’s what childhood best friend love confession would look like😭, ALSO I USED A LITTLE DIALOGUE FROM GILMORE GIRLS AND B99 BC I JUST HAD TO OKAY IT WAS FUNNY

a/n: i tried so hard with this one, pls tell me if u like it! it’s a bit different than my usual writing

august 12th, 1969:

"what're you two doing?" euphemia potter asked, a small smile gracing her lips as she noticed you and james sat across each other on his bedroom floor.

you placed your piece down, grinning at james' utter disappointment as you took his piece in the process. he groaned.

"we're playing muggle chess," he told his mother. "and y/n's beating me!"

you smiled. "i told him it wasn't as easy as he thought!" you countered, noticing euphemia's chuckle.

"well, it's getting late you two," she said. "i don't suppose you two expect to be up until the wee hours playing this game," though she tried to be stern, you and james knew how incapable she was when it came to the two of you.

"mum! we're nine now! can't we just have a little bit longer? nine o'clock it too early," james complained. "how about ten thirty?"

euphemia crossed her arms in thought. "how about ten o'clock?"

"ten-twenty," james countered.

"ten-fifteen," euphemia concluded, "take it or leave it,"

"we'll take it!" you exclaimed. james nodded in agreement, though, he always agreed with whatever you said.

you supposed that was part of the best friends thing.

you and james had been best friends since you were five years old, when your parents inherited the house next door to his—which was a blessing given the large family you had. three brothers, two sisters, and you—making a total of six kids. your three bedroom apartment wasn't cutting it anymore at that point.

so, to escape your loud and obnoxious family, you often spent all of your time at the potters. it helped that you and james didn't go to school, given euphemia taught you at home. out of all of your siblings, only you and two of your brothers had inherited magic. whereas the rest of them had to attend muggle school, you, james, and your two brothers were homeschooled by euphemia.

and everyone knew since the day you moved in, you and james were inseparable.

"alright then, either of you fancy a snack?" euphemia asked. "i don't want either of you eating too late,"

"no, thank you, mrs. potter," you replied with a small smile.

"yeah, we're okay mum, thank you," james added.

"of course," euphemia grinned. she eerily looked like a girl version of james when she did grinned, you supposed that's why you found her so comforting. "and y/n, dear, how many times have i told you to call me mia?"

you smiled sheepishly. "i'm sorry, i can't,"

and truthfully, as much as you tried, it felt way to disrespectful to call her by her name and not mrs. potter.

"yeah," james snickered, "she's got this weird compulsion where she has to be perfect and respectful all the time," james taunted.

"shut up," you laughed, shoving james gently.

"alright, well, ten-fifteen...alright?" she looked at you both warningly.

"yes ma'am," you and james chorused, but as soon as she left, you two burst into a fit of laughter.

even if lights were out by ten-fifteen, you two would still be awake all hours of the night laughing and talking about seemingly nothing.

you let him play his turn, smiling as he made a rookie mistake. you quickly showed him how bad his mistake was.

"y/n!" he groaned.

"face it, potter," you sighed. "i'm just better..."

he rolled his eyes and shoved the pillow in his lap at your face. you, being you, caught it with a laugh and threw it aside. analyzing the board as he went to make his next move.

he'd never admit he let you win just so he could see the smile on your face when you did.

——

march 15th, 1996:

"stop painting her nails and help me find an outfit!" sirius exclaimed. "moony won't wait forever!"

james looked up from your hand as you both turned to look at sirius. though he'd never admit it aloud, james loved painting your nails ever since you forced him to do it the first time because your hands were too shaky.

"red shirt, leather jacket, and..." you squinted before turning to james to let him decide what pants your lovesick friend should wear.

"black jeans," he decided. you nodded in agreement.

"thank you, mr. and mrs. potter," sirius sighed, pulling out the exact clothes you two had picked out. "finally you pay attention to me,"

his nickname for you both made you shift slightly, as it always did. not that either of them noticed.

"don't be dramatic, sirius," you replied, rolling your eyes. "painting nails is tedious work,"

"you're tedious work," sirius grumbled, quickly changing. the boys had no qualms changing in front of you despite the fact that you were a girl, they'd known you as long as they'd known james—given you were a package deal when you got to hogwarts.

"how are you two planning to spend the afternoon?" he asked, making conversation as he finished up his eyeliner.

"napping," you replied. you had pulled the longest study session ever last night, and still had to wake up in time for classes. to say you were tired was an understatement.

james didn't like naps as much as you, but he laid with you until you fell asleep because he was so warm. you practically forced him to.

"cuddle session?" sirius asked, ruffling his hair in style.

"that's the one," james replied, finishing your last nail.

"it never ceases to amaze me how close you two are without being in love," sirius chuckled before slipping on his shoes. "anyway, bye...don't wait up for me and moony," he winked before closing the door behind him.

he wasn't entirely truthful. sirius knew about your long haboured crush in james since your third year of hogwarts. at first, you were convinced it was just teen hormones and it'd wear off.

it did not.

if anything, it got worse ever since then. you couldn't be near the boy without smiling and you certainly spent most of your time with him if not with mary or the other boys you two had befriended. he just understood you, he was your person.

the worst part was that you knew he didn't feel the same. you'd known since your first year about his undying love for lily evans, which had progressed so much more over the years.

you supposed you'd get over it eventually.

you scoffed. "look at him, flaunting what we don't have—remus,"

"i know, the utter torture knowing remus will never be ours," he sighed sarcastically. you laughed,

he lied down, arm behind his head which flexed all the right muscles. meanwhile you blew at your nails to make them dry faster. you marveled at the beautiful pink color, perfectly done by your best friend.

"you can take the girl out of the muggle world, but not the muggle world out of the girl," james teased before grabbing his wand and waving it wordlessly. in an instant, your nails were fully dry.

you scoffed. "please, you love the muggle world,"

he grinned. "yeah, i do," he shrugged.

you lied beside him, curling up into him to wrap your arms around his waist and your legs around his hips. it wasn't always the most comfortable position for him, but he put up with it for you, unbeknownst to you. you lied your head on his shoulder, breathing in his aromatic cologne.

you never understood why you tortured yourself like this. you knew these moments would just make you fall harder for him, but you couldn't help yourself. even if he'd never be your boyfriend, at least you had him in your life.

"alright, see you in two hours," you mumbled, adjusting your head comfortably.

"i'll be here," he sighed in fake annoyance. "waiting..."

"shut up," you muttered sleepily.

a few movements later, he smiled softly as you began to snore quietly. he kissed your head ever so softly, as to not wake you, pushing hair out of your face.

he really did hate naps.

but not the ones with you.

——

september 22nd, 1974:

the five of you sat in the greats hall, piling your plates as everyone chattered during their dinner. you laughed at whatever sirius said, waiting for remus to let go of the spoon for the macaroni bowl.

"pads, wipe your mouth," james scolded, handing the friend in question a cloth. sirius rolled his eyes and grabbed it, wiping his mouth aggressively.

"happy?" the grey-eyed got asked in feign annoyance.

you laughed as james rolled his eyes and nodded.

"y/n, do you want some?" peter asked, showing you a plate of fruit bars with nuts in it.

"do you want her to die?!" james exclaimed, though it was drowned out by the loudness of the great hall.

you, sirius, and remus exchanged looks. james took all of you guys' allergies seriously, but for some reason, with yours he became scandalized. you took a deep breath, sending an apologetic look toward peter.

james scoffed. "does she look like snivellus to you?"

peter blinked at him.

"does she?" james demanded. the four of you didn't know whether he was genuinely being serious.

"no...?" peter replied.

"then why are you trying to poison her?!" he snapped.

peter sighed, remembering your allergy suddenly. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said. "i forgot,"

"it's okay," you replied with a small smile.

james glared at peter.

"what?!" peter exclaimed. "i said sorry! it's not like i shoved it down her throat!"

"shame on you, wormy," he shook his head.

"james, believe it or not," you said. "i'm a big girl, i can just tell peter no when he offers,"

"it's about principle, y/n!" he replied.

"and you call yourself one of her best friends," james scoffed, shaking his head at peter again.

"james, if you don't stop, i'll put normal milk in your cereal, you lactose-intolerant freak," peter threatened.

remus sighed. "one peaceful dinner, it's all i ask," he grumbled. sirius rubbed his arm comfortingly.

you laughed loudly, making the other four turn to you. quickly, the rest of them broke and laughter filled the table. quickly, remus, sirius, and peter resumed their own conversation—leaving you to talk to james.

"thanks for remembering, it's very kind of you," you admitted to him lowly. "even though you're such a drama queen about it," you taunted.

"of course, i actually know you," he whispered back. "not like these posers,"

you laughed, shoving him playfully. "you're such a loser,"

"takes one to know one," he fired back.

you rolled your eyes and joined in the conversation in front of you, grabbing a cookie and breaking it in half. without breaking your conversation, you handed one half to james and began to eat the other.

he smiled at you and ate his half.

of course he remembered everything about you. how could he not? you were going to be in his life for the rest of it. that he was sure of.

——

june 12th, 1975:

you sniffled, wiping your nose on a tissue as you went through your various polaroids. your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, had broken up with you a couple hours ago. as much as you tried not to cry over a boy, especially one that wasn't your best friend, you couldn't help but feel hurt nonetheless.

you liked him. and he just made a bet to date you for five months.

mary, marlene, emmeline, and lily had tried to comfort you but to no avail. you asked them to leave you be and they complied, silently agreeing to get the one person who they all knew could comfort you.

you held back a sob, cutting up the pictures and discarding them in the dorm trash. god, you felt pathetic. he wasn't worth it. but it still hurt.

a knock at the door caught your attention.

"come in," you sniffled, thinking it was one of the girls trying to get to your shared room that you selfishly kicked them out of. you hated crying in front of people.

a tall, lean raven-headed boy entered the room. he held a box of tissues and a buttload of snacks. he set everything down on your desk, eyes scanning you sadly.

"he dated me on a bet, james," you sniffled as your voice wavered slightly. "he broke up with me this morning,"

you met his eyes, seeing how worried he looked, and got shoved your face into your hands—a quiet sob escaping your lips, muffled by your hands.

"i'm so sorry, love," he mumbled, sitting in front of you to pull you into a hug. you hugged him back tightly, crying quietly into his shoulder. you felt terrible for his tear-stained shoulder, but the tears wouldn't stop.

you just felt so pathetic and used. how could you fall for it so easily? but you suppose if there was anyone you could be vulnerable with, it was your best friend in the entire world.

"why didn't he like me?" you mumbled tearfully.

"because he's an idiot," james replied, holding you tightly. "because he doesn't know what a great girl is even if it slapped him in the face,"

you let go. "how could i be so stupid? i mean i should've known! in all my five years at hogwarts, no boy has ever asked me out... i should've trusted my gut," you shook your head disappointedly.

"you're not stupid," james assured you. "he is, don't get it twisted. you liked him, there's nothing wrong with that, he just happened to be a prat,"

you frowned. "i suppose. but i mean i should've known..."

james cupped your face, looking into your eyes. "listen to me, y/n," he said seriously. "you are the most beautiful girl i know, you're smart and kind and funny and understanding...i could go on and on. he lost a great girl and he will pay for it for the rest of his life, do not feel pathetic and upset over some stupid bloke—got me?"

you let a smile grace your face. "you think i'm beautiful?"

he huffed and let go of your face, though you could see his playful expression. "is that really the only thing you got from that?"

you shook your head. "no, i heard you loud and clear," you admitted with a small smile. "thank you, j, you're the ultimate best friend,"

he grinned. "i know, it's a talent,"

you rolled your eyes. without you having to say anything, he grabbed the snacks and began to open them up for you, the both of you beginning to eat from the packages of snacks.

"am i more beautiful than farrah fawcett?" you asked teasingly.

"don't push your luck," he huffed.

you let out a melodic laugh and instantly, a smile spread across james' face. that's all he wanted, was to make you laugh.

the very next week, your ex boyfriend ended up in the hospital wing after a few humiliating yet harmless hexes being cast on him. unfortunately, all four marauders received detention for something they had very obviously done.

james didn't care. he'd go through millions of detentions if it meant protecting you.

——

may 27th, 1976:

a thousand used tissues and a finished vial of cold medicine later, you had only gotten through the first five chapters of your potions book. despite your efforts, you hadn’t made much progress in the years worth of material you were set to cover. exams were in two weeks and you were much more behind than you had realized. you had no time to recover, not when o.w.l’s determined what classes you received next year.

your eyes drooped as you turned the page, leaning your head in your hand tiredly. you weren’t even sure you were retaining anything anymore, just studying so you could say you had done it.

lily and mary had left you some time ago, tired themselves. they had begged you and pleaded for you to join them in your dorm, so you could sleep off the medicine. you were the only one sick—just your luck.

you refused and moreover, begun to ignore them. they didn’t take it personally, they knew how you could get around exam time. they muttered that they’d come back to check on you soon. that had been four hours ago, and you were happy that they seemingly weren’t going to come back any time soon.

a loud clatter across the library made you sit up from your medicine-potion-induced trance. your eyes opened wider, scanning the dark library for any movement. madam pince had left two hours ago, given the library had closed and she had no idea you were back here.

“hello?” you whispered, mentally cursing yourself for the stupid mistake. if there was someone here, like a teacher, you surely had just given yourself away.

thankfully for you, it wasn’t a teacher or staff member. instead, it was your best friend.

“y/n? what’re you doing here? it’s twelve-a.m.!” james whispered loudly, moving the books that had blocked your view effortlessly. he kneeled by you on the chair, your body relaxing as you realized it was him.

“baking a cake,” you replied sarcastically. “what does it look like i’m doing, potter?”

“first of all, you know last names hurt me,” james replied. “secondly, you look like shit,”

he felt your forehead. “and you feel like shit,”

“wow, you sure know how to charm a lady, james,” you replied with a playfully eye roll. “don’t worry, i’m on my way back to the dorms, just twenty more minutes,”

james gave you a deadpan look. “mary and lily told me you said that four hours ago,”

so that’s who revealed your location. the traitors.

“james, i have to study! i can’t just not pass my potions o.w.l’s?” you replied.

james sat on the chair diagonal to you, looking at your very obviously sick form. it had to be some strain of the summer flu, given remus had gotten it just a week prior.

“to quote my mother, you have to sleep—it’s what keeps you beautiful,” he tried persuasively. you were not nothing if not vain.

you scoffed. “who’s gonna cares about beauty if i fail my finals?!”

“your future husband?” james tried.

“i won’t be marrying anyone that vain,” you concluded.

“that should make me feel better,” he replied. “but you working yourself to death does not,”

“okay, you can study for twenty more minutes,” he sighed after a moment of you staring at each other. “i’ll go make you a tea and wait with you to make sure you actually come to bed,”

you rolled your eyes and waved him off, returning to your potions textbook in no time. james quickly ambled out of the library and made his way to the kitchen.

thankfully for him, filch was on leave for a few days, not that anyone knew that. he had walked into a particularly nasty prank by james and sirius, leaving him stuck in the hospital wing for a few days. all the staff elected to not tell students, in hopes it’d scare them into not sneaking out at night.

james quickly made his way back to the kitchen, asked the house elves for a tea, and began making his way back. it was in a tiny coffee to go cup—why the house elves had them, james had no idea, but it certainly made his life easier.

he couldn’t have been gone more than a ten minutes, but as james got back, he quickly noticed the angle of the light from your wand was not the same as it had been when he left. james quietly made his way over and smiled warmly at the sight.

there you were, head lying on the table, hands tucked into your sweatshirt in attempts to be warm. you were sound asleep, the potion having finally caught up to you. granted, james was just glad the amount you had drank hadn’t killed you—as he was sure it wasn’t safe at all to finish a vial in one day.

he walked over and summoned a blanket with the flick of his wand, allowing for his hand to catch it immediately. he placed the tea down on the table. then, he pushed the hair out of your face and draped the cover over you, kissing your head gently as he had felt you do to him so many times.

he wrapped it around you and with one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around your knees and another around your neck—cradling you close to his chest. you woke for a moment, brief and unaware, to wrap your arms around his neck. he tried to fight the nerves that twisted in his stomach at your touch.

and all the way from the library to the common room, james held you tight and carried you all the way back, careful not to wake you. you were burning up, but other than that, you looked comfortable. much more comfortable than before.

the fat lady, without a word, swung open when she saw james and he safely brought you inside—laying you down on the couch. you stirred a bit and looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“thanks, j,” you whispered.

“of course,” he grinned, sitting beside you, moving your legs on his lap. “now get some sleep, i’ll wait here with you,”

“you’re a good best friend,” you mumbled through a yawn.

james smiled and kissed his fingers, gently placing them on your head. you smiled happily and fell asleep in no time.

he only wished that one day he’d be more than just your best friend.

——

october 11th, 1977:

you sat in front of james on his bed, finishing up an essay you two had worked on together. the entire day, no���the entire week, he’d been acting strange. james was usually strange, but not this strange. he had been gentler and his face would burn up whenever sirius mentioned his little nickname for both of you.

it was beginning to scare you. what if he was becoming uncomfortable with the jokes? the nicknames? what if he had a girlfriend and he didn’t know how to tell you that your relationship with each other would have to change? how would you even react to that?

you looked up at him, noticing the boy wringing his hands. despite this, you said nothing. maybe you could live in denial just a little longer.

“i have something to tell you,” james spoke suddenly.

you looked up, eying him carefully. “what’s up, j?”

james’ face flushed a light pink as he looked up at you sincerely. he swallowed thickly. for a moment, he stared at you. you both just looked into each others eyes and you were unsure what to do next. he’d never been this serious with you.

“you alrig—“

“i love you,” he blurted. “as more than a best friend,”

you would like to say that what you did next was completely intentional, but it wasn’t. as a matter of fact, you weren’t quite sure where it came from.

THUD!

you covered your mouth, looking in shock as james landed on the ground. he wasn’t terribly hurt, just shocked. you were shocked as well.

“that is…not what i expected,” james muttered, standing up and sitting in front of you again.

“what was that for?” he asked.

“i dunno…” you mumbled. “i panicked, i didn’t know what to say…”

james softened his gaze at you and a smile curled onto his lips. soon enough, you began to smile too. and then you both burst into laughter. after you both sobered up, you smiled at him.

“i love you too, as more than a best friend,” you finally replied. it felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders—you finally confesses your biggest secret to james. “just so you know,”

he smiled. “i’m glad to hear that,”

“wow, what a loser,” you commented playfully. “usually this is the scene where the guy kisses the girl,”

he grinned. “really? sort of like this?”

he pulled you in, your lips touching quickly. if this is what heaven felt like, you understood why everyone wanted to go so bad. you pulled him closer, refusing to break the kiss.

you broke apart finally. “yeah…like that,” you grinned.

“will you…?” james stumbled on his words.

you grinned, knowing him perfectly enough to know exactly what he’s asking. “yes, james, i will be your girlfriend,” you replied happily.

he smiled, pulling you in again.

he’d finally confessed it.

bonus;

“what’re you two doing?” you grinned, leaning against the doorway of your son harry’s room.

he threw down a card, glaring at ginny as she placed down her own card with a smirk.

“we’re playing uno,” ginny replied with a smile. “ron didn’t want to play so harry and i decided to go against each other,”

“how is it a muggle game and she’s beating me?! she’s never even played before!” harry exclaimed.

“you underestimate weasley’s,” ginny grinned. “we’re not as ignorant as you think,”

“well, it’s getting late you two,” you commented, glancing at the clock in harry’s room. “i don’t suppose you two plan on playing until the wee hours,”

“mum! we’re thirteen now!” harry groaned. “we can stay up a little later than nine-thirty, right?”

ginny nodded and shrugged. “i mean i’m twelve, but still…”

you sighed in feign annoyance. “fine, ten-fifteen, and then ginny will go sleep in your sisters room and you and ron will have to go to bed—sound good, you two?”

“but—“ harry began.

you smirked. your son—ever the clone of james potter, your husband. “let me rephrase, ten-fifteen, take it or leave it,”

“we’ll take it!” ginny replied quickly.

“yeah, we will,” harry smiled, glancing at ginny with a little glint in his eyes. you and james knew full well the future of harry and ginny’s relationship, even if no one else did.

“good, ten-fifteen,” you said warningly before making your way downstairs.

james lounged on the couch, clicking through tv channels. you curled up beside him.

“they’re doing the thing,” you commented, knowing james would know exactly what you meant.

“remember when we were that young and in love?” james grinned.

“aren’t we still young and in love?” you teased.

“not that young anymore, but in love? yes,” he replied with a smirk. you rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around his chest and draping your legs across his lap.

“i’m glad it’s ginny, she’s a bold little lady,” your husband grinned. “just the other day, she defended your son against this kid at the little league quidditch try-outs, even punched his nose,”

“i know, harry came home and told me all about it,” you grinned. “all impressed and admiring, even ron saw how in love he looked,”

“well, we potter men love ballsy ladies,” james joked.

you rolled your eyes. “don’t i know it…”

[stardusksx]

ೀ⋆｡ ˚ TIME TO BEGIN AGAIN remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: after the death of lily & james, reader and remus navigate their broken relationship while raising harry potter.

gif not mine, credits to the creator <3

warning: sad & angsty but there is a happy ending! idiots in love?? talks of death and grief, past miscommunication, hurt/comfort, friend to lovers, fade to black at the very end but nothing explicit!

( word count : 1.89k )

Silver moonlight bled through the windows, illuminating the tears on her cheeks and setting one-year-old Harry Potter’s eyes ablaze. He stared up at her, gaze wide like his small body had finally succumbed to the shock. She swayed back and forth to soothe him, her heart heavier than concrete, sound of his now silenced screams still ringing in her ears.

Down the hallway, she could hear muted voices. Albus Dumbledore's sombre words were incoherent to her, but she didn’t care what he was saying— what anyone was saying. She'd arrived a matter of fifteen minutes ago, burned under their sympathetic gazes, and fell apart at the confirmation of what she had hoped was a cruel, cruel, joke. Then her eyes had landed on midnight hair and a blue baby grow, the toddler squirming in Mcgonagall's arms as hysterical cries bellowed from his lungs. She’d taken him from her, cradled him close, and wordlessly walked down the hallway to Lily and James' vacant room.

She couldn’t whisper it’s okay, couldn’t get any words of reassurance out even if the infant was the only one who would be able to judge if they were truthful or not. It was like she hadn’t had air in her lungs since the phone call— it felt like nothing would be worth the effort it took to breathe again.

Lily and James were good. They were everything that a person should be, and they were gone.

“I’ve got you.” She managed to murmur, because she did— it was the one true thing she could say to offer comfort, “I promise.”

His head came to rest against her chest, and she could feel the stickiness of his drying tears against her skin. She was remembering the sorting hat placed over coppery hair, the sheepish expression on James’s face after he had accidentally hit her with a crumpled ball of paper— a note he’d been trying to get to Lily, who was sat obliviously beside her. They were so intertwined with every memory of those seven years at Hogwarts that she would never be able to think about her time there without thinking about them.

It had been the best era of her life, now forever tainted, like a spill of ink to pure water. She felt like she’d come crashing to earth after floating through antigravity.

There was shuffling in the hall, and her head snapped towards the doorway.

"Remus." She breathed, voice full of grief. The sight of him sent another wave of despair over her as more tears surfaced and spilled like rain against a window. He was dishevelled and clearly just pulled from sleep, but the redness of his glassy eyes as he stared at her for a frozen moment was enough to tell that he was in the same emotional turmoil she was. Her lip quivered before he finally strode towards her, wrapping his arms around them both. A sob was muffled into his shoulder, and she could feel his tears against the skin of her neck. They'd lost it all tonight.

"Oh god." His voice was raw, broken, as he said her name, "Oh god."

She didn’t know how long they held each other, but his arms were the only sense of reprieve she could find— like one of the million elastic bands around her heart had snapped away. She was scared to let go, scared that the one band would tighten around her again and squeeze until she gave out.

She hadn’t seen Remus since graduation. They’d had a stupid argument— stubborn colliding with stubborn, neither one of them wanting to admit to their wrongs. She had called him careless, stupid. It was harsh, but when she’d heard he was in the infirmary from a prank gone wrong, her panic had made her irrational. Why do you care so much? He had spat back when he realised she hadn’t been joking— when he realised she was actually mad. As soon as he’d said it, he really did feel stupid for instituting that she did care that deeply for him. For insinuating it like he didn’t want her to care, like he hadn’t been wishing for her to care like that since first year.

Well, forgive me, her last words to him had been, sarcastic and punctuated with a glare that she hoped would hide the way her heart was hurting, next time I’ll be sure to not give a fuck, Remus.

He’d felt too ashamed to approach her, and she’d felt too raw from the way it had been as if all her vulnerable feelings towards him had been forcefully exposed and thrown back at her with a sneer.

Come on, Sirius had said her name softly after it had been weeks, you know he didn’t mean it that way.

Then he shouldn’t have said it. She’d responded, shoving her papers into her bag and exiting the dining hall. He shouldn’t have said it like she didn’t have a right to care about him. Not when her heart had been in her throat at the sight of his bandages, voice wobbling when she’d asked if he was okay.

Yeah, he’d responded, having the nerve to grin, it was worth it for—

She was worked up. When Dorcas had come to get her, she’d made it out like he was on his deathbed. She’d been terrified. It was careless, Remus. Are you that stupid—

His eyes had widened in surprise, clearly not expecting her reaction. And so it had happened. They had said things they shouldn’t, then been too stubborn to fix it.

None of that mattered now. “He can’t go to Lily’s sister,” She said, “He just can’t.”

Remus pulled back from her, his hand gently caressing the side of Harry’s face. “He won’t,” he said firmly, “We’re his godparents, he goes to us.”

They had spoken to Dumbledore after they’d finally gotten the toddler to sleep, and the man’s features had pinched in concern. “You’d have to go into hiding,” He said, “He’ll be a target if they find out he’s still alive, as will you— if you aren’t already.”

“Whatever it takes.” She had responded, Remus nodding along.

They found themselves in the middle of nowhere. Some cottage hidden by country side trees while they waited out the war with the death eaters. Harry needed to be held most night, his cries an echo against the darkness after awakening from another nightmare.

She had nightmares too. So did Remus. They started off in separate rooms, but ended up in the same one for comfort. He held her, whispered assurances as they weathered the grief. She did the same for him.

Harry began walking, talking. They laughed again for the first time sitting on the kitchen floor, legs forming a diamond as the little boy attempted to stumble between them. One step, two step. He’d collapsed into her arms, and she’d raised him into the air, their cheers making him squeal.

The way Remus looked at her then— it had made her feel like a schoolgirl again, like she was before all the loss. She had smiled at him, genuinely, then broke his gaze to continue praising Harry.

They took turns cooking. Reminisced. It was less painful to remember things together. Candle light would flicker on the kitchen table, and they’d talk for hours like they used to. Then they’d get into the same bed, sleep in each other's arms as rain pattered against the window.

It didn’t happen straight away. They were too busy with grief, with the hurts from that lingering argument they hadn’t talked about, but eventually, with time, came the healing. Came the capacity to remember what they’d toed the line at those few months before the end of their final year at Hogwarts.

She’d loved him for a long time. She doesn’t remember when she started, but she knows that she hadn’t stopped. Not even for a moment.

Remus? It was sometime in February, the common room empty as the clock struck one in the morning. The fire was spitting embers, tartan blankets draped over laps. You're my favourite thing to come of this, you know?

His head had snapped up from his parchment paper, eyes comically wide, w-what?

She’d grinned slightly at his bewilderment, out of all the things Hogwarts has given me, you're my favourite.

He’d spluttered, and she’d gathered up her homework and headed towards the stairs, tossing a night, Mooney, over her shoulders like she hadn’t left him short of breath. At the breakfast table the following morning, Sirius had been teasing him about something as she sat down. He’d been flushed bright red, swatting the other boy's hands away and harshly whispering to stop it. Sirius had smirked at her, raised his eyebrows suggestively, and she’d told him to sod off with a poor attempt at concealing a smile.

“You're still my favourite.” She says, late into the night as her hands are deep in dish water. Remus freezes, rag hovering over the counters he was polishing. When his head turned to look at her, his eyes were as wide as they had been the last time. She smiles, “You always will be.”

He stares at her, grip on the cloth loosing, before his arm completely falls slack at his side. He takes in a breath, there’s another beat, and he does something he regretted not doing the last time.

With two strides, his hands cradle her face, and he pulls her towards him. Moonlight illuminates them, silver streamers through the kitchen window, and he kisses her like he was always meant to. Her hands fly to his waist, to his shoulders, and she melts into him as if her very bones were liquidated and seeking to be moulded permanently against his shape.

“I love you,” He says it like a promise, “Always. With everything I have.”

The words linger between mingled breaths, chests rising and falling against each other. “You’re my world, Remus. You and Harry. I don’t need anything else but this.”

He takes her hands between them, brings them to his lips. “You have me. I don’t want to be anywhere that you aren’t.”

They crash together again, years and years of unsaid things melded into their movements. They become a tangle of limbs in a bed they’d shared for months now, skin against skin and a shared pleasure that rolled over them like liquid gold.

It should feel wrong— hiding away in this cottage, raising the child of their murdered best friends, praying for the end of a war. But little by little, life begins to take a shape again, starts to feel like there is certainty and purpose. Here with Remus, with Harry, the effort it takes to breathe, to continue, is entirely worth it.

[everythingisromant1c]

It's Always Been You - Chapter 12

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Things hadn't gotten much better with James, and you knew you could only go so long without talking to him—after all, he was still your best friend. But, considering all that'd happened, along with some encouragement from your friends, you knew the time had come to finally admit you wanted more than that.

wc [6.2k]

a/n: alr guys ... very happy and also sad to say this is the last chapter of it's always been you!! :( i've loved every minute of writing this series as well as sharing it (its become my baby atp), and it is definitely because of all the love and support everyone reading has given it. thank u to everyone stuck around to this point, & i hope u guys enjoy this last chapter!! i send all my hugs and kisses <3 - e

all chapters | <- Chapter 11

It'd been another hour or two until everyone had fully returned from Hogsmeade and dinner was being served in the Great Hall. You finally changed out of your dress and into your everyday clothing again, already feeling better, but that didn't mean you felt good. You didn't think you could feel good when both your brain and heart were hurting like they were. And worst of all, the one person you'd go to in times like these for comfort was the same person you couldn't go to. Not now.

The girls had been doing their best to get your mind off of everything that had happened that day, aside from when Marlene profusely apologized to you for letting Potter hear her outburst in the common room.

"Although, I have to say," she admitted afterward. "I'm not completely sorry for him that he had to hear it. I may be brutal but I never tell a lie."

That fact didn't leave you as you sat with her and Lily in the Great Hall for dinner, a number of seats away from the other Marauders. You recognized with a skip in your heartbeat that James was with them, surprisingly enough since you knew how he was accustomed to skipping meals in the dining hall when he wanted to be alone, a habit you both unfortunately shared. But that didn't mean he was enjoying himself either.

You could see even from your seat down the table that he wasn't saying much, mostly keeping to himself quietly, something so out of character for him yet you'd seen him do it constantly the entire week. You wanted to yell at him and shake him silly, but you also wanted to hug him. When you caught yourself in the midst of those thoughts you turned back to your own spot at the table shamefully.

You tried to force yourself to eat, catching your friends' concerned looks at your full plate, but you didn't feel much like it. Especially not when you still felt maybe a dozen pairs of eyes on you from every corner of the Great Hall.

Even with all that'd happened since just that morning, the rumors and whatever else people had come up with to talk about had not yet been forgotten about by the school like your friends said it would be. Then you thought about whether news had spread of your disastrous date in Hogsmeade, and prayed that nobody had caught wind of that incident either. You didn't think you could handle any more of the staring.

Immediately after you had that thought, you spotted a fifth-year in Ravenclaw robes walking past your table, watching as he blatantly pointed at you as he spoke to his friend, and you looked down at your plate with hardened eyes.

You heard Marlene scoff from next to you. "Hey!" she called to the boy. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to point?"

The fifth-year didn't respond to her but looked to his friend, hurriedly taking a seat at his own table, his whispers being drowned out in the loudness of the dining hall.

Marlene fumed from next to you. "I can't believe these people. Are they really that bored with their own lives that they're so obsessed with a bloody rumor?"

You shook your head toying with your fork. "Just ignore them. That's what I've settled on doing."

She sighed from beside you and you thought that'd be the end of everything, until you heard gasps from down the table. You looked up and followed the sounds and were met with a sight not even the magic of Hogwarts could've prepared you for.

James—your James—had stood up on the bench he'd once been sitting in, and you thanked Merlin he wasn't standing fully on the table; though you had absolutely no idea what he could possibly be up to, you knew it couldn't be anything good. He cupped a hand to his mouth as your heartrate picked up.

"Can I have everyone's attention?"

He didn't have to ask twice for it. His voice boomed out loudly, something that seemed to come naturally to him, and the noise in the Great Hall had died out in a mere second until it was almost completely silent—quiet enough for you to hear the beating of your heart in your chest as you looked up at him. Your throat went dry.

"Not that it's any of anyone's business," he started confidently to the hundreds of eyes now looking at him, tone nothing but sober. "But nothing happened in the broom closet. Or in the locker room."

You felt the churning in your stomach claw up into your throat, then felt it drop back down, keeping you stationed in your seat. He didn't give much context to his declaration, but with the popularity of the topic amongst the school, it didn't seem like he needed to. His voice almost seemed to echo, all other noises drowning out as everyone stared up at him. James looked around the entire room appearing completely unafraid and you didn't know how the hell he did it; you probably looked more fearful than him.

"So," he began again, "I don't want to see or hear anyone talking about those rumors any longer. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can answer to me. Alright?"

Of course, nobody said anything then, but you could see in their eyes that they were going to listen to him. Or at least, they'd make sure they didn't get caught going against him. Maybe it was from his impenetrably confident voice or his respected status around the school, you weren't sure, but he had that unique effect on people in an almost effortless way.

When it was clear he'd gotten his point across, he scanned his eyes over the sea of students until they found yours. In a dizzying way, it felt like you were the only two in the room for a moment, as cliché as the thought sounded in your head.

You didn't know what had motivated him to do what he did, but you could see in his eyes something fragile that juxtaposed the self-assured look they'd had only seconds ago. He looked away again and stepped back down to floor level once more, not taking a moment before striding out of the Great Hall, his form disappearing seconds after.

Even without his physical presence, his action seemed to linger over the room for a moment more before chatter broke out once again. You were still frozen in place, not knowing if moving would finalize the idea that whatever just happened was real and not just part of some wild dream.

Marlene had confirmed that it definitely had happened, however, when she turned to you with her jaw dropped, an amazed but delighted sparkle in her eye. "Someone tell me you saw that too."

"Oh we saw it," rang Lily, who also looked much too happy about that fact, probably just relieved James's antics weren't centered on her for once. You could see them both staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to react. You could also see the boys in your peripheral, the three of them remaining at the table searching your face for a reaction.

Yet, all you could do was stand up and walk hurriedly towards the exit. Dozens of conversations rushed past your ears as you did, a blur of remarks ranging from "Potter's lost it" to "He's so bloody fit." Whatever they were saying, you noted with gratefulness in the back of your mind that none of the conversations were about you.

You reached the doorway and stopped once you were a safe distance away in the hallway, heaving breaths in for a moment to yourself before finding that you weren't alone. All of your friends had followed you without blinking an eye, and you didn't know whether you found it endearing or inconvenient. Though, to be fair, you didn't know where you were going. You just knew you couldn't sit there and pretend as if nothing had happened.

You blinked at the three boys who neared you with puzzled looks on each of their faces. "Did you guys know anything about this?"

"No," promised Sirius. "In fact, James has hardly said anything to us since this morning."

You shook your head to yourself, feeling breathless. "I can't ... believe he would do that."

"Really?" Lily stared at you. "I mean, it's Potter we're talking about. It's exactly something he would do."

You couldn't fight the smile that tugged on the corners of your lips even as you shook your head. You ran a hand over your hair as the blonde from next to you hit you in the shoulder.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" You frowned over at her as she stared at you expectantly. "Go to him."

You stilled, gaping at her. "What?"

"Go to him. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

You tipped your head at her like it would help you understand her better, parting your drying lips. "I thought you said he was a selfish git." You heard Remus snort from beside you.

"I did, sure," reasoned Marlene, not without a hint of pride. "But only because I thought he was ruining your chances of moving on now that you were over him. But seriously, I can see your face when you look at him." She shook her head. "That's not the look of someone who wants to move on."

Your eyes flickered over her face as she spoke, an infinite number of thoughts overtaking you. In the silence of your thinking, a Hufflepuff boy walked past the six of you in the hallway, staring all the while.

"What are you looking at?" snapped Marlene, turning to him without missing a beat. "Did you not just hear Potter?"

Like he'd heard him loud and clear, and also like he was scared of Marlene, he hurried away with his head bent forward. Satisfied, the blonde turned back to you. At your conflicted expression, she asked, "Well?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. "It's just that," you began, not even knowing where you were going with your rambling. "I've spent so long trying to get over him. It's not fair to myself to just forget all of that, and it definitely wasn't fair to Sebastian-"

"For Merlin's sake," cut in Lily, to your surprise. "You keep talking about what's fair and what's unfair, but what about you? What do you want?"

You stared at her, beginning to feel breathless under the eyes of all your friends. "It's not just about what I want. It's not that simple."

"But what if it is?" she questioned. "I know how difficult this has all been for you. And I know you said Potter doesn't just get to realize his feelings for you and suddenly be with you, that it doesn't work like that. But what if it does?" She raised her hands at her sides. "Not everything is a perfect story to tell. Especially not when it comes to you two. It's not every day you fall in love with your best friend and he finally sees that he's fallen for you too. Are you seriously going to let him go because of some made-up system of rules?"

Your breath was becoming staggering now, and you didn't know what to think, because everything they were telling you sounded so right.

"I don't know," you began unsurely. "Of course, I don't want to lose him. Not talking to him for the past week has been harder than I ever could've imagined. I don't even know what it would feel like to have to do it for longer than I already have been." You blinked down at your shoes, truly realizing those things at the same rate you said them. "I think I just ... miss him."

"Of course you miss him." Marlene looked at you sympathetically. "That's why I think you should go tell all this to him."

You felt bile rising in your throat. "I don't even know if he'd want to see me after all we've said to each other."

"Are you joking?" Remus butted in exasperatedly. "Prongs is bloody in love with you. Can't you see that?"

"Remus," you warned softly because you didn't know how much more of this hope you could take before you did something you'd regret.

"I'm telling the truth." His voice was heavy with meaning. "Maybe it took him a while to realize it himself, but the rest of us have had to sit back and watch you both act like you don't have feelings for each other for years. Believe me, the only reason he's in his room right now and not with you is because he thinks that's what you want."

Your brows pinched. "You can't truly know that."

"Really?" he laughed. "What do you think we talked about that night Vance asked you out?"

Your expression faltered and you forced yourself to think back to the night James had begun acting distant from you, though it wasn't difficult to, the storyline of it all clicking into place in your head.

"You," breathed Remus. "We talked about you."

"Not to mention," Sirius added, "we're the ones who've had to spend every night in our dorm listening to him bitch and moan about Vance this and Vance that." You swallowed at your friends' words, but they didn't quit.

"And we know James was being a right idiot today," Sirius insisted honestly. "But you should've seen him this morning right after you two argued. He was heartbroken. More than he'd ever been over Evans." He turned to the redhead in question. "No offense, Evans."

Lily rolled her eyes lightheartedly. "Trust me, Black, none taken."

He nodded and turned back to you swiftly. "So for you to think that James would want anything other than to fix things with you and just be with you is bloody mental."

You stared at all of your friends who were looking so determinedly back at you that you didn't think you could tell them 'no' now. But still, your feet didn't budge.

"It's not just that," you almost whispered. "I guess I'm just ... scared. What if it goes wrong and we get into some ridiculous fight again? What then?"

Marlene took a hold of your shoulders, slightly scaring you in her resoluteness. "Potter just stood up and yelled at the entire bloody school and you're trying to tell us you'rescared?" She shook you a little, and your friends smirked from behind her. "Be a Gryffindor for Godric's sake! Go to him!"

Before you could say anything more, she was turning you around and shoving you a little until you had the momentum you needed to take steps toward the Gryffindor common room. You made it all the way up the nearest set of steps before you paused, turning back to your friends with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, you guys." You expected them to share the sweet moment with you, but they only rolled their eyes.

"Go, woman!" Sirius groaned, and you rolled your eyes back at them, but it lacked any real annoyance.

You didn't know exactly what you were planning on doing, but you didn't have time to think about it because your legs were carrying you speedily through the halls in your anxious state and wouldn't let you stop until you reached the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Taking a steadying breath in, you said the password and entered the room.

With everyone else still being at dinner in the Great Hall, it wasn't exactly difficult to find James. He sat in the common room, his brunette head of curls visible to you in the low light. They covered the majority of his face that you could see, his head tipped downwards with his elbows resting on his knees. That changed within the blink of an eye as you entered the room, his head swiftly lifting until he locked eyes with you, and you had to fight a shiver at the feeling it sent shuddering through you.

He seemed to think you were just going to go to your own dorm and ignore him, and he averted his eyes to look somewhere else, maybe the fireplace, until you left—but you didn't. You only walked closer to him until you were separated by only one of the couches, the distance still small enough to make your breathing quicken.

At the soundlessness of your stilled footsteps, James looked back up and met your eyes again, and he swallowed. Clearly, he hadn't expected you to make any move to talk to him that night, even after the scene he'd made in the Great Hall. The problem was that you hadn't expected yourself to either, and now you didn't know what you wanted to say first, because there were certainly a million things you had to make sure he knew.

"Thank you," you said, because you figured it was a good place to start. He nodded up at you, his eyes not revealing much of anything, but you didn't let that sway you. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Of course I did." His voice was stubborn, but too sincere for how little his expression gave away.

You looked down at your feet, letting a moment pass before speaking again. "Well, now it seems like everyone is going to be talking about you from now on."

"That doesn't matter to me." James's voice cut through the air richly, and when you looked back up from the floor he was staring at you meaningfully. "They can say whatever the hell they want. As long as they're not talking about you."

Your shoulders dropped at his words, and the way he held your eyes as he said them made your heart beat faster in your chest. It hadn't even been a full day since you'd last spoken to him, but you already missed him.

"They wouldn't leave you alone," he said concretely, his tone beginning to fill with emotion. "And then, I heard what Marlene said in the common room, about some girl harassing you in the library? I-" he shook his head frustratedly, rubbing at his forehead with one of his hands. "I'm just mad at myself that I've let it go on for this long. Or that I didn't even know that happened."

You already felt too emotional for your liking, the feelings inside of you swirling more aggressively at every word he said to you. "It's not like it's your fault, James."

"Well it's not like I did much to stop it, did I?" He seemed genuinely angry at himself now, and you didn't know what you could do to help. A painful lump was rising in your throat, but you stayed rooted in your spot behind the sofa. "And I'd ask you why you didn't come and tell me, but that'd be a bloody stupid question."

He shook his head, eyes becoming wistful like he was recalling a memory, one that pained him. "Earlier, when Marlene was defending you in the common room, the look on your face was ... I don't know. Crushed. Sad."

You swallowed at the memory, because that had been exactly how you were feeling, amongst thousands of other ways. James looked down at his lap.

"I just wanted to try and help, do anything to make that look on your face go away, but I couldn't. So I just kept replaying how you looked in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I hated myself because I realized you were only hurting because of me. And that was the worst part. Realizing that it was all my fault."

You felt yourself wanting to take a step towards him, wanting to just reach out to him as the tips of your fingers teemed with the longing you felt in your chest. "James," you began, your voice hushed. "It's not all your fault."

You meant it. To try and say to yourself that you had no part in all the confusion between the two of you would be a blatant lie, one that you couldn't let James go on believing, especially not with the pained look on his face.

He only shook his head at you. "It is," he insisted. "And here you go, being perfect towards me when I don't deserve it." A muscle worked overtime in his jaw. "Marlene was right. I was being selfish, and petty, and a lot of other things, but most importantly, I wasn't being a good friend." He paused, a grieving confliction tugging at his brow. "That's ... that's not what friends do."

You went still then too, the word 'friend' hanging in the air between you with a weight that only made you tired. The truth was that cobwebs had grown in the house where you'd fostered that unforgiving title, and it felt like some intangible force had locked you both inside with it blindly.

"Yeah, well," you began, your voice small, "we've been doing plenty of things that friends don't do, lately.Like you said, we kissed, right?" You let out a breathy sound like a laugh that lacked any joy, and the way James's eyes flickered up at you knocked the rest of the air right out of you.

"About that," he began hesitantly, and you could tell he was thinking about both the night it'd happened and that morning when you'd fought, just like you were. "I know you don't want that to mean anything, so it- ... it doesn't have to. Even if I want it to. Because it doesn't matter what I want—what matters to me is you."

You were thankful you had the couch next to you to brace a hand on, because you'd never felt so swept up by a conversation and you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the way your heart was nagging at you.

"You were right," swore James, but the slight shake of his eyes back and forth on your face didn't look as adamant as he sounded. "It's not fair for me to expect something from you when you already got over me."

The words you'd shouted at him in Hogsmeade that morning sounded foreign and wrong coming from his lips, and you knew the months of dishonesty that laced them like you knew the back of your hand.

"And it's too late now, I get that." His voice went from deep and determined to on the cusp of breaking, and it killed you. "I just want to know that you're happy, and if being happy means being with Vance instead of me, then ... I can deal with that."

You watched as he swallowed, like he was forcing the words to come from his lips even if it pained him. The way he hadn't broken eye contact with you the whole while was starting to make your head spin.

Your blinking sped up, maybe holding back the emotion you knew you was fighting to come out, and you whispered, "James."

Maybe you hadn't been loud enough, or maybe he just knew you'd try to disagree with him again, but he only continued determinedly at you.

"I know I probably went and ruined your chances with Vance, like an idiot, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you another date with him." He nodded at you once firmly, and within a second he was standing up, taking an intentional step forward. "Hell, I'll even go talk to him right now and-"

"James," you called again, louder this time. "Stop."

You put a hand out and it landed on his arm softly but firmly, and all you could was pray you could find the right words to say to him as he stared at you, level with you now in an unsteadying way.

"You didn't ruin my chances with Sebastian. It wouldn't have worked out regardless, even if I'd wanted it to. Because being with him isn't what I want." You shook your head, recalling back what James had said to you only moments before. "He wouldn't have made me happy." You sounded desperate now. "He's not you."

James stilled, his glistening eyes the only thing showing movement as they danced across your face intensely, though you saw them widen with something bright like hope. "What?"

The confusion of the word that he'd practically whispered out unspeakably attested to how you felt yourself, the terrain of the land you were exploring right there and then with James uncharted and rocky. You pushed on, knowing there was no going back now.

"Marlene wasn't completely right, James. She only said all of those things because I'd spent all this time trying to convince her—and myself—that I didn't still have feelings for you. But I do, clearly." You tipped your head down for a moment in exasperation and exhaustion, willing yourself to keep going. "Everyone can see it. All of our friends. Hell, even Sebastian could see it." You laughed, though your eyes were growing blurry. "So for me to try to push those feelings down any longer would just be lying to you and to myself." You let out an exasperated breath. "And I'm so sick of lying."

Your shoulders sunk as you stood there, a steadily shrinking distance between you and James that was both comforting and daunting to you. You couldn't do anything but watch as James's face stilled and then shifted as he thought, studying your own face in a way that made you conscious of every shift in your expression.

"I just," he began, and then raked a hand through his hair. "Why did you feel like you needed to hide how you felt in the first place?"

You felt your mouth go dry at the question—one you knew came only out of a desperate curiosity and nothing else—and your mind began spinning. The last few years of your friendship seemed to swirl in your head, flickering in and out of focus as you tried to come up with an answer.

"I-" you began, willing yourself to say something, anything at all. "I was scared." The words rang true so much that they made your heart pinch. "Scared that you wouldn't feel the same and I'd go and ruin everything. That I'd lose you."

James's hands lifted up from his sides like he wanted to reach out to you, and he did. He took your hand in his, grasping lightly at your fingertips in a touch that steadied you and made you feel lightheaded at the same time. He shook his head at you with a firm hold in his brow.

"You could never lose me."

His lips were parted, and his hazel eyes glistened over in the low common room lighting like the thought of your suggestion was painful enough on its own. Looking at him then, his face lined with years of a comforting, steadying familiarity, you knew deep in your chest that what he said was true. But that didn't alter all that you'd felt for the past number of years.

"It's not just that," you said, looking down at his hand that held yours and blinking away the guilt that crept into your stomach, because it wasn't James's fault that you had felt this way. "Even in Hogsmeade, James." Your voice was becoming unsteady again and it only frustrated you more. "What if everything you said you felt for me was just some spur-of-the-moment thing from some kiss? What if you didn't feel the same way a week from now? Or a month? I knew I wouldn't be able to get over that fear. Especially when I'd been hiding how I felt from you for years. And then there were your feelings for Lily to think about and ... I don't know."

You trailed off, finally able to stop yourself. You felt petty, so petty, because you were so close to getting what you knew your heart wanted, but you felt the insistent need to ruin things for yourself and think of every way things could go wrong. You'd never felt closer to James then, but also never farther away. All you could do was stand there and wait for him to say something, anything.

James stayed unmoving for a beat staring at you, wordlessly taking everything in with a fragility in the air that hallowed your labored breathing. Then he started to shake his head like he was in disbelief. He ran a hand through his brown hair.

"For Merlin's sake."

His voice was low, a mutter, and he stared at the ground for a moment in thought before dropping the hand that once held yours, turning and walking away from you, leaving up the steps to his dorm room. You watched his back as he disappeared, your fingertips feeling cold and empty.

You felt your blinking speed up in a dizzying confusion. You didn't know what had come over you, not even sure exactly what you'd said in all of your desperate rambling that had made him decide to leave, but your vision started to blur even more than it already had until you recognized the wetness forming beside your eyes.

Nothing made sense. Not then, and not in the last twenty-four hours. You moved until you were sitting down on the couch in front of you, feeling lightheaded as the fireplace crackled a few feet away. The light from outside had left with the sun and the room had a comforting kind of warm lighting, though even that did little to soothe you as you sat there with all the unresolved feelings within you.

You were confused and lost and wanted nothing more than to just fix things, but you were even more at a loss for words when you heard quick footsteps coming from the staircase James had left from, and then saw his returning form making its way down the steps.

You turned your head to him swiftly in confusion, following him and his soft but energetic steps as he came to sit next to you, and that was when you noticed he was holding something—a box. One that was tattered on the corners, its black fabric aged and dusting over.

You wiped at your eyes quickly, brows tugging in all your bewilderment as you waited for James to explain.

"I-" he began, and stopped as soon as his eyes focused more on your face. You must've looked as broken as you felt, and at seeing the look on your face, he held one of your hands in his before swiping across your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb.

You felt like wilting under his soft touch that you'd missed more than anything in the confusing weeks, mentally and physically exhausted from everything but still wanting more than anything to understand.

When you looked perhaps more stable, he looked back at the box that he'd set down beside him and placed it on his lap delicately as he spoke, his words echoing out slowly.

"I know you think I've just realized my feelings for you a week ago, and that they came from some kiss at a party. But, you have to believe me when I say that they're so much more than that." He placed the box in your hands, and you took it from him with a note of fragility, resting it atop your legs. His eyes bore into yours, like it would break him if you couldn't understand the words leaving his lips. He took a shaky breath in. "I need you to know, more than anything, that you're everything to me. You always have been."

Your lips began to shake at the earth-shattering words coming from your best friend's lips. "James, what-"

He stopped you with a gesture of his head that told you to look inside the box, and you did. Carefully, you lifted the flimsy cardboard top and placed it to the side, brows pulling together tight and something loud and hearty threatening to pull from your chest. You shook your head as tears began to well over your eyes again as you recognized what James had given you.

The box, the measly and old mess of cardboard and paper, was full of all the letters you'd written to him over the years—all the thank you notes, the letters you'd sent him from that summer and all the past ones—every single one of them. Your eyes raked over each of them when you felt too stunned to use your hands, but your heart still felt touched by the memories of each one all the same. It took everything in you not to release the sob you felt rising in your lungs.

"It's you. It's always been you."

James's eyes never left your face as you took everything in, the look behind them never having seemed so determined, so desperate. But there was something behind the way he looked at you, something so warm and honest, so familiar that you felt ridiculous for never noticing it before. And when your gaze flickered downward for a second in contemplation he tipped his head to follow it endearingly.

"Always," he promised. "Not Evans, not anyone else. I know I'm a bloody idiot, and I know I haven't been great at showing my emotions when it comes to you, but that's because it's you, and you mean everything to me and have since we were kids, and if this can't make you see that then I promise I'll spend every day trying to make up for it, and-"

"James." You stopped him, not knowing how much longer you could take sitting next to him and not getting rid of the frustrated crease between his brows, or how much longer you could ignore the thrum of your heart that called out to him so clearly now.

"Yeah?" he asked, and his eyes were like a deer in headlights. The warmth in their color reflected the simmering warmth from the fireplace, but that didn't compare to the fire that lay behind his gaze.

You placed the box, his box of the last six years of your friendship and then some, atop the couch next to you, and didn't wait another second before engulfing him in a hug. Your body crashed into his as he leaned back against the couch, his hands coming up to embrace you right away, and you heard him breathe a smile by your ear before he laughed, a perfect noise.

You felt like laughing then too, and crying, and everything else, because you couldn't remember the last time you'd gotten to hold him like this without the fear of revealing too much to him nagging at you. Your cheek pressed against his neck, his curls fanned against the top of your head, his hands held you tight, and you never wanted to leave the safety of his arms. Except to do one thing.

You pulled away from the hug and so did James after a second, his eyes wide and glistening but truly happy. He was smiling widely, his lopsided grin appearing after days like the sun after a storm, and you loved the sight more than anything, locking it away in the back of your mind as a memory you'd keep forever, like the box that sat next to you.

You laid a hand on his chest, another on his cheek, and James grasped the one that was flattened on his chest in his own, quickly glancing down at your hand in his like he couldn't believe he was holding it. He pulled you into him with it and leaned his head on yours.

"It's always been you, too," you whispered, and his eyes glanced down at your lips as you said the quiet words that'd been lingering on your lips for much too long. You had to push away your smile because you were aching to just kiss him like you'd wanted to for years. With a courage that could've only come from Godric himself, you finally did.

You leaned in until your lips met, a flutter of skin dancing shyly together until you leaned into him even further, and suddenly it felt like the crash of a wave, and sounded like the earth was moving beneath your feet, the sound of something right—and this time, you knew it felt the same for him too, because you could feel his boyish grin that you'd spent years admiring tugging against your lips.

You were kissing your best friend. For real this time. It felt so impossible for your mind to imagine such a thing, but luckily it didn't have to.

James moved his hands but they never left you, one sliding through your hair smoothly and one delicately holding your waist like you were something fragile. Butterflies fluttered through you at his touch, something familiar but foreign, wrong but also right, and somessilyperfect. You couldn't believe you'd spent all those years just a few words away from getting to feel it, getting to be surrounded by it.

You pulled away after a moment, your lips feeling puffy and burning with the heat of his kiss, but all you could think about was how free you felt, how happy you were that he was finally yours.

James looked down at you, his eyes dancing all across your face and stopping on your lips, and then somehow growing even warmer when they met yours again.

"I can't-" he began with a slight disbelieving shake of his head, voice coming out breathless and dazed as heat flushed into your own cheeks at the sight. "I can't believe..."

You laughed, feeling out of breath too, and adjusted the glasses that now perched crookedly on James's nose in an agonizingly cute way.

"Me neither," you finished for him, because you knew just how he felt, a secret the both of you shared; it was the only secret you still wanted to keep.

And it was a feeling you never wanted to have to live without again. Though now, with him in your arms and his familiar chocolate curls still brushing against your forehead, you knew you would never have to.

taglist!!

@hisparentsgallerryy @msmk11 @garfieldsladybird @empath-bunny @urmykindofwoman @bambi-jp @babyclea @kenjikishimotoswifey @cloudroomblog @the-marauders-mapp @mooonyxoxo @imgondeletedis @moon-flowerrs @fruticake @arey0usirius @marauroon @swiftsgirlfriend @jamieolivia27 @magicwithaknife

[belovedivies]

along the wind (bodyguard!peter x f!reader)

・゜・summary: Peter has made his way to the top by defying the odds his whole life; barely anything fazes him at this point. Yet when a glimpse of normalcy comes into his life in the form of a girl whose presence he initially apathizes, the crack in the Apostle’s stoicism starts to show.゜・* ・゜・tags: reader-insert, pre-canon, pre-rejuvenated peter, slice of life, fluff, slow burn, eventual romance, (my poor) attempt at humor, friends to lovers, typical-canon violence (mostly referenced cuz i suck at writing fight scenes)゜・* ・゜・notes: this work has multiple chapters! also cross-posted on my ao3 <3 title is from a song called "fly away" by jang yoon ju.゜・*

chapter 1: white strawberry and mint. ・゜・chapter content: bashing/washing, brief mention of drug. ・゜・word count: 1,268 ♡masterlist♡

“Tch, stop squirming so much will you?”

"That's easy for you to say, you took my last xanax!"

Peter, very much irritated, decides to ignore those words as he drags the washcloth down your spine. You really thought Glory's greatest asset would want to be stuck here babysitting a grown-ass woman in her early 20s, huh? You'd better fucking think again; with how bizarre this unconventional live-in assignment has been and is still going, Peter's mental gymnastics constantly blow hot and cold between wanting to protect you and wanting to strangle you. Anything to make your perpetual complaining go away, honestly. But as nice as the thought of making you shut up for good, the Cathedral's order to keep you safe is final, and he is but loyal to the organization that made him the powerful man he is today.

So the Apostle sucks it up, a sigh leaving his lips as one big hand closes a little tighter around your waist.

"You're recovering," Peter continues, the authority colors his tone even as his touch on your soaked back is undeniably gentle, "and the last thing I need is another headache of you OD'ing over off-label pills."

You let out a sound that falls somewhere between a gasp and a yelp. "I'm not an addict, ok?" That half-assed excuse almost has Peter rolling his eyes in pure frustration, his displeasure threatening to bubble over when you flounder on his lap like a fish out of water. "They're just my sleeping aid-"

“Aid or not ,” he cuts you off mid-sentence, “it doesn’t change the fact that you pop three xans per meal and barely function without them.” The last of his impatient reprimand is accompanied by foam-covered linen spreading the Olay body wash over the skin of your belly. Peter’s nose crinkles slightly at the sickening sugary scents of white strawberry and mint that assault his nostrils, but the man decides to keep his mouth shut.

And much to his surprise, so do you.

He’s relieved at your lack of resistance, or at least no more bitter remark. A huff leaves your lips, then nothing. Good, the Apostle is sure if this goes on, he’ll be scrubbing your wrinkly skin raw. Peter sets the washcloth aside and grabs the shower head, aiming the lukewarm stream of water at your body and clearing away the bubbles and remaining grime.

The water sloshes underneath your body as you draw up your legs; the tub isn’t small by any means, but Peter is aware of his size and how his large stature might be a little suffocating to you in terms of space. His grasp on your waist loosens, wanting to speed things up so you both can get out of here quicker. Yet the second the soap on your skin is washed away, the guy can't help but let his eyes linger on the scar on your lower thigh.

"What?" Peter hears you huff again, sounding uncomfortable despite your nonchalant expression. One of your hands moves down to conceal the healing wound, even if through the little cracks between your fingers, he can still make out the pinkish scar tissue.

"How are you feeling?" It's a genuine concern on his part.

"Um," your hesitation doesn't escape his notice, even palpably so when you start shifting awkwardly between his legs. Peter just wants to make sure, but he has no problem with dropping the topic if it irks you. That is what he thinks, but you finish the sentence, "better?"

So it doesn't hurt anymore, at least not as badly as it used to. The man lets out a low hum, then turns his head to hang the showerhead into its wall-mount bracket.

"No hair wash?" Are you serious right now? Peter rolls his eyes for real—an act he's very much acquainted with in the past six weeks living here—before facing you.

"No hair wash," there you go again with that annoying pout. Really makes him wonder how the hell you two are the same age, "I won't have you lazing around in here for more than 30 minutes."

Sensing an upcoming brainless argument, the raven-haired assassin stands up and walks out of the bath, taking you with him. He promptly ignores the way you yelp when one right hand grazes a ticklish spot on your nape to keep you still, instead reaching for two towels sitting on the sink. Peter wraps one of them around his waist and focuses on patting you dry with the other. There's a bored look on his face while you just stand there, grumbling under your breath about how you can do this on your own. Brat.

"Put this on." He draps the towel over your shoulders and hands you a fresh set of clothes for the night. Only when you take them does he start putting on his own; a moment of silence follows, save for the rustling of fabric. It’s oddly calming, and even though he has used to going through days without a wink of sleep, Peter feels his eyes getting droopy as he puts on his grey hoodie; the day’s exhaustion finally catching up.

You let out a yawn, putting your hand on his shoulder for support while you slip on a pair of cotton slippers. Now he just has to wait for you to finish up.

“Hey, Peter…”

“Hm?”

The guy looks over his shoulder when you call out his name. This time, you don’t meet his gaze, instead staring down on the floor as you scrawl with one foot.

”Sorry for my mini tantrum earlier.” You gulp, and was that shame he just heard? ”You were just trying to do your job…”

Peter cocks an eyebrow. He isn’t mad at you, per se—the smirk on his lips giving away his rare playfulness—more like the usual light-hearted annoyance (that makes him want to choke you due to how stubborn you are sometimes, but that’s out of the question). You’re still 97% better than most people the Apostle had encountered in his line of work, and that is to say out of the other 3% he didn’t fumble (or kill), you’re the girl who happens to fit the closest to society’s definition of normal.

Not that he cares about what people think, anyway.

“A-And I acted out like a child…” He’s half-expecting another sorry, but you keep your head down in silence. You must be waiting for his answer then, so the guy decides to give you an easy way out; the further teasing comment that is about to leave his mouth can be saved for another time.

”Aside from the occasional migraines you gave me,” Peter smiles, putting a hand on your head as he starts ruffling your hair. "you're not too bad yourself. Apology accepted."

You mirror his mirth, though only for a brief second. Schooling your expression into a mask of faux frustration, you huff and try to pry his hand off. “Right right, now stop would ya? You’re gonna mess up my hair!”

Again, sleep comes first. As fun as it is to taunt you, Peter needs to get you to bed. Tuck you in… is that what it is called? The Apostle mentally cringes at the term; Father Gabriel really did land him into babysitting his niece.

“Right… let’s go.” He settles for giving your head one last pat before motioning you to walk towards the door connected to your bedroom. The distance is short, but Peter knows you’ll be there when he turns around.

Tomorrow will just be another day.

[therealflickerman]

Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part four

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

______________________________________________________________

chapter summary: You try your hardest to hide what you can from Peter though you can't help when secrets slip through your fingers.

word count: 6.5k (i cooked a little)

chapter contents: angst?, mention of death, mention of parental death, mention of cancer, reader is described to b shorter than Flash (6’1),  reader is intended to be fem! , language, reader is anxious and a mess, bullying kinda?

note: hi guys!!! This chapter is like INSANELY late but it's also the longest chapter by far so I hope I’ve made it up to you guys… This chapter gets only a little deep but I hope you enjoy how I've written the reader and her mum and I hope I've done the themes justice!!! 

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four (ongoing!)

“Maths, History, Bio” the words quietly slip past your lips as you count your textbooks carefully, ensuring each and everyone of them are there. Pressing your forehead against the cool of your locker, your eyes flutter shut and you draw a sharp breath, holding it in for a split second before finally releasing it alongside your jaw, clenched shut almost painfully. You pull away from the safety of the metal, words role over in your mind as you prepare for the day,

BAM

Your locker slams inches from your face. 

The loud bang of metal against metal rings through the busy hallway drawing the attention of a couple stray students, including yourself as you jump back softly, your hands clenching around your textbooks extra tightly as they threaten to slip through your fingers.

Your eyes flick to the perpetrator and you feel your jaw clench as nerves buzz in your fingertips. 

“What Flash,” 

It slips softly past your lips before you can stop yourself and anxiety turns in your gut as you wish you’d simply ignored him.

“I was wondering what you were doing tonight,”

His eyes watch you eagerly, like he’s hungry for the reaction you’ll inevitably give him. 

You swallow the anxiety that grows a lump in your throat and turn to head for the serenity of your History class. You have to remind yourself that he wants the reaction, he’s starving for it. 

He’s quick to follow you, sending a look to his friends that gather in a circle a little way across the hall. You hear the familiar sound of soft snickers and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

Trying your hardest to keep a poker face you press your lips into a tight line, you’d rather set yourself on fire than give Flash a reaction to laugh about with his stupid friends. 

“I know you’re probably super busy with all those friends you have, so I just wanted to check,”

His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, you fight an expression that threatens to grow on your face. You won’t give him the satisfaction, you entirely refuse. 

Keeping focused on the goal of your History classroom, you swerve through the other students that crowd the halls.

“C’mon,”

He just about corners you against the lockers as you walk shoulder to shoulder with them, dribbling his basketball he follows closely, the sound rings out obnoxiously much as his voice does. 

You can’t seem to find your voice, you keep your eyes ahead and continue on track, praying silently for him to leave you alone, the interaction turns our gut and you slip your lip between your teeth where it belongs. 

“C’mon, stop walking away from me,” 

His voice raises slightly, his hand coming out in front of you and you’re quick to stop in your tracks. His palm leans against the locker as he looks down at you through his eyelashes. He waits eagerly for a reaction, practically starved for it. 

You kiss your teeth with a clench of your jaw, as you try to slip from the barrier he’s created and a laugh bubbles from his chest as you hand feed him what he’s been waiting for. 

“Flash,”

A shot of relief floods your veins, it’s sweet, almost addictive, and your eyes seek the face to match that voice you know all too well. 

“Can’t you see we’re talking Parker,”

Flash shoots Peter a grin, not particularly concerned with convincing him of anything.

“Does she know that?”

Peter asks, his tone sardonic. 

Flash rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth as he turns to look at his surroundings. A frustrated sigh bubbles in his chest as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it with a clench of his jaw, not bothered to start anything especially as so many teachers roam the halls, rushing students to their classes. 

He turns back to you, sending a wink as he slips away, quick to walk back to his friends that await him. It’s as if they crave the humiliation they give other people, it’s their life source and you feel gross just thinking about it. 

A soft groan slips past your lips, “thank you.”

He offers a shrug, a smile sat upon his lips as he watches you. His gaze is sweet, it's night and day compared to Flash’s hungry eyes. Your feet scuff against the vinyl as you slip next to him, far less eager to get to class this time around. 

“He will just not leave me alone you know? It’s kind of getting embarrassing on his part, like he does the same bit everyday. I don’t think he has a whole lot going on up there, not super creative.” 

You mumble softly, a grin slipping onto your face, Peter shakes his head with a laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure he’s got a little brain damage from all that sport so don’t take it to heart,”

He draws a giggle from your lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever taken anything he’s said to heart.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you make it to class. Words roll around on your tongue, you fight to push them out. 

“I was thinking maybe you’d wanna…  would you wanna study again tonight?” The words slip out. 

The two of you had spent many afternoons of the past week at the library, your noses between books, studying your hearts out before grabbing coffee, if you're honest it’s the most productive you’ve been in a long while. You hate to give him his praise but having someone as genius as Peter to bounce ideas off of has opened a whole new playing field and you’re not sure you can go back to ten minute mind blanks and groans of frustration. 

On the other hand you’ve never been more busy in your typically lacklustre life, you feel a bit like Spiderman yourself with all the running around you’ve found yourself managing. It was school, then work, or study, or both. Then home, just in the nick of time, all for Spiderman to swing you through the city before returning you to your bed at some ungodly hour. It was… nice, at least it was exciting, something vastly different compared to the eat, sleep, school repeat you’ve known for the past few years of your life. 

“Yeah of course, I was gonna ask anyway, so-”

“Maybe you could… um come to my place instead of the library?”

You spit out, cutting Peter off.

“My mums gonna be home, like, kinda early tonight so she’s um… making, like, a nice dinner and I thought you could join us?”

The words flow quickly and you’re unable to stop them as they spew from your lips, 

“I’d love to,”

He hums, a soft smile curling onto his lips

“I’m sure you would, ‘can put my address in your stalker journal,”

A scoffed laugh spits from his lips as his grin grows.

“How do you know I don’t already know where you live,”

“I’d be a little worried if you already knew where I lived,”

______________________________________________________________

Your foot taps rapidly against the concrete floor, a spit of anxiety turning in your stomach as your eyes dart around the city. ‘Please god do not show up,’ you watch with furrowed eyes for a flash of red and blue. 

“You waiting on someone?”

The voice rips you from your contraction and you jump slightly as you turn to find Peter and his stupid grin

“Only you,”

You swallow the lump in your throat and a smile plays across your face. 

“How was photography?”

Your eyes flick to his face, watching him as the two of you make the slow walk to the subway. 

“Good,” he hums with a smile, “I got an A+ on that assignment,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it were nothing, though you personally know he’d practically pulled his hair out with stress over it. 

“Look at you go, Mr Humble,” you nudge him softly, “bet you picked the photo I told you to go with,” 

You lend him a grin and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

“That is a possibility.”

“Hey, you’ll… you’ll tell me if Flash bothers you more?”

Peter mumbles softly, he swallows, feeling stupid as the question slips from his lips, though it spills anyway.

You watch his face, giving him a suspicious eye as a grin tugs at your lips. 

“You gonna do something about it?”

He rolls his eyes, his head shaking,“I might.” 

You hum suspiciously with a nod and it's followed by a giggle. 

“Hey you don’t know what I’m capable of,”.

“I know Flash is, like, a six foot one athletic scholar,” 

He leans his softly, “yeah but I have something he doesn’t,”

“What would that be Peter?”

“A brain.” 

You roll your eyes and push his face away with the palm of your hand. 

The sound of the city seeps into the subway carriage, it’s fairly empty and just about silent besides the racket of Peter’s voice as he talks of his next photography assignment, very passionately if you may add. He thinks it's stupid that they grade photography, he believes art is immeasurable, whether he’d simply rather an easier class or is genuinely passionate about the topic you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips as he rambles. Either way it ‘isn’t like he has room to complain, the fact that it is in fact graded means he gets to be top of his class’, you roll your eyes as he tells you he’s only joking. 

You find yourself slowly drifting, your eyes keep on him as you mind wonders and a small smile finds itself on your lips.  

If it weren't for Peter you’d be sitting alone right now, packed into whatever carriage you had found. You’d listen to music loud enough to hurt your ears and you’d pick at your nails, or maybe you’d let your teeth at your lower lip. Your brain would mull over the day and you’d swallow the anxieties that pile themselves in your throat. 

“Am I boring you?”

Peter's face comes into focus, his smile is sweet as he watches you drift off.

“No! no no no… sorry,” you swallow with a blink, “sorry I got lost in thought,” you shake your head with an apology, “continue.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest and he shakes his head softly, “you’re good, I get um… I think I get a little too excited about photography sometimes.”

“Oh god no, I like hearing about your photography, trust me. It's refreshing to hear someone my age be so passionate about something,” Your tone couldn’t be more genuine.

“Really?” He smiles and you return it with a nod. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the subway's intercom system announces your stop, “I’m sorry I am. I promise I’m interested but this is our stop,”

You mumble with an apologetic expression as you stop him before he can speak. He giggles with a soft, “okay.” 

______________________________________________________________

Peter's voice reverberates through the quiet backstreets as you both walk side by side, heading back to your apartment. He talks of how he got into photography, how he enjoys being able to capture a moment in time, he views it as a sacred process. You watch his face light up as he speaks and you can’t help the bright grin curled onto your lips, unconsciously matching the smile on his face. You listen intensely as he speaks so passionately.

You’re grateful for the moment, there's no weird tension between the two of you, no bickering or teasing, you’re not on your toes trying to keep up with his stupid remarks. You’re simply indulged in his words, in a part of his mind that he’s sharing with you. 

Your grin grows. 

“What about you, what are you like… into?” he asks, his tone almost catches you off guard, it’s sickeningly sweet. 

You have to think for a moment, “um I don’t know… nothing I guess,” a shrug pulls at your shoulders.

“C’mon there's gotta be something.”

You think of the eat, sleep, school repeat cycle you’ve been living for the past however many years, each day full of so much nothing. Looking back you genuinely do wonder what you did to pass the time and nothing comes to mind.

The only things that happen in your life are Peter and Spiderman, and you can’t say, ‘actually you’re my hobby. And also Spiderman, don’t know if you’ve heard of him.’ 

“Hmm, nope, nothing, I study… I… I don't know, I work.” You shrug.

‘What about the posters on the wall, the music you’re always listening to, the movies you’re always watching at night,’ the words dangle on his tongue and he bites down, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I don’t believe that,” he opts for this. 

“Believe it, you’ve befriended a bore,” 

He rolls his eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips as he denies this. You’re being stubborn.

“Believe what you want, it's the truth.”  You shrug. 

He hums softly, his eyes keep on you and the remains of a smile stay evident on his lips.

______________________________________________________________

The familiar apartment building comes into view, he swallows softly, and can’t seem to pull his eyes from your face. He rolls over words in his mind, ‘you’ve never been in her room, you don’t know which apartment is hers, etc.’ He almost feels sick at the thought of slipping up.

“You’d think big hot shot Oscorp would pay well enough for an apartment complex but I guess one income slows us down.” 

You send your shoulder into the weighted door and lend an awkward smile as you hold the door for him, mumbling an apology about the climb to the fifth story.

“Your mum works at Oscorp?” he asks softly, there's something else to his tone and you can’t quite place it. You ultimately decide to blame it on the stairs, despite not being a quarter way to the top. 

“You got a problem with Oscorp?” you tease, looking to the step behind you as you watch Peter make the climb with ease.

“No, no, it’s just… I don’t know,” He curses himself as no answer comes to mind, god he’s already slipped up. His heart beats softly against his chest and he releases a breath as you hum, dropping it.

“Well she loves it, that's why she’s out so late almost every night, they’re working on this um, DNA thing… I don’t know, her boss is missing an arm, it's, like, something to do with that. You ask her about it at dinner, she’ll love you forever.”

His breath catches in his throat and it’s followed by a gross feeling that spins his gut, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his cheek as you mention doctor Curtis Connors.

He tries to not let it bother him, in fact he feels guilty that it does, it’s not as though you’re his problem. 

His mind flicks to the suit in his backpack, maybe he doesn’t have a choice in whether you’re his ‘problem’ or not anymore. 

“Geez Peter I didn’t know you worked out, you haven’t even broken a sweat.” You huff, conquering the last step. 

Yes, you may over exaggerate but five stories of stairs is enough to make anyone a little breathless. “I work out,” he scoffs with a small smile. You take one look up and down, eyes trailing across his tall lanky build. With a raise of an eyebrow,  you hum a soft “Mhm”. He rolls his eyes and it pulls a giggle from your lips. 

Your hands fumble around in your pocket and you pull out your house key, wiggling it around in the old lock before it finally opens with a heavy shove of the door. 

“Hey mum!” You call out softly, holding the door open for Peter. Your mother stands in the kitchen, she’s chopping vegetables and humming along to soft music as it plays from her own old record player, she’s got it on her fifteenth birthday and she adores the thing. 

“Hey love,” She hums, her eyes flicking up from the task at hand. 

“Oh and this must be Peter.” 

You send her a pressed smile, widening your eyes as if to say, ‘embarrass me and I will kill you,’ though she retaliates with a little wink and you groan. 

“I’ve heard so much about you Peter,” she continues to cut carrots. 

Peter sends you a smug grin. 

“You have?”

“Oh for sure, all good things… most good things,” she hums with a shrug and a smile. 

“I’m just glad she’s making friends-”

“Okay mum, we’re gonna go study,” You cut her off with a tight smile, she laughs with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand, “have fun!” 

“I’m sorry about her,” You huff with a smile, the tips of your ears burn and you feel yourself blushing. 

You lean your school bag against your bed and let him know he can put his stuff anywhere. 

Walking over to your desk, he leans his bag against the leg before settling comfortably into the seat.

Your brows furrow with a small smile, watching him as you take a seat against your bed. “You have a habit of making yourself comfortable,” you giggle with a shake of your head. 

“Oh I… sorry I, remember you saying you always study on your bed.” Nerve drips from his words as he sits up right. 

“No no, you’re good,” you smile with a shake of your head, “and you’re right,” you pull your things from your bag, setting stuff out the way you like it. 

He curses himself silently, ‘you’ve never been here before Peter,’ he reminds himself and his eyes scan your room, his sight falls on your posters,  the one he’d seen almost twice a night for the past week or so.

“Nice posters,” he hums.

Your eyes flick up as he speaks, the way he says it scratches a nerve in your brain, like it was familiar. 

You hum softly flipping open your Bio textbook, “thank you, it’s taken me ages to collect them all.”

Peter swallows dryly. 

“You said you didn’t have any hobbies,” his eyes keep on you. 

“Collecting posters isn’t… doing something though, like… writing or… taking photos,” you point to him with your pencil. 

“I guess…” He sits for a moment. “What about watching movies, I mean you’ve gotta love ‘em to have this many posters,” 

“Eh, I don’t think that counts”

“Oh c’mon that totally counts”

“Does it?” you shrug. 

“Whatever, we'll find you something.”

You look up to him with a smile, he gets his stuff out, placing it on your desk. 

“You know I am good at one thing…” You mumble, his head shoots up, “it’s called studying, and it’s going to help me get into a very nice university so that I can be good at things for money” 

You tease, drawing a humoured scoff from Peter. 

The two of you sit for a good while, faces buried in books, bouncing ideas and questions off of one another as you scribble messy notes. Stupid jokes and shared giggles pull the both of you from study, for minutes at a time you clutch your stomachs in laughter, textbooks forgotten until you find your way back on track. It leaves your stomach muscles beat, exhausted from curling in on itself as huffs of giggles slip from your lips. 

You now watch as he reads a particular section of his textbook, faced away from you with his eyes focused so desperately on the page, your teeth seek your lip, sinking into its flesh without mercy. A feeling settles deep in your gut, turning your stomach and all of sudden you feel ill, despite it you can’t seem to pull your eyes from the brown haired boy. It’s all too familiar but you refuse it, swallowing dryly before you can bring yourself to put a name to the feeling. 

Peter can feel you staring, he can feel the intensity of your gaze burning into his temple, a feeling he’s grown accustomed to. He’s not sure if it’s his ‘Spidey-Senses’ or because he just knows you but he can feel it. Maybe it's a mix of both with all the time he’s spent with you, with all the time you’ve spent on his mind. 

A smile tugs on his lips and he can’t seem to stifle it as it grows into a grin. 

Your eyes flick back down to your page, you practically wrangle them there. The lump in your throat is stubborn, no matter how much you swallow it sits there stubbornly and you try your best to ignore it. Now is not the time, your eyes flick up once again, especially as he sits in your desk chair, slumped over with his nose in his textbook, innocently in his own world and doing his school work just as you should be. 

The rapid knock of your door pulls you from thought, “dinners ready love,” your mum's voice calls out muffled through the wood. “M’kay,” you hum, loud enough for her to hear it, letting out a silent huff, a poor attempt at settling the unplaceable feeling in your stomach. 

A stiff silence settles over the three of you, broken by the sound of quiet chewing and cutlery scraping against your mothers ‘nice’ dinner plates. You’re all packed onto a small dining table, designed for just two people, your knee brushes against Peters and you meet his eyes with a silent apology. 

“So I um, heard you work at Oscorp,” He swallows, keeping his eyes on you before flicking them to your mother with a smile.

“Oh yeah? She told you about that huh,” your mother sends you a grin.

“I mean they’re doing insane work, really I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but it’s just so fascinating.” 

Peter nods along, you can’t help the smile that clings to your lips, unable to draw your eyes from him as he entertains your mother’s chattering.

“Its um… well lizards, right, they can regrow limbs, it's really quite fascinating, comes from years of evolution and adapting, I’ll spare the boring details,” she waves a dismissive hand, “we’re taking this aspect of their DNA and attempting to create a serum that can prompt human cells into preforming blastema-based regeneration. What that means is-”

“Mum Peter is like a grade A genius, don't worry,” you mumble, cutting her off. 

His lips curl into a smile, and he meets your eyes as you return the grin. 

“So you like science Peter?” Your mum asks. 

“Oh yeah, I um.. I love it,” He wears a lopsided smile, as he fumbles to answer the question. He watches you in the corner of his vision, checking to see if he’s said the right thing, and another grin slips onto your lips. You eye him as he stumbles over his words, looking for your approval and you lend a soft nod as your smile grows. 

“So that’s what you wanna do? Go into science I mean,” She asks, taking a fork full of food in her mouth. 

“Well I, um…”

“Peter’s actually a really talented photographer, so he’s still working things out.” You hum with a nod, sensing the nerves radiating off of him, he sends a grateful smile. 

“Oh yeah? My husband loved photography.”

You flinch a little at her words as she mentions your dad. It was true, he had spent a lot of his life taking photos, they were amazing too. He had never turned it into a career though, you had assumed it was because of some moral obligation he had to take care of you and your mum, he refused to even entertain the idea in fear of halving the household funds and leaving the both of you struggling, well look where you are now. 

Peter sends you a look, a quick flick of his eyes and you know what it represents. You opt to lend a small smile with nothing behind it, it’s a poor attempt at returning to any form of normalcy you could get your hands on and he returns it, submitting to this attempt. 

You make a note to talk to Peter about your dad later, it wasn't as though you had tried to hide any of… what had happened, it just never came up. Maybe deep down you liked it that way and maybe in a way you had tried to hide it, though you’re quick to swallow any guilt that threatens to build as you return to the normalcy that you and Peter had silently decided upon. 

Peter clears his throat with a hum. “Yeah, I just… love having the ability to capture a moment in time, I think it helps me get a grasp on reality. I would spend all my time taking photos if I could.”

Your mum hums with a smile and a soft nod, of course she liked that answer. She’s so insanely passionate sometimes that it scares you, up until two am most nights working on her research, not eating all day just to purely save time, you’re not sure how she’s still running. Seeing her daughter hanging out with someone at all, let alone someone so driven, is probably sending her insane with pure relief. 

“As long as you’re passionate about whatever you do,” Your mum nods, taking a sip of her wine glass. 

You smile with a shake of her head, she’s so predictable, it's sweet. You’re grateful for her, god, more than grateful for her, you’re not sure where on earth you’d be without her. 

“Oscorp isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, the field of science is very dangerous if you ever do go into it. The other day Peter-” she leans in with another sip of her wine, “there was this giant lizard monster god, I don’t know what he was but he injured about ten people, I’m sure you heard it on the news, that Spiderboy was there.”

“It’s Spiderman mum, and that isn’t because you work in science it's because you live in New York.” You correct her with a roll of your eyes, it was a conversation the two of you had had about five times since that night and if you heard about how ‘Spiderboy’ had made the whole situation worse one more time you’re sure you’d rip your hair out. 

“I don’t care what his name is, he totaled my car,” “The lizard did mum, not Spiderman, he’s just trying to help-”

Peter can’t stop the grin that curls at his lips as you unknowingly defend him. He watches as you toy with your food, giving up as your mother insists that Spiderman is doing more harm than good. 

“What do you think Peter, about this ‘Spiderman’ I mean,” Your mum hums, taking another bite of her food. His eyes flicker to you, and he hesitantly gives his opinion, “I think that he does good where he can…at least I think he intends to. I mean think about what could have happened if he wasn't there.”

You nod stubbornly with a fold of your arms, “Exactly.”

Your mum rolls her eyes with a small smile and a shrug as she washes down the food in her mouth with a sip from her glass, “I guess,” she mumbles hesitantly and you too roll your eyes with a giggle. 

Peter smiles, his eyes keeping on you. “What got you working at Oscorp,” He takes a sip of his water. 

“Well I always adored science, all through school. I graduated, y’know researched with a couple of small corporations near home. Then, after her dad died, I just decided lifes too short, I quickly applied to Oscorp, we moved here, and the rest is history.” 

There it is. 

An unease settles in your stomach and your focus turns to the food chewing in your mouth, it doesn’t really bother you, at least that's what you tell yourself. It was obvious your dad wasn’t around anymore, for one reason or another, but it felt too vulnerable for him to know that he was actually dead. The thought rolls around in your head and you swallow it with your dinner. You had planned to tell Peter, though it isn’t like you need to, you don't owe it to him. Still, you feel something build in your stomach as you realise that maybe you had actively avoided it in conversation, maybe even lied during the process and you quickly realise you’re filled with some sick mix of embarrassment and guilt.

You feel Peter glancing at you, his gaze is soft and his eyes flick between you and your mother as she continues to talk and he continues to nod along. You meet his eyes, deciding that facing whatever you’re feeling is far less embarrassing than closing up like you’re used to. You can’t place the emotions behind his eyes but nevertheless he offers a smile, it’s void of pity and you realise that deep down that was what you feared most from his reaction. You return the smile, it’s grateful though you don’t particularly mean for it to be, and the two of you once again silently agree to bask in normality until dinner is over. 

______________________________________________________________

The both of you sit on your bed in silence, it's comfortable but there’s an all too familiar feeling of anxiety settled in your stomach. Your mind rolls over words, they hang on the tip of your tongue as you wrack your brain on how to start the conversation. 

“When I was six my parents went on a work trip and never came back,” Peter lets out, taking the blow for you. His eyes find you, you’re focused on the tips of your fingers as they fiddle with one another. He hears your breathing hitch, your heartbeat speed up, he watches as you try to find the words. 

“Pet-”

“My Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in, and then…. a couple of months ago Ben was killed in a robbery,” 

You shut your mouth tightly, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your cheeks as you fight to find the words and suddenly you don’t feel so angry at each relative that told you ‘they were sorry’ and ‘they were here for you,’ because… what do you say?

You swallow, your teeth unlatching around your cheek, and open your mouth to speak once again, 

“I just mean… you don’t have to feel weird or… I don’t know, ashamed about it… okay? Not with me.” 

His voice is soft, his eyes watch you so intensely, it’s like he’s looking at you for the first time, like really looking at you. Noticing each wrinkle in your expression, each imperfection that litters your skin, although this time it’s with his own two eyes, not shrouded by the mask he was once so grateful for.

“He died when I was fifteen…it was um, cancer,” you nod softly, keeping your eyes down, you’re not too sure why but it feels better, easier to talk, like you can breathe. 

“We packed up, like, straight away and mum immediately started working for Dr Connors. She thinks that she can like, find a cure or… I don’t know…” You curse yourself for rambling about it as you realise this wasn’t one of the venting circles in one of the libraries your mum had signed you up to. 

You swallow, biting the bullet and looking up to meet Peter's eyes. You’re not entirely sure what you had expected but when you finally meet them you don’t find the look of condolence that you’ve grown so accustomed to. You find a pure mix of kindness and worry and it spins your gut, this time with gratitude. 

You lend him a smile, it’s grateful, and understanding, it tells him what you don’t trust your words to and he returns it sweetly. 

“Even in dead relatives I’m ahead of you,” he elbows your arm and it's noticeably more gentle than usual.

A laugh bubbles in your chest and you shake your head with an eye roll. 

“Oh my god,” you hum and it draws a giggle from his lips. 

“You’re close with your aunt?” You ask gently as the laughter dies down between the two of you, you’ve found peace within his eye sight as you keep steady eye contact with him for maybe the first time since you've known him. 

He hums with a nod of his head and a smile curls onto his lips. It’s sweet. 

“You’re close with your mum?” He asks, his tone is almost cautious, though he doesn’t mean it to be. He had spent a whole hour at your dinner table and still couldn’t grasp the dynamic between the two of you. 

You hum a soft laugh with a nod of your head, “yeah, we are. It’s… complicated, my dad’s death fucked with her super bad but she’s still my best friend, kind of my only friend.”

He smiles, a sound of understanding slips from his lips. 

“Were you um… close with your dad?” He prays he hasn’t overstepped a line, his teeth catch on his lips as the words slip from them and he feels oddly close to you as he sinks teeth into flesh. 

You smile, looking down at your hands, “yeah… super close,” it’s all you say though he takes it with gratitude. 

“What about you, were you close with your parents, with your Uncle?” You look back up at him and meet his eyes, they never seem to leave you, it’s something you’d noticed. 

He nods, a smile slipping onto lips much like you had done. “My parents died when I was pretty young so, yes… but also no.” You nod along, watching him closely. “But I was super close with Ben.” You feel like maybe you opened something you shouldn't have as you remember that it hasn’t been long since his passing. You watch the creasing in Peter's expression and you quickly feel guilt fill your stomach as your own brows furrow. 

“I’m sorry Peter I shouldn’t-”

“No, god no I asked first- no, don’t do that,” His soothes quietly, shutting down your guilt. 

You nod softly as he continues.

“He was like a dad to me so… yeah.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the air filled with a feeling of understanding and the both of you settle into it. 

“I should um, maybe get going,” He mumbles, it’s a cop out, the both of you know it, the both of you have become accustomed to it. 

“You can stay Peter,” 

His almost frantic movements stop, his eyes find yours, he wouldn't go as far as to say they’re begging but they’re big and asking him to stay in the warmth of your room and who is he to say no to you. 

“We can watch a movie… or-”

“I would really like that.”

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes glance over to him, his face lit up by the screen of your laptop. The two of you sit comfortably in your bed, backs propped up against the wall, an awkwardly large space between the two of you, you’re overly conscious of it as you try your hardest to keep your eyes on the screen and your limbs to yourself. In your uncomfort your eyes flick to your watch, checking the time and your stomach turns with anxiety as a thought pops into your head. You frantically flick your eyes to the window, trying your hardest to keep your ‘cool’ exterior in front of Peter though you’re now busy attempting to prepare for the inevitable. There hasn’t been a night in the past week where Spiderman hasn’t shown up at your window cill, absolutely bursting to tell you about his night. Many nights he’d sit in the very chair Peter had, chatting your ear off for hours until you had to shoo him from your room to save at least four hours of sleep before you had to get up for school. You swallow your nerves, taking a deep breath, soft enough for Peter to miss it, at least you hope he misses it, and you try to make up some sort of plan.

Peter was… cool about it, he appreciated what Spiderman did. He actually never really spoke about him, in fact he was a little weird about him, though you’re not complaining, if Peter tried to subtly shut down most conversations about him, it meant you didn’t need to subtly avoid most conversations about him. 

You’re only now realising it seemed like a sensitive topic and you pray to god Spidey didn’t have some unfortunate involvement with his uncle's death, that would make it a little awkward if, or when, he shows up at your window. 

You swallow, bringing your eyes back to the movie, you’re choosing to push all rational thoughts out of your mind as you do so, you’re going to sit here and focus on the film and not focus on how you wouldn’t be able to hand another of your secrets getting spilt, not that you had any others to spill after Spidey. 

Peter's eyes watch you in his peripheral vision, watching as your vision linger on the window cill. 

“Shit,” the word slips from his lips before he can stop it and it instantly catches your attention.

“What's up?” You ask, sitting up gently. 

Fuck, he curses himself silently though he quickly realises he’s given himself the perfect out. “I just realised that May said she wanted me home half an hour ago, I’m so sorry, I-” he jumps from your bed. 

“You’re fine, really. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Your voice comes out far more enthusiastic than you had hoped for and you cringe as the words leave your lips. 

Peter nods with a sheepish smile, backpack in hand as he stands at your bedroom door, “thank you for having me,” he mumbles. His words are genuine and the feeling in your gut that you entirely refuse to recognise is back, nagging at your heart. 

“No problem,” you hum softly, returning the sheepish smile. 

He’s gone in a flash, with a slam of your door, a little harder than he had anticipated, and a soft ‘sorry!’ from the other side of the wood. You let out a breath of relief, your teeth sinking into your lip as you do so. Your mind plays over the day as you slip your laptop into your school bag and lay on your bed. You’re grateful Peter knows about your dad, at least you think you are. It makes you feel vulnerable, he can take one look at the life you lead and understand why you are, where you are, now that he has the missing piece of the puzzle. You guess it goes both ways, though he seems so put together and you quickly become jealous over how well he’s able to hide his grief, then again you know it isn’t something to wish for and you swallow as you remind yourself that there are so many parts of him that you don't see.

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[whenlilyfallsinlove]

jolene part 3

you guys the love for this series (which wasn't even meant to be a series!) is insane!!! tysm to everyone who has read it! tags for people who wanted a part 3: @girllety @simping4-2manyppl @penny-exe @hisparentsgallerryy @superxovas

"it's done. it's over." your voice interrupted remus from his book, after hearing your voice he looked up to see you. you looked.. dishevelled? and quite out of breath. that was probably because you had sprinted to the library as fast as you could, as you knew remus would be there.

ever since the night of the party, you had felt closer to remus. like he understood how you felt, more than james could for sure.

"you what?" remus responded. he was hoping you meant that you and james were done, but he scanned your face, and there were no signs of sadness, so surely you couldn't have meant that?

"me and james?" you said, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"WHAT?!" remus shouted, a bit too loudly, resulting in madame pince sending a dirty look your way. you were.. done? is it bad that his day had suddenly got better?

"yeah." you sigh, and take the seat beside him. you itched your chair close to him, probably so you didn't get kicked out of the library for speaking too loud. the closeness of the two of you, however, made remus' breath hitch.

"merlin.. are you.. are you okay?" he asked you, more quietly.

"i mean.. i suppose. i'm sad because i loved him but i was the one to break up with him.."

"you broke up with him?" remus interrupted, eyes widened.

"why is that such a surprise to you?" you teased.

"it's not it's not, sorry, carry on." he said frantically, a bit flustered.

"i told him.. that it was obvious that his heart wasn't with me.. and i didn't want to be in a relationship with someone like that." you recount.

"what did he say?" remus asked, he knew that he would probably get whatever james' perspective was later that night.

"he denied it, the tosser. we all know it's true. i even told him i wouldn't be mad about it!" you shake your head.

"i would be mad about it." remus said.

"yeah i would've been, but i wasn't going to tell him that." you chuckle.

"fair enough." he smiles at your laughter.

"then i.. i think i did something stupid.. i told him it'd be okay if he liked lily." you mutter.

"y/n, why on earth did you do that?" remus looked at you, exasperated.

"because!" you put your hands up, defensively. "i just.. i don't know, i'd feel better about it if we both moved on."

both moved on. both moved on. both. what did you mean by that? were you ready to move on? no surely, you couldn't be. if james moved on, would you? no no. wait. lily was one of your close friends, by giving james permission to like her, then maybe.. james would let him date you? a million thoughts ran through his head at once.

"well.." remus finally speaks, clearing his throat. "you're too nice for your own good."

for some reason, you felt your cheeks heat up. what was wrong with you? you broke up with your boyfriend a mere fifteen minutes ago, and now you were blushing at his best friend's compliments.

"thanks remus." you smile cheekily at him.

"it's alright, are you staying?" he asks you, almost hopeful.

"sorry remus, i can't, got a detention for "harassing malfoy"." you pull a face.

"i'll see you around though, thanks for always listening." you place a hand on his arm.

"it's uh n-no problem." he smiles, nervously.

"see you later!" remus watches you turn and leave, a small smile on his face.

~

it had been a couple of months since you had broken up with james, and you were at peace with it. although awkward at first, the two of you hesitantly became friends again.

at this moment in time however, your awkward friendship with james was the least of your worries. your favourite author had released a new book, and you were dying to buy it at hogsmeade.

the issue was.. literally no one could go with you.

"sorry y/n, i can't, quidditch training."

"sorry y/n, i'm studying."

"sorry y/n, i promised dorcas i would help her revise for the potions exam!"

the excuses were all too convenient. that left you with only on option left. not that you were complaining though, you had grown quite fond of the increase in time you were spending with remus. so much so, lily had accused you of fancying him again! something you had denied, with flustered cheeks. it did make you think though.

"remus?" you approached him in the common room, he was with sirius. james and peter were in a detention.. or something.

"y/n" he smiled at your presence.

"would you uhh.. want to go to hogsmeade with me?" you asked.

"oooooo" sirius teased, nudging remus.

"no- no not like that, i need to buy a new book.. and i don't want to go alone i just thought-"

"yeah, i'll go." he smiles at you.

"great, meet me here at 1pm tomorrow." you scurry off, feeling your cheeks burning.

oh my godric. you had a sneaky suspicion you were beginning to have a crush on remus.

"ugh lily!!" you faceplanted your bed, your head in your pillow, that night.

"i think you were right."

"of course, what about?" she smiles, teasingly.

"remus." you said, your voice muffled.

"what was that?" she asked.

"don't make me repeat it." you groan.

"no you can say it again!" she smiles.

"remus. i think i like him." you sigh.

"you're acting like that's a bad thing! remus is great." lily sits on your bed, where you were having your crisis.

"it's not.. he's james' best friend!" you groan.

"oh y/n.. that doesn't matter. james won't mind, your friends, aren't you? and you've been nice to him and gave him permission to date me. no idea why because it's never gonna happen! but still, he''ll understand." she reassures you.

"i don't know.." you trail off.

"y/n.. i think it's obvious remus likes you." lily pats your back.

"WHAT?!" your head shoots up.

"it's quite obvious isn't it.. whenever you're around he always has a massive smile on his face." she smiles at you.

you smile at her.

"I swear to godric if you're wrong-"

"I'm not. now tomorrow you need to get ready for your little hogsmeade date and-"

"it's not a date.. and.. how did you know about that??" you look at her, bewildered.

"i know everything." she winks at you, and you have a sneaky suspicion that tomorrow she was definitely not studying like she had said.

"fineeee you're the best though lily" you smile.

"you flatter me" she smiles back at you and you chuckle.

~

you admitted to yourself the next day you were nervous. you didn't even know why.. you were only buying a book. but still you had gone out the way to put extra effort into you hair, something that didn't go unnoticed by your dorm-mates.

"you look nice y/n, dressing to impress?" marlene teases you, as you made your way down to the common room.

"impress? who would i be impressing?" you playfully roll your eyes, and speed off, before anything else about the matter was said, to meet remus. he was sat, reading.

"remus?" you approached him; "you ready to go?"

"yes." he smiles at you, and gets up, following you out the castle.

"would you rather we walk or take the carriage?" he asks.

"walking would be nice." you respond.

he nods and you begin walking to hogsmeade, engaging in conversation.

eventually, you had arrived at hogsmeade. the bookshop was called "tomes and scrolls."

"would you like me to.. uh come in with you?" remus asks, blushing slightly.

"yes, thank you." you feel your face heat up.

he follows you into the shop, watching you pick up the book you so desperately wanted.

"i'll pay for it, if you want." he smiles at you.

"you don't have to." you splutter.

"but i want to y/n." his own confidence caught himself off guard.

"i insist you don't.. but maybe you could buy me a butterbeer instead?" you smile.

"like as in a date?" remus's breath hitched. you probably didn't mean it like that. why did he say that out loud? he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"like a date." you nodded, your cheeks burning.

"that'd be.. that'd be good. not good. brilliant." remus stumbled over his words.

"y/n.. i.. like you. alot." he mutters.

"you do? really?" you look at him.

"of course." he says, avoiding eye contact.

"oh remus, i like you too." you respond, smiling.

remus was caught off guard. he had finally got what he had wanted, after all this time.

you.

and he was happy. very. and so were you, by the looks of your smiling face.

[ljblueteak]

Peter Brown on being in Paris with Paul in January 1968. Paul asked Peter if he was going back to the hotel after dinner and Peter said he was off to a gay bar. Paul took a taxi to “Find his own fun” and this is later that night/morning.

“In the wee hours of the morning. I was in bed with a handsome Parisian I’d met at the bar, when Paul returned to the hotel suite. He knocked on my bedroom door and entered without waiting for a response. He was totally nonchalant when he saw me in bed with my friend.

He came over and sat down on the edge of the bed next to us. ‘How was the rest of your evening?’ he asked. We chatted for a bit about travel plans the next day and he left. I’m sure my young Parisian friend told this story many times in his life, and no one believed him.”

All You Need is Love. Page 9

[thebookanaconda]

Guess what I saw on reddit today!!!

[punkeropercyjackson]

Might as well.Please reblog even if you don't vote /nf

[waitimcomingtoo]

You Never Called It What It Was

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!reader

Synopsis: you and Peter are friends with benefits who never admit your true feelings for each other until Peter gets hurt on a mission

Masterlist

“What are you working on?”

You smiled when you heard Peters voice behind you but didn’t take your attention off the paper open on your laptop. You liked to play hard to get, and he liked to play until he got you.

“School work. Remember that?” You teased him.

“I remember. I just chose not to do it until it’s absolutely necessary.“ Peter shrugged and put his hands on either of your shoulders. He started to lazily rub his thumbs into your neck and you knew what he was looking for.

“That attitude is why you’re number two in the class.”

“Oh yeah? And who’s number one? Remind me.” Peter asked as he spun your swivel chair around to face him.

“That’d be me.” You smiled coyly. Peter returned the smile before leaning in for a long and slow kiss.

“Are you really gonna spend your Friday night doing homework? Because I can think of a hundred other fun things we could he doing right now.” He said once he pulled away.

“Oh really? Like what?

“Why tell you when I could just show you?” Peter asked before kissing you again. You shut your laptop without breaking the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Your room or mine?” He asked against your lips.

“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”

“I don’t know. When’s the last time you slept over?”

“Gross.” You laughed. “Meet me in my room in ten.”

You didn’t exactly when your friendship with Peter turned into a little more. Living in the tower together made it inevitable that you’d end up falling for each other, especially after all the late nights you would spend up and talking to the other. It was so routine for you to spend the night in each others rooms that you could hardly remember a time when you didn’t. And despite the fact that you both told yourselves you were content with being friends with benefits, you couldn’t help but want more each time you hooked up.

A few nights later, Peter knocked on your door and pushed it open slightly, finding you in your bed with a book resting on your knees.

“Hey, pretty lady.” He said as he knocked on your doorframe.

“When are you gonna get a real girlfriend and stop bothering me?” You teased him and shut your book.

“When you admit your feels for me and run away together as lovers.” He shrugged, making you smile.

“I’m pretty sure we already are lovers.” You laughed and patted the spot beside you on your bed. Peter wasted no time in sitting next to you and moving hair off your forehead.

“Is that what you call it?” He asked. His tone was playful but his eyes looked genuine. He wanted it know what you were but you didn’t have an answer to give.

“I guess so. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. But we’re definitely not just coworkers.”

“No. Course not.” Peter said through a laugh but you could tell it hurt him when you said you weren’t dating.

“We’re just…” You trailed off and shrugged.

“Friends?” He asked with a sad smile.

“Yeah. Who are really, really, extra friendly.” You smiled as you leaned in to connect your lips to his. Peter kissed you back and cupped your face to pull you closer to him. He gently laid you down on the bed and shot a web at the door to close and lock it.

“Do you treat any of your other friends like this?” He asked you between kisses.

“No. I save this all for you, P.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I want you all to myself.”

Cue PG-13 rom com level “morning after” shot where they’re tangled in the sheets and a soft song plays while they stare at each other.

“I should probably head back to my room.” Peter said, though that wasn’t what he wanted to do. Your eyes were shut and you were laying on his chest, tightening your grip when he suggested leaving.

“You don’t have to. If you’re tired, just go to sleep.” You said without opening your eyes. Peter looked down at you to see if you were serious but you were hardly awake.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t care.” You said through a yawn and held him tighter. Peter didn’t said anything and you got the feeling he wasn’t sure what he should do. You opened one eye and checked on him and sure enough, he looked as conflicted as ever.

“Yes. I do. I want you to stay.” You admitted. You felt Peter relax and lay his head back back on the pillow. He slipped an arm around you and held you close while resting his cheek on your head.

“Thanks. I wanted to stay.” He said softly.

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” He said and you could tell he was smiling.

“Goodnight, P.”

After a day where Peter didn’t see or hear from you, he was pleasantly surprised to see you in his doorway once the sun had set.

“Hey.” You smiled and waved to him.

“Hey. Come here.” He sat up and motioned you to come closer. You smiled and went to his bed to crawl into his lap. You straddled his hips by sliding your legs under his propped up arms and kissed him hello before settling into his arms.

“Missed you. I haven’t seen you all day.” He playfully whined as he toyed with your hair.

“I know. I was at the beach with my friends.”

“Was it fun?”

“Yeah. It was weird though.”

“Weird? Why?”

“When I was with them, I kept turning to my left thinking you were there.” You laughed shyly as you sat up to look at him. Peter scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“What?” Peter laughed too. “Did you forget I didn’t go?”

“No.” You shrugged. “I just found myself missing you. I wanted you to be there.”

Peter couldn’t hide the blush that painted his face when he heard that you missed him. He missed you all the time when you weren’t around, so it was nice to hear the feeling was being reciprocated.

“You can invite me next time. Then you won’t have to miss me.” Peter said with a shy smile.

“You wouldn’t want to hang out with my friends.” You laughed and shook your head.

“Yes I would. If you like them, I’d probably like them too. They’re an extension of you and I…like you.” He stumbled over his words and squeezed his eyes shut when he realized what he had said.

“Maybe I will invite you then. They’ve been dying to meet you.”

“So you talk about me to them, huh?” He smiled cheekily.

“Of course I do. I tell them about everything that’s ever happened to me.” You said causally. Peters smile faltered a little and you realized you accidentally made it seem like Peter was just another little meaningless detail of your life.

“Plus, they’re all jealous that I’m living with the guy I’m sleeping with and therefore get some every single night.” You added, making him smile again. But this smile was different. It was sadder this time.

“Is that what you refer to me as around them? The guy you’re sleeping with?” He joked but felt disappointed.

“No. I call you Peter.” You said simply.

“Oh. Good. That’s better.” Peter relaxed again and drummed his fingertips on your waistband.

“Why? What do you call me?” You wondered.

“I never know what to call you. I usually just end up referring to you as my girl.” Peter shyly admitted.

“I don’t hate that.” You shrugged, making Peter smile hopefully.

“You don’t?”

“No. I actually think it’s cute. It’s not as constricting as “girlfriend” but still lets people know I hold a special place.” You said and cupped his face just to get a better look at his. His hair was messy and his face was flushed

“Well, good.” Peter blushed under your touch. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll keep calling you that, then.”

“Good.” You felt your face heat up too as you looked at him. His expression changed from playful to serious as he tilted his chin up to kiss you. He kissed you long and slow, just because he wanted to kiss you. He didn’t expect anything from you tonight. He just wanted to be around you.

“Do you want to watch a movie? I was just gonna put on Grown Ups 2.” He said once he pulled away.

“But I’ve never seen the first one.” You said as you laughed at his choice of movie.

“You don’t need to.” He waved his hand. “All you need to know is that they’re grown ups and this is the second time they’ve done that.”

“Sounds perfect.” You laughed again and slid off his lap so that you could lay beside him in the bed. You snuggled into his side while he played the movie on his laptop.

You woke up the next morning in Peters arms. That wasn’t unusual for you, but something felt different about this particular morning. You sat up and rubbed your tired eyes before looking at his floor. The string of discarded clothing that usual dawned his floor the night after you slept over wasn’t there since all of your clothes were still on. You looked down at Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your chest. He stirred awake and slowly opened his eyes just as you were coming to terms with it all.

“Hey. Good morning.” Peter said through a yawn while he rubbed your back.

“We didn’t hook up last night.” You said, mostly to yourself.

“Yeah, no. We just watched the movie and fell asleep.” Peter shrugged and tried to pull you back down to cuddle. You pulled away from him and quickly got out of the bed.

“I should go. I didn’t mean to sleep over. Sorry.” You said as you backed up towards his door.

“I don’t care.” Peter laughed like it was silly. “You can sleep over whenever you want. You know that.”

“I know. But we’ve never just had a sleepover before.” You said and held yourself tightly. Peter could sense that you were freaking out about something so he got out the bed and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything.” He assured you. You relaxed when Peter said that, which broke his heart. It did mean something to him, a lot actually. But you seemed like you didn’t want it to mean anything, so he pretended he felt the same.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen where the rest of the team was and went straight to where Peter was sitting. You’d relaxed about the night before and tried not to think about it anymore. You put your feet into his lap and stole a piece of toast off his plate while the other Avengers watched you.

“So are you guys dating now or what?” Tony asked casually as he popped a grape in his mouth.

“What? No.” You answered immediately. Peters head snapped to you when he heard how quick you answered and felt his heart sink.

“Yeah. No.” Peter nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. Tony gave Peter a look that said he didn’t believe Peter for a second.

“Really? Because I’m not sure if you know the definition of dating or not, but you’re following it exactly.” Tony said sarcastically.

“It’s just sex.” You shrugged, making Peter feel even worse.

“Is it? Because I’ve seen you doing plenty of non-sexual romantic activities together.” Natasha added in.

“So what? That doesn’t mean we’re dating. It comes with the package of being friends with benefits.” You replied all too quickly for Peters liking.

“I never really understood the whole “with benefits” things. If you like someone’s company enough to consider them a friend and also trust them with your body and desire them in a non-platonic way, why not just date? What’s the point of you two sleeping together every night and cuddling on the couch if you’re not gonna admit you’re in a relationship?” Pepper added in her thoughts.

“Because we’re not in a relationship.” You said definitively. “We’re friends who like to get a little extra friendly. That doesn’t mean I want to be anybody’s girlfriend.”

“Your generation is so weird. You literally are his girlfriend. Why can’t you just call it what it is?” Tony asked you.

“Because we’re not dating.” You laughed in annoyance. “And I don’t want to be dating. I just want to hook up. It’s really just that simple.”

“Yeah. It’s simple. It’s not complicated or confusing at all.” Peter added. He’d been silent for so long that you had forgotten he was there. You felt bad for getting so defensive without thinking of how it would make him feel.

“I don’t believe it. There is no way you two are doing what you’re doing and not catching feelings. You’re either lying to us right now, lying to each other, or lying to yourselves.” Tony replied. Peter looked at you to see how you felt about that, and you didn’t like it at all.

“This conversation is stupid. I’m disengaging.” You said as you got up and left the kitchen.

“It’s okay to want love.” Tony called after you.

“Disengaged.” You shouted back. Once you were gone, everyone looked at Peter tinder his reaction. It was very obvious to the room that he felt the exact opposite to what you said.

“I’m in love with-“ Peter began.

“We know.” They all said in unison.

That night, you were determined to put some space between you and Peter. So when he came and found you on the balcony, you kept your plan at the front of your mind and prepared to say no to any and all of his advances.

“Hey.” He said as he sat beside you.

“Hey.” You said without looking up from your laptop.

“Do you want to watch Grown Ups 1 and make out during the scary parts?”

“I’m not really in the mood tonight. Sorry, P.” You replied, already feeling guilty for how cold you were being.

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s all good.” Peter assured you. “Do you want to hang out at least?”

“I’m kinda busy tonight. Maybe some other time?” You asked and finally looked at him.

“Then can I just sit here and watch?” He asked in a soft voice as he sat on the edge of the desk.

“Watch me do homework?”

“I just want to be in your company.” He shrugged. You gulped and had to look away or else you’d cave in to those big brown eyes of his.

“Why?” You played dumb.

“I don’t know. Because I like to be around you.” He shrugged and felt his face heat up. You knew he was expecting the girl who said she missed him when he wasn’t around, but you couldn’t be that girl anymore. You had to set some boundaries before you ended up in a relationship.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ve done enough work today.” You said and shut your laptop.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. I’m tired too. I’ll walk you to your room.” Peter said and followed you to your room. You turned to face him once you were in your doorway and felt a new sense of awkwardness between you.

“Well, goodnight.” You said and did finger guns at him.

“Goodnight.” He said and slipped an arm around your waist. He kissed your cheek and you felt yourself tear up at the kind gesture. He was being so good to you and you were being so cold. He turned to leave and you felt your heart following him out the door.

“Peter, wait.”

“Yes?” He stopped immediately and came back.

“Did you want to sleep here?” You asked and pointed to your bed over your shoulder.

“No. That’s okay. I can tell you want to be alone.” Peter said with no self pity in his voice. He was just reading your cues and for some reason, that made you feel even worse.

“And I can tell you don’t want to be. You can stay. We can be alone together.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled and went into your room. He climbed into your bed and you got in after him. You held him and let him be the little spoon to make up for being mean to him. It didn’t take long for Peter to fall asleep but you didn’t have the same luck. Your mind was racing with too many thoughts as you tried to figure out how your plan to put some distance between you and Peter ended up with him in your arms. The more you thought about why you couldn’t just reject him like he was any other boy, the more the answer became clear.

“Oh fuck.” You whispered. “I love him.”

Now that you knew you had fallen for Peter, you had to end things. You couldn’t keep sleeping with him now that you knew you wanted more. So when Peter woke up the next morning, you were already gone. He frowned in confusion and went into the kitchen to find you.

“Has anyone seen Y/n?” Peter asked the team.

“Your girlfriend is off on a run.” Tony said without looking up from his magazine.

“Without me?” Peter wondered out loud and walked out of the room. He walked back in a few seconds later with his finger in the air.

“And she’s not my-“

“We know.” Tony groaned and waved Peter away.

Peter hung around in the foyer until finally, you came through the door. You gave him a quick smile and went to walk past him without saying anything.

“Hey. I was looking for you.” Peter said as he put his hand on your stomach to physically stop you. He looked so different now that you knew you were in love with him. Someone you once considered your best friend now felt impossible to talk to.

“You found me. Bye.” You quickly dismissed yourself but Peter caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back.

“Wait. I didn’t expect you to be gone this morning when I woke up.” He said quietly so no one could overhear.

“I had to leave early. I wanted to run to clear my head.”

“You should’ve woken me up. I would’ve come with you.” Peter told you. You folded your lips into a tight line and he immediately read your mind.

“Unless you wanted to clear your head of me.” He realized as he added up all your recent behavior.

“Look, Peter, it’s nothing personal.” You sighed. “I’ve been thinking about it for a minute and last night confirmed it for me. I don’t I want to hook up with you anymore.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked a few times in shock. “Okay. Woah. Um, did I do something wrong?”

“No. I just think we should start seeing other people. I think it will be good for the both of us to branch out.” You lied. You couldn’t tell him how you really felt, so you had to bury your feelinsg under a bunch of lies.

“You want to see other guys?” He asked, sounded heartbroken at the thought.

“Maybe not right away. But I think you and I should go back to being just friends.”

“Are you sure I didn’t do anything? If I said something stupid in my sleep last night that offended you or something I’m really sorry. I get weird dreams if I eat too late.”

“It’s not that. It’s not anything. I just don’t want to hook up with you anymore.” You shrugged and struggled to maintain eye contact with him knowing you were lying through your teeth and hurting him in the process.

“Is that all we were doing?” He asked, making you freeze. That was never all you were doing. It was just all you would admit to.

“Yes.” You said after a long beat of silence. Peter stared at you for a long time to give you a chance to take that back and admit you meant more to each other then just a fling. But you didn’t have the courage to do it, so he just ended up disappointed.

“Okay. If that’s your decision-“

“It is.” You said quickly, wanting to leave before you started to cry.

“Okay.” He nodded and gave you a tight smile. He put his hand on your arm as if he was going to lean in and kiss you, but then settled for a soft punch on the arm instead. He walked away from you and you felt your heart shatter.

You were all called in on mission the next day that required you to take the jet. You got there first and bounced your leg as you waited for Peter. He didn’t come by your room the night before which you expected, but still felt disappointed over. Peter finally walked on to the jet and looked around for an empty seat. There was one right next to you, which you patted to let him know he could sit there. He looked at it for a second before going to sit somewhere else. You blinked a few times in confusion before getting up to go sit next to him.

“There was a spot next to me.” You whispered to him as everyone else buckled up.

“I know.” He said without looking at you. You stared at him for a while and tried to read his face but he was turned away.

“We always sit next to each other.” You said quietly.

“I guess I just don’t want to do that anymore. I want to sit next to other people.”” He replied. You knew he was referencing what you had said to him about seeing other people and sighed.

“I thought we were going to being normal.” You whispered. Peter looked down at his lap for a minute before looking at you.

“I don’t know if I can just switch back to being normal.”

“Why not? It was just-“

“I know.” He cut you off. “Just sex. Just a fling. Just a meaningless hook up that ended once I left your bed. Trust me. I know how you feel.”

“P-“

“I gotta go.” Peter got up again and went to go sit somewhere else. You looked up and could see Tony looking at you with a displeased look. You sighed and shrunk down in your seat, not talking to anyone else as the jet took off. You couldn’t even accuse Peter of being a baby over you not wanting to sleep together anymore because you knew it wasn’t about that. It was about you acting like your relationship wasn’t what it was.

The mission went smoothly from your part and you completed your jobs with ease. You circled back to find the rest of the team but when you got there, you found everyone but Peter.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked. Everyone avoided eye contact with you and a pit grew in your stomach.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked again and pushed on the person closest to you.

“He’s in the next room.” Steve answered you without looking in your eyes. You pushed past everyone and ran onto the next room to go find him. When you got inside, you found Peter on the floor in a pool of blood. Tony was using his suit to try and repair a hole in Peters side.

“What happened?” You asked as you dropped to your knees at Peters side.

“Who me? Oh, nothing. I’m fine.” Peter smiled weakly waved his hand.

“Fine? You have a bullet hole in your side.” You exclaimed and took his hand to let him know you were there.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Peter lied before coughing up some blood. Everyone piled into the room to see Peter and you could hear them winced and murmuring at the sight of him. He was bleeding out quickly and Tony’s nanite spray wasn’t enough to stop it.

“We need to get him to the jet.” You said to Tony, who was looking at Peter in despair.

“The jet? We need to get him to the morgue.” Sam mumbled. You grabbed a random rock and threw it at him.

“Shut up!” You screamed as panicked tears fell down your face.

“I was just kidding. Damn. She threw a rock at me.” Sam mumbled and kicked the rock.

“He’s really hurt. We have to get him to the jet.” You said and went to scoop Peter up.

“This is gonna hurt.” Tony warned him.

“A little or a lottle?” Peter winced.

“Lottle, kid.” Tony said apologetically.

“Oh. Joy.” Peter groaned as you picked him up. You ran with him onto the jet. You laid him down on the table while Tony got out the medical supplies on hand.

“I don’t have any Novocain. Can you distract him while I fix this?” Tony whispered to you and held up the needle he had to use to stitch Peter up.

“Distract him how?” You asked.

“I don’t know. He’s your guy. Talk to him.” Tony hissed at you and gave you a stern look. You backed down and nodded your head to show him you understood that it was time to grow up. Peter was your guy and it was time to admit that. You slipped your hand into his again and knelt down to be close to his face.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t want to talk to me.” Peter smiled while tears slipped down his face.

“Yes I do. I always want to talk to you.”

“But you haven’t lately. I didn’t think you wanted to be friends anymore.”

“Peter-“

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to be my friend. I just miss you. Thanks for holding my hand.”

“I need to tell you something, P.” You sighed and brushed the hair off his face. Peter was struggling to fight the pain of being stitched up but still gave you his full attention.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry I never explained why and just let you think you did something wrong. The truth is, I pushed you away because I was scared that our relationship was turning into more than just friends with benefits. I didn’t know how to handle the fact that this wasn’t just a fling anymore.”

“You never called it what it was.” Peter croaked out. “When the team was saying you were my girlfriend, you seemed angry that anyone could ever think that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I just got defensive because I was still trying to repress my feelings. I’m sorry I said all those things. I didn’t mean them.”

“What did you mean?” Peter asked quietly. Everyone was leaning in to listen but you pretended not to notice. You looked up at Tony and he nodded to tell you the time was now. You nodded back before looked down at Peter again.

“I love hooking up with you but I also love talking to you and hearing your opinions on things and the way you interpreted a song lyric or a movie scene. I love showing you shows I love and waiting to see which parts you find funny so I can laugh too. I love seeing your reaction to my stories and hearing about your day, even when you didn’t do anything exciting. I listening to the music you had in your iPod as a little kid and hearing what songs you could never forget the lyrics to, even if you tried. And if I love all those things, I guess I just love you. I freaked out when I realized that and thought if I stayed away from you, those feelings would go away. But they didn’t. I love you still.“ You told him. Everyone exchanged looks but held their tongues as your confession was heard through the jet. Peter broke into a smile that sent pain through his entire body.

“Normally this would be the part where I heroically kiss you and everyone claps, but I’m numb below my neck and about to pass out. So can you kiss me?“ Peter requested, making you smile until you saw the blood streaming from his lip and nose.

“You’re like…bleeding out of your nose and mouth.” You said with a smile so he didn’t know you were grossed out.

“Can you do it anyway? Please?” Peter asked and coughed up some more blood. You couldn’t say no to those eyes so you bent down and kissed him for a long time. When you pulled away, you gagged at the taste of blood in your mouth and Peter grimaced at the sight of his blood on your face.

“That’s gross. You were right. We should’ve waited.” Peter laughed and started coughing again.

“We’ll try it again when you’re cleaned up.” You assured him.

“Good.” He smiled. “But I’m gonna pass out now. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

Peter did in fact see you when he woke up. You had all made it back on the jet and rushed Peter to extensive care. By the time he woke up, he was healing nicely and all cleaned up. More importantly, you were right there in the doorway watching the doctor dress his wound. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you, then saw the doctor. He was about to ask him to leave to give you and him some privacy to talk about what you had said on the jet, but you beat him to it. You touched the doctors arm as you sat down on Peters hospital bed and held his hand.

“Excuse us, doc.” You smiled politely. “Thank you so much for the help. But I need a minute alone with my boyfriend.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor

@tom-hollands-wifey @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker

@every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​

@fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow

@thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe

@kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland

@yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx

@heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[starsval]

honest

tasm!peter parker x f!reader

Summary: being best friends and maybe in love with Peter Parker is nice, until certain spider changes everything

Word couny: 10k

Warnings: mentions of wounds, kissing, hickeys, and I think that's all

A/N: it's based on Honest by The Neighbourhood, It's nice to have a friend, King of my heart and Sweet nothing by Taylor Swift.

Also, thanks to @myriadmoons for helping me write this <33

Patience, test my patience

If I made it too hard for you, maybe

“What happened?” You ask Peter, approaching him in the hallway. Immediately noticing the bruise on his face, even though he tried to hide it with the hoodie.

“I fell” He tells you, walking to your first class, which, to his displeasure, you had together.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You ask him as he works as your shield among all the students going to their classes.

“Sometimes” He laughs, trying to change the subject as you both sit in your place.

“Pete, I’m serious. Is it Flash again? I wouldn’t care to threaten him again”

“That only worked because he has a crush on you” He smiles, resting his head on his arms while looking at you.

“Yeah, but it worked, so I take it as a win” He laughs softly, trying to ignore the concerned look you were giving him. “What happened?”

“I fell” He knows by the look in your eyes that you don’t believe him, but he ignores it, just like he ignores your sad expression as you turn your head to the teacher.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

“Are you okay?” You ask him, opening your bedroom door so he can get inside. You notice the new bruises, of course you do, you always notice. 

But you also notice the look in his eyes, telling you to not say anything about it, telling you to just hold him now.

So you do, you hug him. You let him hug you so tight that you’re afraid he might break you.

“I’m better now” He mutters, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I’m glad”

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

You should have changed it

Say it, you should say it

“You don’t even have to tell me” You had told Peter, sitting on the stairs of your porch. “I mean, it’s obvious that I’m not buying the ‘I fell’ bullshit. So just let me help you”

“It’s okay, someone’s- I’m already getting help” And it’s not you. He had told you, getting up and walking away after waving goodbye.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

“You’re ignoring me” You tell Peter, sitting on his bed with your homework on your lap.

“I’m literally doing homework right now” He says, slightly offended.

“Not right now, I mean lately” He hesitates before talking.

“I’ve been busy, I’m sorry” He finally looks up from his homework, looking at you.

“It’s okay, you know I don’t care about that, just, don’t be a stranger”

“I won’t” He assures you. “Talking about that, I didn’t tell you but I’m friends with Gwen” Then he puts his homework away, because, of course, when it’s about her he has to focus completely. “We started talking the other day and she’s really nice… "

So you just sit there, listening to him, because that’s the most he’s talked to you in days. And because you’re a good friend who’ll listen to anything even though it hurts. Because you don’t want to lose him.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Waiting, always waiting

You wait. Even though you shouldn’t. You wait for him, for a text, for a call, for a response, anything. You wait for him to fulfil his promise, that he’d be here to do the work with you. The most important work of the year.

You wait for him to answer all your texts, all your calls. You keep waiting as you do the work, as you start it, as you look up information, as you finish it, as you revise it.

You stop waiting for him to start waiting for an excuse when he opens the door. With new cuts and bruises that had already been taken care of.

“Sorry for being late, I lost track of time” He puts his backpack in the usual place and sits on your bed, behind you. “We can start now”

You turn around in the chair, not waiting anymore since you already got your excuse. You watch the hour on your phone before talking.

“At 11pm?” You ask him, looking at his new bruises, sighing and wishing he told you more about it.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…” He doesn’t continue, because he doesn’t have anything to say.

“I already did it” You inform him, getting up and laying on your bed as you turn on the TV.

“What? But, we were supposed to do it together” He says, offended as he gets up, to discover that, in fact, you already did it.

“It’s due tomorrow” You don’t look at him, instead, you look at the news, talking about the decrease of crime.

“You could’ve waited for me” You look at him now, foolishly hurt by his words. Because that’s all you’ve done lately. Wait for him. “I know I didn’t answer.” ‘I’m sorry’ He doesn’t add. “But it’s like half of the grade” ‘It’s not fair that you had to do it alone’ He forgets to add, again.

“Fuck you Peter” You tell him, eyes again on the TV, refusing to look at him and at his audacity.

“Look, I know that you’re mad, but I was with Gwen, and I lost track of time, and…” He stops talking, either because he realises he mentioned Gwen or because he realises that you don’t care.

“See you tomorrow” You don’t look at him when he mutters a soft ‘good night’. You do look at him when he turns around, picks his backpack and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You don’t go to sleep immediately, even though you should. You add yours and Peter’s names to the work before putting it on your backpack. Then you continue watching the news. Weirdly entertained by the people talking about Spiderman as he swings between buildings. 

You watch his back, just as you watched Peter’s. A back that you know too much, a back that you've scratched, a back that you watched leave earlier. And then it all makes sense, well, you still don’t know why he’s ignoring you. But you know the reason behind the bruises, the cuts, the tiredness in his eyes.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

I wish you could be honest

I wish you could be honest with me

You watch as the teacher corrects the works. Peter watches you. You both watch the teacher walking to your desks. The teacher watches both of you as he talks.

“It’s really good, I still have to correct some things but it’s the better one of the class” He says before walking away, with your work still in his hands.

“You added my name?” Peter asks you, looking at you as you watch the clock, waiting for the class to be over.

“Yes” You answer, now looking at him.

“I didn’t deserve it” He says ‘I didn’t do anything and then made you feel bad about it’ He doesn’t say.

“I know” You keep looking at him, ignoring the shred of hurt in his eyes, and focusing on the exhaustion in them. “Peter, are you honest with me?”

He doesn’t expect the question, but he doesn’t doubt when answering “Of course”

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Why'd you stick around?

Why'd you stay with me?

Why'd you fake it?

You always did this. It was your tradition. But things have changed lately, so you shouldn't be surprised when he doesn't show up. 

You look at the news, waiting to see someone informing you about what Spiderman's doing right now, maybe saving the city again. But nothing. He seems to be sleeping, or ignoring his best friend.

So you give up, put your phone in silence and walk in the cinema. Doing your monthly tradition alone, for the first time. 

When you walk out you don't expect to see him there. Looking weirdly anxious. But you don't acknowledge him, you just continue walking. 

"I'm sorry" He says as he follows you, standing in front of you when he realises you're not going to stop. You don’t say anything, you just look at him, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re hurt. Hurt by him, by his actions, by his secrets. “I’m really sorry, I was really occupied and I couldn’t make it and…”

“I can’t keep doing this” You try to walk around him to the door so you can walk to your house. But he stands in front of you again.

“I know, and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise” And you want to believe him, you really want to, but you can't let yourself get hurt again.

“You could’ve told me” Just like you can tell me that you’re Spiderman. But you don’t say that, because you want him to trust you, although you don’t know why he doesn’t.

“I- my phone-” He stops, because lying isn’t going to get him anywhere. “I forgot”

You smile, even though all you want to do is cry. He forgot his best friend. And why? Before you can ask him, the answer appears behind you.

“Where were you? Oh, hi Y/n” You turn around, to see Gwen smiling at you. You return her the smile and a wave before turning back to Peter.

“Fuck off Peter, and make sure you don’t forget to talk to her” You mutter as you finally walk around him, reaching the door and start the journey to your house.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

As you walk on the pavement, you notice someone approaching you. You wave at him when you notice who he is. Harry, Peter’s friend. He introduced you two a while ago, and to his surprise, you actually got along.

“Hi” He greets you.

“Hi, I didn’t know you were in town?” You ask him.

“Yeah, I arrived a few days ago. Actually, I was going to Peter’s house, do you want to come?” He asks you, oblivious to the whole situation.

“I was just going to my house, but it was nice to see you again” You tell him, resuming the walk to your house when he starts talking next to you. “You don’t have to.” He cuts you off before you can finish.

“Did something happen? The last time I was here Peter told me that he wouldn’t let you walk home alone, because it’s dangerous, you know?” You sigh, because it’s true, he never did that, until today.

“It’s complicated I guess, but you don’t really have to walk me home, it’s just a ten minutes walk from here”

“It’s okay, I’d like to catch up with you” You give up trying to get him to actually go where he was supposed to and start talking about both of your lifes. “Does Flash still have a crush on you? I don’t think Peter got over the fact that he asked you out”

You laugh, remembering that day. When you’d suggested that maybe he was just jealous, he said that it was because he wanted his best friend to date someone better than Flash.

“He still does, but he hasn’t tried to ask me out again” You stand in front of your porch, turning around to face him. . “Thanks for walking me home, Harry” You smile at him, really thankful that you hadn’t spent the whole walk thinking about Peter.

“It’s okay, I always like talking to you. And about the Peter thing, I’m sure you’ll work it out”

You let out a soft ‘I know’ before saying goodbye to him and walking in your house. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Harry doesn’t bring up the matter when he shows up at Peter’s door. Neither when they both start playing video games. Or when Peter starts talking about Gwen. He talks about it when he says that he went to the mall with Gwen.

“That’s why Y/n was going home alone?” He notices how Peter tenses up immediately.

“What?” Peter asks, like he has no idea what he’s talking about.

“I saw her, and I walked her home, she seemed upset” Peter doesn’t say anything, feeling too bad, knowing that he’s the reason why. “I even asked her if Flash still had a crush on her, maybe the next time I shouldn’t be that discreet”

“What?” Peter turns around, the video game long forgotten as the boys talk.

“Maybe I should ask her on a date while I’m here, the worst she can say is no” Harry keeps talking, and maybe he’s being for real, maybe he just wants Peter to react. But all Peter knows is that he’s getting mad, and he doesn’t know why.

“You shouldn’t” He says dryly. 

“Why? Is she seeing someone?” Harry asks, getting up to pick up his things.

“No” Peter answers, his jaw tightened as he watches his friend move around the room.

“Then? What’s the problem?” Harry stops for a second, looking at him.

“I don’t want you to date her” Then he moves again, giving Peter his back as he closes his backpack, hiding his smile.

“I thought you were with Gwen?” Peter frowns at that.

“What? No, it’s all platonic” He swears. 

“She must be a good friend then. You left Y/n to go with her” Harry can see Peter's face go through all emotions before talking back. 

“It’s not like that” He frowns, again, like it's the most obvious thing. 

“I don’t know the whole story Peter, but I do know that she was walking home alone –something that you swore you’d never do– and she seemed hurt” After that Harry leaves. Leaving a confused Peter considering all the choices he's made, while looking at the pictures you two have together. 

Pictures he took of you when you gave him his new camera for his birthday. Pictures Aunt May insisted on taking one of the first times you went to the cinema together. Pictures you took of him when he was distracted. Pictures he took of you while you were sleeping, because he thought you looked cute, even though you got embarrassed after. Pictures he took of you while falling(and on the floor), after you had assured him that you knew how to skate. 

He remembers that after the last one, you almost made him fall again, he also remembers that your actual words were 'Pete what the fuck??, why didn't you help me?' Like he could’ve done anything to help you

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

I hope you find a way

To be yourself someday

You were doing all you could to avoid Peter. You didn’t know if he was trying to talk to you. But you didn’t care. Maybe he wasn’t trying to find you. It's not like it's something new. But you couldn't known

You couldn't avoid each other in the next class, since you guys sat together(for the next two hours). 

“Do you like Harry?” He asks you, neither of you had anything to do, while the others finished their homework, you do all you can to not look at him.

“What?” You fail, meeting his gaze as you talk.

“I think he likes you” He adds.

“Okay” You say, dryly. 

“Do you like him?” You can’t believe him, it’s the same shit he did with Flash.

“Just leave me alone” You try to ignore his intense gaze.

“I don’t think you should date him” You stop ignoring his eyes now, looking at him and trying to find where his audacity comes from.

“That’s not your problem” You remind him.

He looks at you, because it’s really not. Even if you were still best friends, it wouldn’t be. But then you’d say something like ‘are you jealous?’.

“I know, I know, but he’s-” You cut him off, tired of his shit.

“I don’t care, Peter, why would I?. If I like him or if I don’t, it’s not your problem, so just leave me alone” 

He seems hurt, he really does. But you stop looking at him, because maybe if you don’t see him, you won’t notice. And maybe if he doesn’t look at you, he won’t notice your hurt. Or maybe he does and he just doesn't care. 

You stay like that the rest of the hour, fighting the urge to not turn your head to him, even when you can notice him looking at you. You fight the urge to not ask him for explanations, to ask him to come back to you. 

As soon as the teacher says that you have a free hour, you walk out of the class as soon as you can. 

You walk to the bleachers, waiting for the hour to be over so you can just go home. You’re looking at the sky when Peter approaches you, your immediate response is to get up, to try and run away.

“Please- just…” He stays there, standing in a row in front of you. You sit down again, looking at him.

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you, feeling like he hasn't seen you in forever. He doesn’t talk, you don’t talk. Until you get impatient and try to get up before he talks. 

"You don't call me Pete anymore, you know?. You just say Peter, and half of the time is to insult me" You don't know how to react, you don't know what to do with the hurt in his voice. So you just talk, before thinking. 

“Are you Spiderman?” You see him trying to say something, trying to lie. But you both know it wouldn’t work. So he doesn’t say anything. He looks at you, frowning.

You laugh.

“You didn’t even try to deny it” You look at him, questioning him, questioning his friendship with you, his friendship with Gwen.

“How long have you known?” He frowns, looking sad.

“Long enough for me to say that you’re not honest” You fight the urge to walk away.

He doesn’t say anything. You know that he’s mad.

You don’t say anything. He knows that you’re mad.

“You shouldn’t know” He finally speaks, looking at you, clenching his jaw. 

“I know” Because you do. You know that he’s been trying so hard to hide it from you that you almost lose your friendship, or maybe you already lost it.

“It’s dangerous” He adds

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” You ask him. You both know what you want to hear. I’m sorry for not telling you. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for getting you worried. I’m sorry for almost ruining our friendship.

“What else am I supposed to say?” He doesn’t meet your eyes. Not when you get up. Not when you throw the sweatshirt he’d lent you at him. Not when he barely catches it before it touches the floor. Not when you start to walk away.

“Way to go Parker” You mumble, walking down the stairs.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Hesitation, is killing me too

But I couldn't save it

I couldn't save it

"I didn't want her to get involved, it's dangerous, and I-" Peter is sitting in Gween’s bed, his Spiderman suit under his clothes, ready for the night guard. A week after his last conversation with you. 

"So you're just going to lose your friendship because of that?” Gween asks, her eyes going back and forth between Peter and her homework.

“I don’t want to lose her. I thought that if I wasn’t around her that much she wouldn't discover it” He admits, his eyes looking down at the mask in his hands.

“Do you think she’s stupid?” Gwen asks, knowing for a fact, that you aren’t stupid.

“That’s the thing. She’s too smart, and she found out even when I ignored her” He sighs, laying in the bed. “I don’t know what to do now. I can’t just go to her and apologise, can I?”

“You could try, but it better be the apologise of the century” She tells him, focused again on the papers before her.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Peter keeps thinking about that as he climbs out Gwen's window. While he's swinging between buildings. As he fights for his life. 

But, curiously, he doesn't think about it when he goes to your house, when he knocks on the window. He just does it, like you're a magnet who's attracting him, leaving him no choice but to get close to you. He does it as a reflex action. Like he knows that you'll always be there for him. 

And sadly, you will. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Is this the end of all the endings?

Peter used to go to your house when he couldn’t sleep, he just knocked on the window, waiting for you to get up and let him in. But you didn’t expect him to do it right now. Especially no in his Spiderman suit.

“What the fuck happened to you?” You ask him, not even bothering to close the window. Knowing that he’d close it for you. Like always.

He sits on your desk chair as you look for your first aid kit, the one that you’d bought when Peter started to skate.

"I'm hurt" He talks, slowly moving the chair close to the bed, where you're waiting with all the supplies. 

"Yeah no shit" You roll your eyes, carefully cleaning his wounds.

"I'm sorry" He suddenly says, after watching you in silence, admiring you as you healed him. 

You admire him too, his hands as he holds tight to the chair, his chest as he breathes in, as he breathes out. His face as you clean the blood out of it. The look in his eyes as you keep your hands on his face longer than necessary. 

"What are you doing here?" Your eyes go from his wounded chest to his eyes. 

"I missed you" You stop for a bit when he says that, and you're sure he notices, but you quickly bandage the wound and get up to get him some clothes. 

"It's not fair, it's not fucking fair that after everything you're just here. Telling me that you missed me. It's not fair Peter" You swear you can see something change in his eyes as he hears the name. "And I'm here, acting like nothing happened, like it's the fucking same, like my best fri-" You don't finish the word. "Like you aren't Spiderman. It's not fucking fair" 

You finally tell him, looking through your closet, like the fact that you're far from him will help you ignore the attraction you're feeling.

And then it hits you, you've felt like this for a while. You've been attracted to him for a while. And with everything that had happened, you couldn't stop and think about it.

Because maybe the fact that you lost your best friend hurts more than the fact that you're in love with him. Just maybe. 

"I know" He says as he gets up, walking to the bathroom to put on the clothes that you just gave him. He leaves a confused you cleaning your room, feeling your heart shrink a bit when you see all of the tissues covered in blood. 

After going to the kitchen to throw everything that you had used, you come back to Peter sitting in your bed. Looking at his hands, only looking away when you sit next to him.

“I’m sorry” He admits, almost in a whisper. 

“Stop saying that you’re sorry” You ask him. 

“But I really am” He whispers, again

“You should’ve thought of it before you… before everything” You look down, and then at him. 

“I know, but it’s not my fault that I’m Spiderman and I’m really sorry” You look away, slightly hurt by the fact that he thinks you would blame him for that.

“What are you even sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for lying to you, for ignoring you, for making you feel bad, for ruining our friendship” He says the last words like they hurt. “I’m sorry for everything, honestly. For talking the way I did about the Harry thing. For not apologising sooner. For ignoring you because of Gwen, who’s just my friend, by the way. I’m sorry” You don’t look at him, because if you do, you know you’ll do something stupid, like hugging him, or telling him that everything’s fine.

“I think you should go, maybe May is waiting for you” You get up, feeling his gaze on you as you continue to pack your suitcase.

“Why are you saying that after I apologised?” You let out a small laugh, looking through your t-shirts. 

“Do you think an apology solves everything?” You hear him sigh, passing a hand through his hair.

“I- What? No, I thought you’d be more understanding” You stop for a bit, breathing in and breathing out, trying to not get mad at him.

“What?” You turn around slowly.

“You always say that people deserve second chances” He says, afraid of what your reaction will be.

“And how many chances have I given you Peter, I could’ve fucking left you as soon as you started ignoring me. But no, you hug me and everything's okay, I’m your best friend again and we’re fine. Just for you to go and ignore me, again!. What the fuck do you want me to do? Have zero self respect and go back to you just because ‘you’re sorry’?. And don’t even talk about second chances, because you’d had so many fucking chances, and all you do is fuck it up!.” You throw a t-shirt into the suitcase. “If you want me to just forget everything just because you apologised, it better be the bigger apologise anyone has seen, because I’m so fucking tired of everything“ Now you throw a hoodie. “All I ever wanted was for you to be honest, but you couldn’t even do that, so I just, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Where are you going?” He says, like he just noticed that you're packing your things. Catching a t-shirt before it can land into the suitcase.

“Are you telling me that that’s the part you chose to care about?” You ask him, snatching the t-shirt from his hands and throwing it in the suitcase again. Just for him to catch it.

“Yeah, where are you going?” He raises his arm above his head when you try to steal the fabric from his hands.

"You're fucking unbelievable Peter, I'm going to my aunts" You finally catch your T-shirt and put it on the suitcase. 

"What? You won't be happy there?" He replies. 

“And who says I'm happy here?” You don't look at him as you pick up another T-shirt from your closet. When you turn around, Peter’s emptying your suitcase. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Don’t be immature, just stay here, there’s no need to go there” He pushes your hands when you try to stop him.

“Oh, so I’m being the immature one? Sorry, Mr. I didn’t want my best friend to find out that I’m Spiderman so I just stopped talking to her” You put the clothes that he’s putting on the floor into the suitcase, just as he does the opposite in front of you.

“Oh, I have to get Harry to walk me home because I can’t do it alone” He replies, determined to unpack your suitcase.

“Oh, I can’t even text my best friend to tell her that I ditched her because I was with other girl”

“I already told you we’re just friends. Are you jealous?” He looks at you for a moment, making you take advantage of him and quickly fill up your suitcase.

“You wish I was jealous” You give up, and just watch as Peter empties your suitcase. “Stop being immature and go home”

“Maybe I do wish that you'd be jealous” He drawls, looking down at his work(your clothes on the floor).

“Just go home” You say again, getting up and walking to your closet. He quickly gets up again, and you think is to leave, but he’s next to you immediately.

“I didn’t want you to worry, or be in danger. So it was better to just stop talking to you, because I didn’t have to see your face when you saw the bruises. And I just couldn’t stand the fact that if you knew, you’d be in danger. And I know I fucked up, I’m sorry, I regret it everyday, I just want us to be okay” He admits, looking down at you.

“Are you fucking stupid?” You look at him, confused. “You didn’t want me to worry? So you just ignored me? You’re the dumbest person I’ve ever known. What if something happened to you? What if you fucking died? I’ll be here not knowing that it was because you’re fucking Spiderman –I mean, I would’ve figured it out, but still–. And the ‘being in danger’ shit, I have no fucking words, you think I care about that? You’re so fucking stupid Peter” You turn around and pick your clothes from the floor as you mutter ‘so fucking stupid’.

“You still care about me?” He asks, looking at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.

“You’re actually dumb…” You consider. “Of course I do” His eyes light up.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He gets closer to you.

“No, I’m still waiting for the biggest apology anyone has ever seen” You start to pack your clothes again.

“You’re still going?” He frowns.

“Yes, I’m leaving tomorrow, so, goodbye Peter” You finish packing and you stay there, looking through the window, where Peter was just minutes ago. 

And you know that he is really sorry, but you couldn't give it to him that easily. You'll forgive him as soon as you see the biggest apology you've ever seen.

Because you miss him, you miss your best friend, the guy you've been pining over for a year, the guy who used to walk you home everyday. You miss the insignificant fights you'd have about the homework, about the movie you'll see. You miss Peter Parker. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

You think about last night as you watch through the window of the taxi, about how close your bodies were for a moment, about everything he said, about the jealous thing. About the fact that you’re still waiting for his apology.

That’s when you see it, the biggest apology you’ve ever seen. Just in front of you everyone, but just for you. After you tell the driver to stop the car you get out of it as soon as possible, looking at the “I’m sorry” made of webs.

Just when you start to look around, Peter grabs you, and you honestly don’t know how but you end up above the words. Looking at him, and hugging him, because, it’s so fucking scary.

“I’m sorry” He says, after taking out his mask. Looking at you with soft eyes.

“I can tell” You say, looking at his eyes, just so you don’t look down, and because you missed his eyes. 

“Is that the biggest apology you’ve ever seen?” He asks, suddenly nervous.

“Yes it is” You talk as you look around you, observing the city. “You’re fucking Spiderman, that’s unbelievable, like, out of all the people, you, that’s so fucking crazy” When you look back at him, he looks like he isn’t breathing. “Yes, Pete, I forgive you, I thought about last night and it was kinda funny, you know? The whole suitcase situation. I missed that, I missed you”

Once the words leave your mouth he smiles like he just won a contest and hugs you. He hugs you like he hasn’t done in a while, and you hug him back, happy to have your best friend back.

“Yeah, I get it, but, um, could we get down? Love the views, but it’s scary” You say, smiling. 

“Shit, yes sure” He seems to remember where you two are and puts the mask on before taking you to the taxi.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

"I'm sorry" Peter says as he sits on your bed. 

"Don't apologise" You tell him, cleaning the wounds on his neck. 

"I'll buy you another first aid kit" You smile, patching up his face. 

"Well, I hope I won't need it" He chuckles a bit, knowing that you probably will have to. 

"Thank you" 

"I'm your best friend Peter, and I have morals, if Spider-man was on my window dying I'll help him" 

"What if it's a fake Spider-man?" He grins through the pain. 

"You think I won't recognise you?" You ask, indicating him to roll down the top of his suit so you can look at the wounds. "Does it hurt?" You look at the bruises on his side.

"I'm better now" He slowly gets up and grabs the clothes you let out for him. 

"I'm glad" You smile, cleaning and throwing everything you've used. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, already in normal clothes, you're in bed, scrolling down your phone. 

"I should leave" He says as he picks up his backpack. 

"Stay here Peter" You talk, patting the space you left him next to you. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother" He says, even though he's smiling. 

"Yes, I'm sure" You don't bother to look up your phone. "There's a lot of gossip we have to discuss"

You do look up your phone when he lays down next to you and covers both of you with the blanket. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

You notice people staring at you as you enter the house. You follow Peter through the crowd, and wonder if the music and the smell of alcohol are bothering him. 

"I'll get something to drink" Peter talks through the music, once you've found a not so packed corner in one of the rooms. 

"If you insist" You smile back at him as he walks away. 

You're looking at his back when someone approaches you. 

"What are you doing here alone?" Some guy asks you, leaning on the wall behind you.

"Who said I was alone?" You reply, not smiling, rather grimacing from the smell of alcohol he gives off. 

"Well, I don't see anyone around right now" He says, looking around, ignoring the fact that you're not even looking at him. 

"Maybe it's because I don't wanna talk to anyone" You simply answer. 

"You're kicking me out?" He still smiles, even though he wants to look offended. 

"I don't know, am I?" You give him a fake smile, just before Peter appears with two cups, and after you grab one, he passes his arm around your waist, facing that guy. 

"So you weren't alone" The guy mutters, looking at Peter's arm around you. 

"If you wanted to keep her company, you can leave, I'm already here" Peter grinns, oblivious to the look the guy gives him before turning around to bother someone else. 

"What was that?" Peter doesn't answer, instead he pulls away and grabs your hand, leading you upstairs, to one of the balconies of the house. "What was that?" You ask again, seeing that he's too focused on his cup. 

"He was bothering you" He simply answers, smiling at you, as you both sit on the floor, leaning your back on the wall. 

"How did you know that? Maybe I was having a good time" You question, smiling back at him. 

"With that look on your face? I doubt it" He raises an eyebrow before raising the cup to his lips. 

"Maybe that's my way of flirting. Showing no interest. They seem to like that" You shrug, smiling. 

"So you were flirting?" His jaw tightens a bit, looking directly at you. 

"What if I was?" You hold his gaze, waiting for any kind of reaction.

But the only thing he does is take out a bottle of alcohol from under his jacket. "What the fuck?" You smile, taking it from as he hands it to you. 

"Though it'd be nice to have something just for us" He smiles as you pour it in your cups. 

"But you didn't answer" You remind him. 

"I mean, I'm your best friend, I have to approve them first" He jokes. 

"That's the reason?" You half close your eyes. 

"Yes" He looks away, drinking. 

"You sure? No other reason?" You insist, stretching out your arm to poke his cheek. 

"Yes" He moves away, fighting his smile. 

"Are you really sure?" You scoot over to be closer to him, still poking his cheek. 

"Yes, I'm sure, okay?" He finally lets the smile out and grabs your wrist as he pulls away. 

"No, not okay, I don't believe you" You try to get your hand free, but he holds it tighter. 

"Why don't you believe me?" He asks you. 

"You don't seem believable" You smile, looking at him as you drink. 

"Maybe it's you who doesn't want to believe me" He talks back. 

"Maybe" You shrug. 

"But for what reason?" He insists, leaning to see your face. 

"I don't know" You sigh, drinking the rest of your cup. "But it's true that you don't seem believable" 

"So you don't believe me and I don't believe you, we're even" He smiles, knowing there’s no point in trying to get you to talk.

"I guess" You smile back at him.

At some point, maybe when you're talking about the stars or when you finish the bottle. You find yourself on Peter's lap, his lips on yours and his hands on your hair. 

You feel the grip he has on you, and how his lips go to your neck, you also feel him smirking against your skin. 

And you also hear someone knocking on the door, making you pull away immediately. 

You don't talk, not when you get up, or when he holds your hand to lead you through the people. You talk when he's walking you home. 

"Can we not talk about that?" You ask, a hand on your neck to feel the hickey he gave you. 

"Why?" He says, looking at the hand on your neck, and remembering how it felt to do that.

"We were drunk, Peter, it was a mistake" You remind him. 

"Yeah, sure, we won't talk about it" He says, and maybe he means it, because even when he's drunk, he hasn't forgotten about the fact that he's spiderman. 

He tries to not be obvious when he's saying goodbye to you, but you still notice him looking at it. 

"Peter, stop looking" He smiles. 

"I'm not looking" He says, looking directly at your neck. 

"You're drunk" You remind him, giving him your back to open your door. 

"Kinda" He replies, grinning. 

"You should stay" When you turn around, he's still smiling. "Peter if you talk about it i'll kick you out" You remind him as you close the door, both of you already inside. 

"Maybe it's worth it" He stops smiling when you leave him alone and walk to your room, mumbling something about a 'mistake', that's all he could hear. 

But he keeps his promise and doesn't talk about it. He wants to, but he conforms with having you under his arm while you watch a movie. 

He doesn't talk about the next days either, not even when you put makeup on your neck to hide it. And weeks pass, but neither of you have forgotten about it. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

You were walking home from Harry's, after saying goodbye to him, who leaves tomorrow. Peter's walking by your side. He's huffily talking about the fact that some classmate of yours never stops talking. 

"You also talk in class" You remind him, rubbing your hands together to get some warmth in them, you accidentally left your gloves in Harry's house, you already texted him to consider it a parting gift. 

"Yeah, to you, it's not the same" He says, taking the glove of his right hand off. 

"Why not?" You ask when you see what he's doing. "What are you doing, you're gonna get cold" You say, walking away from him when he tries to give you his glove. 

"At least let me give you one" He replies, and he's faster than you, so he quickly grabs your right wrist and puts the glove on. 

"What about your other hand?" You ask, still refusing to make him cold, even though he's Spiderman, so it's not that of a problem. 

"You'll grab it, and then it won't be cold, okay?" He doesn't give you a chance to protest as he grabs your ungloved hand and starts walking to his house. "And it's not the same because you're worth talking to"

"You're biassed" You tell him, smiling.

"Me? I'd never, how dare you say that" He puts the hand you're not holding in his chest, acting offended.

“Of course you’d never, you react the same when I talk and when Flash talks” You remind him, looking at the snow on the floor.

“That’s because you’re not a shitty person” He says, suddenly grumpy when he talks about him.

“You say that ‘cause you’re I’m your best friend” You look at him.

“Everyone can tell that you’re a good person” He says, genuinely,

“You’re still biassed” You remind him.

“Nonsense, even if I wasn’t your best friend I could still tell that you are a good person” He seems ready to defend his argument with his life.

“How could you tell that?” You ask, curious.

“Because of your aura” You look at him, sceptical “And because you’re pretty” You look away, so he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. But of course he notices, and of course he smiles. Because neither of you have forgotten the ‘maybe I wish you were jealous’ thing, or the fact that you made out at that party. 

You don’t say anything, instead, you urge him to walk faster so you can get in his house already. When you walk in, you're greeted by Aunt May, who gives you a big hug. 

"Oh sweetie, I missed you so much, you should've told me and I'd make sure that Peter isn't dumb, you're the best that has ever happened to him, I can't believe he almost lost you. Men are so stupid sometimes" She talks as she gives his nephews a bad look. 

“Thanks Aunt May” He says, taking off his coat before helping you take off your own as soon as May breaks the hug. “My own family is against me, I can’t believe it”

“It’s okay” You assure her “I could handle him on my own. And they’re really dumb sometimes” You agree with her before following Peter to his room.

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

After finishing your homework, gossiping and playing video games, you’re both on Peter’s roof, a blanket around both of you as you watch the sunset.

“What about bug-boy, web-head, spidey?” Peter shakes his head with each nickname. “I don’t care, I like spidey”

“Really? I’d prefer bug-boy honestly” He admits, making you smile before looking at your phone, who just made a notification sound.

“What the fuck?” You mutter.

“What?” Peter asks, leaning over your shoulder to see what you’re talking about.

“Flash just asked me on a date?” You say, still looking at your phone.

“Why does he have your number?” He frowns.

“That’s what you care about, really?” You look at him, and you roll your eyes when you see, that, in fact, that’s what he cares about. “I used to tutor him”

“Oh” He seems to relax, but then he frowns again “Didn’t you reject him once?” 

“Yes, but he quite didn’t believe that I didn’t like him, so as a last resource, I told him I had a boyfriend” You tell him, looking at your phone, thinking about a way to turn him down.

“And he just believed you? He didn’t ask who he was?” He says, asking himself why he didn’t know any of this.

“I mean, yes” You doubt before talking. “I told him I was dating you, and I also told him that if he ever bothered you again then he’d actually never have a chance with me, so, yeah” You rant, and when he doesn’t say anything, you keep talking. “I guess he saw that we weren’t that close anymore and assumed we broke up”

“And he just- he believed it? He didn’t question it?” He frowns again.

“Actually, he said that it made sense and walked away” You shrug, looking at your phone.

“What? Do we look like a couple?” He asks and prays that you don’t look up to see the smile on his face.

“Should I tell him that we’re back together?” You avoid the question.

“That’d work” He waits to talk again after you type your response.“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

“Didn’t seem important” You don’t look at him, instead, you look at your phone, which seems to make him lose his patience. So he grabs the hand you’re using to grab your phone and puts it down between both of you, with his on top.

“It didn’t seem important that people could think that we’re dating?” He asks, thanking the sound of the birds, because he thinks that if it were silence, you could hear his heartbeat.

“Does it bother you?” He almost jumps with the assumption.

“What?- Are you crazy?, no- Why would that bother me?. Does it bother you? Well I don’t think so because you’re the one that said it. But it definitely doesn’t bother me. Like, I’d be honoured if someone came to me and asked ‘Are you dating Y/n’. Actually, I’d be more honoured if we were dating for real, you know?” He stops his ranting when he notices what he just said, and just closes his eyes, thinking about swinging out of this situation. 

When you don’t say anything, he looks at you, seeing you wide-eyed, fighting a smile.

“Is that your way to ask me to be your girlfriend?” He doesn’t answer, he just looks at your mouth, just as you look at his mouth, who’s fighting to say something.

But the words don’t come out of his mouth, instead, he gets closer to you, and you back down a bit, slightly opening your mouth, looking down at his.

“Easy bug-boy” You smile, reminding the wound you cleaned up just a few hours ago. Also reminding him that you’re supposed to be his best friend.

“What’d you call me?” He whispers, laughing before sighing, so mesmerised by you. You smile, and back away, feeling like you’re in heaven when he sighs again.

“You said you liked that, I could call you Spidey if you wante-” You stop talking, his lips almost touching yours. The hand that was on top of your, goes to one side on your neck. “Peter, we shouldn't” You talk, trying to not lose your breath almost.

“I know” He drawls. And that’s when you give in. His lips go to your neck and you can’t take it anymore. When he’s in front of you again, you stop backing away and lean forward.

When your lips meet you feel like you’re going to die. The cold that you were feeling goes away. And you don’t care anymore about the people that could see you.

You just focus on his mouth, so needy for you. His hands, touching you to make sure you won't go away. His body, practically hovering over you. 

He's fighting so bad his impulses to not bite your lip, because he's been waiting for this for a long time. But he does anyway, and he seems proud of himself when he hears the sound you make. 

His hand moves to the back of your neck, and he moves your head so he can kiss you better. You let him do whatever he wants, and you groan when he stops kissing you. 

He laughs after seeing your face, and his lips go to your neck immediately. His other hand goes to your waist, and while you use one to support your body, the other goes to Peter's hair. Which you keep touching when his lips are touching yours again. 

He's practically on top of you, and he's about to make you lay down, but you hear someone walking down the street. 

So you pull away, and after realising what you just did, both of your hands leave each others body immediately. 

"That was a bad idea" You say, barely breathing. 

"I'm in love with you" The breath you just catched goes away, and his eyes search for your gaze after he rants. "I'm so in love with you I don't think it's normal. Because you're so, perfect, and I know I don't deserve you"

"Don't say that" You frown. 

"You're too nice and I'm so…" He looks at his hands. 

"Peter, don't say that" You repeat. 

"And I know it's selfish for me to tell you, but we just kissed" He smiles. "And I get it if you don't feel the same but-" You don't give him a chance to continue talking, instead. You grab his face with your hands and kiss him again. This time it's softer, and you just wish that he gets what you mean. You hope that he knows that you're also in love with him, that you love him so much you want to die. 

When you pull away, you rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes, because you're sure that the intensity of his gaze might decompose you. 

"I love you so much you don't get it. And don't ever say that you don't deserve me. You're so…" You sigh, not able to express it right now. "I'm in love with you, Peter"

"Are you sure?" You look at him, actually wondering if he's being for real. 

"We just kissed?" You tell him, to make sure if he remembers. 

"You kiss a lot of people that you don't love" He says, thinking about the parties you used to attend every weekend. 

"Did you give me a hickey?" You ask, touching your neck. 

"You're changing the subject" He closes his eyes halfway. You sigh. 

"You're the one changing the subject" You talk back. 

"Why would I change the subject?" He sounds offended, even though he's smiling. 

"Because you don't want to believe that I'm in love with you" He smiles  "Because you think you don't deserve me" He stops smiling "Which is the dumbest thing you've ever said, and it's saying something, because you say a lot of stupid shit" He smiles again. 

"Because it's true, it's dangerous, what would they do knowing that you're Spiderman's girlfriend?" He stops smiling, and looks away, regretting everything. 

"I'm already your best friend" You remind him. 

"It wouldn't be the same, they love that cliche where they get the hero's girlfriend" He scowls. 

"They probably think we're already dating" You see him fighting a smile. 

"But still-" You roll your eyes, tired of this. 

"I'm sure, I'm in love with you" You tell him. And he smiles, he looks so fucking happy, especially when he talks again. 

"I did, in fact, give you a hickey" He looks at it, and grabs your wrist when you try to hit him. He doesn't let it go, instead, he puts it down and grabs your hand. "Does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?" 

"No, we just ate each other's faces and confessed our love but I won't be your girlfriend, idiot" You say, sarcastically. 

"Is that how you talk to the boy you love? No wonder you're single" He rolls his eyes. 

"We aren't even together and you're already leaving me" You frown, but it quickly turns into a smile. 

"I would never" He assures. 

"Yes Peter, I want to be your girlfriend"

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

"Weren't you already dating?" Is what uncle Ben and aunt May ask you when you walk in holding hands a week later. 

"What? No" You both say, at the same time. 

"Oh, congratulations then" May says, having an excuse to hug both of you again. 

"Took you long enough to get the girl" Ben says, but smiles anyway, giving Peter's back a pat. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

It’s nice to have a friend

You were walking around Peter's room, he just came back from his usual duty as Spider-man, and was finishing some homework. 

"This is new" You tell him, taking a book out of the bookcase, and showing it to him. 

"What?" He looks up, and when he sees what's in your hand, his face goes red. Making you frown. 

"What's this?" You ask him, smiling as he gets up slowly, afraid that a sudden move might make you open the book. 

"Nothing" He lies, walking a step forward, making you back away immediately. 

"That's not true, what is it?" You ask again, and before you can look at the book, it flies away from your hand. When you look at Peter, he's taking the webs out of the cover. 

"Nothing" This time you're the one who walks forward, closing your eyes halfway.

“What are you hiding?” You’re getting closer to him, actually afraid that he might jump out of the window.

“What do you mean? I’m not hiding anything” He talks as he hides the book behind his back. Once you’re in front of him, he sticks the book on the ceiling and grabs your face so he can kiss it when you look upward.

“Kisses are not going to get you out of this, why are you so embarrassed of a book?” You don’t move when he continues kissing you.

“I’m not embarrassed” You look at his face, almost as red as his suit. “And how are you going to get it out of there anyway?” 

“I’m sure May would love to see that” You start to walk away when he wraps his arms around you, laughing.

"Promise you won't laugh at me" He talks, with his arms still hugging you. 

"I promise" You assure him, and after he hears it, he jumps and effortlessly sticks to the ceiling, grabbing the book. 

He gives it to you and turns around, muttering something about homework. 

When you open it you see a lot of pictures, professional ones, polaroids, and even printed from his phone. There's photos of both of you together, of you, and of the things that you like. 

Photos of you trying to do your makeup, reading in class, studying, sleeping, crying from laughter. You petting a dog, a cat, running away from a bug. You holding a test that has a 100 written on it. You sitting on a bench while reading a book. 

Selfies that you took when he was distracted, when he was texting Flash to leave you alone, when you arrived at your first party. Photos of him doing homework while you sat in his bed. There's one of May and you trying to bake while Peter and Ben are trying to help. You kissing his cheek, and him kissing yours. 

Photos of the flowers you saw on the street once and said that you like, a certain street that gave you good vibes, some of the drawings you made of both of you in class. Photos of the matching keychains you made for you to share. 

Apart from the date in which the photo was taken, there's annotations under every single photo. Some of them say 'I love you so much', or, 'You fell down right after I took this photo'. 

He put his thoughts under each picture, even when it's just 'You look hot in this one'. And that photo was from when you two were just best friends. He also put 'I made that ;)' under the photo where you can see a hickey on your neck. 

The book is full of every moment of your friendship, even when that moment was you trying to cut Peter's hair. There was everything, sad thoughts, happy thoughts, normal teenager thoughts. 

After you look at every single page, you look up to see Peter watching you. 

"Do you think I'm crazy?" He asks after you two just stare at each other. 

'What? Why would I think that?" You frown, sitting next to him in his bed. 

"Because I made that" He avoids your gaze. 

"And it's beautiful Peter, I love it, it's amazing" You hug his side, leaving the book on the chair. 

"Are you lying?" He asks and you laugh, rolling your eyes

"You're the dumbest person I know" You lay down as you talk, making him lay down next to you, he turns around so you're facing each other. 

"You say that a lot" He frowns, looking almost offended. 

"Because it's true, why would I lie? I love it" You see him fighting a smile. 

"Thank you" He stops fighting and grins. 

"Did you really think I looked hot that day? I remember that you took a lot of photos" He hugs you and hides his face on your neck, and laughs. 

"Really?" He talks with his face still on your neck. 

"Yes, because if I remember well, we were best friends, you know? Do you think it's normal thinking about your best friend that way?" You grab his face in your hands, making him look at you as you talk. 

"Like you're one to talk" He rolls his eyes. 

"I'm sorry? I've never thought that" You add, innocently. 

"Because I didn't see you almost drool when I wore that outfit you bought me" You smile thinking about it, wondering how you got him to accept your gift. 

"You looked hot, you should wear it again" You smile, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. 

"Didn't you say you never thought that?" He closes his eyes halfway, leaning in to kiss you again. 

"But we're already dating, dumbass" You smile

"Right"

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

They said the end is coming

"What if something happens to you because of me?" You see him trying to hold the tears in his eyes. 

"No, listen, listen-" You try to talk, but he doesn't seem to care. 

"No, wait, wait, wait" He cuts you off, not willing to let you talk. "I cannot let that happen"

"Listen to me" You get closer to him, so he has no choice but to lean on the wall behind him. "You're Spider-Man, and I love that. But I love Peter Parker more, I always loved you, with no Spider bite and all, with glasses, contact lenses or whatever, that's not gonna change" You search for his gaze. "That's worth it to me"

"I can't lose you" He says, looking directly into your eyes. 

"If because you can't lose me, we can't be together, who does that work out for, Peter?" You ask, already knowing the answer. 

"I can't, I'm sorry Y/n" You look away, laughing as the tears begin to fill your eyes. 

"Wow. You've done this to me again and again Peter. I can't live like this" You take a step backwards as you talk.

"I know, I'm sorry" He doesn't move, instead, he looks at you. "We should break up" He says, so quietly that you have to lean forwards to make sure you heard him right. 

"What?" You ask him. 

"We should break up" You stare at him, not showing any emotion. 

"No" You simply say, crossing your arms. 

"What?- You can't say no to a break up?" He frowns. 

"I can, and I do, we are not breaking up" You remind him. 

"Y/n… It's for the best" He looks down. 

"No" You cross your arms. He sighs, passing a hand through his hair. 

"Look-"

"I said I can't live like this, but not in that way. You can break up with me when you stop loving me, or when being with me hurts you. But not because of self sabotaging" You don’t talk for a second, letting him process the information. “So, I’m gonna go, talk to me when you don’t want to break up with me”

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

When you open your shared playlist the morning after, you see that the most recent added song is Afterglow-Taylor Swift

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

Everyone’s up to something

You don’t see Peter until the night after your ‘break up’. He is on your door, with flowers in his hands and sorrys on his lips.

“I’m sorry” He talks as you let him in, scanning his body for new bruises.

“Are you okay?” You ask, grabbing the flowers to put them in a vase. 

“You’re too good for me” He mutters as you lead him to the couch, making him sit next to you.

“Stop saying that” You remind him, grabbing his hand.

“I’m sorry” He looks at you, nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“You came here to tell me something, didn’t you?” He nods, still looking for madness in your eyes. “Then do it”

“I don’t want to break up with you, but I don’t want to lose you. If something happened to you because of me, I’d never forgive me. But you make me happy, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, I don’t want to lose you” He hugs you, not sure if you’re the one who’s going to break up with him.

“You won’t lose me Peter, they won’t hurt me, if I survived Flash’s tries to flirt with me, I’ll survive anything. I promise” He stays silent for a moment, chuckling at the Flash's mention. Then, he talks.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

He stays there for the night, giving you nothing but kisses, hugs and sweet nothings. 

🕸   ⊹    ⋆

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings 

“Shut up” Peter says, finally getting up from the chair and walking to his bed, where you're laying. 

“No, I’m being for real, hear me out” He suddenly lies on top of you, leaving you unable to get up, but you keep talking. “We make T-shirts with exclusive pictures, and boom, we’re rich”

“You really want to sell my pictures?” He puts his head on your chest, closing his eyes. 

“What about one with no shirt and the mask, to keep your identity safe-” Even though he’s not looking, he can feel your smile as he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Let’s sleep” You laugh, pulling his hand away from your face.

“We could be rich” You remind him.

“Shut up” He chuckles, lifting his head to look at you.

“Okay, maybe not sell them to the press, but” He waits for you to finish, raising his 

eyebrows.

“Don’t you think Flash would want a T-shirt from the actual Spiderman?”

He doesn’t react for a moment, considering if you’re being serious or not, then, he kisses you, a quick peck, giving you no time to react.

“I’m so in love with you” He says, his head on your chest again.

"I'm so in love with you too" You tell him, with your hand through his hair.

[zelcii]

love me anyway | peter hayes

peter leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he watched you from across the pit. you were laughing with the others, your smile wide and effortless, but something about the glint in your eyes always seemed bittersweet. it was as if the laughter was a mask, hiding the truth of your candor-born honesty that seeped through every gesture and expression. you could never quite hide the truth seeping behind the way you smiled, another layer of your candor-born honesty peeking out from under every facade you put on. not that it could be helped. the truth bled from the very way looked, very words you breathed. 

he loved it. how you were basically an intricate scrapbook, pieced together by every person who had ever touched your life, every place you had ever belonged to, and every passion that had ever stirred your heart. you were a patchwork of experiences, raw and honest, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to the way you carried all of it so transparently, even when you tried to hide.

he had always been a problem. for many people, but especially for you. you were no stranger to peter hayes, growing eerily familiar to his sharp edges and cruel humor as it had been a constant presence in your life. after all, you were born in the same faction, hung around the same groups of people, followed the same set of rules. even more, your mother had never liked him. since the two of you were young he'd seem to constantly be one second away from breaking whatever—or whoever—it was in front of him. you used to think you hated him for his arrogance. for how cruel he could be, his tendency to belittle the people that cared for him.

but then you chose dauntless. with one swift cut of the ordaining knife, it wasn’t just your tender, naive skin that was cut—it was every tie to the life you once knew. suddenly, peter hayes, the only person you’ve ever despised, became the only constant factor in your life. he was the one unchanging thread that connected you to both your past and present. you tried to forget your life from before, how things were. but it was hard to admit that the only person you could blame was yourself for wanting to leave.

"staring again," christina’s voice sliced through your thoughts, jolting you back to the present. you blinked, reluctantly tearing your gaze away from peter, who was leaning casually against a wall. he was like an island of calm amidst the chaos that spread across the dauntless pit, his posture relaxed and his expression unreadable.

"i wasn’t," you insisted, but the words felt hollow even as they left your lips. your candor was a relentless betrayer, with every twitch of your mouth or flicker in your eyes revealing the truth you tried so hard to conceal. christina’s gaze sharpened with amusement, catching the subtle giveaway in your demeanor.

"right. c’mon, candor," she quipped, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm as she nudged you gently with her elbow. "may the truth set you free," she mocked with a smirk, her tone light but knowing. “you’ve got it bad.”

you shook your head, trying to mount a defense. "i don’t," you said, but your protest lacked the firmness you’d hoped for. peter had been the object of your intrigue since you’d met him in summer camp, the boy that used to look at you with such passion. the boy you promised your mother that you’d never even think of talking to. that undeniable truth seeped through the cracks of your words, finding its way into the spaces you desperately tried to guard. still, from across the room, he stared with that familiar passion.

christina’s grin widened, clearly finding amusement in your discomfort. she followed your gaze back to peter, who remained fixed on you with a knowing smirk. it was as if he thrived on every flicker of attention you gave him, the curve of his lips revealing his awareness. he seemed to relish in the fact that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, savoring the way his presence bothered you.

"besides, he’s a total jerk," you said, your voice trailing off as you tried to mask your uncertainty. the effort to convince yourself sounded more like a feeble excuse than a genuine assertion. you fixed your gaze away from peter, forcing yourself to focus on his flaws—his arrogance, the cruel edge in his humor, the narcissism he wielded with such practiced ease. yet, despite your best intentions, all you could think about was his lingering touch and your stolen glances. you failed at every attempt to distance yourself. it was as if he was fully aware of the internal battle you were waging and took a twisted pleasure in it.

you remembered an instance from a few nights ago.

you’d been crying in the communal bathrooms, the cold tiles beneath you doing nothing to ease the burning sensation behind your eyes. it had been a bad day—training had pushed you to your limit, the weight of your decision to leave candor pressed down hard, and the overwhelming newness of dauntless was closing in from all sides.

the tears had come suddenly, without warning, and once they started, you couldn’t stop them. you didn’t want to cry—not here, not in a place where showing weakness was as good as painting a target on your back. but you were alone, or so you thought, and it had been too much to keep inside.

then you heard the door creak open. you immediately wiped your face, hurriedly trying to compose yourself, when you heard his voice.

"didn’t expect to find you here," peter’s voice was low, casual, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite place. you assumed it was taunting.

your first instinct was defensiveness. after years of being taught to hate him, after years of believing he was nothing but cruel and self-serving, you bristled at his presence. you had no idea why he was here, and the last thing you needed was to deal with peter hayes right now.

“go away, peter,” you muttered, not even bothering to look up at him. your voice came out more bitter than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. it was habit. you’d spent years convincing yourself that he was the last person you could rely on. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. you expected him to leave—maybe with a sharp remark, something that would sting, something that would remind you exactly who he was and why you should stay far away from him. but he didn’t. instead, you felt him sit down beside you, close enough for his presence to be known but not close enough to make you uncomfortable.

he didn’t speak. he didn’t tease or push. he just sat there, quiet, waiting.

you didn’t want to give in. you didn’t want to let your guard down around him, of all people. but the longer he stayed, the harder it became to keep your defenses up. the weight of the day, the exhaustion, and the relentless pressure of everything finally caught up with you. you couldn’t hold back anymore.

before you even realized what was happening, you leaned against him. your body moved on instinct, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, the sobs breaking free as the tears fell hot and heavy.

to your surprise, peter didn’t pull away. he didn’t make a comment or a joke at your expense. instead, his arm came up, hesitating for just a second before wrapping around you. his grip was firm, and he pulled you in close—just enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours. he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pry or ask questions. he just stayed there, silent and steady, letting you cry.

it wasn’t what you expected. peter was supposed to be cruel, detached, distant. but in that moment, none of that mattered. he was just there, holding you together when you felt like everything else was falling apart.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, your body trembling from the release of everything you’d been holding inside. but eventually, the sobs began to subside, and you found yourself breathing a little easier, the storm inside you starting to calm.

you pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes still red and swollen from crying. “why do you do this?” you asked, your voice small and hoarse from the tears. you genuinely didn’t understand. “why do you… why are you here?”

peter’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw, something unguarded in his gaze. then, with a small, almost playful smirk, he shrugged. “don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “you know i love you.”

the words were so simple, so casually said, that they took you by surprise. but there was no sarcasm in his tone, no bite to his words. he was sincere, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear as if the words were meant to be a secret shared only between the two of you. then, with a sudden rush of either reckless confidence or desperate longing, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss just behind your ear. the tenderness of it sent a shiver down your spine. “let me be here,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, though it carried a note of quiet vulnerability. he was trying to convey reassurance, but the raw emotion in his voice felt closer to a quiet, earnest plea. 

christina said that that was when you started staring. 

you’d seen a side of him you never thought to imagine and you craved for more. but he was peter hayes. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything. not for you, not for anyone. he tried to convince himself that as well as he savoured the feeling of your soft skin on his lips. yet, there he was, aching for something he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. something that made his heart race every time you was near, something that made him want to push you away and pull you closer all at once. your love.

he turned to you then, his hand brushing yours just barely, but it was enough to make his pulse quicken. you locked eyes, and for a second, and suddenly everything else that happened outside of the bathrooms faded away. he could feel your heartbeat in the air between you, the way your breath hitched, the way you wanted him to say something, anything. but he couldn’t. not yet. so he just sat there, his lips twitching into a smirk, masking everything he wasn’t ready to say.

christina’s expression shifted to one of knowing amusement, her eyebrow arching in a way that made it clear she wasn’t buying your story. "yeah, and yet here you are, still thinking about him. denial is just another form of obsession, you know."

"i am not obsessed," you snapped, a little too loudly. you tried to sound more forceful than you felt. but even to your own ears, the argument wore thin. the truth was, no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, peter had managed to engrave himself into your thoughts, lingering at the edge of your consciousness like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch.

christina’s hand landed on your shoulder, the gesture both comforting and teasing. her eyes held a mix of sympathy and amusement, as if she could see right through your carefully constructed facade. "sure, keep telling yourself that," she said, her tone light but tinged with a gentle sincerity. "but pretending isn’t the same as believing."

you didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on your hands, which were twisting nervously in your lap. christina wasn’t wrong. the tension between you and peter was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to vibrate with an intensity everyone could feel when the two of you were near. 

glancing back at peter, you found him still observing you from across the pit. his gaze cut through the chaotic swirl of faces and noise, landing squarely on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible. it wasn’t just a casual glance; it was as if he was deeply engrossed, his eyes soft and thoughtful, carrying an unmistakable trace of what you dared call admiration. the smirk was gone now, replaced by an expression that seemed to reveal more than he usually let on—a look that made your heart flutter against your will. 

you shifted uncomfortably, unable to shake the feeling that his gaze was dissecting every fragment of your carefully guarded emotions. in that moment, the air between you felt charged, filled with something unspoken that neither of you were ready to confront. and even as you tried to look away, his eyes seemed to follow, holding a soft, thoughtful reverence that you found both disconcerting and oddly comforting.

you reminded yourself that, no matter how warm you felt under his gaze or how infatuated you were with him, peter was still peter—the same boy who had mocked your family’s dedication to order and laughed at others’ missteps under the guise of “honesty.” his usual sarcasm and cruelty were just parts of his carefully constructed facade, a shield designed to guard against any real vulnerability.

but the way he treated you was different now in dauntless. there was always a softness in his gaze, a subtle consideration that contrasted with his usual demeanor. it made you question if beneath his cold exterior, there was a part of him that genuinely cared, revealing a side of him that was far less indifferent than he let on. it made you wonder if he wasn’t as cold as he wanted everyone to believe.

regardless, you knew you would never, in every sense of the word, let yourself fall for peter hayes. he was supposed to be a horrible person.

… but on one particularly exhausting night, after another grueling day of training, you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find any solace in sleep. the unfamiliarity of dauntless gnawed at you, and the weight of leaving candor behind seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour. not that you’d ever blatantly admit it, but the new environment was overwhelming. despite your best efforts to adapt, the relentless pressure was starting to crack your composure.

in the dead of night, you awoke with a start, your heart pounding and a deep sense of unease settling over you. you stumbled out of bed, the darkness amplifying your anxiety as you wandered through the dimly lit corridors of dauntless. just as the silence seemed to stretch endlessly, a soft knock broke the stillness, echoing against the cold concrete walls. there, at the end of the hall, stood peter. he stood as tall as ever, but his touch was unexpectedly gentle. his hand brushed lightly against the small of your back, pulling you a bit closer, and the warmth of his skin contrasted sharply with the chill of the night air. 

though your eyes were still heavy with sleep, you could see the rare softness in his gaze, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. “hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and raspy, but surprisingly soothing. “you okay?”

“just can’t sleep,” you mumbled, rubbing your tired eyes. you could’ve been meaner, you could’ve tried harder to push him away but you convinced yourself you were too tired to. 

even you knew you were lying. 

without a word, he guided you back to the rooms, his hand resting steady and reassuring on your waist. the warmth of his calloused skin against your arm was comforting, sending a shiver through you. your heart ached to lean more of your weight against him, to feel the full press of his body against yours. each touch felt intensely intimate, grounding you in a way that made your heart race. his calm presence was a soothing contrast to the cold, impersonal walls of dauntless.

as he guided you back to the room, his touch so comforting and warm, memories from your younger years resurfaced.

you recalled how, even then, there was a strange tenderness in the way he interacted with you, though he never showed the same kindness towards others. peter was always rough with the other kids, his teasing and taunting often crossing the line into childish cruelty. 

your mother had noticed, warning you to stay away from him, claiming he was a bad influence. she saw the way he bullied others and feared that his harshness would rub off on you. so, you had learned to hate him, to see only his rough edges and disregard his rare moments of gentleness. now, feeling his warmth and seeing the softness in his eyes, those old judgments felt shaky and uncertain. It must’ve been a trick—a game he was playing. but in that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care, revelling in the way his skin brushed against yours.

as he helped you settle back under the covers, his touch was deliberate and achingly tender, causing a warm flush to spread through you. you wondered how you managed to muster enough hate to stay far enough away from him. the brush of his fingers against your skin, as he tucked the blankets around you, felt both intimate and possessive, sending a shiver of through your body. each contact, from his fingertips grazing your arm to his palm pressing gently on your shoulder, was charged with a longing intensity.

“you need to rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, nearly a whisper. his gaze lingered on you with a softness that was rare for him. before he turned to leave, he gently swept a few stray strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “it’s okay to be overwhelmed, sweetheart. we all are.”

you looked up at him, the tenderness of his touch and the care in his eyes sending a rush of warmth through you that made you slightly breathless. his eyes, usually so sharp, were softened by a rare, gentle affection that made your heart flutter. “thanks, peter. you didn’t have to.”

“yeah? well, i did,” he said, a crooked smile playing at his lips, his eyes twinkling with a touch of mischief. he held your hand in his and refused to let go, like he wasn’t ready to leave. you didn't want him to leave. “deal with it.” his voice was smooth, his tone almost too casual, as if the closeness was natural. as if he wasn’t acting completely out of character. his hand remained lingering by your jaw a moment longer than necessary, his touch longing like a secret between you.

you remembered early in high school, when peter had asked you out to the dance and confessed his feelings, saying he loved you. without hesitation, you’d turned him down, following your mother’s wishes. even then, he didn’t seem upset. instead, he simply promised that you’d end up loving him one day.

at the time, you didn't believe him, dismissing his words as just another piece of the game he constantly played. now, as you felt the warmth of his touch and the gentle care he’d shown, you couldn’t ignore the echoes of that past moment. you were falling for him. despite everything, you were falling for him. 

and after all that time, he was right.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tired, and raspy, but caring. it summoned butterflies to your stomach. he said it like you were the only girl in the world. suddenly, you felt like you were in middle school again, getting flustered over a boy. your mother would be so disappointed.

“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it,” you said, though your eyes betrayed you as they stayed locked with him. out of a force of habit you continued, “don’t wanna talk to you.” you didn’t mean it, of course.

he let out a tired, amused laugh before bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss in the palm of your hand. you melted. “i love you anyway.”

threw 3.5k words on a tumblr post and called it a fanfic </3

[danaewrites]

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part ii: i wanna hear you speak to me

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.6k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: new year, new chapter! i started writing this one back in SEPTEMBER and finally had enough time away from the terrors of calculus homework to finish it. thanks for reading my story so far and i hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent chapter, because i had way too much fun writing it!! i promise that the angst in this chapter *will* be resolved, but it was too deliciously tempting to resist sprinkling a wee bit of hurt/comfort and dramatics in there as well. sorry not sorry!

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

“I’ve got no bloody clue how Dumbledore can be so energetic all the time,” you groaned, head in your hands as you peeked out at the headmaster’s more-than-slightly manic grin from your seat at the Gryffindor breakfast table. You were far too sleep-deprived to process his latest choice of garish attire: a bright chartreuse robe covered in plaid polka dots, topped off with what appeared to be rhinestones and tinsel attached to his beard.

Perhaps if Kettleburn hadn’t assigned you three feet of parchment on the seventeen glorious properties of dragon dung yesterday and expected it done by this afternoon, you might have appreciated the headmaster’s creative fashion choices– oh, who were you kidding. There really was no understanding that wizard, even properly rested. James and Peter had made a bet during fifth year on how long it’d take Dumbledore to crack under a constant deluge of pranks in his office, but they’d quickly realized that the man was too far gone to do anything but take inspiration for school events– an idea that was quite frankly, comically frightening, and the sort of thing you weren’t keen on pondering on a normal Tuesday morning.

Sirius wrinkled his nose sympathetically and slid the pile of raspberry jam tarts closer to you. “Late night in the library again?”

You nodded sheepishly, gratefully taking a pastry from the pile. “I honestly don’t know why Pince allows me to stay past curfew. Marauder’s luck, I guess?” Your attention was diverted by the sound of hoots and flapping wings as the morning owl brigade arrived, apparently choosing a kamikaze dive-bomb approach to deliver this morning’s newspapers. Ah, the joys of living at the world’s most advanced magical school.

Sirius, ever the epitome of grace, slipped under the table as a rogue owl zipped past, popping himself back up just enough to throw you finger guns. “Exactly right, doll, exactly right,” he grinned. “Trust me, Marauder’s luck gets you everywhere. And I mean everywhere,” he winked, sending you a lecherous smirk.

“Ew, Sirius, I don’t even want to know,” you sniffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after the mental trauma your tales of Dorcas’ birthday adventures inflicted upon my psyche. Please, spare me the details.”

“What? All I meant was Slughorn’s Christmas Party, of course!” He batted his eyelashes angelically, still partially covered by the tablecloth.

Your mouth gaped open in shock. “Last year’s Christmas party? Sirius Orion Black, I refuse to hear another word! What on earth would your ancestors think, with you bragging about such exploits-”

He leaned over, eyes wide with laughter. “No, I meant the one Slughorn is throwing on the 21st, it’s exclusively for us lucky seventh years this time. Although, you bring up some very fond memories… okay, okay, I’ll stop, don’t kick me–”

“What are we kicking Sirius for?” James slid onto the bench across from you, eyeing a groveling Sirius with interest. Peter joined him, but wisely chose to stay away from the ruckus, piling his plate high with the bacon the owls had spared. Remus was noticeably absent, spending the morning resting in the infirmary after a rough night of shifting– which you assumed was much more peaceful than the current chaos at the Gryffindor breakfast table.

“Oh! Good morning, Jamie,” you beamed up at him, passing him the plate of desserts you’d been protecting from Sirius’ nefarious advances. “Morning, dove,” he greeted you, and then paused. “Ha, get it? Morning dove?” He puffed up his chest smugly and nudged Sirius with his elbow in a futile effort to make him laugh. You huffed fondly at his antics. Boys.

Sirius rolled his eyes and took advantage of your momentary distraction, retreating back onto his seat to nurse his wounds– to your ever-growing delight (and Sirius’ woe), you had recently discovered that the Hogwarts girls’ uniform shoes were quite sharp. “At this point we should call you Lames. ‘Cause your puns are lame,” he muttered.

You shooed him away with a brush of your hand, remembering what Sirius had mentioned earlier. “According to Sirius, Slughorn’s hosting a Christmas Party again this year. Let’s pray it won’t be like the last one.” You muttered. James and Peter both looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shuddering in unison. “My tie will never look the same again,” Peter griped, but suddenly sat up straight in his seat. “Hey, wait, we’re finally old enough to bring dates to this one! Without sneaking them in, I mean.” 

Sirius snickered and lightly punched his shoulder. “Why, Petey, got some lucky girl in mind?” Peter reddened and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where a certain freckled blonde was chatting with her friends– a move that didn’t go unnoticed by James, who gave a delighted wolf-whistle. “You got a thing for Lucy Abbott, huh? Might want to make a move before Smith does,” he grinned, gesturing to the tall brunette boy who’d just arrived and sharing a knowing smirk with you. You giggled at Peter’s increasingly pouty expression; he’d figure out sooner or later that Smith was definitely not interested in Abbott– or witches in general– but it was entertaining to see him out of his comfort zone. Peter had always been the quietest of your little group, and you privately thought that a bit of momentary romantic angst might spur him to be more assertive. An ironic opinion, considering how your own love life revolved around the fact that your best friend had feelings for someone else… and you couldn’t do anything about it except mope.

Peter scowled. “Easy for you to say, Prongs, you’ve finally got precious Lily-flower wrapped around your finger. I bet you’ve already asked her!”

There it was: another reminder that James wasn’t yours, and never would be. You watched as the Gryffindor boys good-naturedly jostled his shoulder and tousled his curls. James grinned sheepishly, shrugging off their teasing. “Not yet,” he admitted, glancing hopefully at the end of the table, where Lily was chatting with her friends. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on, we all know she’ll say yes this year.” Sirius winced, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced at Sirius, drawn by the movement. “What’ve you got to worry about? Half the population would kill Dumbledore to get one dance with you. The only person who’s got to worry about a date is me– well, and maybe Y/n, I guess.” His face suddenly turned contemplative, looking you up and down. “Are you going with someone?” 

Sirius’ grimace became doubly pronounced at Peter’s tactlessness, and you felt your face heating up. Peter had a way of accidentally hitting on the issues others tried to hide. It wasn’t his fault he’d never heard about your trips to Hogsmeade with a paramour– in fact, none of the boys had. Because there hadn’t been any. You’d spent your entire time at Hogwarts pining after James, and as a result had missed the romantic milestones your classmates had already blissfully bragged about. 

Peter looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response, and you opened your mouth to confess your lack of experience when you spotted a familiar redhead walking gracefully towards your side of the table– to James, you realized with a start. Something within you ignited as you watched her glow with confidence, carefree and lovely as ever. Lily would never pine after someone uselessly; she knew she could get anyone she wanted with the right amount of banter and flirty gestures. You... Well, you weren’t there quite yet, but maybe it was time to take inspiration from the Muggle saying and ‘fake it til you make it’. And before you could think about what you were about to do, you turned to Peter and smiled coyly. “I might.”

James’ and Sirius’ heads snapped up immediately from their perusal of the breakfast lineup as they let out an identical murmur of surprise. “What?” James furrowed his brow, looking you up and down– seemingly trying to discern whether you had taken a holiday from your senses, most likely via Bludger-induced concussion at the last Quidditch match. Sirius merely raised a questioning eyebrow at you. You groaned internally, knowing that you’d have to explain yourself later… although, if your half-baked idea worked, you’d be spending a lot more time with him anyway. For now, you beamed innocently at both of them and took a sip of your pumpkin juice. Apparently, the Sorting Hat had placed you in Gryffindor for a reason- you were either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to commit to this plan, but with Evans quickly approaching, you saw no other choice.

Peter looked momentarily shocked, then glumly began to assemble an egg and bacon sandwich seasoned with the occasional mutterance of “unfair” and “perpetually single, my arse”.

James’ eyes were still trained on you. “Who is it?” he asked, searching your face again as if he was looking for some indication that you were joking. You shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

“Dove-” he began, but Lily finally reached his seat and placed one stupidly perfect hand on his shoulder, diverting his attention momentarily. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you to her office for Quidditch scheduling.” James blinked, glancing up at her and then at the rest of the table. He stood up and focused on you again, expression clouded. “I’ll see you in Potions, yeah?”

Sirius stood up quickly, ushering him out of his seat with a speed you’d only seen him use to gulp down cheap Firewhiskey. He gave you a significant look. “Actually, Y/n and I were just about to take a walk, isn’t that right? So we'll both see you in Potions, what a sublime coincidence, now don’t be late for your meeting–” he chattered on as he shoved James toward the doors of the Great Hall, the latter eyeing him suspiciously but moving nonetheless. Sirius turned to you and pointed to the courtyard entryway. “You. Me. Talk, as in right now.”

Once you were sure that you’d made it out of earshot of Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table, you wheeled around to face him. “Okay. First of all… I didn’t plan that.” Sirius raised an eyebrow again. “Second of all, I need a favour,” you pleaded, staring up at him with the most adorable doe eyes you could physically summon. They were usually most effective on James, for some reason, but you were sure that Sirius wasn’t immune to your manipulation either. He groaned, resting his face in his hands. “How do you even have a date? Last time I checked, also known as yesterday, you were still head over heels for Prongsie, doll. So do I need to check you for Amortentia or somethi–” He peered out from between his fingers with annoyed realization. “You don’t have a date, do you.” 

You blinked innocently up at him. He let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “This is what you need the favour for? You want me to go with you to Slughorn’s party so you can pretend in front of the rest of Hogwarts that you’re not madly in love with Jamie?” 

You grinned confidently up at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Aw, Siri, you know me so well. It’s almost as if you were maaaade to be my date for the party...” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him one more time for good measure, trying to hide a smirk. “Alright, alright, stop with the Bambi act, I’ll take you.” He scowled good-naturedly. “You know, this is going to ruin my dating pool for the next month.” 

You scoffed. “As if! If anything, you’ll just have more people fawning over you– temptation of the forbidden apple and all, you know.” 

Sirius brightened up considerably at this revelation. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the beginning, doll! I vote that we match in purple velvet, it does wonders for my complexion–”

You gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of you and Sirius swanning into the party in some sort of horrendous plum-coloured disco getup, and shooed him away towards the Potions classroom. That was an eyesore to imagine sometime when you weren’t about to get a headache from the dim dungeon lighting.

Slughorn greeted you and Sirius by directing you to the front of the classroom with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oho, a pair of latecomers, I see!” He winked at you and Sirius in exaggerated motion. You winced as Snape jeered and nudged Malfoy, who was busy enjoying Flint’s crude gestures at you. Ugh, Slytherin boys. The worst of the lot. Their snickers were quickly stopped by James chucking a handful of powdered wormwood at their heads when Slughorn turned away, making Malfoy’s prized hair appear covered in soot. You shot him a grateful smile. 

“Since you two missed my initial remarks, let’s see if you can make it up by identifying today’s potion, hmm?” Slughorn gestured dramatically to a shimmering green brew in a cauldron next to his desk, cherry-coloured smoke curling off of the top invitingly. 

Sirius shot you a panicked look, clearly not expecting to be put in the academic spotlight, but you shook your head and stepped closer. You smelled something rich and incense-like, which meant that Bumburrel leaves were a key ingredient. And combined with the way the smoke was drifting lazily around your wrists, curling higher and higher… “Brew of Mandelian, sir. Used for sharpened acuity under times of pressure.”

Slughorn gave a delighted chuckle and clapped his hands. “Well then! Ten points to Gryffindor for paying attention in lectures!” He dismissed you and Sirius with a wave, moving on to explain the finer points of ingredient preparation to a very bemused George Goyle as you slipped into your usual seat beside James.

You worked in quiet harmony for a moment, methodically slicing and crushing the slippery beetles needed to give the brew its signature green colour while James handed you the insects. He broke the silence after six beetles (not that you had been counting or anything) with an awkward, “So… you have a, erm, date?”

You huffed, motioning for him to hand you the foul-smelling Moorish tubers next. “Honestly, James, is it that surprising?” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Well, I– yeah, I guess.” he trailed off, seeing your expression. 

“The tubers, Jamie, thank you. I mean, you looked at me like I was a ghost back in the Great Hall!” You were decidedly not making eye contact with him, trying your best to focus on the slimy plants in front of you and not the fact that your best friend-slash-unrequited crush doubted your romantic potential. What a way to be humbled– and while covered in tuber juice, no less!

He huffed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “Come on, Y/n, it’s not like that. What did Sirius want to talk about in the Great Hall, anyway? You two looked… chummy.” 

You glared down at the copper slicing board. “Well, it’s none of your business how chummy we are, is it? I don’t interrogate you every time you converse with Peter. In fact, it’s rather expected that Sirius and I speak to one another on occasion, considering the amount of time we all spend together thanks to you.”

You moved to grab another tuber from the jar, but James reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. His hazel eyes were alight with frustration, a look you knew by heart thanks to the hours you’d spent tutoring him in History of Magic after he napped his way through the entire first semester. “Are you serious? You’re actually going with someone?”

“Please, Jamie, do enlighten me on whyever you think I couldn’t possibly get a date with my numerous and diverse charms,” you sniffed, hoping to Merlin that he would just leave the entire subject alone. 

“No, it’s–” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “The other boys, they don’t know how– you’re so, I mean, just look at you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at you. He stopped, frowning to himself, looking more confused than before. He glanced over at Lily, expression becoming even more muddled, brow furrowed and hard to read to anyone but you. 

Your mouth parted in shock, and to your dismay you felt tears bubbling up again. You blinked fiercely, refusing to let him see you cry. James thought the issue was… your looks? You suddenly wanted to crawl under Slughorn’s desk and never come out again, except perhaps to find a shovel to dig your grave with. This was far, far worse than watching him transfigure chocolates for Lily every Valentine’s Day. Now you knew for a fact he didn’t find you attractive– thought other boys didn’t either, even! And the way he’d clearly mentally compared you to Lily after what he’d admitted… well. There was no recovering from that. Teenage boys could be dense, but Merlin, how you had wanted him to at least let you down gently. 

You wished you’d never opened your mouth to lie about having a stupid date in the first place, but you forced yourself to laugh and mutter something trite about how that could all be fixed with a couple glamour charms anyway so it really wasn’t an issue for the party, thank you very much. He looked even more confused, opening his mouth to respond, but Snape chose that moment to interrupt.

“Hey, Potter!” James turned to scowl at the greasy Slytherin as you thanked your lucky stars for Snape’s interruption (a rather disturbing thought– potentially a harbinger of an imminent apocalypse. You’d never thanked Snape before in your life and hoped to never do it again). “Here’s payback for earlier,” he smirked, checking that Slughorn had dozed off and the other students weren’t paying attention before whipping a mottled yellow bottle at James.

James’ carefully honed Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he quickly dodged the object, but as the vial soared up, up, past your carefully diced tubers, over James’ messy notes, it hit your arms and shattered. You flinched in pain, crying out as the glass shards embedded themselves in your arm and the congealing, repulsive liquid dripped down your hands and onto your thighs. James lunged towards you, but it was too late– the potion had already seeped into your skin, causing an awful sparking sensation. 

You gasped, grabbing onto the desk as the feeling bubbled upwards. “Jamie, I don’t– I don’t feel–” you stuttered, suddenly lightheaded, and you heard someone gasp as you began to taste something metallic. You absently touched your nose. Why was it so cold and wet? You had been so careful not to touch your face around those horrid tubers and oh, oh Merlin and Morgana what was that pain in your hands and legs, please no make it go away someone help me help me HELP

You vaguely registered someone whimpering in the background. It might have been you, but you weren’t entirely sure what was happening outside of the electric symphony of agony crescending in your nervous system. The pain built swirled flooded through until you weren’t sure where you ended and the potion began which was a funny thought because of course you were you, but you couldn’t remember who you were before this so you laughed but that really hurt, oh how that hurt no no no no no bad idea–  

“Fuck– no–” James? Was he here too?

You blinked– when did your eyes open?– and saw him reach for you, frantically pushing his dark curls off his forehead. Why would he do that? You loved his hair, even when you were feeling funny awful things from the potion. You felt his arms scoop under you, lifting you off your seat as he caught your head from falling back. You heard a door slam open, footsteps, darkness clouding your vision–

His voice. “Sweetheart, no– don’t do that, I need you to keep your eyes open.”

You blinked again, trying to focus on James’ face. He looked pale, jaw set and tensed like it was before his Quidditch games. Were you moving? You couldn’t tell whether James was walking or the hallways were walking around you. He glanced down again, exhaling with relief once he saw whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Keep those pretty eyes focused on me, okay?” 

He thought your eyes were pretty? 

James gave a tight laugh. “Yeah, I think your eyes are pretty, dove. Hold on a bit longer, we’re almost there,” he choked out. 

Oh. Had you said that out loud?

But you thought– he had said something, before, you couldn’t remember now but it was important and it hurt–

Some part of you, deep where the potion hadn’t reached, had melted at his words. That part was tinged with pain, too, but in a different way, raw and honest and hopeful and all for him. Or maybe that was the potion, you were pretty sure witches weren’t supposed to melt unless they were green and lived somewhere much further west, but your thoughts on the whole process evaporated as you reached a white door and a woman and your words started to swirl until they melted too and everything went black.

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[everythingisromant1c]

It's Always Been You - Chapter 6

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Maybe it was an attempt to get over him, or maybe it was just from embarrassment, but you'd decided to avoid James. The only problem was, your best friend was making that very, very difficult to do.

wc [4.6k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 5 - Chapter 7 ->

The weekend had ended without excitement, if you don't count kissing your best friend and practically getting rejected by said best friend the next day to be excitement.

As much as you willed it not to, the events of the past two days played in your mind well into Monday, perhaps being the reason why you skipped out on breakfast in the Great Hall and showed up to Defense Against the Dark Arts with hardly a minute to spare before class started.

Your professor this year, Professor Higglebottom, silly as her name was, was the adventurous type and always started class with some hands-on interaction. That's why you all crowded against the walls instead of taking a seat at one of the desks in the front of the room.

You were sandwiched between Marlene and Sirius, the latter you knew was trying to get you to respond to his whispers. You weren't much in the mood for whatever kind of conversation he was trying to spark up, especially not after the one you'd had with him last night that you most definitely did not lose sleep over.

"Alright class," your professor announced. Her bob haircut bounced lightly as she took quick circling steps before your class's waiting eyes. "Let's begin with a quick review of last week's shielding charm. Pair up with a classmate and practice, and no harmful hexes this time, yes?"

With a snicker from across the room, Higglebottom waved her wand and the desks all gracefully swept into organized rows against the far wall, leaving the center of the room open for spell practice.

Within the blink of an eye half the room had begun to shuffle around in search of a partner, and it hit you with a surge in your chest that you and James always paired up in this class. You stayed rooted in your spot against the wall for a second, looking around amongst the chaos. Sure enough, that head of curls and those eyes like honey were on the other side of the room, searching the crowd for someone—for you.

Maybe you weren't exactly thinking in that moment, but you acted before you had time to consider much of anything.

"Hey Alice!" your voice was raised to almost a shout that alarmed even you, and Alice turned to you in surprise.

"Hey," she said, and before she could get another word out you were practically running to her.

"Could we be partners?"

You figured that it might've been the desperate look in your eyes that had her nodding yes, but it didn't matter because at least you didn't have to pair up with James. Facing that awkwardness and ignoring the twinge in your chest whenever you saw him seemed impossible right then.

You walked over to the front left corner of the room with Alice, catching James in your peripheral. He was watching you, you knew he was. It only made avoiding him even more difficult in your heart.

You began practicing with Alice as Higglebottom instructed, though you put up your shielding charm with just a fraction of a second left before Alice's stunning spell would've sent you flying.

"Woah," she said, and you took a second to shake out your arm before preparing for the next round. "You alright?"

"What?" you asked, half listening. "Yeah. Just slow reflexes, I guess. Sorry." She sent another shining blue stream at you from her wand. "Protego!"

This time you blocked it properly, but it didn't leave Alice feeling satisfied.

"It's just," she began, flicking her wand again wordlessly. "Don't you usually partner up with Potter?"

You tried your best to contain any reaction, focusing on saying the spells as instructed. You shrugged. "I don't know, I wouldn't say always."

Alice laughed. "Okay, so ninety-nine out of a hundred times, then." You gave her a look that was half joking half annoyed, and she smiled with a tilt of her and a gesture that said it was your turn to aim some spells her way. You flicked your wand with a wordless spell, and she put up her shield in no time, continuing. "I was just wondering if everything was okay, is all."

"No, yeah, everything's fine." Your shoulders felt tense as you sent out another spell. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, for one thing, he keeps looking over here." As much as you tried not to let her words affect you, the thought of them made your heart race and your forehead crinkle anxiously.

You shook your head busily, lips tight. "Don't know why he would be." That was a lie of course, and you knew it deep in your bones as you said it. You fought the urge to ask her exactly how he was looking at you as you sent another spell her way. "Rictusempra!"

Alice deflected the spell with yet another shield from her wand, and you could feel your focus slipping from you with every exchange between the two of you on the topic. "Maybe he wants to talk to you?" she reasoned, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"I'd rather not." With that, you prepared another spell.

Alice glanced at something somewhere behind you. "Well he's coming this way."

"What?"

You panicked, and your spell shot completely in the wrong direction, aiming diagonally at Higglebottom's desk instead. You cringed as your gust of wind had a stack of papers go flying, falling through the air without any grace.

Everyone in the room stopped their dueling at the commotion, and Higglebottom let out a tiny gasp from her position across the room. You stood there, stunned. But somehow, the most mortifying part of it to you was the sight of James watching it all unfold a few feet away from you, looking like he both wanted to laugh and ask you a thousand questions that you didn't know the answer to.

"Well, that's alright," rang Higglebottom, and you could've ran up and hugged her when she clapped her hands and made everyone go back to practicing spells. That included James, who wandered back over to a smug looking Sirius. She daintily pointed her wand towards the mess and it was cleaned up in a matter of seconds, though your embarrassment lingered deep in the pit of your stomach and refused to leave you.

Your professor had spent the rest of the class going over proper spell-casting stances and dueling strategies, and you'd found that the more you focused on your classes, the less your head seemed to run amuck with thoughts of a certain someone.

You'd spent the rest of rest of the day doing just that, paying attention to your professors' lessons for every class like your life depended on it, and speeding off in between each one.

By the time you made it to Potions you felt like your mind was finally calming down, though the world loved to test your patience. You had to walk straight past James on your way to your seat—the seat that was right in front of his—and he didn't give you the grace of pretending not to see you. His eyes followed you the whole way to your seat, and somehow it felt like you could still feel them lingering on the back of your head as you sat down. You sighed; if he could do you the favor of picking up on your attempt to get over him and just go along with it, your life would be a whole lot easier.

"You alright?"

You turned to see Sebastian sitting in his seat next to you, looking as dashing as ever with his tie undone from the uncharacteristically warm weather that day. The fact hadn't left you that Sebastian was apparently a top prospect for girls in your year looking to find a date.

He looked at you with concern, though his expression was still warm. He was the second person to ask you that that day.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said back, though the way he looked at you made you feel suddenly insecure. You patted at the back of your hair. "Do I not look it?"

"No, no," came Sebastian quickly, laughing slightly. "You look great. Trust me."

From the way his eyes hovered over you, you felt like both hiding from embarrassment and blushing. You were about to thank him until Slughorn stood up from his desk, tone somewhat more bubbly than usual as he spoke.

"Say, my eager students," he began, and you felt the class collectively sigh from around you. "The air does feel fitting for some friendly competition today, does it not?"

With his statement, the room seemed to perk up from their afternoon drag, though you felt a sense of dread settle into your stomach. The word "competition" said in a room full of Gryffindors and Slytherins was practically a death sentence. Slughorn didn't pay it any mind.

"Each brewing station should prepare a Wound-Cleaning Potion within the hour, and I'll determine the most well-brewed potion by the end of class. The winning group gets five points extra credit."

If the prospect of competition didn't scare you already, the fact that you were never any good at Potions definitely did the job. Sebastian turned to you with an optimistic grin on his face, something casual and confident, all while you felt the exact opposite.

"Don't be so worried," he said, like he could read from your face how you felt already. "We're gonna do great. Half the others can't even talk to each other without ... that happening."

He nodded over to where Sirius and Slytherin Quidditch Captain Marcus Craggy were already arguing, practically shoving each other as they both stood up to get ingredients.

You snorted into your hand. "Maybe you're right."

Between the two of you, you sorted out a plan of action and went to get the ingredients while Sebastian tended to warming the cauldron. If your staying-hyper-focused strategy went according to plan, you had confidence that with Sebastian's Potions skills you could actually do well.

You measured out the proper amount of the necessary ingredients, taking what you needed from the stacks of shelves aligning the classroom wall. You handed off the jar of dandelion root to a girl next to you before turning around, but that was when you turned right into a body.

You looked up. It was James—of course it was. You knew for a fact you did a horrible job at hiding your alarm, but were still in your ignore-your-feelings-and-focus-on-school mood so you didn't think twice before awkwardly avoiding looking into his eyes.

"Sorry," you said quickly. You briefly smiled at him, though you were sure you looked anything but casual.

"It's okay-" he began, his voice fading away as you rushed past him within a second.

You felt horrible.

Focus, focus, focus. When you returned back to your table and a waiting Sebastian, you did just that.

He naturally took the lead, since you didn't know the first thing about brewing a Wound-Cleaning Potion, but he was surprisingly understanding and explained each step in a way that made more sense than anything Slughorn had ever said. There weren't even any of the usual slip-ups that happen when you brew a potion yourself, though you couldn't say the same for the groups around you.

About halfway through class you peaked over to where Sirius and Marcus Craggy were working and saw the monstrosity that was their cauldron bubbling over the surface, a swampy green that most certainly was not the right color.

You heard a mousy laugh come from behind them, Peter giggling at the sight of his friend's failure. Within a second his own partner yelled his name, and with a terrified look he focused back on his own potion. It was safe to say your group was working better than any of your friends'.

In no time you were all finishing up your potions and Slughorn had begun coming around to review them, hands tucked behind his back like a true judge.

The first cauldron he'd surveyed belonged to Frank Longbottom and a red-haired Slytherin girl who you knew Alice was uneasy over. And, now that you got a good look at her, you could see she was the same girl you heard whispering about you and James's supposed broom closet snogging. So maybe the slight amusement you felt when Slughorn looked at her and Frank's cauldron and immediately grimaced wasn't completely impersonal.

He did the same to a few other groups, granting some an impressed nod until he finally reached your table. He gave Sebastian an enthusiastic and familiar smile, and nodded at you without any particular warmth, which you ignored.

The two of you stepped back and watched as Slughorn leaned over the side of the cauldron, peering it into it wordlessly. Sebastian glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a curious look and you fought a smile.

When you turned back to your potion, Slughorn's face was lit up satisfactorily. He clapped his hands together. "Splendid! Absolutely splendid."

You felt like you were hearing wrong, like words as positive as those could've never come from Slughorn in regards to you, but sure enough, he was talking directly to you. You were definitely sure you were dreaming then.

"Say, I believe we may have found our winners!"

Your jaw was hanging then, and Sebastian was beaming proudly. You were about to turn to him and celebrate, when a Gryffindor boy at a table in the corner of the room shouted out in protest.

"You didn't even look at the last three groups!"

Slughorn turned to him at first in alarm, but then his expression then morphed into a tightlipped smile you could tell was meant to be sympathetic. "I'm sorry dear boy, but I can see from here they're all the wrong color." He scanned the row of cauldrons behind you. "I can also smell them."

The room chuckled at that, and Slughorn turned back to you and Sebastian unbothered and cheerful.

"I expected nothing less from one of my star students, yes?" He shook Sebastian's hand firmly like he was an old family friend, and then, to your surprise, held out his hand to you too. You took it, feeling suspicious of how well this was going. "Very impressive work today." He smiled at you more authentically then you'd ever seen him smile at you, and you felt like bursting from happiness, though you watered it down to a prompt "Thank you."

"You two pat yourselves on the back," said Slughorn, regarding you both one last time before taking his leave.

You turned slowly to Sebastian, sporting the biggest smile you'd worn in days. The groups that weren't as upset over the loss clapped lightly from around the room, and you were so happy you could've literally jumped for joy.

"We did it!" You looked at Sebastian, and he was grinning down at you with a smile that met his eyes, looking half like he wanted to laugh at your overexcitement. You were so happy you even ran up and hugged him, not exactly thinking before you did it but it didn't matter because he hugged you back, chuckling.

Right before you went to pull away, you heard a bubbling noise coming from next to you. It grew, rumbling and groaning, and not a second more went by before the potion behind yours splattered all over.

You both stepped only slightly back before the mess reached you. You were lucky you were standing where you were, because most of the potion got on Sebastian instead. That didn't change the fact that it made an absolute mess.

"Goodness!" Slughorn shouted, and you stepped away from Sebastian right away, scanning over the mess the cauldron had made. A blue-gray goo covered the left half of his shirt, not an insane mess but still a concerning amount of slimy potion to be covered in.

You turned to the table who'd been sitting behind you, and realized with a sense of both dread and annoyance that it had been James's cauldron to explode.

You looked at him in dismay as he stood there, backed away from the table like the explosion had come completely as a surprise to him. But, judging from the way he took in Sebastian's appearance without so much as a grimace, it very well could've been just the opposite.

James's table partner, the Slytherin boy on the smaller side, looked beyond mortified. "Oh Merlin," he began, arms outstretched towards Sebastian. "We're so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-"

"Now, now," Slughorn interrupted, moving swiftly over to where the mess was. With a face that showed he was trying very hard not to react, he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell that cleaned up the mess from the desks and floor, and another one for Sebastian's shirt.

"That should take care of the mess, though I do recommend you pay Madam Pomfrey a visit, Sebastian. The possible side effects of an improperly-brewed potion are quite impossible to determine externally." He patted Sebastian on the back, who looked not angry but dazed, if anything, and turned to James and his partner. "And as for you two, pay better mind for what ingredients you're using. Next time, I won't be so kind about cleaning up for you."

They both nodded obediently, James wearing the placating face he always did when confronted by a teacher, and staring down at his feet. Was he ashamed? Hiding laughter? You couldn't tell, but certainly had suspicions, knowing his dislike of Sebastian for some unidentifiable reason.

Slughorn dismissed the class, and Sebastian gathered his things to go to what you assumed would be the nurse's office.

"Let me go with you," you said.

He turned to you in surprise, shrugging his bag over his shoulder. "Oh, don't worry about it."

"It's no problem, really." You smiled at him assuredly and he let in, waiting for you to get your things and walk with him out of the classroom. "Are you okay?" you asked once you turned the corner. "The color of that potion was definitely concerning."

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Or at least, I feel okay."

"Good."

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, and you let your thoughts drift to the class you'd just finished, and how amazing and odd it felt to get a handshake from Slughorn. Soon you found a smile creeping into your cheeks.

"Are you laughing at me?"

You escaped your daydreaming, whipping your head to Sebastian who was looking at you with a disbelieving smile of his own. "What? No! Of course not," you assured him, shaking your head rapidly. "I'm just really happy our potion did so well."

"Yeah, me too."

"I mean seriously, I don't think I've ever smiled so much in a Potions class. Or that Slughorn's ever said anything that nice to me." And you meant it. Visions of nights spent practically crying over a bad potions grade flashed through your mind.

"Well," Sebastian began, eyes looking down at yours with fondness. "You deserve it."

You looked back at him, feeling like he really meant those words. A kind of odd feeling simmered in your chest, but it was warm and you invited it as you kept walking beside him.

"Hey," he began again after a beat, shifting his attention fully to you. "I've been meaning to ask you something-"

"Can we talk?"

Both of you stopped as you reached the staircase at the end of the hall and, somehow, there stood James. He was looking at you with an intention behind his eyes that flickered over you like he hadn't noticed Sebastian was with you at all.

You frowned at him, eyes glancing between both he and Sebastian in both shyness and irritation. "You know, I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"It's an emergency." James leaned closer, eyes wide. "About the you know what."

You did not 'know what,' but James didn't seem to pick up on that. Your confusion only extended the interaction and had Sebastian stepping away.

"It's okay," he said to you with a neutral tug of his lips. "I'll talk to you later." Before you could tell him it was fine, that you wanted to hear what he had to ask you, he'd smiled and turned to climbed up the steps, leaving you alone with James.

You turned fully to face him, your irritation masking whatever nervousness you felt at finally looking him in the eyes. "What kind of 'emergency' was so important that you had to interrupt my conversation with-"

"Sebastian Vance. I know." He said his name like it was a chore, and it only had your forehead creasing even more. "There's, um, a problem with the prank."

"Really?" you deadpanned, staring at him blankly. "That was the emergency that couldn't wait?"

"You haven't let me finish," argued James defensively.

"Okay," you added, tone impatient as you motioned for him to continue.

"Wormtail lost the list of passcodes to the Slytherin common room." He ended his sentence as if there was more that he wanted to say, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"And?"

"And ... we were wondering if you could find a way to get them from Vance."

"What?!" you shouted, lowering your voice when you realized how loud you were being. "No, have you gone mad?"

"Oh, come on," James said, tone much too lax for your liking.

"You really expect me to trick my friend into letting us prank him?"

James let out a huff that sounded like a scoff, raising his brows at you. "Oh really? He's your friend now?"

"Yeah, he is." You crossed your arms, staring at him disbelievingly. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem." James shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, peering somewhere down below and not at you. "Just didn't know you guys were so close, is all."

Something about the way he spoke was infuriating you, tone casual but clearly masking judgement, as if he had any kind of control over who you could and couldn't speak to.

You scoffed. "Why are you being so weird about this?"

"I'm not."

"Really?" you deadpanned. "You interrupted my conversation with him when I was trying to walk him to the nurse after your potion exploded all over him, right after we won-"

"You don't really think I did that on purpose, do you?"

"I don't know!" you shouted. "With your house rivalry, and the way you lot are so obsessed with pranking people-"

"'You lot'?"

You stopped, realizing how much this was escalating when you really didn't want it to be. You pressed a hand to your forehead. "Sorry that's... that's not fair." You shook your head, as if doing that would rid you of the mess that was your mind right then. You hated arguing with James. "I'm just annoyed right now, is all."

"Yeah," James said with a nod, voice quieted. "Look," he breathed. "I'm sorry I interrupted you. And I really didn't mean for my potion to go exploding all over the place. I don't know what happened. I guess I was just ... distracted, or something, when we were brewing it. I'm sorry."

You let your eyes scan over his face, noting that he truly did look sorry. Something churned in your gut, something that you filed away as uninportant in that moment. "It's alright," you sighed.  "Although, it's not really me you should be apologizing to."

It took him a second before he caught what you were referring to, him realizing with a look to the side and a half-laugh. "Yeah right."

"James." You gave him a warning look, and he raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright. I'll apologize to him."

You uncrossed your arms, feeling a bit better. "Thank you."

He tipped his head in acknowledgment, and you stood there for a moment debating if there was anything more to be said, knowing in the back of your mind that there certainly was, but you took a step up the stairs anyway.

"Wait." James took a light hold on your wrist that seemed to burn right through the skin, the contact making you feel unstable on the steps. "That's ... that's not all I wanted to talk to you about."

You stilled, glancing over his unsure expression. "Oh, okay." You waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent, out of character for him. He didn't meet your eyes as he thought, throat bobbing. "James?"

"Are we okay?"

He looked up and into your eyes then, the motion striking you as you were more level with him now from your stance on the step.

You felt your heart rate pick up. "What?"

He drew his hand away finally to run it uneasily through his curls. "I just feel like you're ..." He trailed off, voice going soft.

"Like I'm what?"Slightly heartbroken? Avoiding you? You knew exactly what he meant, of course, and it was eating away at you to lie straight to him.

"It's nothing." He waved a hand, though you could sense his seriousness in the tenseness of his stance and the darting of his eyes. "I just wanna make sure everything's alright between us."

You nodded because you felt the same way, though you knew the answer. "Yeah, I get that."

He looked expectantly at you, eyes intent but not prying. "So, is it?"

A beat went by before you could answer, your throat going dry with the effort of your lie. "Yeah," you assured him. "Of course."

He seemed to visibly relax, and the way his features softened made your shoulders sink. "Good. Great."

Were you a bad person for this? Maybe. Probably. But avoiding him had felt like best coarse of action and the only way to get by, at least for the time being. You knew, or hoped, that eventually things would go back to normal. Or rather, the 'normal' that existed before you ever had feelings for James, if that even really existed.

He offered you a smile of his pink lips that eased your thoughts even if only for a moment. Then, he leaned in and hugged you, and you felt like melting for too many reasons. You were at a height that let one of his curls brush against your cheek just like it did the night you kissed him—ignore, ignore, ignore—only, you weren't sure how much longer you could keep doing that.

If you weren't going to avoid James all together anymore, than you'd have to just avoid certain situations; situations like this, where you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your own, something dizzying yet comforting in a way that made you want to hide in your dorm.

You pulled away, reminding yourself that hugging him was the last thing you should be doing, and turned towards the steps again. "Let's go find the guys, figure out all this prank business."

"Good idea," James said, who followed you up the stairs without missing a beat. You hadn't reached the top step before he froze, ending up a few steps behind you.

"Crap," he cursed.

You frowned down at him. "What's the matter?"

"I just remembered that I booked the Quidditch pitch for this time."

Your jaw dropped for a second, lips curling up at the stupefied look on his face. You waved your hand towards the top of the steps. "Well then, go! Hurry!"

James's face set in with a hilariously determined expression and he set off up the steps in a jumble of robes mixed with his bag hanging limply off his shoulder. He passed you with ease, zooming off down the hallway.

"See you!" he called. He turned over his shoulder with a grin before disappearing around the corner, and your heart hurt at how easily laughter came to you around him. Because he's your best friend.

You reminded yourself of that fact with a small but stern nod, probably looking like you'd lost your mind standing alone in that hallway. It didn't matter, because you were going to keep those thoughts out of your mind from then on, and that was the end of that. Or, at least that was what you told yourself all the way back to the common room.

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