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biteofcherry · 2 years ago

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Make the dust fly

dark!Steve Rogers x female reader; dark!Captain Rogers x fairy reader

Author’s Note: This is a dark retelling (with a wicked twist) of a Peter Pan fairytale, for @boxofbonesfic “Once Upon A Time” challenge and 10k milesestone celebration - once again, congratulations!

summary: You’ve always been loyal to Peter and to his group of rascals, fierce in the way you protect them. So when the bloodthirsty Captain Rogers is close to catching your friends, your fairy heart bursts with courage and you place yourself between them. Little did you know that Captain was never after Peter. It was always about you…

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; dub-con (bordering on non-con); captivity; stocks/pillory; spanking; size kink; forced orgasm; explicit sexual content; mentions of drug use;

Reader is a fairy, Peter’s sassy Tinkerbell, but in my take on this universe fairies aren’t that tiny tiny. They’re “regular size”, but definitely smaller than Captain Rogers.

Also, there’s a light hint at WS!Steve, regarding his prosthetic (after all, he’s serving as Captain Hook in this).

word count: 5.8k

Though the sun spilled through the half-broken window of the old sanctuary, the splashes of colors softening the stone floors where stained glass-work cast its reflection, the soothing atmosphere was dispersing.

Fear and charging darkness chased you through the corridors as the pirates’ trap closed in on you.

How did they even find this place? It was an abandoned little playground which you found a few months ago and to which you brought Peter and the boys, Wanda too. Her stories gained a new dimension of life when told here.

It should be safe! So far from the seas and rocky beaches where the pirates often lurked. Far from the lush green forests, which Captain seemed to roam alone with ease, as if he wasn’t a bastard limited to the seas, but a nomad who found his place anywhere he wished. Anywhere his power allowed him.

And he had power in bulks.

Elders of your fairy clan have spoken of him with fear. You always thought it to be because of his ruthless mastery over the seas and the merciless determination with which he hunted Peter.

Somehow, he found Peter even here, so deep into the land it felt impossible to meet him and his crew here. But the warning came crisp and clear as MJ ran inside the sanctuary, breathless and panicked, yelling about pirates securing nets outside and preparing to storm in.

Nets so they could trap all of you, even if your dust gave your friends the ability to fly.

“Go, Peter!” You hissed at him, handing him a small pouch with gathered fairy dust.

“Take Wanda and leave through that tunnel we found last week!” You urged them. “Once outside, you’ll be able to fly off. They won’t be able to set up nets over a cliff!”

“Come with us.” Peter caught your wrist. “We can all fly.”

You shook your head, yanking your hand from Peter’s grip. That spontaneous escape would work on most, but not on Captain Rogers.

As rash and reckless many men were, he was a brilliantly strategic son of a bitch. The fact he somehow found you here, was able to build up a quick trap, spoke of how dangerous it was to underestimate him.

Somehow- someone had to play decoy, so the others could save themselves.

You knew Peter managed to get free in the past, always so creative in improvising and audacious enough to follow through with quite crazy plans, but this time it felt more dire. Your instinct told you it was no playful risk, but could be the end to all ends.

Captain Rogers wanted Peter, you were merely an annoyance he’d wave off like a fly.

“Go! Go now!” You pushed Peter toward the secret exit. “I’ll meet you later.” You vowed, determined to squirm your way out of the pirate’s grasp.

When the group started squeezing into the tunnel, you took a deep breath and fluttered your wings out. You flew up to one of the partially broken windows and peeked over the red stained glass that used to be a part of a rose.

Hook’s crew was indeed outside, in a formation that looked threatening and discouraging to any rebellion. Well, it made your rebellious streak flare. After all, fairies weren’t known for mellow, compliant behavior. You certainly weren’t that kind of a fairy. Nor that kind of woman.

Hook. You shook your head as you thought of a rather cruel nickname the boys gave Captain Rogers.

He lost his arm - there were various tales regarding the circumstances behind that. Some included a ridiculous brawl with a crocodile; another a power hungry demi god from the outerworld who turned into an alligator; other stories were about wars in far lands after which Rogers’ body washed up on the shores nearby, already lacking an arm.

Whatever the truth was, each tale had a significant truth to it which your friends liked to omit - Rogers survived. Perhaps even won.

It should keep you all scared, not underestimate him as a pathetic, crazy pirate with a prosthetic.

There was a hook attached to his prosthetic many years ago, but it was long gone, replaced with a functioning metal arm whose endurance and strength matched Rogers’ general power.

Still, Peter and the boys snickered at the Hook nickname.

Most of the time you called him Rogers or Captain Rogers, only when you were truly pissed, or scared of losing your friends, did you call him Hook; and many other degrading names.

He stood there, so close to the entrance. His head was slightly bowed as he talked to a man beside him. Sun streaks seemed to catch in his blond hair, his features bathed in warm glow. It annoyed you that someone so ruthless and despicable dared to look so beautiful, so stunning. Light and magic of the world were for fairies like you, to shimmer in your nearly translucent wings and burst full of color as you shed dust. It shouldn’t caress a man like Captain Rogers, making him appear innocent-like.

No, he was not innocent.

He was a bottomless pit of darkness and all things wicked, only luring with his handsome veneer. Like those flowers Tiger Lily once showed you - they were so lush and aromatic, but when an insect touched their petals they’d trap it inside and feed on it.

Not only because Rogers had this sick obsession with Peter, trying to hunt him down, but there were other instances that turned your blood cold.

He kidnapped three mermaid younglings, taking them far away over the seas and selling them as an attraction, or maybe as pets. He spread bodies of his enemies on the rocky shore, arranging their corpses in wooden galways, leaving them for animals to feed on.

There was a tale of Echo, one of the Tribe’s people, who disappeared unexpectedly. Rumors of her fate laid at Captain Rogers’ feet. Yet there was no gossip of her potential whereabouts. And the Tribe, for some unknown reason, still occasionally traded with the pirates.

Rage at his conscienceless acts made you itch for your daggers. Though you probably couldn’t hit him from a distance.

So you flew up slightly higher, to get a better look at the siege, seek a hole through which you could escape and show them the middle finger.

At that moment Captain turned his head and looked up, as if he sensed he was being watched. His gaze zeroed in on you.

Stupidly, really, but you stuck out your tongue at him when your eyes met.

Rogers cocked his head to the side, his gaze slid from you to the building then back up. He was assessing something, calculating. Suddenly he turned on his heel and marched straight inside.

Heart jumping to your throat in fear, you flew down.

It dawned on you that he had to be considering where your group may hide within the sanctuary’s corridors, but your little peek gave him the answer right away. It meant he was aiming straight to your place of hiding.

Which was good, you reminded yourself. It drew attention away from Peter and Wanda and the rest. You had to stand your ground.

You couldn’t just fly around like a butterfly anyway, since a few months ago it turned out that pirates have shipped in some new kind of weapon that splutters rapid fire at any object in motion. It would hit you at some point, even if you’d manage to dodge most of the shots.

Taking Rogers on in a fight was a task near impossible, but you were fast, agile and quite good with your daggers in close distance. Maybe you’d be able to surprise him with a nick, or two, and use the distraction to escape. The tunnel Peter and the rest went through was so narrow that Captain’s broad, large frame would never fit through it.

You drew out your daggers, clenching your fingers around the ornately carved wood, as you heard booming steps approaching. Captain Rogers barged in, his pace slowing as he entered the chamber fully.

A small group of his pirates followed, but when they realized there’s no one beside you inside, they stopped in their tracks.

You felt a surge of victory. You tilted your chin up defiantly, a smirk curving your lips as you threw Captain a challenging look.

“Peter’s not here.” You called out, triumphantly. “You’re not gonna get him, old man.”

It was an overused jab that had more spunk when Peter yelled it. His youth could rub it in for a man of Rogers’ age (truthfully, you did not know his actual age, but he was at least twice the age of Peter and Wanda).

You? Fairies aged differently. You may as well be his age, if not older.

Captain Rogers didn’t seem enraged at your challenge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his face remained impassive as he stared you down.

He motioned at his people to stand down behind then slowly drew out his sword. The sound of a sharp blade leaving its sheath pierced the silence that fell over the sanctuary.

Your fists clenched, the hilt of your dagger digging painfully into your delicate skin. You drew your wings together and rested them against your back to gain more momentum as you charged at him.

You were fast and sneaky, easily avoiding Captain’s first cuts. Unfortunately for you, his large size wasn’t an obstacle to his agility. You learned it quickly as his moves sped up and he matched you in your rapid twists. His bulky frame was surprisingly graceful in a fight.

With a snarl, you managed to cut his shoulder, dark shirt parting where your blade nicked it. Blood soaked that spot, but the Captain didn’t even hiss, nor did he falter in his steps.

He attacked you with ferocity, though you didn’t notice that each of his moves was to disable you rather than kill you. Too immersed in your own rage, you slashed like a caged animal while he remained a sophisticated predator toying with his food.

You twisted around, swaying your arm in a half circle in an attempt to slice his other arm. A sudden pain in your wings pulled you backward. He caught your wings in his metal fingers, delicate filaments nearly crushing under the pressure. With a yelp, you bowed your back to lessen the tugging pain, flailing your arms around to lash at anyone who dared to approach.

Captain Rogers hit your fist with the broad side of his sword, the strength behind it hard enough to make your fingers seize in pain. You dropped the dagger. Before it clattered to the floor, he did the same to your other hand, leaving you weaponless.

Another tug at your wings pulled you backwards to him, then his hand caught one of your wrists, wrenching your arm behind your back.

He had you locked, your side pinned to him as he forced your back to bow further, your face tilting up to him as you did.

Striking blue eyes, reminding you of the electric clear sky after stormy clouds disperse, stared down at you. A cold victory shimmered in his irises.

“I don’t care about getting Peter, little sprite.” Captain’s deep, velvety voice resounded over the rapid fluttering of your heart.

“It was always about you.”

His dark chuckle caused your heart to stop, dread swallowing you in a cold wave.

You never expected to become a part of his sinister plans; your mind filled with horrifying images of being shipped away to unknown lands, sold like a piece of meat, or forced into labor to survive. You were ready to die, if it meant saving your friends, but you never considered a worse fate awaiting.

One of the Captain's crewmen brought a set of shackles, which they locked around your hands. Usually you were able to get out of any regular cuffs, but these seemed to be tailored for a fairy’s slimmer wrists. Attached to it was a heavy chain, the end of which Captain Rogers wrapped around his metal hand.

“You can walk, or you can fly, I don’t care.” He said to you, yanking on the chain and forcing you to stumble into his chest.

With his other hand he gripped a fistful of your hair and loomed over you.

“But you will follow me, sprite. Or another chain will go around your neck and I’ll drag you by it all the way to my ship.”

He led you out of the sanctuary, your feet scurrying after his big strides. Once outside, you spread your wings, helping yourself catch up to Captain’s pace by floating in the air. A small group of his pirates joined you, trading beside and behind. The rest stayed to take down the nets and pack everything.

It really seemed that Captain got exactly what he wanted and you had no idea why it was you.

You looked for any familiar faces that might lurk in the thickness of the jungle, or hide behind rocks, as the pirates led you to the beach where the boats awaited. Anyone, who could carry the news of your capture to Peter, or to your fairy clan.

However, all forms of life seemed to scatter from the Captain’s path.

Perhaps it was the right thing to do. You should’ve abandoned your bold, fierce courage - or stupidity, really - and hide from him, like all reasonable creatures did.

As some of the elders of your clan sighed, you spent too much time joining Peter’s reckless adventures, forgetting your survival instinct.

At the shore, Captain brought you with him into one of the boats. Only two other pirates joined you, their task to row the boat toward the monstrous, black ship out in the open sea. Rogers made you sit down on the bottom of the boat, curled between his spread legs.

He ran a finger down the back of your neck and to where your wings grew out of your back. You hunched forward, then turned your head and glared at him. His mouth curved in a cocky smirk as he teased the outline of your shimmering wing.

You clenched your jaw and hung your head down, feigning pure anger to cover the hint of trembling.

Fairy’s wings were exceptionally sensitive to touch. The stroke of Captain’s fingers evoked a sensation contrary to pain or discomfort. That side of your wings, when teased, would cause your nipples to stiffen and a fire to bloom in your abdomen.

You would never let Hook know about that. He’d use it to humiliate you, or to think of an even worse fate for you. You were sure he had some depraved, disgusting buyers in the dark human offshores.

Once on the ship, the crew parted as Captain Rogers prowled toward his suite. Their eyes leering as they watched you trot behind him. You swallowed, but tilted your chin high. You even sent a glare at one or two of the pirates.

Your breath stuttered in your chest, your eyes growing big, when among the crew you noticed a dark haired woman. Tight braids adorned with beads and a pirate’s outfit on her body, but you recognized Echo. Or someone who looked so much like her. She sent you a dismissive look, as if she wasn’t bothered by your presence. She definitely didn’t seem to be in distress.

You had no time to wonder about Echo’s ties to the pirate crew, because Rogers opened the door to his cabin and pushed you inside. Heavy wood closed behind you with a booming finality.

The first thing you saw was a long table with maps, plans and navigating instruments. Books lined shelves on the sides. A few trinkets glinted in the dimmed darkness.

The cabin was separated in half by a heavy curtain. When Captain led you around the table toward it and parted the folds of the embroidered fabric, you froze on the spot.

That you’d see the private, sleeping part of his quarters was something you expected. But it was the thing beside his big bed, lined with layers of soft looking linens and silks, that made you stumble a step back.

A large, human sized birdcage hung beside the bed. Pillows fluffed atop its bottom didn’t change the fact it was a scary, humiliating prison. Undoubtedly made for you.

“I’d rather be tossed in the brick with other slaves you’re about to sell.” You gritted your teeth, yanking on the chain which Rogers’ held in his hand.

“Sell?” He approached you, a cruel smile on his pretty lips.

He traced a single finger along your cheek and you flinched away from his touch, despite how strangely soothing it felt for your rattled heart.

“Sprite, why would I sell something that can bring me regular profit rather than just a one time gain?” Captain chuckled.

Not the least discouraged by your body leaning away, he slid his hands down your arms. The fact his touch was gentle and not a forced manhandling, somehow made the disgust in you grow.

“See, I’m well aware that fairy dust gives more than just the ability to fly for a few minutes.” He opened your shackles, dropping them and the chain to the floor with a loud clunk. “Though, that in itself would sell greatly.”

He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing tightly and forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I know that fairy dust gives an euphoric rush and enhances strength, speed, and senses. Even if the effect is short, it's a drug most sought after.”

You heard of it - of what your dust gave people. Peter and your friends gained from it, but for joy and freedom. Others wanted the power of it for more nefarious deeds. And, as it always was with people, they wanted more and more and more.

“I plan on reaping the benefits of selling it regularly. And you, little sprite, are my source.”

With a wicked grin, Rogers kissed you on the lips. A short, harsh thing. Then he pulled back, laughing at your stunned face.

It took you a second to regain your train of thought as your brain scrambled - both at his admission and the kiss. Ire rose, rebellion against aiding the damned pirate in any way bubbling hot like lava.

“Ha!” You scrunched your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not shedding a single flake of dust for you, asshole. Keep me locked as long as you want, you’re not getting any.”

You expected a flash of anger. Hell, you wanted to annoy him! You wanted to push all his buttons, rip them free and stuff them down his throat so he chokes.

But he remained calm, amused even. Studied you with a head tilted to the side, corners of his mouth still lifted upward in a smile.

Then, in a split second, he had a hand behind your neck, fingers gripping tightly.

He dragged you across the room, toward a wooden pillory which you didn’t notice earlier. You growled out your protest, heels digging into the floor planks as you fought against Captain's grip. It was futile. He overpowered you easily.

With the help of his metal hand, he had you bending down. Your neck settled into a bigger half-moon in the middle of the pillory. He forced your hands to rest in the smaller circles. Then locked the upper part, trapping you in. A padlock clicked in place.

Your wings fluttered wildly, your feet lifting off the floor, but it changed nothing. He had you bound in an uncomfortable, humiliating position.

He crouched in front of you, blue eyes staring into yours with a dark glint.

“Ah, sprite. You underestimate me.” His smirk grew and a dreadful feeling settled deep in your gut.

“I knew you wouldn’t shed dust for me willingly. I also know that there is another instance when a fairy sprinkles it. Uncontrollably, I’d say.”

No! He couldn’t know that. Nobody did.

That was a secret of the fairies, shared with absolutely no one. You never told Peter or anyone else. You knew no other fairies would reveal it, no matter how strongly they trusted human friends.

Yet everything inside you sensed that the Captain spoke the truth. He knew the truth.

“I- I have no idea what you are talking about.” You huffed out, but you suspected your bluff was easily caught.

“Of course you do, sweet little sprite.” Rogers chuckled.

He straightened and slowly walked around you. He didn’t even reprimand you for struggling in the stockade, trying to somehow break the sturdy wood. He was this secured in his dominance over you.

There was a long, silent pause, heightening your trepidation since you were unable to see what he was doing behind you.

A big, warm hand rested right above your wings, then teasingly slowly dragged between them all the way to your ass. A brush along your wings was enough to send a faint zap of sensation to your core. Rogers flipped your green dress up, exposing your butt. He splayed his hand over one buttock, warming up your skin.

He pulled his hand away. A second later a loud smack resounded, evoking a burning sting and causing you to squeak.

His fingers spread over the spot, rubbing soothingly and turning the pain into pleasant throbbing. He draped himself over you as he looked down at your bowed head from above the pillory.

“A fairy sprinkles dust when they’re aroused.” Rogers recited the most intimate secret.

“Well, you don’t arouse me!” Your fingers clenched into fists as you hissed at him.

“Don’t I?” Captain hummed.

With his foot he kicked your legs wider apart. Next his hand landed with a softer slap over your pussy. He kept his fingers there. Held them pressed against you, starting a slow circular motion that drew out wetness you shouldn’t be presenting at his proximity.

A whimper escaped your mouth as you felt your clit throb beneath his fingers. The thin fabric of your bottoms growing a wet spot.

“There she is.” Captain drawled in pleasure, tracing his metal finger along the back of your neck.

Dust glittered on your skin, the tiny flakes clinging to his finger as he touched your skin.

His touch disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of relief and confusing longing, as Rogers moved around to face you again.

He crouched down, showing you his finger that now shined with fairy dust.

“You may think I'm repulsive, sprite, but I will do things to your body that will make you burst in fountains.” He traced your lips with that finger, withdrawing it just in time before you thought to bite it (even if your teeth would crack against the metal of his prosthetic).

“No, I won’t!” You sneered, struggling in your bonds.

Captain’s face leaned closer, his breath puffing against your lips as he spoke:

“I’ll have you creaming and dusting yourself like a pathetic, needy slut. And you’ll learn to beg for it.”

He stood up, once again leaving you clueless about what he was about to do to you. The stocks prevented you from movement, but also blocked out any way of catching in your peripheral vision what was happening behind it. No way for you to prepare yourself for whatever the Captain did.

He slid your green bottoms down your legs in one swift move. You shrieked and tried to kick him. A cold, metal grip crushed your ankle. Your bones rattled, the pressure of his hold warning you of how easily he could break you if he wished.

“Keep your feet on the floor, or I’ll shackle them too.” He barked, releasing your leg.

You considered kicking him again, but then your brain lost the ability to connect thoughts to motions as another slap jerked your body.

His hand met your bare skin now, the sting of it more intense. He gave you no pause as he began raining steady hits across your ass. Your body tensed, heat from the burning in your butt spreading in waves through your body. Perspiration shone on your skin, your breathing growing heavier.

Then his fingers teased along your parted folds, dipping into shameful wetness that dripped out of you.

You couldn’t comprehend how he managed that. The spanking has hurt, it shouldn’t rouse your body. Your position was humiliating. You were a captive against your will! And yet… Captain Rogers had you trembling with growing need.

“Nooo!” You moaned a protest when his fingers gathered your wetness and started circling your clit.

Your thighs tensed. You wanted nothing more but to close them and stop this madness, but Captain slotted himself between them, the fabric of his pants abrasive on your delicate skin.

“Yes, sprite.” He rubbed your nub harder. “Let it go.”

He watched, mesmerized, as your skin started glowing. A delicate shimmer at first that turned brighter as your arousal spiked. The higher he pushed you the more dust appeared. Your skin looked like it was covered in a layer of sweet glitter. Your wings seemed to be encrusted with crushed gems, sprinkles falling all around as your wings fluttered.

A single long, big finger slid into you, spearing through your tight walls. An intrusion that set everything inside you on fire, causing the fairy dust to fall all around as you seized in pleasure.

He kept pushing into you, even as you sagged. Pleading noises bubbled on your lips; for what, you weren’t even sure anymore. A second finger joined the first, stretching you. He curled them and the spot he nudged elicited another lewd moan from you.

Captain’s cool, metal hand touched the small of your back. Surprisingly gently this time. He slid his fingers up, teasing the underside of your wing. Silver metal of his prosthetic covered in the thick brilliance of your dust, sparkles of rainbow caught in the light.

He moved his hand further and gripped your wing a tad harder, not enough to cause pain though. That, combined with incessant thrusting of his fingers, toppled you over another peak.

You came with a hoarse cry, dropping your head low as dust fluttered from your fingers which clenched and straightened in spasm as you rode out your orgasm.

When he pulled out his fingers, a squelch of your sopping pussy humiliated you further. His metal hand gave your folds a little pat; you had to clench your jaw to stop another moan from falling out.

Captain remained quiet. No teasing words, no victorious jab.

You thought you heard him hum in delight. A silent pause stretched. Then a loud groan.

“Fuck.” His low, husky voice sent a shiver up your spine.

His steps sounded heavier as he moved, as if he suddenly gained more weight or strength. He squatted in front of you. Your head felt heavy as you slowly lifted it up to look at him.

His irises weren’t simply blue anymore. They mirrored a jeweled shimmer of fairy dust.

His skin seemed aglow, too. All of him pulsed with power.

“That I did not know, sweet sprite.” He said, wonder and hunger bursting a starlight in his eyes.

“That your juices are more potent than a whole bottle of fairy dust.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “I merely sucked your slick off my fingers and the power that it gave me? Oh, sprite- I feel it charging through me like a lightning bolt.”

“A thimble of fairy dust gives a kick. A nice high with some enhanced perks for a short while. Your cream? It’s a storm in veins, sprite. A little lick and I’m a step from a god.”

“No! No, please, no, you can’t-” Your brain turned frantic, fear creeping up through your still softened with pleasure body.

If he told anyone of that, not only would your fate be chained to the gutter, but all the other fairies would be at risk. Hunted and ripped apart for limitless greed of monsters like Captain Rogers.

“Relax, little sprite.” His hand cupped your cheek, his voice almost soothing. His eyes, a galaxy of captivating darkness. “I have no intention of sharing this power with anyone. No, sweetling, I’ll be the only one you give it to.”

“The others will pay high for the dust you sprinkle around plentifully. But your sweet, tiny cunt? It belongs to me now.”

He leaned in, sealing your lips with his own. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices not having the same effect on you as it did on him, but the hunger of his kiss stirred something inside you.

He broke the kiss with a bite to your lip, which he soothed with a flick of his tongue. Then he was standing up and moving again, until he nestled himself between your thighs.

His hands squeezed your buttocks, spreading them to allow him even easier access to your glistening, puffy folds. He licked you with a broad stroke of his tongue; the sensation made you shudder, your hips tilting upwards in an involuntary invitation.

He devoured you, mouthing on your pussy as if it was the juiciest, sweetest fruit. He lapped up each trickle of your slick, forced his tongue inside then swirled it around your clit. Bristles of his beard brushed your skin, adding to the hazy pleasure. You knew you’ll have burns from how ferociously he ate you out.

You came into his mouth, despite trying to hold it off. Your whimpers mixed with Captain’s groan of delight.

He licked you clean, wasting no single drop, then trailed hot open mouthed kisses across your inner thigh and over your ass. Your legs shook as he straightened up. Rustling of fabric reached your ears, your dizzy brain recognizing clothes being taken off.

“Might be a tight fit, sprite.” Captain’s husky chuckle made your pussy clench.

Your weak whine unfurled into a wanton moan as the tip of his big cock stretched your opening.

Captain Rogers was much larger than you in size overall, you never considered before that he may be proportionately bigger in every detail of his body. The breach of his cock felt nearly painful, yet his girth seemed to rub against spots which were never touched properly before.

He kept pushing in, in, in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He pierced into you deeper, filing you completely.

“You taste amazing and you feel exquisite, too.” He gripped your hip with his metal hand and the curve of your upper wing with his flesh one as he bottomed out.

“Ah, sprite! You’re so tight around me I may want to stay inside forever.”

He ran his fingers along the curve of your wing, sending little shocks straight to your core. Your pussy fluttered, sipping more slick.

“You like that, sweetling?” Captain purred, stroking your wing again, at the same time rocking his hips into you slowly. “Yeah, you do. I’ll make you see fireworks. Turn you into a little sparkling firework, too.”

Tightening his hold on you, he withdrew. Then slammed back into you with force, evoking your cry.

He fucked you with steady, deep thrusts, speeding up when your skin covered in new sheen of dust. Glittering powder seeped through his fingers where they rested on your wing; speckles of dust flaked from your thighs and ass with each sharp slap of his hips.

Your whole body tensed, wings spreading wide and feet nearly flying off the floor as his cock drove into a particularly sensitive spot. You saw stars bursting white in your eyes and your whole body glimmered with a powdered rainbow.

Your cries grew louder, then your voice scraped raw after another, and another climax. Still, Captain was fucking you through it. You had no idea if it was him alone, or if your magic that he gorged on made him able to last so long.

When he finally finished, spilling inside you with a loud, beastly grunt, you were sweaty and shiny, and completely boneless. You nearly dropped to your knees when Captain slipped out and let go of you.

With a breathless chuckle, he wrapped an arm under you and pulled you up. With his other hand he opened the padlock and released you from the stockade. You fell into his arms half-consciously, even your wings felt heavy, dropping down, too tired to make any motion.

“See, little sprite, you dusted for me in abundance.” He mocked your earlier rebellion as he scooped you up.

The floor was covered in a thick layer of sparkling dust. Enough to fill a few vials.Your small feet left an imprint in the shimmery drizzle in the spot from which Captain picked you up.

You had no strength to fight him when Rogers carried you across the suite. He opened the birdcage and sat you down on fluffy pillows. Arranged your body quite comfortably in your new, narrow prison. He locked it and swayed the cage with a gentle push.

He watched you with clear, untired eyes (still sparkling with extreme power), while you peeked at him through heavy eyelids. You saw him wrap his fingers around his softening cock, gathering your mixed juices and bringing his hand up to his face. He licked it clean, his irises anew igniting with power.

His skin glowed, though you weren’t sure if it’s only the sweat from your coupling, or if your magic thrummed beneath his skin so vividly. His muscles looked to be carved from marble. Veins curved in places which you never paid attention to in any man.

He looked like a god he claimed to feel like.

A beautiful monster who you should despise for the rest of your life, no matter how your body shivered under his touch.

“Rest now, sprite.” Captain cooed as your head leaned against one of the bars. “If you prove to be good, you might earn yourself bed rights someday.”

He swayed the cage again, rocking you to sleep. Despite your effort to stay awake, to not waste a second and start forming a plan of escape, drowsiness was taking over your exhausted body.

You fell asleep as you watched Captain pull on his pants - and nothing else - and bend over the map table, scribbling something down. A new course to lands where he could profit from your dust.

Or doomed places where he could test the power that owning you gave him.

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 year ago

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Always There - Prologue : S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Azkaban

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

Author's Note: It's been a long ass time my friends, but I'm trying to make a come back here. I was a bit out of my comfort zone with this one so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 629

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

Y/N Potter became an aunt in 1980 to a wonderful little boy named Harry. Her brother, James, had asked her to be the boy's godmother, as his best friend Sirius was named the boy's godfather. She of course accepted this honor, not knowing that a year later, the boy would be hers to take care of.

The night of Lily and James Potter’s death, as well as Lord Voldemort, Y/N was left by some of the most important people in her life. Peter had died, murdered by a supposed friend, Sirius Black, who was thrown in Azkaban after killing Peter and a dozen muggles. And then there was Remus, who had just left without a word, no note, no letter, just left. Remus was like another brother to Y/N, they had become friends before James and Remus became friends. So when he left without a trace, she was quite upset, she had just lost her brother and sister-in-law, one of their friends, another getting locked up and she was all alone with a baby that she didn’t know how to care for.

That was until she had run into Severus Snape at the late Potters’ grave not even a week later. He was leaving a fresh lily on the stone as she walked into the cemetery. They sat and talked for over an hour until Harry began whining to eat. This became a routine for the two adults. Eventually Severus began to help Y/N take care of Harry and herself, getting the Potter girl a job at Hogwarts with Professor Sprout after remembering that Herbology was her favorite subject. He helped her around the house and the two became unlikely friends.

By the time Harry had reached 11, Y/N was offered the position as Herbology professor after Sprout had retired. She of course accepted the position, the first person other than Harry being told was Severus. She had gotten the job thanks to not only Professor Sprouts’ recommendation but also Severus, McGonagall and Binns. Getting a recommendation from Professor Binns was her greatest accomplishment other than being able to raise Harry when she was just barely an adult. She did give a lot of thanks to Severus for helping her raise the boy.

Although Severus and James never got along, Severus had always been fond of the Potter girl. She was his favorite Potter that he had ever interacted with, which had only been four but that hadn’t mattered to him. Severus was quite fond of Lily but after realizing she was unattainable, he was able to move on from her. His fondness shifted to a different Potter, this time Y/N. Severus acted like a guard dog in a way, trying his damnedest to keep her safe and happy.

Not only did he act this way to her but also Harry. The boy grew up seeing Severus nearly everyday and had taken to calling the man Uncle Sev when he was 4. Severus had a fondness for Harry but nothing like the fondness he had for the boy’s aunt. Although her brother and his friends were terrible to him, Severus always liked the Potter girl better than her mischievous brother. He knew she was much different from her brother, more reserved, more intelligent, kinder.

The two grew closer and closer as the years went on, it got to a point that other professors were betting on when they would get together and students were constantly asking if they were a couple. Of course the two denied it but then later fantasized about being with the other instead of fessing up to their feelings. However, everything went astray during Harry's third year. Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban and Remus Lupin the new DADA professor.

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scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year ago

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Work of art

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Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 2400

Content: being eachother's muses, artists falling in love.

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He had been keeping an eye on you for quite some time now. And every time he spotted you, you were seated with that same book, scribbling something into it. But what got to him most was how you allowed everyone but him to take a peek inside it. What was it, that it’s secret content was never shared with him.

Now you were lounging on a ledge in his office waiting for your mission, but you were content with your headphones on and a pencil in hand. Some times he would forget you were there but he could always feel your gaze on him. He suppressed a smile as his eyes flitted back to his screens, he had never known another person could outbid him at being standoffish.

But this calm peace around him broke when the team gathered and you stirred from your spot to hop down and greet Peter B Parker. He frowned, he had been here the entire time and you had failed to approach him. He resumed his stance, this shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did.

There you were again, now laughing with Peter as Mayday giggled, showing him pages from that damn book. His claws began to emerge from his skin. He was going to give you the cold shoulder too then.

“Why are you so moody today?”, LYLA popped by his shoulder to ask.

“I’m not.”, he mumbled.

“It tends to happen whenever she’s around.”, she wiggled her eyebrows at him which only frustrated him more.

“I’m not moody.”, he spoke through his teeth.

“Surely looks like you are.”, LYLA laughed.

He huffed to turn to the group but his eyes could only keep coming back to you, your shared smiles with Pavitr, your eased body language around Hobie but it only pushed him further into a state of despair when he noticed Miles laughing about something in your book.

He got down from his podium, he was the boss here but the moment your eyes caught his, his anger disappeared and he forgot his words.

Why was it so hard to exert control over you?

He should have you at his beck and call but it was you who had power over him. You could call for him and he would be by your side in an instant.

“Mission allocation.”, he addressed the group.

He sent each one away with a task to do and then there was only you.

“Don’t tell me I’m still suspended.”, you folded your arms because being around him for extended periods of time did you no good.

“Unfortunately, you are.”, he turned away as though he had a chip on his shoulder and his only motive was to cut you deep.

“Fine, then I’m going home.”, you rebelled stomping after him.

“You can’t.”, he replied without so much as even looking at you not affected by your glares.

“Why are you so infuriating?”, you edged closer to him, to get into his line of sight.

“I'm infuriating? You're- ”, he met your gaze as he swallowed the rest of his phrase and your fingers itched for your pencil again, to draw him from this perspective, especially with how the lights fell on his face. It was getting out of hand, he occupied every little corner of your mind and you ran out of pages in your sketchbook from drawing him.

“Ugh.”, you turned away, he was in your head, taunting and tempting you and now you needed another book to capture his pretty face and his emotions. It wasn’t fair that you had to be so affected by him while he was a wall of stone.

“You know what, fine, have it your way.”, you gave up now stuck in close proximity that you were sure the final book you had was going to be filled with sketches of him in his office.

His eyes widened as though he was about to take it back, the brown in his pupils softening to a warm hazel. You wished you had your other art supplies, to capture this new color. You were certain you were going mad.

He watched you go back to your spot, the one he had now grown fond of because you inhabited it. But it didn’t make him feel any better to have you be around him against your wishes. But he wanted to find out about the contents of your book and if he could get LYLA to snoop around, his thoughts could be put to rest.

“Or you could ask her.”, LYLA told him to which he chuckled sarcastically.

“She avoids me like I’m a mutating anomaly.”, he typed away on his keyboard. Bringing up a folder that contained pictures from his camera.

All of it holding pictures of you at different places, while at work or here in his office. This was getting out of hand, his hobby had now become a fixation on you, unable to still grasp the extent of your beauty. That the more he took the more he kept and the more he dreamed of you.

“Now just do what I asked you to do.”, he dismissed LYLA, his eyes sneaking glances at you now aware that it was only the two of you here.

Insufferable, you thought as you shaded his back muscles into your sketch.

He was keeping you here to possibly teach you a lesson and it frustrated you because you didn’t mind. You could stay here, on this ledge as observe him for hours. What you couldn’t understand was why he allowed you to. He sensed when someone had their eyes on him, he knew when people held him in their line of sight and yet he hadn’t said a word to you.

LYLA popped up next to you and you scrabbled to shut your book.

“I’m not going to lie to you, he’s getting on my nerves.”, she sighed dramatically and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why? Has he grounded you too?”, you asked to which she adjusted her glasses.

“No, he’s bothered by what’s in that book of yours.”, she muttered and your heart stopped.

“He knows?”, you whispered.

“I’m afraid so.”, she said as she patted down her coat.

“You might have to come clean about it.”, she continued and you sighed closing your eyes.

If he knew, then all this while, he let you watch him because he was waiting make you a public example, expose you to everyone about how insane you were and now there was no way to escape it.

So you hopped down, now feeling guilty of your little obsession. His tall frame loomed over you, every action he did, it made you want to freeze time. To capture the beauty of his hand, the arch of his eyebrows or the shape of his nose.

“Here.”, you held it out to him, as if you were submitting stolen evidence.

He turned to you, his eyes narrowing down on the book you held out.

“Just don’t tell anyone.”, you swallowed, nervous of his reaction.

He held the coveted object in his hands, without waiting a second to open the first page. And instantly, the anticipation in his heart had collapsed.

It was a sketchbook, the first one was of Mayday, then followed by Peter, Hobie and Gwen mid fight, Pavitr riding Jess’s motorcycle. He wasn’t sure why you would have to hide this from him, that was until he flipped to the next page and the page after that to see endless sketches of him. While he was working, while he was sleeping, as he fixed up his suit. He filled all your pages and it made his throat run dry.

“You, you drew these?”, he stuttered.

“I thought you already knew?”, you furrowed your brows as you slowly caught on to what was going on.

“You sent LYLA to spy on me.”, you grabbed your sketchbook from his hands as he searched for an explanation.

“I did not.”, he argued.

“He did.”, LYLA appeared next to him.

“LYLA.”, he chided her but you felt betrayed. That was until you spotted something over his shoulder. A picture jutting out behind a tab. You brushed past him to click on the floating square and as it appeared, you gasped.

“No,- he tried to hold you back but you had seen what you had to see. Buried in the middle of all his reports was a picture of you.

“What is this?”, you asked turning to him, now aware of how he was restraining your arms.

“That’s umm you uhh – he was out of his element, his cheeks turning darker as he blushed.

But to make matters worse LYLA clicked a button and the screens flooded with pictures of you. Pictures that looked like he had taken. You couldn’t turn to see him, because you were sure your cheeks had turned red too.

“Why do you have all these photos of me?”, you asked and in response you heard his sigh.

“The same reason you have all those sketches of me.”, his soft gaze met yours as if you both had been caught red handed.

You matched the intensity in his gaze, his eyes never flinched from yours and every time they were on you, it was as though he was capturing a thousand pictures, drinking in the very sight of you, to memorize you the way you had memorized him. You reached up to touch his cheek and could only watch as he crumbled beneath your touch. Like he craved it, you did too, you could sit for hours to make sculptures of him, to paint pictures of him and fill your room with it.

“What have we done to each other?”, he whispered.

“Found our forever muses.”, you smiled, drinking in the sight of his smooth tan skin as your fingers traced over it.

“Now how are you going to make it up to me?”, you ran your fingers over the shape of his lips to hold the sides of his cheek to make him look at you and watched as he held his breath.

“For what?”, his eyes narrowed, his hands bringing you closer to him.

“For lying to me. For spying on me.”, you smiled and he hummed as though the very sight of your joy made him feel it too.

“I’ve got a few ideas.”, he mumbled as he let you settle on his lap, making him recline in his chair.

“Like?”, you whispered.

“Like sending you home.”, he tucked away your hair behind your ear and it wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Oh.”, you pushed away from him.

He looked at the disappointment in your eyes and tried to rectify his statement but it was too late. He could only watch as you grabbed your book and left. He sunk his hands into his hair, frustrated that he had miscommunicated his intent.

“How is it that you managed to mess that up?”, he heard LYLA laugh next to him.

“Shut up.”, he whined as he came up with a new plan.

You were in your studio, clothed in your jumper and running shorts, staring at a blank canvas in annoyance. Because you wanted to paint him and yet with how he had dismissed you this afternoon, you wanted to try and forget him. There was a knock on your door and you moved to answer it, reducing the volume on your music system on your way out. Opening the door, you were struck by the glimpse of his sculpted physique.

“Why are you here?”, you sulked and he walked past you.

“I’m here to make it up to you.”, He spoke to you as he took in the details of your flat.

“Right. Why don’t you stop wasting your time and get back to your work?”, you brushed past him to your studio.

“No, no, I’m here to commission you for an art piece.”, he got into your line of sight. It was getting hard to ignore him, your mind now getting inspired to fill that blank canvas with a portrait of him.

“What do you want me to paint?”, you asked him in an attempt to make fun of him but his answered stopped you.

“Me.”, he smiled, his eyes shimmering with hidden glee.

“Right, so you can hang it up in your office.”, you dismissed him but he caught your wrist instead.

“No, so you can have it.”, he kissed the edge of your fingertips and you could hear the sound of your heart beating in your throat.

“Why are you doing this?”, you asked as he held your hand over his chest, to feel the rhythm of his heart.

“I want your undivided attention.”, he smiled and you were certain your knees were going to give out.

“All this is not going to get me to do your bidding.”, you stood resilient to his charm only to see his eyes darken, taking on your challenge.

Placing your hand on his chest and holding it there, you inhaled a sharp breath as his suit began to disappear till his waist, as though his shirt had been peeled away and you stuttered for words, entranced by his ethereal elegance. You couldn’t reach for the brushes and painting was the furthest thing on your mind now.

“You can either paint me", he tugged you towards him.

"or kiss me.”, he held your gaze and you dropped the paintbrush you held.

“I’m going to kiss you.”, you told him as if you had a spell cast over you, his hand slipped under your neck as he pulled you in.

His lips were a perfect fit against yours and however hard you tried you could never capture this in drawing, this was only for you to experience. The smoothe panes of his back, the soft warmth that emanated from his body, his hands running up your exposed legs as you sunk your fingers into his hair.

It was passionate as he kissed you for the first time but then it mellowed down as he placed his back on the table, to kiss you slow like he was capturing you in his minds eye.

“Eres una obra de arte.”, he spoke against your lips and you broke away to catch your breath, as you looked at him sprawled beneath you, his hands holding your waist steady. His hair spread out over his head as his cheeks were flush with colour.

“So are you.”, you smiled tracing your thumb over his plush lips. He hummed pulling you in, like he could never have enough of you. His lips met yours again with a renewed passion and as the soft jazz music continued to play in the background, you were certain that these studio sessions were only going to be a lot more frequent.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099

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remussl0vers · 5 months ago

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requesting guide

updated: 17.06.23

please make sure to read this before requesting anything — i'm hoping that you'll respect my boundaries on what am i comfortable with and with not writing.

MASTERLIST

I tend to curse often in my fics, and are usually comfortable with covering more serious topics, so make sure to check the content warning before hand. I always write warnings when I believe they're needed, but do let me know if you think something should be added!

also senders may request as many as they want <3

FORMS OF WRITING :

oneshot

imagine

headcanon

series

alphabet

I tend to write oneshots over 1000 words, so if you want feel free to specify if you want a long or short story.

CONTENT I WRITE :

fluff

angst

sensitive / triggering topics

gore

smut / spice

most tropes ( best at friends to lovers )

I'm pretty comfortable with writing sensitive topics as well as angst ( anyone who's read my works before will know that they're the things I write best ) however, if I'm not comfortable with the topic as a whole I will DM you, or possibly put it off for a while.

*If you have a writing prompt from somewhere as well, feel free to send it through !!

CHARACTERS :

male reader / ftm

gender neutral

genderfluid

original character

I do not write female readers / characters anymore. If there aren't specified pronouns then I will write it as a male character.

There are also some characters I only feel comfortable writing for with a male reader/character and vice versa, which I'll note who.

PAIRINGS :

love interests

platonic

family

polyamorous ships ; depends on the character

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE :

support of homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, racism, sexism, pedophilia, incest ; if they're mentioned in a request in terms of the character being bullied / abused ( in the past ) then i may write it but NOT explicitly, only a mention

a pairing against a character's canon sexuality

rape

pregnancy

female reader

anime

WHO I WRITE FOR :

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES :

charles rowland

edwin payne

monty

niko sasaki ( not romantic )

crystal palace ( not romantic )

DESCENDANTS :

ben beast

harry hook

carlos de vil

jay

mal bertha

evie grimhilde

LOCKWOOD & CO :

anthony lockwood

lucy carlyle

george karim

quill kipps ( friends / family only )

MARAUDERS :

remus lupin

sirius black

regulus black

james potter

lily evans ( not romantic )

evan rosier

barty crouch jr

marlene mckinnon ( not romantic )

dorcas meadows ( not romantic )

pandora lovegood ( not romantic )

mary mcdonald ( not romantic )

MARVEL :

peter parker / spiderman ( tom and andrew )

loki laufeyson

kate bishop

yelena belova ( not romantic )

steve rogers

bucky barnes

pietro maximoff

wanda maximoff

valkyrie ( not romantic )

natasha romanoff

tony stark ( not romantic )

gwen stacy ( emma stone )

gwen stacy ( atsv )

*marvel and particularly the mcu is a fandom i'm more comfortable with than most, so if there is a character not listed, then i may or may not write for them

NARNIA :

prince caspian

peter pevensie

edmund pevensie ( only during dawn treader )

SHADOW AND BONE / SIX OF CROWS :

kaz brekker

inej ghafa

jesper fahey

wylan van eck

nina zenik

alina starkov

nikolai lantsov

genya safin ( not romantic )

matthias helvar

STRANGER THINGS :

steve harrington

jonathon byers

max mayfield

robin buckley ( not romantic )

TEEN WOLF :

stiles stilinski ( *i will take most/all dylan obrien characters )

isaac lahey

scott mccall

liam dunbar ( not romantic )

allison argent

malia tate

lydia martin ( not romantic )

kira yukimura

derek hale

THE HUNGER GAMES :

finnick odair

peeta mellark

katniss everdeen

THE MAZE RUNNER :

newt

thomas

minho

X-MEN :

logan howlett

charles xavier ( james mcavoy )

jean grey

mystique

rogue

erik lehnsherr ( not romantic )

wade wilson / deadpool

kitty pryde

bobby drake

*FANDOMS COMING SOON : PJO, DISNEY, HANNIBAL

#requests #send as many as you want #pls

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, but happy ending.

A/n: This is a request for my theme night by @tee-swizzle "Argument/fighting + hidden injury- “whose blood is that?”

When Rafe first pulled up to my house at nearly two in the morning after texting me that he needed to talk, I wasn't really sure what to expect.

Maybe for me to pee in a cup, maybe for him to go on a rant about how much he hates his life, and I half expected him to be high out of his mind and unruly, untamable and angry.

I didn't expect this.

I alternate between baby wipes and alcohol wipes, trying to stop the deep gash on his forehead and he hisses beneath my touch as if I'm burning him with every dab of the cloths. There are tears streaming steadily from his eyes but no longer because of the pain but now out of pure frustration as he continues his silent treatment.

The only thing he's said to me has been 'hi' and 'I need your help' when he first stepped through my doorway and since then, it's been stone cold, stern radio silence on his end.

"Rafe, what happened?"

I have some ideas; his dad, Barry, maybe even one of his sister's Pogue friends if he made them mad enough. He has this ability to piss anyone and everyone else around him to the point of getting his ass handed to him even though nine times out of ten he puts people on the ground.

But this time, the submissive, broken look in his eyes tell me exactly who did this to him.

"If your dad did this, you need to tell me." He looks up at me with wide eyes, lips parting in a look of shock but it drops into a look of realization. "Who's blood is this? Is this yours?" I ask as I pinch the material of his shirt, looking down at the splotches of blood that must've been splattered on his shirt, someone elses blood.

"My dads..." He trails off, looking at it with wide, guilty eyes as he tries to pull his shirt off but to no avail. I help him lift it over his head as he groans and he pushes me away gently, making his way to his feet. "You can't make me talk about it-"

"Okay-"

"I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to be fucking lectured-"

"Rafe." He looks to me with wide eyes and I stand, reaching out to him gently to place my hands on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles beneath my fingers. "Okay, we don't have to talk." He falls into me before I can even get the sentence out, his hands gripping my shirt and face tucking into the crook of my neck and I freeze, shocked at the sudden choice of affection.

But after a few moments, I relax into him, running my fingers through his air and whispering reassuring reminders into his ear that I'm here, that I'm not going anywhere and that no one will hurt him here.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres @rafesbae01

#rafe #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks fic

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littleoddwriter · 1 year ago

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Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU)

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

#ronny.exe #jesse.talks #pinned post #about this blog #request rules #guidelines

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griffin-girl-r · 1 year ago

Text

Just as I promised

Created: 28.08.2022

Finished: 29.08.2022

Edited: 13.08.2023

Age: 24

Word count: 3,825

Warnings: Vormir mentions

Request: No

Pairings: Peter Parker x Female!Reader , WinterWidow

Summary: Two years after Natasha sacrifices herself, you decided to travel back in time to deliver one warning.

—

"Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own for a little?" You looked concerned at Peter who was holding your daughter in his arms

You and Peter had been best friends from the moment you met each other when you both were 15 and since then things have beautifully grown into a loving relationship.

One year and a half ago he finally asked you to marry him and you happily accepted.

But the most beautiful surprise in your lives was when you found out you were pregnant not long after the wedding and you had been blessed with the most beautiful baby girl.

"Yeah. We'll be fine, love. Don't worry. You're literally going to be gone for 5 seconds. Me and Natalie are going to be just fine." Peter smiled reassuringly as he softly kissed you on your lips

You and Peter decided to name your daughter after the 2 most important women in your lives.

Natalie May Romanoff-Parker was born 4 months ago and completed your happiness with her arrival in your lives.

Sadly, none of the women whose names she's wearing got to actually meet her.

Your mom died 2 years ago, sacrificing her life for a damn stone.

You and Peter had not been dusted but she somehow felt the need to be the one to give up on her life to bring back half of the universe.

—

That was the reason that had brought you here.

After working and repairing the time machine, you decided to go back in time and warn your mother to never go to Vormir and if she listened to you, you could have her back and she could enjoy seeing her granddaughter grow.

"Look, Y/N..." Peter smiled "We will be just fine. You go there and bring Miss Romanoff back so we can all be a full family once again."

You let out a deep sigh and nodded "I'm just worried for both of you. You know how much I love you two. I know that for you will only feel like 5 seconds but I don't know how much time it will pass for me."

Peter nodded.

He knew how much you loved him and your daughter. He loved you even more. But he also knew that without Natasha, you'll never be truly happy again.

He knows you can convince her.

He believes in you.

"We both love you so much." Peter slightly helt your daughter up "And we know you can do it. Go, Mama! Go!" Peter cheered in a baby voice as he pretended to talk for your daughter

You chuckled as a new wave of confidence washed over you. You could do it.

You leaned and kissed little Natalie's forehead then Peter's lips and stepped up on the platform.

Just then Bucky ran inside the room as fast as he could and smiled as soon as he saw you on the platform.

"Here's my baby doll." He came and kissed your head before going next to Peter and kissed his granddaughter's head too

Bucky, your dad, could not miss this.

He begged you to let him come with you but you told him that your mom would recognize him from the beginning and that you could handle it yourself.

He feels guilty for Natasha's death. He thinks that because of him she chose to give up on her life for the soul stone.

The guilt was eating him alive and that, besides his endless love for Natasha, was one of the reasons that pushed him to work day and night without rest to bring the love of his life back.

She deserved to be there with you and him and Peter and Natalie.

He planned on making her retire and move together with him. He wanted to finally fulfill that promise he made her 25 years ago.

And that was the one of making her his wife.

That's why he put all his trust in you.

"I know you'll be able to make your mama choose the right way and stay with us." Bucky smiled "It's time to make her feel happy and loved." He looked at his granddaughter smiling before turning back to look at you "And I know that little Natalie will love to have her grandma around."

You nodded with a small smile on your face "Thank you, Papa. I promise that when I come back, Mama will be here with us."

Bucky walked to the control panel to make sure everything goes well and you travel back in time safely.

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!" You heard Peter whisper-shout in a baby voice as he held your daughter's hand very gently, moving it up and down, cheering for you

You couldn't wait to hear Natalie finally calling you 'mama' and from the moment you found out you were expecting her, you suddenly understood everything your mom had done for you and to protect you.

You hated to admit it but your mom was right. You did finally understand her when you became a mother yourself.

—

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1..." Bucky shouted before pressing a button on the panel

"See you in a minute..." You smiled at Peter as the sight of him holding Natalie was the last thing you saw before being thrown back in time

—

You opened your eyes and found yourself in a park.

But that wasn't just a random park.

You recognized it.

It was the park Natasha always brought you to after she escaped the Red Room.

You smiled.

It has been a long time since you have gone to this specific park.

Thinking about it better, now you plan to bring Natalie here too once you are back home.

Safe and sound and with your mother being back too.

Snapping back to reality, you quickly pressed a few buttons on your traveling suit making it disappear, leaving you in some normal, casual clothes.

—

It didn't take you long after you started looking around the park to find Natasha.

She was sitting on a bench, with an empty stroller in front of her, and making funny sounds while smiling widely at a baby she was holding in her arms.

Wait.

That wasn't just any random baby.

That was baby you.

Once the realization of what was in front of you washed over you, suddenly your legs decided to give up on you and you were hit with the need to start crying.

But you didn't allow them to make you fall on your knees.

You fought with all of your strengths to gather yourself up again and to find the courage to go talk with her.

—

You started walking to Natasha and stopped beside the empty side of the bench she was sitting on.

"Can I sit for a moment please?" You pointed to the empty side "It will be really quick."

You were so lucky that all the nearby benches were occupied, so the reason for you sitting down beside her specifically wasn't that weird.

"Of course." Natasha looked suspicious at you before looking back down at the baby in her arms

"Thank you." You mumbled as you sat down trying your best to hide the birthmark that was on your left cheek

You knew that the small birthmark on your left cheek was an instant giveaway about your real identity and you didn't want young Natasha to know who you actually are.

"That's a really beautiful baby. Is the baby yours?" You asked as sweetly as you could while you pretended to work on your shoelaces

Natasha smiled widely "Yeah... She's my daughter. My little miracle."

You quickly smiled before continuing to work on the shoelaces "Let me tell you that you look really young and beautiful to already be a mother, ma'am."

Natasha lightly laughed at your comment "Oh, please!" She smiled "Don't call me that. I think we're roughly the same age."

"Well... How old are you?" You questioned Natasha although you knew exactly what her answer was going to be

"A couple of months shy over 17." Natasha started to gently rock the baby in her arms "How old are you?"

"I'm 24." You eyed Natasha from the corner of your eyes "You're very young to already have a baby. What made you want one at this age?"

Natasha thought for a second about her answer "It just happened... You know... I got pregnant even though I already knew I had trouble conceiving a baby and my daughter it's a true miracle that if she hadn't been born when she was, most probably I never would have had a child. She's everything I ever wanted and it's my reason to keep going every day." She smiled before it faded away "It's such a shame her father never got to meet her."

"What happened to him?" You curiously questioned your mother

Natasha frowned "He unfortunately died a little before our daughter was born. He was killed..." She sadly answered

You knew she wasn't lying. Until Bucky showed up alive out of nowhere with his mind wiped, Natasha always believed he was dead. Killed by HYDRA because they found out that he was the one who fathered the baby of the Red Room's best assassin and spy.

But you were not going to push Natasha into telling you more. You know how painful it was for her to think Bucky's dead.

"What was his name?" You asked one last question about your dad

"James..." Natasha sadly whispered

"What's your daughter's name?" You cheerfully changed the subject of the discussion

Natasha wasted no second in answering you "Y/N Rose Romanoff."

"What a coincidence!" You decided to play your card "My name is Rose too."

"Really?" Natasha smiled unsure

"Yeah... My name is..." You quickly thought about your answer "Rose Parker." You held up your hand "Nice to meet you, young lady."

Natasha shook your hand as she slightly laughed, holding baby you with one arm "Natasha Romanoff."

"Your daughter looks so much like you." You pointed at baby you even though the fact that grown-up you was a perfect copy of Natasha was very much obvious "How old is she?"

That fact hadn't passed unnoticed by Natasha as well but she kept silent for the moment.

"She's 6 months old." Natasha kept a close eye on you but still smiled at you

"That's so sweet. My daughter just turned 4 months old a few days ago." You noticed Natasha being taken slightly aback by your answer

"You have a daughter too?" She gently put baby you in the stroller and turned to have a better look at you

That question lifted your mood instantly. You loved talking about Natalie just as much as Natasha loved talking about you.

"I do actually." You smiled as you pulled a small photo of Natalie from your pocket and handed it to Natasha

Usually, you would have shown her the multitude of photos you have of your daughter on your phone but she would have understood something was going on the moment she saw such a modern phone that still had decades before being invented and produced.

Natasha took the photo from you and carefully studied the baby's face "She's really beautiful. She looks like a little angel. Just like my Y/N."

You quietly sighted relieved at your mom's words about your daughter.

Only if she knew that the baby girl in the photo was her own granddaughter...

"Thank you so much." You played it cool, trying to not raise any suspicion "She's little Natalie." But without realizing you also added "She's named after my mother."

Damn it!

You have said it!

You are doomed!

"Where is your mother now?" Natasha handed you back the photo

You sighed sadly as your head hung low "She's dead." You tried to fight back your tears "Sadly, she died 2 years ago."

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Natasha lightly patted your back "I never got to meet my mom. She abandoned me when I was still a baby." She thought she was making you feel better about this "How was your mother like?"

"She... She was the most loving woman in this or any other world. She was caring, always putting me on the first place and she was the most beautiful woman to ever exist. She was incredibly smart, and funny and she had such a big heart. She was my entire world." You smiled between sniffs as you described the way Natasha was "If I hadn't have had my boyfriend who now it's my husband, Natalie's dad, I think I would have followed my mom. I loved her so much."

A few tears fell down your cheeks and you quickly wiped them away as more threatened to make their way out.

"She sounds like she was the best mother ever." Natasha kept her gaze on you but her attention never left the baby who was peacefully sleeping in the stroller

Only if baby you knew back then what was going to happen in her life...

"She was the best mother." You stood up "It was so nice meeting you but unfortunately I need to go. My daughter, it's waiting for me back home."

Natasha nodded "Of course. It was a pleasure getting to talk with you. I hope we'll see each other again one day really soon. And maybe our daughters could even be friends and play together."

"I think they'll get along really well." You chuckled "Oh, and before I leave, I have something to tell you." You took a deep breath in "Whatever you do don't ever go to Vormir. Trust me, you don't want to go there."

"Vormir?" Natasha asked confused "What is that? A store or something?"

'Only if you knew, Mama... Only if you knew..." You thought.

"Something like that." You turned your back to Natasha and rushed to leave as soon as you could "It doesn't matter as long as you don't go there."

You started to walk away when suddenly you've been pulled back by someone grabbing your arm.

"Who sent you?" Natasha whispered through her teeth as she held you in place "Are you a Widow? Did Dreykov send you? Or you're one of HYDRA's experiments that were sent to take my daughter as a replacement for James?"

"Neither one of them." You chocked out before turning around and leaving Natasha with a clear sight of your face

You could see how Natasha's angry "mama bear" face instantly fell and she became speechless the moment she spotted the little birthmark on your left cheek.

Her eyes moved between your face and her baby's face. The resemblance between you and her was now more obvious and undeniable than ever.

"Hi, Mama." You tearfully smiled at Natasha

Natasha let go of your arm and shoot up on her feet too being again taken aback by the fact that you were not only older than her but also taller.

"Y/N?" Natasha's voice shook as she whispered your name in disbelief

"In the flesh." You chuckled nervously

"How... How is this possible?" Natasha kept questioning you and you had a feeling that she had a lot of questions for you

You sighed deeply "Time travel."

"If the time traveling it's real..." Natasha thought for a second "Then... What year are you exactly coming from?"

"I'm Y/N from the year 2025." You awkwardly answered " 'Parker' is my husband's last name."

"So you're actually married? And you have a baby?" She fought back her tears of happiness

All she ever wanted for you was to be happy. To be safe, healthy and do anything you love.

You nodded with a smile on your face "His name is Peter, he's the sweetest boy in the entire world and we've been best friends ever since we were both 15. We got married a year and a half ago and four months ago our little angel was born."

You pulled your phone out from a secret pocket in your jacket and showed Natasha the lock screen.

There was a picture of you, Peter, and Natalie from a few weeks ago.

Natasha very gently took the phone from your hand in her shakey one and stared at it.

"You 3 are the perfect family." Natasha smiled widely as an unexpected feeling of pride washed over her

"Thank you so much, Mama." You unlocked the phone for Natasha and started to show her more pictures of you and your perfect family "Despite having this beautiful family I still miss you, Mama."

Natasha looked at you and quickly pulled you in a tight hug, remembering everything you said about your mom "Oh, sweetheart..." She started to rub your back "I'm so sorry... What happened to me?"

"You... died in a war." You weren't sure that you fully wanted to reveal your secret to young Natasha "You died as a hero but you didn't get the chance to be there for our wedding or when Natalie was born. Even Papa misses you like crazy. He refuses to get out of the house unless he's going to the store to buy diapers and toys for little Nat."

"Your papa?" Natasha was confused "He's still alive?"

"Yes he is but it's a really long story about how we found him so I won't tell you just now... You'll have to live and find out yourself." You slightly smirked

Natasha laughed "You little snake."

You smiled before sighing sadly "I wish you were there for all those moments you've missed in the past 2 years. That's why I'm here. I traveled back in time to give you a warning. Don't go to Vormir."

Natasha nodded because she knew you were not going to give her more information about what this Vormir was "I promise I won't, baby."

You smiled being satisfied by your mother's answer.

After thanking her you looked over her shoulder and at the baby who was sleeping without a worry in the world knowing she was loved and protected by her mama.

Natasha smiled reassuringly at you as she stepped aside for you to have a better view of baby you.

You leaned closer and whispered to the baby with a smile on your face "Don't worry, little girl. You're going to be just fine. Mama will keep you safe in this cold and cruel world you were born into. But have no fear because her love for you has no boundaries and she'll do everything she can to protect you. Love and cherish her as much as you can. She deserves it."

Then you stood back up and looked at the young version of your mother as she wiped her happy tears away "I really need to go. I can't spend more time here."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay? Is this journey dangerous?" Natasha looked concerned at you as the mama bear was showing up

"I'm going to be just fine. This is not dangerous and in the blink of an eye I'll be back home with my 2 loves and hopefully, you'll be there too." You laughed "You know, my friends used to call you 'mama bear Romanoff' and that title never stopped to be true."

Natasha cupped your cheeks "I'm your mama. I could never stop protecting you. Adult or not, you'll forever be my baby."

"I might as well admit this to young you because I'll never be able to admit it to older you but you were right, Mama." You could see the puzzled look on Natasha's face "I do understand you now that I'm a mother myself."

"Well, that makes me so happy to hear, little angel." Natasha kissed your nose

You pulled yourself away from Natasha and pressed a button on your bracelet.

Your traveling suit instantly materialized itself on you as the only thing Natasha was able to do was to watch impressed.

"This was yours." You pointed to the suit

"That's... impressive." She admitted

"Oh, you just wait and see. This is nothing compared to what things there will be invented in the future." You laughed again

"I can't wait to see." Natasha nervously answered back

"I love you so much, Mama. I hope I'll see you soon." You looked one last time at the 17-year-old version of your mother

"I love you so much more baby girl. I promise we'll see each other very soon." Natasha smiled softly as she looked a little concerned at you, thinking about how safe this time traveling was

But before Natasha had time to think twice about it, you were already gone.

—

You landed on the platform back home and quickly disabled your suit as you hopefully looked around the room in hopes of seeing Natasha there.

"Peter, where's my mom?" You asked hopefully as you approached Peter who was holding Natalie

"She-" He started to say

But Peter was quickly interrupted by Natasha's voice.

"I'm right here, baby. I just left to bring Natalie her bottle." Natasha walked inside the room and held up a small pink baby bottle that was your daughter's

You sprinted with the speed of light into your mother's arms and hugged her as if she would disappear if you let go.

Natasha shared the hug "I'm right here, baby. Just as I promised I would be."

You started crying like a small baby in her arms.

Natasha was here.

She was actually here with you.

Your plan had worked.

"Don't worry, doll. The only place your mama will leave is at the restaurant I'm going to take her tonight." Bucky winked at Natasha and she gave him a death glare back

"James..." Natasha sighed disappointed

"What?!" Bucky threw his hands in the air

You sniffed and started to wipe your tears away as you looked around the room with a wide smile "My family is back together again."

Peter smiled and walked up to you and Natasha, passing a now-awake Natalie to you.

"Hi there, baby!" You excitedly kissed your daughter's little nose "How was my love's nap?"

"Hey! I thought I was your love." Peter playfully pouted as he crossed his arms

"Sorry, honey. Now our daughter comes first. But don't worry. I love you just as much." You kissed his pout away "Better?"

Peter nodded with a chuckle "Better."

—

After everything that happened the big family hug at the end of the day was a much-needed hug for everyone.

Your plan to bring your mama back had worked.

She and Bucky were now retired and living their best life as the new grandparents they are.

You and Peter are more in love than ever and little Natalie can now grow without a worry because she also has her grandmother's love and protection.

All 5 of you were now ready to live the rest of your lives happy and peacefully.

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader

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qvid-pro-qvo · 2 years ago

Note

well okay since you’ve kinda said it-

i feel like i have to ask for some peter and benji and rosie content now. i don’t even care what - baseball or lawyer pete. just give me some of our favorite kiddos 🥺🥰

say less! peter stone x female!reader. baseball au.

“what do you think?” peter calls out, his voice echoing a little in the house.

it’s a new house, a big house. with rooms enough for all four of them. but that’s not where your focus is directed, as you unpack the last of the silverware and look up from the empty box.

and then you start giggling. “oh, peter stone,” you say. “i think you look as handsome as ever.”

peter’s arms are free, which is a minor miracle in itself. it’s the rest of him that’s loaded up. two giggling twins, one in front and one in back, swaddled against him with the carrier that amanda got you. you can just barely see the face of benji behind him, and rosie can’t stop mouthing at his shirt as she blows out raspberries.

the cubs hat on each of them is just the cherry on top.

“we’re gonna go for a walk,” peter says to you, his own hat on his head. “you wanna join us?”

“you have two babies strapped to you,” you tell him. raising a brow as he walks closer, bouncing with each step. “you’re gonna get hot.”

“and so, so sweaty. but it’s a new workout,” he says, reaching for your hand. “two babies required.”

“and if there’s one thing you need it’s a workout,” you laugh, before letting him pull you close.

“absolutely.”

he really does look handsome. he glows with fatherhood, grinning from ear to ear. you lean up to kiss his cheek, before squeezing his hand and kissing the cheeks of the babies you love so, so much.

“give me five minutes,” you tell him, a loud smack of a kiss on benji’s cheeks as he reaches for you. “i’ll go put on shoes.”

“and a hat! we’ve all gotta match, or else you’ll look real left out.”

#red :)#ask the status qvo #peter stone x reader #peter stone #female!reader #law and order: svu #benji and rosie #baseball au

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dracoslittleangel · 3 years ago

Text

THIS IS THE END OF ME

I CAN'T HANDLE THIS MUCH!!!

YOU ALL ARE INVITED TO MY FUNERAL<3

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teamhappyme · 3 years ago

Text

your heart was glass, i dropped it (champagne problems)

peter stone x female!reader

word count: 15,526 (a monstrosity)

warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, rape, and death, brief allusions to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), mentions of anxiety & depression

a/n: hi friends, i’m back from my little break and reduced screen time to post this monstrosity of a piece i’ve been working on for just shy of six months now. this took everything in me to write, and it has my heart forever and ever. i hope you all can find some enjoyment in it and it doesn’t suck too bad - shoutout to red @hurricanejjareau eau for inspiring me to write this, sticking with me as I teased her for months about this, and the gif credit (i didn’t ask this time because i wanted to surprise you with posting this in the middle of the day so i hope you don’t mind tehehehe)

It was the middle of winter, the grey February sky felt like it would never leave, and the endless melting snow piles were keeping your feet frozen for days. That’s what normally went through your head as you walked to the courthouse; but today you were worried about the grey clouds looming over your ADA’s head, and the uncertain future ahead of him.

You were having a hard time keeping up with Liv as she practically ran up the steps of One Hogan Place, splashing through every puddle without another glance. You followed her in and up the two flights of stairs, yelling out that the trial was in part thirteen.

By the time you got to the third floor, the hallway was void of any press that you assumed would be there. The two of you were running late, coming straight from a crime scene. You knew that they would break for lunch soon, but Liv insisted on going to support Barba.

You approached the grand oak doors to the courtroom, Liv trying her best to open them without a sound. The prosecution had a witness on the stand, and a few heads turned to look at who entered.

Not wanting to disrupt the flow of the trial, the two of you stayed standing in the back of the courtroom, listening in as the prosecutor finished with the witness, turning to make his way back to the bench.

That’s when you saw him. And for a split second, you got to look at him without being seen. To take in the presence of the poised attorney without the burning glare of his eyes on you.

But inevitably, those blue eyes met your own, knocking every thought out of your head that wasn’t Peter Stone.

In that moment you were twenty five again, standing in front of the Buckingham Fountain in Chicago, making the hardest decision of your young life. Looking at Peter Stone, down on one knee with a ring box propped open, tears in your eyes as you gave him the answer he never expected to hear: no.

The judge was speaking now, drawing your attention back to the courtroom. You hadn’t even noticed Peter’s back was facing you again.

Court would reconvene after lunch, and you took this as an opportunity to clear your head.

“I’m going to run out and grab us some coffee.” You muttered to Liv before exiting through the oak doors.

It was your turn to run down the stairs now, not giving a second thought to bumped shoulders or slippery marble steps. You needed fresh air, a deep breath, and caffeine to prepare you for what was about to happen.

You never thought he’d come back to New York. The Peter Stone you knew wanted to make a name for himself, separate from his father’s shadow. Chicago was his fresh start; one that you couldn’t be a part of.

New York was your home. You lived in the city your whole life, meeting Peter when you moved a block away from him your freshman year of high school. You stumbled into him on your way to the subway; your school uniforms matched, creating a quick conversation that bled into a beautiful friendship as you continued to spend mornings, then afternoons, and entire weekends together.

By the end of that school year, you considered Peter Stone one of your best friends. The two of you spent weekends riding the subway through the boroughs, accompanying each other to Mets games, and after some time, confiding in each other when life got to be too much to handle on your own.

You felt comfortable around each other, and that friendship laid the groundwork for a relationship between the two of you your senior year of high school.

It happened on a random Tuesday night, walking back from an ice cream run when things shifted. Peter stopped in front of a vendor selling half price flowers, buying the last bouquet of purple tulips they had. He made an offhand comment about how they were your favorite, handing them to you with a shy smile on his face. And before you let the feelings you had for him dissipate, you pushed up on your tiptoes, placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and reached for his hand.

And for eight years, you two continued to be each other’s person. Supporting, uplifting, and loving one another, even from eight hundred miles apart.

But even an eleven year partnership can crumble under the toughest circumstances.

“Detective!” You looked back to the coffee cart, grabbing the drinks for you and Liv before heading back up the marble steps.

Liv came into your line of vision, standing next to a pillar and gesturing flagrantly with her arms. As you stepped closer you saw she was engaged in a conversation with Peter Stone.

More accurately, she was engaged in an argument with Peter Stone.

You stepped up next to her, listening as she defended Barba with a slight shake in her voice.

“I’m talking about a decent man who did a decent thing.” She finished, looking over at you just long enough to take the coffee from your hand. You clocked the pooling tears in her eyes, and the way she swallowed around the lump in her throat. Barba meant more to her than you could ever know.

“Lieutenant, let’s head back inside,” you started, wanting to get her out of this situation without causing anyone any harm. You motioned to the doors of the courthouse, not daring a glance at Peter as she shifted her weight, getting ready to walk away.

But he was saying your name, in a softer voice than he used with Liv, and you slowly met his gaze.

You hadn’t seen him in person in seven years. His hair was a little darker now, dirty blonde roots kept shorter on the sides and styled to perfection; if he was going to be a cocky prosecutor he had to look the part.

A small part of you wanted to smile at him, wrap your arms around him, and make a joke about how long it’s been since the Mets have had a decent starting pitcher. Yeah, a small part of you wishes you could be with Peter, your best friend, one more time in the city.

But the larger part of you knew that wasn’t a possibility anymore; that that relationship was severed seven years ago, along with that girl you used to be.

“Do you two know each other?” Liv asks, breaking you from your spiraling thoughts.

You look at her, then quickly back to Peter, not knowing how to answer her question. You see his jaw clench the slightest bit, before he speaks up again.

“We used to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab a coffee before we reconvene.”

Liv watched him walk down the steps as you kept your gaze on the wall in front of you. You felt her eyes move from him to you, ignoring her as you led the walk back inside.

She was silent as you two waited for the elevator this time, presumably trying to figure out how in the world this situation could have gotten any stranger. She looked over at you once more as the doors closed and you pressed the button for the third floor.

“So,” she started, knowing she was going to ask again. “How do you know Peter Stone?”

You surprised yourself with the scoff that escaped your lips. Your lives had been intertwined for more than a decade, until it all came crashing down. It would be easier to explain how you didn’t know him.

“He proposed to me seven years ago.” You looked over at your Lieutenant after a few more seconds in silence, her eyes widened in shock. “Maybe I’ll enlighten you once this is all over.”

****

Only a few days after Barba was found not guilty, Peter Stone was appointed the new ADA for SVU. You were shocked, not only that he was offered the position, but that he accepted. Working for one of his father’s oldest friends and bosses, in the same building Ben Stone had become a legend, was never what Peter wanted for himself.

But that was the old Peter. You didn’t know this new one.

Liv had pulled you in first when she got the news. After your confession at the courthouse, she wanted to have a conversation with you to make sure you were comfortable with the decision, and that it wouldn’t affect your work.

She didn’t ask for any more information on the subject, which you were grateful for. It was a messy sequence of events that not even you and Peter could fully comprehend at the time.

You did however let the rest of the squad know your history with Stone. After an awkward, and rather uncomfortable experience during your first interrogation together, you knew you had to come clean. It wasn’t fair to their work environment, and you told them you would try to work on the professional nature of the relationship.

It had been two weeks since he came aboard, and he was about to get his hands on his first messy special victims case. And to make matters worse, it was Sonny’s niece.

After getting her disclosure in the station, Peter joined you and Liv outside of interrogation to discuss logistics.

“Another male student spent the night in her room? Don’t you think that’s something she should have mentioned?”

“That doesn’t mean she wasn’t assaulted,” you replied, your tone coming across sharper than you meant it to. He held your stare, his face impossible to read. It always was.

“It’s not uncommon for a victim to leave out part of her story,” Liv interrupted, trying to get to the bottom of this. “She was probably embarrassed. Listen, college age assaults are rarely a clean narrative. There can be alcohol involved, the victim can feel conflicted, there’s self blame. It’s complicated.”

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll follow your lead. You’ll follow up with Mia?”

“Yes. The RA too.” Liv confirmed.

“Listen, we get it. You need a case you can prosecute. SVU isn’t the same as trying homicides. But I believe her, we all believe her. She needs you to be on her side too.” You explained.

“I am. But I also need a case that won’t bounce on a motion to dismiss.” You scoffed while crossing your arms over your chest.

“Understood, Counselor.” Liv ended the conversation, giving a nod to the two of you before going back in to talk to the kid.

Liv left the two of you in the hallway, eyes trained on the one way mirror to avoid looking at one another. You hadn’t directly spoken in the weeks that he’d been settling in here. It wasn’t out of spite, at least not on your end. You were thrown back into each other’s lives without any notice, and you needed a minute to gather your thoughts before talking to the man who was once your entire world.

“Do you need anything else, other than confirmed statements from the RA and Mia?” You asked, turning to look at Peter.

“No. That should be it for the case.” He started, stepping back from the glass. “But I think we would both benefit from having our own conversation about,” He motioned between the two of you, and let out a sigh. “This situation.”

“I agree with you. But, now isn’t the best time.” You looked out into the squadroom, Rollins, Carisi, and Fin seated around the round table, trying to find something else to help Mia. “Sonny, and Mia, really need us to focus on this case.”

He nodded, while sticking his hands in his pockets. “Alright. Then I’ll talk to you later, Detective.”

You watched as he walked out through the squadroom, giving a nod to the rest of the squad at the table. You followed out a few seconds later, heading straight to the breakroom to pour a cup of coffee.

“Everything alright?” Rollins asked, and grabbed her own mug. “Looked a little tense in there.”

“Amanda, why don’t you ask me what you really want to ask me?” You knew Rollins had been itching to get the details about you and Peter since the moment you told her there was history. You understood the intrigue; you’d been dying to ask Liv about her and Barba after you witnessed their charged goodbye from a distance.

“So you and Stone,” she started, and you let out a shallow laugh. “What happened between the two of you?”

You took a minute to formulate a response. It was confusing, the way your relationship with Peter had progressed from teenagers to young adults. He was the only constant in your life, and then, he was gone.

“We’ve been in each other’s lives since we were fourteen.”

“Fourteen? Wow. I don’t think I’ve kept a friendship, never mind a relationship, with anyone for nearly twenty years.”

“Well, we were friends first, for a long time. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always this confident and cocky,” you said with a smile. “We spent a lot of time learning about each other. We built a strong friendship that just naturally formed into partners and a relationship. But we didn’t stay those kids forever; we wanted different things, and we wanted to be selfish. Me a little more so than him.”

“That’s what your twenties are for, though. And if he couldn’t handle that, that’s his loss.”

“It was mine, actually.” Her eyes widened the slightest bit. “I didn’t want to figure things out, I didn’t want to compromise. I was afraid. Peter was sure of us, but I just couldn’t meet him there.”

You’d laid it all out for Amanda, and you watched as she took a few seconds to register the information.

“And you haven’t spoken in…”

“Seven years. Felt like I’d lost a part of myself for a while. Felt like my family lost a part of themselves for a while.”

After eight years together, people were bound to get attached. Your parents, your siblings, they were devastated when you told them. And things never really went back to normal.

“So, what happens now?” She questioned, that familiar smirk settling back on her face. “If my ex showed up out of the blue, no matter how much time has passed, I think some feelings might resurface.”

“I thought you didn’t like him,” you interjected, not wanting to answer her question. Because you weren’t too sure how you were feeling about the reunion yourself.

“I don’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t be nosy about your lives, though.”

You took a sip of your coffee, wincing a little at the bitter punch it packed.

“I’m not really sure,” you started. “Still trying to get used to seeing him walk in here like he owns the place.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll put him in his place for you.” you laughed as she gave your shoulder a squeeze. “And I’ll help you out too, if you need.”

“I know,” she left you in the breakroom, a chance to recover and regroup before focusing on helping another friend.

When everything first happened, you never thought you’d be able to get to a place where you could use a nonchalant tone describing your relationship with Peter. The time you spent together was too important, too consuming to mention in a brief conversation. But with distance, and time, it got easier, narrowing the story down to a few short sentences.

It still hurt, and it would continue to hurt every time you told it. At least now, the pain only lasted for those few short sentences.

****

Two weeks later, once Mia’s trial was over, you found yourself walking down the hall to Peter’s office. It was a grueling trial for everyone involved, especially Carisi. You knew the guilt he carried for lying, and causing his niece more pain, but she got justice. And you would remind him of that for as long as he needed.

You expected to see Carmen at her desk as you rounded the corner, but instead you were greeted with an empty desk. The blinds were drawn in the office, but you could see an orange light peeking through the wooden slats.

You took a breath, working up the courage to knock. Things were still tense between him and the squad, but you were hoping that after this case, after he got justice for Mia, things could start to settle.

You gave three strong knocks, and got a ‘come in’ in response. When you opened the door, you were met with a shirtless Peter Stone, his toned torso on full display.

That’s certainly something you haven’t seen in a while.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered out and quickly turned around, hoping your cheeks weren’t as red as

they felt.

“It’s fine, I told you to come in.” You locked your eyes on the door until he told you he was decent. When you turned back around, you took in his casual appearance; a sweater and jeans replaced the sharp suit he had on earlier in the day. “Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to thank you for not ripping Carisi’s head off after what happened when he testified. He really cares about his family, and sometimes it can get messy.”

“Well, what good would he be to anyone without a head.” He quipped, a small smile etched on his face. You forgot how infectious his grin could be, as you felt your own lips turn into a smile.

Your eyes followed Peter around his office, as he put away files, fastened his watch back on his wrist, and pushed his chair in behind his desk. He was already settled in here, comfortable in this space and his job. One that you were tangled into.

“Is there something else on your mind?” He asked, as you continued to dig your toe into the carpet, your anxious ticks giving you away.

“I figured we could finally talk about this working together situation,” you started, suddenly feeling extremely nervous in front of him. “Unless you have somewhere to be.”

“No, now’s a good time.” He motioned for you to take a seat at the round table, and he joined you on your right.

For the first time in your life, you felt unsteady around Peter Stone. There was a time when he was the only person you wanted to talk to, the only person you felt truly yourself around. But now, you didn’t know the man sitting three feet away from you.

All because you said no.

“I want you to know that I didn’t intend on coming back to New York to take this job. If I knew you were here before Jack asked me to take Barba’s case, I wouldn’t have accepted.”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about me when deciding to accept a job,” you said.

“I know. But, I want you to know that I didn’t come back home to seek you out, or open up what happened in the past. I just came home to bury my father, settle his things, and get back to Chicago.”

You went to Ben’s funeral, stood at the back of the church and listened as Jack McCoy delivered a touching eulogy. You didn’t even know Peter was there until Rafael told you he spotted him in the second pew.

You had a front row seat to the complicated relationship between father and son, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Peter didn’t show.

“I’m sorry about Ben’s passing, Peter. I sent flowers for the last address I had for you, but clearly, you never got them.” He let out a little laugh. “I would’ve told you so at the funeral, but I didn’t know if you were there.”

“I didn’t know you were there either. I’m surprised that you went, you didn’t have to go.”

“Of course I went,” you started, your voice steadier now. “It doesn’t matter what happened between us, he was a decent man. And he,” you paused.

‘He gave me you,’ is what you wanted to say.

“He was your father.”

You opened the door to the past now, and both of you realized it. But the only way you were going to get through this awkward stage was talking about it.

“I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us. I want us to be able to coexist, at least in a professional capacity, so that we don’t need a buffer every time we’re working on a case together. Now, with that being said,” he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You should probably use the quiet of my office right now to get out any anger you have towards me.”

“Peter, I’m not angry with you. At least not for the reasons you think. I am mad that you prosecuted one of my friends and colleagues, but I understand why you did it. If anyone should be frustrated it’s you.” he looked over at you, waiting for you to continue. “I left you standing in the middle of Chicago without so much as a goodbye. You deserved an explanation, but I acted like a coward.”

“You weren’t a coward.” He said, and let out a sigh. “We were just kids back then. We had no idea what we were doing. You aren’t the only one to blame for the way things ended.”

“But I’m the one who turned down the man on one knee.”

You saw the twitch in his jaw as he settled against the back of his chair. The two of you never spoke about the proposal after it happened. You really did leave Peter standing in front of Lake Michigan, repeatedly telling him you couldn’t say yes, until you just walked away. You turned your back on the best person you ever knew, because you were afraid.

You’ve rationalized your decision to say no so many times; you were too young, you were starting your careers in different cities, and you felt like the two of you were in completely different headspaces. And in the moment where you should’ve felt the closest to him, you felt like you were completely alone.

“I wish I hadn’t walked away like that.” you started, meeting his gaze. “You were my best friend, Peter. Eleven years we knew each other, and I turned my back on you like that.” you snapped your fingers, and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “Even though our relationship ended that day, our friendship didn’t have to. And I’m sorry that I took that away from you.”

Neither of you moved for a few seconds; It’s not everyday you have a conversation about your almost proposal with your ex. So you just watched him, with a hazy gaze, and waited for him to acknowledge what you said.

“But I’ll make you the same offer; you can capitalize on the privacy and get your anger out on me for leaving right now.”

“I’m not mad at you. I was upset, and confused for a few months, but I worked through it.” He ran a hand through his slightly fussed hair as he collected his thoughts. “I accepted why you left the way that you did. But more than anything, I missed my friend. And now, I wish we didn’t feel like strangers around each other.”

“Me either.”

Before either of you could break another silence, the office phone started to ring. Carmen wasn’t here to intercept the call, going directly to the source.

“Do you need to get that?” You asked, as he made no movement to stand up from his seat.

“They’ll leave a message if it’s important. I’m technically off the clock,” he referenced his casual clothing, and you smiled in return.

“I know that we’ve been through a lot together, and apart, but if we’re going to be working together, and existing in the same city, I would like to try to be friends again.” You offered up.

“I don’t think we ever stopped being friends. We know too much about each other.”

“Like how you broke your wrist while riding down the handrail in the subway,” you rattled off, your heart racing the slightest bit after falling back into step with him.

But then you heard him laugh. Not as easy and carefree as it used to be, but it was still Peter.

“Hey, at least I didn’t trip over my own two feet and sprain an ankle in a soccer game,”

“I was tripped!” You exclaimed, stubborn and defensive as ever. “The only yellow card I ever got. That ref deserved my outburst, cause that girl tripped me.”

“Whatever you say,” he said in a teasing tone, and you lightly shoved his shoulder.

“You know I’m right,” you murmured back, catching the smallest smile on his face.

It felt… okay again between the two of you. Nothing was going to change overnight, or even after one conversation, but it was a start. It was fixing the foundation to an old friendship.

****

Over the course of the next two months, Peter started to acclimate to working for the special victims unit. Sonny began gravitating towards him, the new ADA wasn’t grilling him about being a wanna-be lawyer like Barba used to. Fin and Liv warmed up to him little by little as well, seeing him earn his stripes in action. Rollins, on the other hand, still wasn’t ready to support him one hundred percent yet. And selfishly, you were glad she didn’t roll over. He needed to continue to prove himself if he’s going to make a difference here.

The two of you were getting along as well as most casual coworkers do. You talked through the cases, sat in on trial preps, and ran some interrogations together. There weren’t any more uncomfortable encounters or frustrated conversations. All the personal stuff was squared away, so you could focus on the important tasks at hand.

He continued to let Liv guide him through cases, reminding him that it’s about the victims more than it is the defendant, and that we’re not going to win them all.

But there were still moments, like this trafficking case, that Peter refused to bend his black or white perception of the law for.

“You’re serious.” He deadpanned, not amused by this meeting.

You and Amanda had found a discrepancy in Miguel Lopez’s testimony. He admitted to burning Lourdes in the apartment, but she never told him to say that. It was something his guilty conscience admitted to, giving too much of the truth away.

“Yes, I’m serious.” Liv responded.

Peter and Liv had been at each other’s throats throughout the investigation. Liv, and everyone in the squad, believed Lourdes was raped by Miguel. With all of your combined years in SVU, you knew when a victim was lying and telling the truth. Peter, keeping the law close to his chest, couldn’t accept the allegations without any evidence.

“It won’t hold up in court.” He muttered back, as you gripped the edges of the table even tighter, knowing Liv wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Miguel Lopez raped and tortured Lourdes. She’s not mistaken. His confession to her, his confession to me, was real.”

“It’s not on tape.”

“I was there. I heard it!” Liv exclaimed. “This is my word!”

“You are not thinking clearly,”

“Peter.” you interjected, voice firm, and you caught his gaze for a second. But he continued.

“You are choosing to believe what you want to believe.”

“Peter!” It was your turn to shout, everyone growing silent as you walked past him, a “let’s go,” leaving your lips as you led the way to interrogation one.

You heard his feet scuffing the linoleum floor the entire walk, like a child who didn’t get the toy they wanted at the store. Once the two of you were in there, you shut the door and prepared to lay into him.

“What is the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with me? All of you are convinced that Lourdes was trafficked and raped by Miguel Lopez, yet there is absolutely no physical evidence that proves your claim.”

“You don’t believe Liv? You don’t believe that what she witnessed for four hours wasn’t true?” You questioned, not willing to believe that Peter saw through this girl.

“I think something did happen to her,” he started. “But we don’t know if it was Miguel. And even if it was, that doesn’t entitle her to seek revenge.”

“But it does entitle her to claim what was once hers.” You crossed your arms over your chest, willing yourself to hold your ground against him. “And if revenge is part of that, then… then so be it.”

You saw the twitch in his jaw, and the way his eyes fell the slightest bit.

“You don’t believe that.” He said, his tone soft, and filled with disbelief. He didn’t know the woman standing in front of him anymore.

“I do.” He shook his head, not willing to believe it. “Peter, you’ve only been here a few months. This has been my reality for five years. Listening to hundreds of victims tell their stories, their fears, how their lives were changed forever because of one awful moment. I’ve watched victims take the stand and look their abuser in the eye, and I’ve watched victims cower away in absolute terror. And on rare occasions, I’ve seen them take matters into their own hands. And I support whatever they need to do in order to take back their lives, even what Lourdes did to Miguel.”

“And the man that died? The man she killed along the way?” His voice was so cold, so completely detached from the complex situation in front of him.

“I don’t support blind rage and murder, if that’s what you’re asking me. That man shouldn’t have died at Lourdes’ hand. But he was involved in trafficking, raping, and torturing women. So, I’d say justice was served in the end. And before you say it’s a jury’s job to bring justice, look me in the eye and tell me that you’d rather have them both go free than have been killed in a fit of justified rage.” He bowed his head, knowing he didn’t want them to go free, knowing that you would win this discussion. “The law isn’t black and white, as much as you wish it could be. It’s complicated, and unfair, and most of the time, doesn’t do as much as we want it to. So, I’m going to take a win when I can.”

He nodded, but before he could respond, his phone started to ring. He greeted Fin on the other end of the line, and you watched his jaw tense right back up. His hand was curled into a fist, slowly beginning to flex it open and shut. His tells hadn’t changed in ten years.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, as he ended the call. He walked across the room and opened the door, pausing in the doorway for a second.

“They took Pam.”

The next thirty minutes were a whirlwind. You and Amanda tried to track any and every member from the cartel to New York and the facility Pam was staying at while Liv and Peter tracked down Miguel and brought him in for interrogation. They only took fifteen minutes to break him, and the four of you were off to the warehouse they were keeping Pam.

You and Rollins jumped in the backseat, Peter riding shotgun as Liv gunned it on the highway. Peter was silent the entire ride, but sat alert with his back straight, hand clutching the grab handle for dear life.

When you finally got there Fin, Carisi, and a swarm of patrol cars were waiting for you. Liv threw a vest to Peter, quickly strapping himself in before running through the crowd of people.

You entered the warehouse in single file, finding the trafficked girls locked up in a cage. After letting them go and directing them out with a SWAT member, you resumed running to the action.

Liv and Sonny led the way with Peter behind their backs, as you, Fin and Amanda came close behind. You congregated behind the SWAT shields, and that’s when you finally caught a glimpse of Pam.

The last time you saw Pam was about four years ago. She was at a facility in the city, and you were still trying to rationalize the decision you made three years prior. Ever since you met Pam, you loved spending time with her. She joked with Peter when you guys were young, and she often ganged up on him with you. Even when she was first put in a facility, and the schizophrenia got worse, she still put a smile on your face.

Years had gone by, but she looked the same; long strawberry blonde hair, gaping eyes, and a youthful face. One that was now filled with horror as Diego held a rifle to her head.

You heard the man in question shouting about guns, and Liv bickering with ESU to let her take control. But all that focus left you as Peter took a step forward, hands raised in the air.

You moved to step with him, but Sonny placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you back. The five of you had created a second line of defense now, waiting to see how this was going to play out.

“Peter!” Pam exclaimed, as he finally stepped out in front of the shields. He was vulnerable, even with a vest, and you tried again to take a step towards him. But Sonny’s grip was firm on your shoulder, and you yielded to the reminder.

“Peter,” she whimpered out, losing hope, and giving in to the fear.

There was more shouting, more demands being made, but your eyes were glued on the two siblings in front of you.

All of a sudden, Diego loosened his grip on Pam, and she started walking towards you.

“Peter!” She called out, a quarter of the way there, when you saw Diego raise the rifle. Before you could even react, he opened fire on Pam, knocking her to the ground.

Everyone moved in an instant, dozens of rounds being fired, your ears already ringing from the noise. It lasted thirty seconds before Diego slumped into the front seat of his jeep, bullet wounds covering his body.

Your heart was racing as you lowered your gun, checking to make sure you were all okay.

But then you saw Peter, hovering over Pam’s bloody body, begging her to stay alive. All you could hear were her whimpers, struggling to stay alive, and the strain in Peter’s voice as he yelled for a medic.

You covered your mouth and turned away from the scene in front of you, as Liv walked over to Peter, laying a hand on his shoulder.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and tried your hardest to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. But you felt Sonny’s hand find your shoulder again, gently turning you around, so you could let your tears fall in hiding.

The following night, you went down to One Hogan Place to check in on Peter.

He rode back to the city with Liv yesterday, but none of you have seen or heard from him since. On your way out of the precinct tonight, you called Carmen to see if he was in. She said he let her go at lunch, but he didn’t show any signs of leaving with her.

As you approached his door, his shades were drawn, but you could see the flicker of a light on. You didn’t bother knocking before you entered, knowing you would go in no matter the answer.

The door swung open to his office, and you saw Peter Stone sitting on the couch, bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, and his head in his hands.

You tried to shut the door quietly, but the old office doors let out a high squeak, getting Peter to raise his head. You took a breath as you looked over his appearance: his eyes were red, his face looking worn from the sleep you’re sure he didn’t get.

But neither of you say anything, not knowing how to approach this conversation.

As coworkers. As exes. As friends.

So you start simple. You start with the good.

“The feds rounded up all of Miguel’s associates on both sides of the border.”

“That’s good.” He nodded, his grip on the whiskey glass loosening.

But he can’t look back up at you. He stares at the glass in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He’s swallowing his emotions, you think to yourself. He’s exerting every ounce of physical strength he has to keep himself grounded and from falling apart. Some things never change.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” You choke out, trying not to break in front of him. Even with seven years spent apart, you still feel everything he does. You still feel like your lives are tied together.

“All I can remember right now, is when I was nine, playing stick ball with my buddies in the schoolyard, Pam showed up with a bloody lip.” He let out a sigh and swallowed around the lump in his throat. “She said Billy Collier pushed her down the stairs, and I beat the living hell out of him.”

“He always was an asshole,” you added, involuntarily. You quickly apologized, but noticed the smallest shadow of a smile across his face. But it didn’t last, as you watched his fingers circle the rim of his glass, and he locked his eyes on the table once more.

“I didn’t even hesitate to absolutely destroy the kid that hurt my sister. And now,” he shook his head. “She had a gun pointed at her head, and I just stood there and watched.”

“If you had tried anything, he would’ve killed you too. You talked to her, Peter. You tried to calm her down, to let her know you were there for her.”

He nodded, brushing his hand down his face. He looked exhausted.

“You don’t have to be here, you don’t have to stay.” He said, which in turn only made you move across the room and sit down next to him.

“I’m not going anywhere. Pam was family to me, you were family to me,” you felt a tear escape as you assured him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Without tearing his gaze from that spot on the table, he reached over with his right hand. You grabbed it without hesitation, as he twined your fingers together, and finally let out a breath.

“There was nothing you could have done, Peter.” He nodded while slowly lifting his head.

“The last thing,” his voice was shaky, and you just wanted him to let go. “The last thing she said was Peter. She hasn’t recognized me in years, and the moment she’s about to die,”

With your free hand, you pulled him into you, letting him cry onto your shoulder for as long as he needed to. You let go of his hand so you could run your fingers through his hair, in an attempt to comfort him. To let him know that he didn’t have to shoulder these emotions and this pain alone.

Without thinking, you pressed a kiss to the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. It was the one thing that could get him to calm down, and breathe when you were together. It wasn’t your place anymore, to be comforting and kissing a man that wasn’t yours.

But he needed the familiarity. He needed to be held by someone who knew him, and cared for him, and saw him the same way his family did. He needed you.

So he held on tighter after that, adjusting himself so that his head was resting against your own. He listened to your heartbeat, sporadic at first, but he listened for seconds, minutes, hours. He doesn’t know how long. All he knows is that eventually, his heartbeat slowed down, and matched the rhythm of your own.

****

“Here are your coffees, Detective.”

“Thank you, have a good one.” You left a dollar in the tip jar before grabbing the coffees, smiling at the barista before walking out of the cafe.

Carisi was waiting for you out on the sidewalk, thanking you as you handed him his second dose of caffeine for the day.

“You’re welcome.” You started the walk back to the precinct, taking advantage of the warm September weather before the air turned brisk. “Now, why did you rush me out of the precinct twenty minutes ago as soon as Stone stepped in for interrogation?”

Sonny let out a sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. Three years spent partnered together and working across a desk from one another, you got to know each other well.

“Have you talked to Stone at all about Pam?” he started, glancing over at you to make sure it was okay to continue. “I mean, I know you’ve spoken about work, and cases, but you guys were close once, and I wanted to make sure he’s checking in with someone who can really understand him.”

It’s been two months since Pam died, and Peter hasn’t talked to you about it since that night in his office. You sat with him for almost two hours, holding onto each other until he felt strong enough to let go.

You tried to bring it up since then, but you were always shut down with a poor excuse. He needed to prep for a trial, he was meeting with Jack McCoy, or he was just too tired to talk about it today. Whatever the excuse was, you didn’t push him. He would come to you if he wanted your help.

“No, I haven’t. But I’m not entirely sure I would be his first choice as a confidant.” he nodded. But Carisi’s inquiries only sparked your curiosity. “Why, is there something I should know?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, debating if he should tell you what Peter’s been up to these past few months.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious, but ever since everything happened, he’s been calling me to go out for a drink almost every night. At first, I joined him every time he asked. I knew he needed a friend, and I wanted to support him in any way I could. But after a few weeks, the calls didn’t subside, and neither did the drinks. Before everything happened, and I would meet him at Forlini’s, it would be strictly beer before a trial. Now he goes straight for the 60 proof whiskey, averaging half a bottle a night.”

“Still? Maybe he’s tapered off,”

“No, I still check in on him, once or twice a week. Same routine. But it was a few weeks ago, God I probably shouldn’t even tell you this,” He started rambling, but you tugged on his arm to get him to stop.

“Just spit it out, Carisi.”

“You and Rollins were at Rikers talking Caputo into testifying, but that was the first day of the trial. We were ten minutes out from opening testimonies and no one had seen or heard from him. I stopped by his apartment, flashed the badge to get up since he wasn’t answering any of our calls, and I was met with a pretty drained Peter Stone at the door. He begged me to wait in the lobby, said he just needed a few minutes for the ibuprofen to kick in. As he shut the door on me, I saw two other women in the apartment with him.”

Your movements stalled for a second, completely forgetting you were in the middle of a sidewalk in New York City.

“Women? As in, plural?” You asked, too caught up on that piece of information to care if you came off as the nosy ex.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but it seems out of his behavior.” He said with a sheepish look on his face.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, seeing as it’s been seven years since he’s shared anything with me. You seem to be the closest friend he has, so if you think that’s out of behavior for him, then I trust you.”

“It is.” You nodded, and followed along as Carisi started walking again. “I’m just worried about him. And I know you are too, even if things are different between the two of you now.”

“I am. Thank you, Sonny. You’re a good friend, to both of us.”

The short walk back to the precinct was quiet after that, as you tried to plan what you would say to Peter once you got the chance.

When the two of you got back, the squadroom was empty, Rollins and Liv watching the interrogation in her office.

“Did you guys pick someone up for the Ferncroft kidnapping?” Sonny asked as the two of you settled in with the others. Fin was leading the interrogation, Peter sitting patiently across from the suspect.

“Yeah, this is Monica Strauss. She nannied for the family up until a few months ago, and we found her brother’s DNA on site. Trying to see if she will give us anything on him.”

“Do you think she did it?” You asked, watching as Peter stood up from his seat.

“No, I think she was just a stepping stone to get to the Ferncroft’s.” Liv added. You watched for the next few minutes as Fin and Peter danced around the table, pressing into Monica.

Until something finally cracked.

Peter slammed his hands down on the table, causing Monica, and most of you on this side of the glass to flinch.

“Your brother’s DNA is all over that apartment! If you want to protect him, if you want to be a half decent sibling to him, you will tell us where he is right now. If you don’t, I’ll charge him with kidnapping, and be sure to let him know you wouldn’t do anything to help him.”

“Get him out of there,” you said at the same time Liv started knocking on the glass. You watched as Fin exited first, Peter still leaning on the table.

“How does it feel, knowing you were so close to saving your brother, but couldn’t?”

Liv banged on the glass harder after his admission, waiting for him at the door connecting the two rooms.

“I had her. She was gonna give him up.”

“You’re not a detective, Counselor. You crossed a line in there.” Liv said as he crossed his arms over his chest, resembling an upset child.

“Because all of you play by the rules 24/7, right?”

You looked over at Liv, a mix of disgust and empathy covering her face. You were ready for her to rip him a new one, right in front of the whole squad. Instead, her eyes met your own, asking you for any help in this situation; one that was clearly more than just this case.

“Give us the room?” You asked, and your Lieutenant nodded, leading the charge out of her office as her comrades followed behind her.

As the door closed to her office, you caught the scoff that left Peter’s mouth.

“Are you going to give me a lecture on interrogation etiquette now? Explain to me how things work in SVU, because I’m so incapable of doing anything right?”

“No, that’s not my job.” You watched as he leaned against the mirror. You could see Monica being taken back into holding by Fin. “How are you holding up, Peter?”

He tucked his chin to his chest, not bothering to hide the morose laugh he let out. “I’m fine. There’s nothing to be held up on. Pam’s dead, I’m alive. No point in dwelling on the past.”

“So an outburst about sibling obligation has nothing to do with Pam? Just a coincidence?”

“There’s nothing deeper to unpack here. My sister died. I buried her, I settled her affairs, and I came back to work. Nothing spectacular for you to try and fix.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Peter.”

He pushed off the wall, walking toward you now. “What, what is this act you're pulling on me now? All this pity, this misplaced guilt and grief, are you projecting it on me?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what, some of us are genuinely worried about you. You watched your sister get shot to death in front of your eyes, so God forbid we try and check in on you once in a while.”

“And I told you I was fine.”

“And your version of fine is drinking half a bottle of whiskey then bringing home some girls for a night you can’t even remember seven nights a week?”

The sentence spilled out of you before you even realized what you were saying. But now it was out there, lingering in the space between the two of you, waiting for one of you to pick it back up.

It was your turn to cross your arms now, on the defensive, as you waited for him to respond.

“Carisi has a big mouth I see.” He muttered out, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“He was worried about you. I’m worried about you. That’s not you, Peter.”

“How do you know who I am anymore? You left the old me seven years ago.”

You took half a step back, as if the words physically toppled over you.

“I thought we talked through this,” your voice was quieter now, and you felt infinitely smaller. The conversation included you now. “You said you understood why I had to leave.”

“And you believed me?” He exasperated. “I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you, and you just walked away like we were nothing.” He ran a frustrated hand over his face before continuing. “So yeah, this is me now. I go to bars, I bring home women I don’t know, and do the same thing all over again the next day. And when Pam died, and you said that we were like family, things got worse. Or really, this just showed me who I really am.”

“You’re going to blame me for turning down your proposal for the shitty life you’re living now?” You were over being sympathetic now. “Did you ever stop to think why I said no? Why I walked away from you after eleven years by your side?”

“I don’t want to get into this,” he started, trying to change the subject.

“No, you opened the door, let’s have it out.” You gestured into the room, no one else surrounding you. “I walked away from you, and you're still pissed off about it.”

“You left me standing in the middle of Chicago, looking like a fucking idiot. Of course I’m still pissed about it!”

“You’re mad about me ending it, or about your reputation, Peter?” You shook your head. “I spent the last three years of our relationship compromising for you. You wanted to give baseball a real shot, and I supported you, flying out whenever I could to go see your games. And when you got hurt and had to turn in your uniform, I supported your decision to stay in Chicago and go to law school. And again, I flew out whenever you needed me to reassure you that you could do this. I was constantly bending over backwards just to please you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he asked, his voice matching your level. “You, you told me you wanted to get married. You told me you wanted us to move back to New York, live in a brownstone and have a family. You told me you wanted me.”

You felt tears starting to form in your eyes, knowing how much you broke him. How much pain and doubt you put him through by cutting him off that day in Chicago.

“I did want you, Peter. But I was scared. You were Peter Stone, you were making a name for yourself in Chicago. Everywhere we went, people knew who you were. I was afraid that one day, you’d look at me, and wonder why the hell you stayed with me for so long when you could’ve had everything and more in Chicago. I was afraid that I was going to lose myself, trying to compete with people in a brand new city. I’d already sacrificed so much for you, hid so many of my fears, my accomplishments, my feelings from you those last few years. And when you got down on one knee, in the middle of the city, I just couldn’t say yes. I couldn’t picture you spending the rest of your life with me.”

He shook his head, quickly bringing his hand up to swipe away a tear that fell.

“I would have given all of that up for you. I would have done anything for you to believe that.” He picked up his briefcase, letting you know he was done with this conversation.

“Where are you going? We can’t just leave the conversation like this,” you said, your tone coming off desperate as you watched him open the door.

“I have to prep a witness. Besides, I��ve waited seven years for this conversation, I think I can wait a little longer.”

“Peter, don’t-” but your sentence was cut off by the slamming of Liv’s door behind him.

You leaned on the back of the chair, dipping your head as you repressed the sobs creeping up your throat.

You spent the past seven years rationalizing that decision, trying to make yourself believe that everything was okay between the two of you. But you broke both of your hearts that day, and you did it all over again after this conversation.

“Hey, Liv needs us to go check up on a witness. I’ll meet you by the car?” Sonny asked, poking his head into the room.

You straightened, keeping your back turned to him. You sniffled quietly and gently wiped at your eyes. “Yeah I’ll meet you down there in five. Just gonna stop in the bathroom.”

“Okay.” He knocked twice on the door as he left, and you took a moment to take a deep breath.

This conversation was far from over.

****

After a few hours of tracking down a witness and convincing them to testify, the sun was already starting to set in the city. Carisi was dying to grab dinner, but you had other plans for your evening.

He pulled up in front of One Hogan, the normally packed stairs pretty empty after six o’clock.

“Are you sure he’s even here? He’s had a pretty light case load this week, maybe he called it an early night to catch up on some rest.”

“I know he’s here, Sonny.”

“Is this about what happened earlier?” You looked over at him, his blue eyes widening in sympathy for you. “The walls aren’t soundproof, and you guys weren’t exactly whispering.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t really planning for an argument when I decided to talk to him.”

He nodded, a small smile creeping across his face. “Fair enough.”

“Thanks for dropping me off. I’ll see you in the morning.” You gently closed the car door, tapping twice on the window before making your way up the courthouse steps.

You took the elevator up to the eighth floor, wasting no time once you stepped onto the old grey carpet of the DA’s office. You hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, but you didn’t need to. You were still reeling from the argument just a few hours earlier, and you were done tiptoeing around the situation.

As you turned down the hallway, you caught Carmen’s eye at the copy machine.

“Is he in his office?”

“Yes,” She started, as you walked past her and toward his office door. “But Detective, he asked not to be disturbed by any calls or visitors.”

You could see him through the wooden slats trying to cover the windows, reviewing paperwork at his desk.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not just any visitor,” you said before opening his door, no knock given for a warning. He looked up from his papers, his face annoyingly stoic upon your entrance.

“You can’t just blame me for ruining your life then walk out of the precinct like a goddamn coward.”

“Mr. Stone,” Carmen came in after you, interrupting any Momentum you were trying to create. “I’m sorry, I tried to tell her you weren’t available.”

“It’s okay, Carmen. We’re fine, thank you.” She nodded, exiting the office as quick as she entered, slowly closing the door behind her. He looked back at you. “You were saying?”

“Don’t act all smug and innocent now that we’re on your territory.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? You want me to apologize? Fine, I’m sorry that you were so miserable in our relationship that you couldn’t tell me about it,”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” You exclaimed while running a frustrated hand through your hair. He let out a sigh, gathering himself for a few seconds, before moving to lean against the front of his desk.

He crossed his arms over his chest, still defensive, as you got ready to speak again.

“I have relived that moment in front of Lake Michigan over, and over, and over again in my head. I’ve gone through every scenario, trying to find the one where I say yes without either one of us feeling like we compromised a part of ourselves to make it work, but there isn’t one. And that truth hurts me just as much as it hurts you.

“I should’ve talked to you about how I was feeling,” you admitted. “When you told me you were going to give baseball a real shot, I was terrified that I would lose you. You were in a new city, living your dream, with guys your age and reputations that could get you anything you ever wanted. I trusted you, I don’t want you to doubt that, but I just couldn’t help but think you would leave me for it. For more independence, more freedom. And every time I thought about telling you, everytime I thought about asking for reassurance, I would see you play. And you belonged on the mound. You would find me after every game, with a smile that was larger than life plastered on your face, and I would forget all about it. I saw how happy you were, and that made it all worth it for me.

“But then you got hurt, you turned the jersey in, and went back out there for law school. And again, I was terrified that you were going to leave me. I was a rookie cop in Brooklyn, working shitty hours almost a thousand miles away. I never doubted that you would become a great lawyer, but your ambition scared me. Because I didn’t know what I wanted other than you. I didn’t need anything else except you.

“I did want to marry you. I wanted to live in a brownstone with you, start a family, all of it. That wasn’t a lie. But doubt and insecurity are powerful and all consuming. And I quickly realized, if I was unhappy with myself now, how was I going to feel about myself in ten years? Twenty, even? I needed to grow without you, I needed to figure out what I wanted as an individual before I could be with you.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t exactly articulate that feeling to you when you were down on one knee. Hell, I couldn’t even articulate the feeling for myself until months after the fact. I started going to therapy, believe it or not.”

You looked over at Peter, not being able to hold eye contact through your explanation for longer than five seconds. But his gaze was unwavering, and a small nod from him let you know it was okay to continue.

“A lot of that inadequacy I felt with you turned into misplaced anger, usually toward you, because you didn’t try to help me. Which took a lot of sessions for me to understand that you weren’t being a narcissist, you just didn’t know.” He let out a small laugh, making you feel a little better about the situation. “There was a lot of stuff that I had to work through on my own, that I should’ve been working on since I was younger, but I had a pretty good friend that kept me happy and loved me long enough for me to ignore it.”

“Yeah, well he had a lot of shit to work through on his own, too.” You smiled, walking over to join him in leaning against his desk. He uncrossed his arms, now lightly gripping the edge of his desk. “I’m sorry for being petty and talking over you. I’ve been told I’m kind of an asshole outside of the courtroom.”

“Who told you that, Liv or Rollins?”

“Both of them.” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh. They were going to make sure he knew his place in the squad.

The anger you walked in here with quickly dissipated once you got him to listen to you. That was something that never changed, nearly two decades knowing him and he still remained obstinate as ever.

After a few seconds in silence, you wondered if this is what closure felt like. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest, sitting there ever since you saw Peter prosecuting Barba. You felt the grief of your relationship finally lighten up, letting you think about your time together without the failed proposal looming over your head.

“Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” you asked, all the confidence you strode in here with had left your voice, now sounding like a shy little girl. “We were outside of the drug store on the corner of our block. It was almost midnight, I have no idea why we went there-”

“We were looking for rainbow sprinkles,” he interrupted. You looked over at him, shocked that he would remember such a small detail. “We were making ice cream sundaes, and we only had chocolate jimmies at my house. You were insistent on having rainbow sprinkles on top of your sundae, so we ran down the street before the store closed. We got the last tub, and when we walked out of there, you had the biggest smile on your face. You were standing under a monstrosity of a streetlight, the yellow light showcasing your fuzzy pajama pants and slippers, and I thought you were beautiful. So I kissed you, and prayed that you felt the same way, even though I had a pretty good feeling that kiss on the cheek you gave me a few days before meant you did.”

He looked over at you once he was done, not even trying to hide the tears that had so clearly formed in your eyes. You forgot about this feeling with Peter. You missed this feeling with Peter.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you.” Your voice only wavered the slightest bit.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

A single tear traced your cheek, giving you a chance to look away from him. A few more fell as you wiped them away, giving you a few seconds to spin the conversation to keep you from crying any more.

“I know you didn’t want to talk about it earlier, and I’m not going to force you to now, but I want you to know I’m here for you. What happened to Pam, it’s not a normal grieving process. I know you said you’ve changed, and you can deal with it any way you want. But I’m the only one left that knew her the way you did. And maybe talking about it, and remembering how much you loved each other could help.”

He nodded, his jaw clenching once again to remain neutral.

“Maybe,” That was a start.

You sat there for another minute, enjoying the amicable silence as long as you could before you had to go.

“I should probably head out. If I leave now, I can probably catch Rollins and Carisi before they’ve ordered anything for dinner.” Pushing off his desk, you grabbed your sweater and phone that you must have thrown onto the chair in your fit of rage. You didn’t remember any of that. “Thank you for listening. I’m glad we could talk through everything, finally.”

“Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Tomorrow, bright and early.”

You made your way to the door, but pulled your hand off the handle when you heard your name.

“Rollins and Carisi,” Peter started. “Are they together?”

You smiled. “They should be. They’re both a little too blind to see though. Maybe you could work on Carisi during your weekly drinks together.”

Teasing each other like you didn’t just talk through your seven year relationship. I guess closure really can work.

He gave you a smirk in return. “Maybe.”

****

“Carisi, I’m only coming to this stupid thing because you said you’d buy me a real dinner afterward.” You muttered out as you held the hem of your dress in your hand and started walking up the grand stairs.

“Listen, we just gotta stay for an hour, two tops, so I can talk to some of the Brooklyn DAs. Then I promise I’ll buy you a milkshake and fries.” He extended his left arm out to you, and linked them together.

“What about a burger?”

“Your dinner order is going to cost more than these tickets,” he said and you let out a laugh.

“Well this was a perfect opportunity to ask Rollins out on a date, and you whiffed. So, now you pay the price.”

You didn’t miss the way his cheeks turned rosy red as you made it to the entrance of the gala.

“For your information, I was going to ask her. Then she mentioned it was Jesse’s dance recital, and I couldn’t ask after that. Besides, our first date shouldn’t be a work event.”

The two of you went through the metal detectors, Carisi showing your tickets before entering the main ballroom.

You looked over at him in his gray tux, hair perfectly styled, and the comforting smile resting on his face that just made him Sonny Carisi. And you were happy he was finally going to take control of his life.

“She’s going to say yes,” you started as he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing tray. “No matter when you ask her, no matter the occasion, she’s going to say yes to you.”

“I hope so.” He said with a shy smile, as he led the way to the first suits of the night.

When you were little, you always dreamt of going to an event like this. Dressing up in a fancy gown, heels so high they made your feet scream, hair and make up done like you were a movie star, and dancing and laughing the night away.

The Gala for the District Attorneys of the Five Boroughs was not what you dreamt of. You had the pretty dress from Nordstrom Rack, little block heels from TjMaxx, and your normal makeup routine matched with a bolder lip and simple hair. There was no one to impress here; the DAs office was a place you tried to steer clear of.

You’d been here an hour, and Carisi had already introduced you to six different DAs from the Brooklyn office. He was a natural with them all, anyone that got a chance to talk to Sonny Carisi always loved him. They talked about recent SVU cases, upcoming Brooklyn cases, and some new Supreme Court rulings. Honestly, the conversations were what you imagined law school lectures sounded like.

After the third introduction, you started to zone out after learning their names. You listened for keywords, made appropriate gestures to seem like you were listening intently, and chimed in if Carisi prompted you to. Most of the time, you sipped your champagne, scanned the room every few minutes, and rolled your sore ankles for some relief.

You tuned back into this conversation as Carisi started his farewells, adding a goodbye and nice to meet you before he led the way to a free hightop to lean against.

“I don’t know how you can have the same conversations with these people that lack so much personality. I feel like my brain is going to rot in here.”

“Well if I’m going to break into any of the DAs offices, I need to do some ass kissing.”

It had been two years since he passed the Bar exam, but he gave no intentions of moving outside of the squadroom to the courtroom until now. Realistically, you knew this day was coming. But even two years later, you still weren’t ready for the change.

“You’re really going through with this?”

“Well I can’t just sit on law school loans and a degree and not use it,” he started, his face slowly changing after looking at you. “What’s going on in that tired head?”

“Nothing,” you sighed. “I’m just gonna miss you. Almost four years we spent pissing each other off during stakeouts and memorizing coffee orders. It's gonna be hard to replace you as a partner.”

He smiled, reaching over the table to give your hand a squeeze. “I know. I’m gonna miss you too. Especially the little paper balls you throw onto my desk every afternoon.” You laughed as he pulled his hand back. “But I’m just changing jobs. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“And I’ll see you when you come to pick up Rollins from the station for date nights,” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

He grabbed another two champagne flutes from the bar, handing one bubbly glass to you.

“Hey, Stone’s here.” Your eyes widened as Sonny waved him over, standing out of your line of sight. “I didn’t think he was the gala type.”

“He isn’t.” You murmured out before Peter stepped up to your hightop.

He was in his classic black suit without a tie, not wasting any time getting changed for an event he probably didn’t even want to be at.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be one to attend a work sanctioned event.” Carisi said, getting a small smile out of you.

“Well you think right. Jack McCoy thought it would be good if I dropped by for a little while, mingled with some of my colleagues.”

“And how’s that going?” You asked.

“Awfully mundane.” He answered with a smile. “What about you guys? Two cops at a lawyer ego fest? Nothing better to do on a Wednesday night?”

“I’m trying to get my name out there, make some connections with DAs throughout the boroughs. And my partner here agreed to tag along.”

“He bribed me with fries and a milkshake.” You clarified.

“Of course he did. Cookie dough from the Bryer’s family stand?”

“Obviously.”

Carisi looked at the two of you, quickly falling into place even after years apart. Even though he didn’t witness the years you two were together, moments like these would come along, and he could only imagine how happy the two of you must have been.

“I just saw the Manhattan DA by the bar,” Carisi interrupted, drawing your attention back to him. “I guess you can sit this one out, five conversations later I think I have it down.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. “I’m sure the sixth person I’ve met tonight wouldn’t wince after finding out I’m a cop.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Keep your wise mouth over here, please.” He joked as he excused himself from the table.

You and Peter watched him head over to the bar, introducing himself to a brunette woman who you now know is the Manhattan DA. Barely thirty seconds into meeting her and she already has a smile on her face. That’s Sonny Carisi for you.

You looked away from the conversation between the two lawyers, about to ask Peter about the case you guys were currently working on, but he was already looking at you.

“What?” You asked defensively, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears and quickly glancing down at your outfit. “Do I look like an idiot? I’m trying to blend in with the white collar crowd,”

You pinched the fabric of your dress and let it flow, gesturing to the elegant piece of clothing you bought just for this occasion.

“No, you look fine.” His eyes softened and looked you over one more time. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” It was only a matter of seconds before your cheeks started to warm. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Well, a suit is very versatile. Works in a courtroom, interrogations, and even galas.”

“Lucky you. I haven’t been in a gown since prom. I should’ve just kept that dress, it would’ve been a statement piece over ten years later.”

“I’m not so sure the purple and yellow swirls would have helped Carisi win over any of the DAs.” Peter commented with a small smile.

But you had forgotten he was your date. You forgot he knew exactly what that hideous dress looked like. You forgot that you two danced the night away. You forgot for a minute that he’s the reason you can’t listen to Coldplay’s yellow.

You forgot, for the smallest moment, that you had even been together.

And what a scary moment it was.

“Hey,” He ducked his head, his eyes meeting you at your level. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook your head and took a sip of your champagne. “Just remembering that awful, awful dress.”

Before you were thrown off any more in this conversation, Jack McCoy approached your table.

“Counselor,” he rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder, a smile gracing both of their faces. “Glad to see you could make it.”

“Well my boss didn’t really give me a choice. He’s kind of a pain in the ass.” They exchanged a look, and you had to stifle the laugh rising in your throat.

“Jack, I’m sure you remember the Detective,” Peter said, moving the conversation to you.

Jack shook your hand, and you gave him your best smile. “I believe we’ve crossed paths once or twice. She may have even told me off about prosecuting one Rafael Barba.”

“I would say I’m sorry, but I told him off too.” you pointed to Peter, rolling his eyes. “But we’re all just doing our job.”

“I like her,” Jack said with a smile. “She reminds me a lot of a young baseball player I knew once.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t you have other DA’s to piss off here tonight?” Peter interrupted.

“I do. It was nice to see you, Detective,” you smiled as he took a step away from the table. “And don’t think you can skip out on the dance floor tonight, Stone.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Peter ended it, Jack giving a slight wave behind his back.

He turned back to you, his smile never wavering. How was he not nervous around you?

Ever since he came back from Chicago, you had to think about what you said a little more than normal. Not to mention bury the guilt and anger you still felt.

But he just looked at you like nothing ever happened. Like nothing destroyed the relationship you two once had. Your stomach was in knots anytime you caught a glimpse of him. You couldn’t form a coherent thought around him, your mind kept going back to that one awful day in Chicago, where you changed your lives forever. It was why you were so defensive that first day outside the courthouse, during his first interrogation, really up until Pam’s death, when you knew he needed someone that could understand the grief he was in.

You wanted to push past it. You wanted to smile like Peter did, be able to reminisce about high school and college without the hurt seeping into your chest. You’d gotten closure, yelled and screamed, insulted and forgave one another, but there was something still holding you back.

“Hey,” for the second time tonight, Peter lowered himself to your level, giving you that annoyingly charming crooked smile, before asking “are you alright?”

“No,” you answered honestly, and without thinking through an explanation. “Why do you remember the color of my prom dress?”

“What?” He asked, a bit incredulous, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.

“Why do you remember the color of my prom dress?” you asked again, as if you were asking a simple question as what’s the weather like outside. “How do you remember all of this stuff? Our first kiss, the fact that I only like rainbow sprinkles, when I sprained my fucking ankle in soccer,”

“Why does any of this matter?” He interrupted, taking a step closer to you.

“Because you talk about these things as if everything was sunshine and rainbows between us, like we lived on fucking cloud nine and drank nothing but champagne and happiness. And that’s, that’s not how it was.”

Your voice was rising, catching the eye of some prominent lawyers, including Sonny and the Manhattan DA.

You lowered your head, gathering your clutch and slipping your heels back on. “I should go before I embarrass Carisi,”

“Don’t leave, not like this,” Peter grabbed your arm as you tried to walk away from the table, making you pause for a second, before brushing him off.

“Tell Carisi I’ll see him tomorrow.” Your voice was half an octave lower, eyes straight ahead as you started walking toward the exit.

Peter called out for you once, and then twice, but stopped at the same time you heard some gangly footsteps catching up with you. You halted once you approached the steps, listening as Sonny asked you to wait, and the tears started to fall.

What a night.

****

“Go home, Rollins. I’ll finish up here, the girls will be excited to see you.”

“Ok. But if anything comes up, call me. I‘ll probably just be sleeping on the couch.”

“Okay,” you said with a laugh. “Liv and I can hold down the fort.”

She packed up her bag and tidied her desk for the night, waving goodbye as she had her nanny on the phone.

You refocused on the paperwork in front of you, sighing at the thick stack waiting to be finished.

Getting through half the stack was your goal for tonight, and by 7:30, your hand was cramping as you were a few shy of completion. They could wait until tomorrow.

Before you pack up your things and rush out the door, you stop in at your Lieutenant’s office, Liv still chugging away at her own desk.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“Hey Liv, do you need anything before I head out?”

Her head snapped up, and you saw the grimace of pain on her face. The crick in her neck was something you were all too familiar with.

“No, no, I’m good.” She cracked her knuckles and stretched a little in her chair. “In all honesty I didn’t even know you were still here. Thought you left with Rollins a few hours ago.”

“Wanted to get a head start on paperwork. Besides, she deserved an early night with the girls for once.”

You guys had been busy for weeks, case after case being thrown at you, you barely had time to think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

“Just trying to catch up, huh? Not avoiding anything?”

“There’s nothing in my life to avoid, unless you count the stack of unopened mail on my counter or the weeks of Say Yes to the Dress episodes in my DVR.”

The knock on Liv’s opened door paused the conversation, as you turned to look at the visitor.

“Sorry to interrupt,”

This guy is fucking everywhere.

“You’re not interrupting, Peter. We’re both about to head out, unless you need something from me,” Liv answered.

You focused on the floor, wanting to be anywhere in the world except back in this office with Peter. This place was full of bad mojo for the two of you.

“No, I actually came to talk to the detective.” He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded cautious, and once you looked back at him, you saw the nerves painted across his face.

Good. He was finally as terrified as you were to talk.

“Let me grab my bag, and we can walk out.”

You exchanged goodbye’s with Olivia before quickly, and rather clumsily, knocking your bag into the side of Carisi’s metal desk on the way out. You didn’t even bother packing up your desk; Peter was making you nervous just by watching you in your space.

“So, what did you want to talk about? Is it the Mendoza case?” You asked as the two of you stepped onto the elevator and he pressed the button for level 1.

“No. I wanted to talk about the other night.”

The gala.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Am I seriously going to have to pry every piece of information out of you from here on out?” He had an attitude, not putting up with your act of deniability.

The doors opened to the lobby, and you led the way out to the street. You walked down the sidewalk a little bit before stopping in front of a quieter spot near the cruiser parking lot.

The sun set about half an hour ago, so the only light source you had was the bright yellow lamp post beating down on the two of you. It didn’t matter that he was standing under the fluorescent bulb; Peter was glowing in his white button down and overcoat.

He always seemed to glow.

“Well you wanted to talk, so get to speaking before I change my mind.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like none of this matters to you!” he exclaimed, your eyes widening the slightest bit. It was usually you making the most noise. “From the moment you saw me in the courtroom a year ago, you’ve been avoiding me and every conversation about us. It took you weeks just to talk to me about our working situation, never mind our friendship. You keep me at an arm's length, bringing up our past and things we used to do, only to shut it down the minute I reminisce about something we did that made me so fucking happy. I thought we talked through this a month ago, said our peace and moved on. I thought we were comfortable with each other again.”

“We are,” you mustered out.

“Then why can’t you talk to me anymore?” He asked, and you could hear the genuity in his voice. “At the gala, you were the one that brought up the stupid prom dress. We were laughing, having a good time, and it felt like normal, until I said you wore a purple dress. And then you shut down, distanced yourself from me again, leaving me on an island filled with our past, letting me second guess every single moment we shared together. Wondering if you felt the same about the midnight ice cream runs, Sunday subway rides, crying in the back of my dads fucking station wagon when he told me about Pam, ”

He ran a hand through his hair, catching his breath in the process. You barely noticed the tremor as he raised his hand.

“Did our relationship not mean the same to you?”

For the second time in your life, you felt what could only be described as heartbreak. In the literal, physical meaning, the ache in your chest felt like your heart had split in two. And both times, it was because of Peter Stone.

“Of course it meant the same to me, Peter. I remember the first day I met you, that stupid lopsided grin you had didn’t leave your face the entire subway ride. You were the only person at school that talked to me, the new girl, for two months.”

You smiled as you began to remember nearly every interaction you shared.

“I remember the first time I met your father and Pam, she wouldn’t stop teasing you about me. I remember the Red Sox vs. Yankees game we went to sophomore year and you had to give me your Mariano Rivera jersey after some drunk guy spilled his beer all over me. I remember tutoring you in Spanish, bribing you with nickels to use at the stupid toy machine at the corner store. I remember your first cell phone number, and the way you ended your voicemail with an ‘okay, that sounded like shit. Oh fuck, i’m still recording!’ and couldn’t figure out how to fix it for weeks.

“In my apartment, I have the ticket stub from the first Mets game we went to. I pressed one of the purple tulips you gave me a week before we started dating and I keep it in my favorite book. I kept the receipt from our first date, I kept the boarding pass to my first plane ticket to Chicago. In the back of my closet, I still have your Cubs jersey on a hanger.

“I remember being happy with you, Peter. I remember our first kiss so clearly, I remember when you said ‘I love you’ in the library, I remember you teaching me how to slow dance for my cousin’s wedding, I remember our first time and how incredibly safe you made me feel. I remember being loved by you every single day for eight years.”

There were tears in your eyes now as you took a breath, but he never once looked away from you.

“Every time I see you, all I can think about is you kneeling in front of me as I destroy what we had. And I know I don’t deserve to feel this heartbroken about the situation that I caused, but I do.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’m never going to find something like that again, a love that made me feel seen, even in my worst moments, despite my own shortcomings. I was stubborn, and took too long to understand myself. I realized this all too late, but I’ve accepted it.”

“I don’t blame you,” he finally interrupted, taking the smallest step toward you. You shook your head, the movement causing more tears to fall. He took the last two steps to reach you, grabbing your hands in his own. “And I know, it's going to take a lot more than me telling you that to convince you, but we have to start somewhere. We hurt each other in different ways whether we meant to or not. So, please listen to me when I say I don’t blame you.

“As for finding a relationship like ours again, I don’t think I’ll be able to find something like it, or something that surpasses it, at that rate. And I don’t want to. Because I only want to feel that all consuming love with you.”

“Peter,” you started, clearing your throat and wiping away your tears. “The last thing you want is to go through this again.”

“When are you going to understand that my feelings for you never went away?” He started, and you felt your heart rate quicken. “You were more than just a girl I wanted to marry. You were my best friend. And being without you these last few years has been incredibly lonely.”

He took a minute to think about what he was going to say next, his brows furrowing and then relaxing a few times to make sure he got it right.

“I want you in my life. As my colleague, as my friend, and my partner. But if you don’t want that, I’m willing to take whatever you’ll give me. But please, please don’t cut me out again.”

It was his eyes that began to fill with tears now, the light catching the blue irises fighting to keep the tears in. Part of you wished he would just let go, stop trying to contain himself and his emotions.

But you were doing the exact same thing.

“I’m scared we’re going to fail again.” You admitted, and Peter just smiled in return.

Finally. You were letting him in.

“How do you know it’s going to fail if you don’t even give it a chance?”

You took a deep breath as he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles.

“No one knows me better than you do,”

“And that terrifies you.” He finished, a small smile resting on his face. “It’s terrifying for me too. But it saves me a lot of time not having to learn your birthday or favorite color.”

He got the smallest smile out of you. “I am terrified, and also feel strangely at peace, and I’m still going to be sorry.”

Before you could continue self flagellating, he rested his hand on the side of your face, and gently placed his lips over yours. It was chaste, incredibly sweet as you remembered what he tasted like, and lasted only a few seconds longer than the first one you shared sixteen years ago.

He pulled away slowly, running his thumb across your cheek in the gentlest manner.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?”

You nodded, as he kissed you again, in the same chaste yet heart shattering way. When he pulled away, he was quick to pull you back to him, placing a kiss on your forehead before tucking you under his chin, his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

You tucked yourself into his neck, gently running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. And, because you could, you placed a kiss to the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder, without feeling embarrassed about it this time.

Because he was yours again. And you weren’t going to let him go this time.

“I love you,” you whispered into his skin, and pressed your lips to the same spot once again.

You felt the curve of his lips as he kissed your head, “I love you too,” murmured into your hair and the empty city block around you.

Or so you thought.

About fifty feet away, standing in the back entrance to the precinct, were Sonny and Amanda, spying on the spectacle between the two of you.

“How do we tell her that we caught a case after this?” Carisi asked, tearing his eyes away from your embrace and down at Amanda.

“The same way you told me. Over a second date dinner before we even got the bread.” She teased, getting him to roll his eyes.

She reached for his hand as he began to walk away, gently squeezing to let him know she understood the circumstances, and that it didn’t change anything.

The soft smile he gave her in return nearly killed her.

“Hey Romeo and Juliet!” Rollins shouted, in an attempt to both get your attention and reclaim her strong demeanor. “We got a case, so if you could wrap up the balcony scene, that would be great.”

You flinched the slightest bit when you heard Rollins shout at you, quickly settling back into Peter’s chest as he gently squeezed your sides.

“Busted already. Thought we’d at least have a couple days to figure this out for ourselves.”

You pulled away just far enough so you could look up at him and admire his sparkling blue eyes.

“We will. But until then, business as usual.”

“But no self-sabotage or flagellating.” He added. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You smiled and rose onto your tiptoes to kiss him, starting in the same slow way you always did, enjoying the lazy way your lips moved together. This is what heaven felt like, and you remember now why you never felt anxious in Peter’s presence.

He started to pull away, but you snuck in a few more small kisses, the smile on his face growing after each one.

“I’ll call you when I can, okay?”

He kept his eyes on yours as he took a second before answering, a deep breath in and out, replaced by a beautiful Peter smile.

“Okay.”

It was hard to explain what happened in that moment he took for himself, but you knew it was for you. To show you he loved, respected, and accepted you for who you were in the past, and who you are now. And it’s all you could ever ask for.

****

tags: @hurricanejjareau @qvid-pro-qvo @duchesschameleon @averyhotchner

#peter stone x female!reader #peter stone x reader #peter stone #peter stone fanfiction #peter stone fic #law and order: svu #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order: svu fanfiction #jules writes shit ??

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: There’s no NSFW because I didn’t feel like writing one xx

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿ESFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Lawful Good 🔮Gemini Sun, Virgo Moon, Leo Rising

SFW🌿

⭑ It was as if Aslan had planned it all along

⭑ Someone to humble the High King; an outsider, an outcast. Someone that would ultimately merge parts of Narnia, and come together without fuss.

⭑ You bickered and snapped at each other from the day you met until your wedding (and it still happens from time to time)

⭑ Edmund loved you - and initially thought you would be the perfect match for him. But you were too alike, and the eldest brother had to marry first.

⭑ But after some time, he realised that Aslan was right. And you were better off as friends (not that he let anyone know his feelings).

⭑ Your wedding was HUGE, much bigger than you could have ever imagined. All of Narnia stopped for a whole day and night to celebrate the union

⭑ You both wore white, but his was a warmer cream and yours, a cooler ivory

⭑ Edmund was his best man and either Lucy or your own sister was your maid of honour.

⭑ Aslan officiated (obviously. And Lucy wanted him to wear a special hat)

⭑ And Susan was the official ‘witness’ (signing of the documents part)

⭑ Peter always sleeps on the right side of the bed

⭑ He’s a morning person. And gets grumpier as the day goes on. But perks up whenever he sees you

⭑ His petnames for you are, ‘Darling, Sweetheart, My Love, My Heart.’

⭑ Your petnames for him are, ‘Honey,’ ‘My Liege’ (said usually with a dramatic curtsy and head bow). But most times you just call him, ‘Peter,’ ‘Blondie’ or ‘Sword Boy.’

⭑ Training with you:

“No, see you’re not holding your sword high enough-” Peter moved to correct your form.

“What? Yes I am?” You rebutted, your eyebrows knitting together.

“Will you just let me help?” He retorted, giving you a stern look.

⭑ The others love it. They always watch on when you’re at it

“Peter should really learn to keep his mouth closed,” Lucy sighed as she and Susan looked on from the window.

⭑ You do feel insecure at times, but Peter is always there, either physically or emotionally hoisting you back on your feet.

“We’re together for a reason. We belong together.”

⭑ Peter can be very romantic

⭑ He never forgets a special occasion/event/milestone.

⭑ You’re usually the one that does

⭑ And he’s more sensitive than you are

⭑ Peter was very very jealous when Caspian came along

“I don’t know what Susan sees in him anyway...”

“Well he is handsome-”

Peter turned to you with raised eyebrows, “Oh is he now?”

⭑ Lucy loves spending time with you. You’re like another sister, and she loves it!

⭑ Susan absolutely adores you, especially now that she can outnumber Peter

⭑ Peter knows your favourite colour, flower, stone, piece of jewelry, day of the week, memory etc.

⭑ He suprises you with how well he’s remembered everything. You on the other hand ... don’t have the greatest memory. But you do try!

⭑ You’re always worried for the other’s safety

⭑ And you actually get into a lot more fights than he does

⭑ Relationship Tropes:

✧ Rivals to Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers/Married

✧ Mature/Responsible x Snarky/Fierce

✧ Sun x Moon

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alex-grace · 2 years ago

Text

˗ˋˏ and i'm sitting on a bench at coney island wondering, where did my baby go? ˎˊ˗

summary: peter wasn't the only kid tony lost that day on titan (tony stark x female teen reader; implied peter parker x fem reader)

wc. 2.0k

a/n: so y/n's powers are similar to wanda bc its monday and i do not function on mondays. yes i added lyrics to this because I'm insane :) also, i know the lyrics are not in order but bear with me, and apologises in advance babes ♡

--------------------------⟭⟬----------------------------

Red, yellow, orange, black.

That’s all she could see.

Rockets were going off, red and gold ones to be specific.

This dumbass was going against the grape by himself.

“Go,” She heard Peter say. He shot a web to a incoming rock, re-directing it from one of the new space nerds they had met. She flicked her arm out and disintegrated it before it even came close to the two.

“Go I got this.” He said again.

“Stay out of the gravitational orbit will ya?” Y/N replied back, quickly. Knowing Peter was well capable of biting of only what he could chew. Sorta.

Better than Mr. T’s ability.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember anybody’s names,” She heard him say over the blood roaring in her ears. Thanos had ripped of Tony’s nano-tech mask, landing a hard blow on him.

Tony didn’t get back up.

Her arrival on ground caused a ripple under the planet’s surface. Small rocks and debris around her went up in disintegration. Her eyes glowing a soft white.

“Hands off,” She growled as she lifted herself back up in the air.

˗ˋ And when I got into the accident, The sight that flashes

before me was your faceˎˊ˗

Thanos was quicker, sending a blast of purple energy from the Power stone straight to where Y/N flew over head. Landing to punch.

The purple met white.

Y/N stayed with one arm outstretched, the other closer to her face. Generating whatever she could.

She’s seen Tony get pushed down, it never struck her. She always knew he’d get back up. This was different.

This was war.

Her hand closest to her began to move outward. One stream of energy keeping the Power stone’s abilities away from her, while she sent a second stream right toward the infinity gauntlet.

The gold closest to his elbow began to deteriorate.

Thanos tilted his head in confusion. How the hell was that working?

That’s when purple started to win, Y/N’s hands beginning to shake from the strain.

Thank Thor above Tony had been watching as he prepared to strike.

The purple was gone almost immediately as a flash of red and gold flew by her. That’s when the blue hit, the Space stone. Moving her forcefully across the face of the planet.

“Somethings happening,” she heard someone say. She was too disoriented to put the voice to a name. Not that she would’ve remembered, shed met these space geeks less than hours ago.

She was too far away from the group to see what exactly what the voice was referring to. She crawled onto her legs on hands and knees, wobbling over, and holding her side. Her temple was bleeding, lip cut, arm probably fractured from the impact of Thanos hitting her with the Space stone. Most of her body had absorbed the energy, but it still hurt like hell.

She stumbled on her way to the group, just a handful of meters away.

Except there was no group anymore. Just the woman with the cool hand, and Tony. But Tony was kneeling over someone.

“I’m sorry,”

No.

She didn’t need superpowers or FRIDAY to tell her whose voice was that. His voice would forever be engraved in her mind, her soul.

What happened to him?

What happened to him.

Anger flooded through her, as it always did. She looked around for the Titan, for Strange, for anyone else there.

Why did everyone leave?

She looked at her shaky hands.

Did I do this?

Oh God.

This was me, wasn’t it.

I finally messed up.

---------

Tony turned around, eyes blank as he looked at the ashes on his hands.

His kid’s ashes.

Shit.

The kids.

Y/N was staggering over to him. Horror in her eyes as she darted from her hands, to around her, back to her hands.

“Tony?” She whispered.

Not you please not you too.

Part of him didn’t want to move, he didn’t know if he could save her. He lost one please let Y/N not be another.

He got up anyway, swaying unsteadily under the floor of an already unsteady planet.

Tony reached his arms out to grab her. To keep her there with him. . He lost one, please let Y/N not be another.

But Y/N didn’t fall into his arms like Peter did.

She just stood there.

He held onto her shoulders.

“Kid-, “ He said quietly looking down at the girl he considered his daughter.

Y/N’s hand stayed connected to her stomach, like if she moved she would hurt him even more than he already was. She kept her eyes flickering side to side from his.

She put her hand on his face.

Tony wanted to say something. To comfort her? To keep her there? To tell her not to go? To tell her she should’ve stayed home with her stupid muffin she was so excited to eat that morning.

“Never let them take your heart,”

He had to watch her disappear into dust, her eyes closed right before…

He crumbled under the disappearance of the weight right next to him.

They lost. But Tony didn’t know what hurt more. Because he didn’t just “lose”.

He felt like he died that day too. On that stupid orange planet.

And he felt, like he died split in two.

•────────⎊────────────•

3 Weeks Later

Grass.

That was the first thing Tony saw as Nebula helped him down the stairs of the Bentar. He previously saw a figure running toward them.

Of course it had to be the Captain himself.

Neither recognized the fact in that they hadn’t seen each other since the brutal fight in Siberia. For a moment they were just Tony and Steve. Not Iron Man and Captain America.

Friends.

“Couldn’t stop him.” Was the first words Tony uttered.

“Neither could I.” Steve followed immediately afterword, supporting Tony as much as he could.

“Hang on,” Barley a whisper. Tony hated the words that came out of his mouth next. He’s been dreading it for weeks. God how he wished somedays aboard that ship he could’ve died with them.

“I lost the kids,”

“Oh, Tony we lost.”

Pepper ran into Tony’s arms, taking his attention away from Steve. Giving him a moment to realize what just happened.

Sure the super soldier’s reflexes and quick thinking was fast. But this threw him completely off his course.

What the hell did Tony mean by ‘the kids’?

Sure the Spider-Boy that went missing with Tony in New York, and…

Oh God. No.

…

A few hours later…

“You’re new blood we need you.” He pointed at Carol as he unsteadily walked over to where Steve stood, holding onto the table now and then for support.

“I said, ‘we'd lose’. You said, ‘We'll do that together too.’ And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers”

Rhodey finally cut in. “Okay.”

“Right?”

“You made your point. Just sit down.” His friend told him, hands on his arms.

Tony mumbled an okay, but Stark’s never stay quite.

Y/N wouldn’t, he thought. “Nah, nah. Here's my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you're sick.” Rhodey could hardly be heard over the rush of adrenaline that went through Tony.

Tony looked over to the new blonde standing silently in the corner. “She's great, by the way.”

“Sit down. Sit.”

“We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules. You’re new blood we need you.” He pointed at Carol as he unsteadily walked over to where Steve stood holding onto the table now and then for support. Right in front of his face, hushing down to a venomous tone.

“I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.”

The old friends just gaze at each other. Steve looking affected by Tony's words.

“You know Steve, the las thing she ever said to me? Never let them take your heart.”

Tony rips his Arc Reactor from his chest and shoves it into Steve's hand

“It’s too bad I’m giving it. You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

Tony falls to the ground. Steve is by his side and everyone is starting to gather.

“Tony!”

“I’m fine. I...”

Tony falls into a heap, unconscious.

No one needed magical powers to know damn well who he was talking about.

•───────⎊─────────────•

5 Months Later

It’s October 21.

It was supposed to be a party.

He had hiding a box of streamers and banners and deflated balloons in the lab for weeks.

Not even mentioning the closet full of papers for guest lists, and different planned out days on crumbled pieces of paper.

The invitations were ready to be sent.

Pepper had gone out of her way to pick a dress for her.

He looked out to the morning sunrise on the hard wooden bench. He had told Pepper he was going on a run.

Pepper knew, Tony never ran a day in his life. But after losing Y/N, she lost a piece of Tony herself. Not even mentioning the own hole it left in her heart. In her home.

Tony had fallen asleep to the thought of birthday cake last night. Maybe it was the nightly delusions kicking in. A blanket was placed over him. He just wanted to go back to that dream, only being held less than a couple months ago. A life that felt so long ago.

He woke up groggy that morning. Rubbing his hair as he placed one foot in front of the other in the hallway. He had a little too much to drink last night at his “surprise” birthday party Pepper had thrown for him. Unlucky for her, FRIDAY knows everything.

“God you people are so loud,” He heard a voice whisper from a few feet around the corner. Shhh’s followed. He knew that voice.

In the softest voices possible for an hungover Sunday, “Happy birthdays!” were exclaimed.

˗ˋˏ You standing in the hallway with a big cake, Happy

birthday ˎˊ˗

Y/N at the center of the little group, comprised of, Peter, Happy, and Pepper.

“Happy birthday to you,” They whispered through smiling faces.

“Happy birthday to you,” God how much did he have to drink that night?

“Happy birthday dear Mr. T,”

“Tony,”

“Mr. Stark,”

The cake read, ‘Halfway to Senior Citizen!’ in the messiest handwriting Tony has ever seen on a cake.

“Happy birthday to you!”

He told himself he didn’t deserve this. This makeshift group of friends. Any yet Tony thought to himself, these were no longer just his friends.

They were family.

“It’s-its bullshit I’ve even come to this but. God, kid I had to-I had to be the one to tell you.” He stuttered as he spoke, his hand running down his face.

“If you’re still there, knowing you, you’ve probably already sorted through all of my stuff,”

He pulled out a white envelope from the inside of his athletic jacket. The sides were torn and worn, illustrating just how many times Tony thought of burning it.

He ripped open the white flap gently. His hands shook while he did. Deep down it hurt, even more than usual, because he knew he was never supposed to be the one opening this. He was supposed to be watching from across the couch where you were supposed to be. Sitting “criss-cross-applesauce” you always said in that stupid sing-song voice. Opening all of dozens of birthday presents—making up for the time you never got to.

He blames himself, for he’s the reason you will never get another candle on a birthday cake.

A bead of water landed on the paper, causing a smudge of black ink to run along the letters.

Anthony Edward Stark, Virginia Potts

Custody of Y/N Y/L/N

“Happy birthday kid.”

˗ˋˏ I’m on a bench in Coney Island, wondering

Where did my baby go? ˎˊ˗

•───────⎊─────────────•

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 authors note 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

hello my friends! i promise i'm not dead, just math sucks and makes me wait to di--you get the point. if you haven't pieced it together already i am very much a swiftie, so much of my work will be inspired/be incorporated with mother's song of some sort. if you've made it this far i love you.

i will be making a taglish fyi ! lmk if you would like to be added ˙ᵕ˙

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent

#yeah okay im sorry for this one #...yeah not really LMAOO #tony stark x platonic!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #avengers #marvel

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theyraylovehate · 2 years ago

Text

Wheel of Fan Fiction Masterlist

Smut 🔥

Fluff 🌸

Angst 💧

*This is like brand new so most of the characters won't have anything just yet*

•Stranger things

-Billy Hargrove

-Steve Harrington

-Eddie Munson

-Robin Buckley (Fem/NB only)

-Argyle

-Johnathan Byers

-Nancy Wheeler

-Jim Hopper

-Joyce Byers

-001/Henry

-Will Byers (No smut)

-Mike Wheeler (No smut)

-Max Mayfield (No smut)

Hateful Cuddling - Female reader 🌸

-Dustin Henderson (No smut)

-Lucas Sinclair (No smut)

-Eleven (Jane) Hopper (No smut)

•Marvel

-Iron Man/Tony Stark

-Captian America/Steve Rogers

-Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff

-Hawkeye/Clint Barton

-Hulk/Bruce Banner

-Thor

-Loki

-Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes

-Black Panther/T'challa

-Doctor Strange/Steven Strange

-Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff

-Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff

-Starlord/Peter Quill

-Gamora

-Spiderman/Peter Parker

-Falcon/Sam Wilson

-War Machine/James Rhodes

-Valkyrie (Fem/NB only)

•X-Men

-Professor X/Charles Xavier

-Magneto/Erik Lensherr

-Wolverine/James Howlett

-Quicksilver/Peter Maximoff

-Rogue

-Jean Grey

-Storm/Ororo Munroe

-Cyclops/Scott Summers

-Mystique/Raven

-Beast/Henry "Hank" McCoy

-Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner

-Havok/Alexander Summers

•DC/Young Justice

-Batman/Bruce Wayne

-Superman/Clark Kent

-The Flash/Barry Allen

-Aquaman/Authur Curry

-Cyborg/Victor Stone

-Joker/Jack Oswald White

-Harley Quinn/Harleen Quinzel

-Wonder Woman/Diana Prince

-DeadShot/Floyd Lawton

-Kid Flash/Wally West

-Nightwing (Robin #1)/ Dick Grayson

-Red Hood (Robin #2)/ Jason Todd

-Robin (#3)/ Tim Drake

-Beast Boy/Garfield Logan

-Superboy/Johnathan "Jon" Kent

-Artemis/Artemis Crock

-Red Arrow/Roy Harper

-Green Arrow/Oliver Queen

-Black Canary/Dinah Lance

-Miss Martian/Megan Morse

-Aqualad/Kaldur'ahm

•Umbrella Academy

-Luther Hargreeves (#1)

-Diego Hargreeves (#2)

-Allison Hargreeves (#3)

-Klaus Hargreeves (#4)

-Five Hargreeves (#5)

-Ben Hargreeves (#6)

-Viktor Hargreeves (#7)

-Marcus Hargreeves (#1)

-Fei Hargreeves (#3)

-Alphonso Hargreeves (#4)

-Sloan Hargreeves (#5)

-Jayme Hargreeves (#6)

-Lila Aryu

-The Handler

•Harry Potter

-Harry Potter

-Ron Weasley

-Hermione Granger

-Fred Weasley

-George Weasley

-Ginny Weasley

-Draco Malfoy

-Sirius Black (Older)

-Cedric Diggory

-Oliver Wood

-Neville Longbottom

-Luna Lovegood

-Remus Lupin (Older)

-Nymphadora Tonks

-Lucious Malfoy (Older)

-Narcissa Malfoy (Older)

-Severus Snape (Older)

-Bill Weasley

-Charlie Weasley

•Marauders

-James Potter

Friendly Love - Male reader 🌸

-Lily Evans

-Sirius Black

-Remus Lupin

-Severus Snape

-Regulus Black

-Lusious Malfoy

-Narcissa Black

-Peter Pettigrew

•Greek Mythology

-Zeus

-Hades

-Posideon

-Apollo

-Hera

-Persephone

-Ares

-Athena

-Demeter

-Aphrodite

-Artemis

-Dionysus

-Hermes

•Divergent

-Beatrice "Tris" Prior

-Caleb Prior

-Eric

-Peter

-Christina

-Will

-Tobias "Four"

-Zeke

Zip line of Love - Nonbinary Reader (Requested) 🌸

-Uriah

•Star Wars

-Anakin Skywalker

-Luke Skywalker

-Leia Organa

-Han Solo

-Obi-Wan Kenobi

-Kylo Ren

•Supernatural

-Dean Winchester

-Sam Winchester

-Castiel

-Crowley

-Lucifer

-Rowena MacLeod

-Gabriel

-Charlie Bradbury (Fem/NB only)

-Chuck Shurley

-Jody Mills

-Ellen Harvelle

-Kevin Tran

•The Walking Dead

-Rick Grimes

-Daryl Dixon

-Glenn Rhee

-Carl Grimes

-Maggie Greene

-Negan

-Michonne

-Shane Walsh

-Rosita Espinosa

-Carol Peletier

-Paul "Jesus" Monroe

-Abraham Ford

‐Tara Chambler (Fem/NB only)

-Enid

-Ezekiel

-Aaron (Masc/NB only)

•The Walking Dead Game

-Clementine

-Lee

-Kenny

-Luke

-Javier

-Gabriel

-Kate

-Louis

-Omar

-Ruby

-Mitch

-Marlon

-Violet (Fem/NB only)

IT (2017)

-Richie Tozier

-Beverly Marsh

-Eddie Kaspbrak

-Bill Denbrough

-Stanley Uris

-Ben Hanscom

-Henry Bowers

-Mike Hanlon

-Patrick Hockstetter

-Victor Criss

-Belch Huggins

•Desendants

-Mal

-Evie

-Ben

-Jay

-Jane

-Chad

-Doug

-Lonnie

-Carlos

-Uma

-Harry Hook

-Gil

•Maze Runner

-Newt

-Minho

-Gally

-Teresa

-Alby

-Chuck

-Brenda

-Aris

-Thomas

-Frypan

-Jorge

155 notes · View notes

depressedbagpipe · 2 years ago

Text

Silver (Prince Caspian x female!reader)

Chapter IV - Peter's Mistake

Words: 3385 Warnings: lots of angst, besties fighting in front of a bunch of people. I guess mentions of misogyny? Caspian and reader having a badly written moment alone. Reader's hair is long enough to be put into braids. Reader is clad in weapons, too. The first part is more of a filler. A/N: I'm not gonna lie, this physically hurt to write, because I love Peter so much but I needed some angst. I don't know how to hint at romance between characters so I'll leave it like this for the time being. Thank y'all so much for your support <3

Series Masterlist Previous chapter <;> Next chapter

Chapter IV - Peter's Mistake

“It’s only a matter of time. Miraz’s men and war machines are on their way. That means those same men aren’t protecting his castle,” Peter looked around the room.

An emergency war meeting had been called, all of us standing around Aslan’s table. I sat on my trunk, dressed in my old armor, clad in weapons from head to toe. My hair was in the usual braids that I wore for battle, keeping the hair away from my face and my silver locks on display. I was the spitting image of myself once again, the big stone portrait behind me backing me up. As soon as the room started to fill up with all the Narnians, I could hear their whispers. They stood a couple of feet away from me, either in terror or wonder, but I felt like the powerful warrior I had once been for over a decade.

Reepicheep asked. “What do you propose we do, your Majesty?” He had easily won Peter’s favor, being the first to show him the respect Peter always sought.

“We need to get ready for it,” Peter started.

“To start planning for…” Caspian answered.

There was an awkward silence as both members of different royal houses challenged each other with their eyes, only for Caspian to give in.

Peter continued without any interruption. “Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us,” he explained. I already pictured his plan in my head, yet as soon as I caught sight of Caspian’s face, I knew that was not a good plan.

“But that’s crazy. No one has taken that castle,” Caspian spoke, directly defying Peter. He didn’t like that.

“There’s always a first time,” he was sending daggers to Caspian now.

Trumpkin intervened, Peter’s plan being mulled over in his head. “We’ll have the element of surprise,” he agreed.

“But we have the advantage here!” Caspian tried to reason with everyone in the room. I already had my eyes fixed on him before he looked at me, almost pleading for my help. I remained quiet, not wanting to aggravate the scene, yet the Narnians were pretty much sold.

“If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely,” Susan sided with Caspian. Peter hardly stared at his sister, something like betrayal radiating off of him.

“I, for one, feel safer underground,” Trufflehunter spoke, always the mediator.

Peter turned to look at Caspian again, a cold stare on his face, his jaw tensed. “Look, I appreciate what you’ve done here, but this isn’t a fortress. It’s a tomb,” he almost spat the words out, coming closer to the dark-haired boy.

Edmund, who was sitting next to me, suddenly spoke. “Yes. And if they’re smart, the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out.”

Everybody was taking sides. I stood in the perfect middle of the two kings, watching their feud.

Reepicheep, his loyalty unmatched, spoke again. “I think you know where I stand, sire,” he bowed once more.

We all had our eyes on Peter, yet he quickly turned to look at me. As his right hand in combat, my word usually outweighed the rest of the council’s advice. I knew he was looking for my support, as he always did. And he usually had it. Yet this time, I simply couldn’t agree with him. I shook my head without speaking, sending a pleading look to him to not come forward with the plan, but his stare only became colder, even more determination in his eyes at my refusal.

Peter turned to Glenstone, the centaur currently in charge of the Old Narnian army. “If I get your troops in, can you handle the guards?” he asked him.

I didn’t fail to notice how he glanced at Caspian before answering Peter’s question. “Or die trying, my liege,” he nodded at him.

Peter’s satisfaction was short-lived, for Lucy quietly spoke behind Peter, sitting on the Stone Table. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Sorry?” Peter questioned.

“You’re all acting like there’s only two options. Dying here, or dying there,” I felt pride spreading through my chest. Despite her young age, Lucy had always been the sensible one. We shared a look, and this time I nodded at her.

“I’m not sure you’ve been listening, Lu,” Peter, almost patronizing, tried to shut her down.

“No, you’re not listening,” Lucy’s anger was felt around the room. “Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch, Peter?” The look she sent him was harsh but true. We had fought many battles without Aslan by our side, yet this time, the risk was different. Peter wanted to attack and siege an active castle with our reduced number of troops, with an even smaller number of resources and supplies. We would only have one chance, and anybody could see we were not prepared for that.

“I think we’ve waited for Aslan long enough,” Peter turned around to face Glenstorm again, finishing his conversation with Lucy.

“There’s always another way,” it was me who finally spoke. Everybody was now looking at me, Caspian’s thankful eyes fixed on me. My voice was grave, stronger than it had ever been. My armor was by no means magical, but I was indeed fearless in it. As soon as I put it on I had stopped being the silent teenager I had been before and was back to being a warrior – the Silver Knight.

“And as I said, we can’t keep waiting on Aslan. We need to act now,” Peter had stopped dead in his tracks, now standing before me. His eyes searched my own as if he were trying to share his reason with me.

I kept sitting down on my trunk, not even bothering to stand up. I knew that once Peter had something in mind, there was no stopping him from getting it. “Look, we both know we lack numbers. Waiting here isn’t an option, either. But what you plan right now is a suicide mission,” I tried to reason with him.

“I told you, most of their soldiers are on the river, we need to attack when no one’s defending the castle!” Peter raised his voice, pouring all of his frustration on me. It wasn’t the first time he did that, but it always hurt being yelled at by your best friend, who casually happened to be your king, too.

“Peter,” my anger was rising as well, “don’t be stupid. Do you really think somebody like Miraz would leave his castle unattended?” I stood up from the trunk, stepping closer to him. Some of the closer Narnians stepped back, as if giving us enough space to fight, and hopefully not get caught in the crossfire. “Look what they did to Cair Paravel centuries ago. Don’t you think they would have bettered their tactics after all these years? He willingly ordered to kill his own nephew, for Aslan’s sake! There is no way Miraz would be that dumb to center his strength on a freaking bridge knowing Caspian is out here plotting his death with us,” I was almost yelling at that point.

Peter was almost shocked at my outburst. “So you’re taking his side, too?” he vilely pointed at Caspian, envy oozing from him. “You’re my right hand, for Aslan’s sake, you are better than this!” Peter was on my face now.

I scoffed. “You are better than this, Peter,” my words were laced in venom. “Someone who has actually lived there is telling you your plan is futile, yet you’re here acting all child-like sending the same people you swore to protect to certain death,” I pressed my finger against his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat thumping on his ribcage. “Stop trying to prove you’re a ruler and fucking be one, Peter Pevensie,” I almost whispered, yet my frowning eyebrows were hard on his face. “You’re no better than Miraz if you ignore the danger.” I was about to leave the room, who was dead silent watching our fight.

“You either stand with me or against me,” Peter said, his back turned to me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and bitterly laughed, looking over my shoulder back at him. “Is that a threat?” I asked. I could feel my cheeks red in anger.

“Will you stand next to your king, as you swore, or will you betray Narnia?” He called out loud, his voice now bouncing off the walls in a faint echo. It was suddenly only the two of us in the room, two kids yelling at each other in frustration.

“Do I have a choice?” I shook my head in disbelief, suddenly not recognizing the blond boy behind me.

“You tell me,” Peter answered, fully looking at me. We were both ignoring everyone’s eyes on us, but as I was coming down from the high, I realized the position I was in.

I couldn’t actively defy my king without being accused of treason. I couldn’t leave my best friend behind to die if I had a way to protect him. I couldn’t let him make the biggest mistake of his life due to arrogance.

I shook my head once more as I walked to the exit. “I liked you better when you were a whiny kid,” I walked up the stairs that led to the exit before turning completely to the room. Once again, all the eyes were on me. I caught Caspian’s eyes, who looked at me rather pitifully. He understood my decision even before I could muster the words. I exhaled softly, before calling. “Narnians, prepare for battle.”

“Thank you,” a soft voice spoke behind me. I had been sitting on the edge of the lookout port, staring at the stars as the Narnians below me prepared their horses and weapons for the attack. Edmund was guiding the gryphons that would take Peter, Susan, Edmund, Caspian, Trumpkin, and I into Miraz’s castle. Susan was recharging her quiver, while Peter simply barked orders with Rhindon in his hand, the blade reflecting the moon’s soft silver rays.

Caspian stood next to me, a respectful distance away, as he too took in the scene below us. I exhaled, taken away by Caspian’s beauty under the moonlight. “For what, your grace?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the little peace I would be having that night.

“For standing up for me. I mean, maybe it wasn’t your intention, but you made me feel less alone. Like somebody understood my concerns,” Caspian answered, also whispering.

My cheeks hurt from the heat in them, and thankfully it was dark enough to conceal their color. “He’s making a mistake, your grace. A mistake that’s gonna get us killed,” I fixed my eyes on him. As if on cue, Peter turned around as if he could sense my hard eyes on him, but did not look up to our position. He shrugged it off and continued going over the plan with Glenstorm.

“Please, just call me Caspian,” he pleaded with a small smile on his lips. I nodded in agreement, yet remained silent. “Is he always so hard on you?” Caspian softly asked, imperceptibly stepping closer to me. His worried tone lulled my sore throat as if it were sweet honey.

I shook my head. “He’s just being a pain in the ass,” I explained. Despite my anger, I still knew the boy pretty well. “He feels like he’s lost control and he doesn’t like that. He’s proving to himself he can still be a king.”

Caspian looked at me for a couple of seconds in silence. I met his stare, and once again I felt my breath hitch. His face was illuminated by the moon, making him almost angelic. For a few seconds, he was only a boy, wanting to do right only not knowing how, seeking refuge with people he only heard about in legends. There was a fire in his eyes too, similar to Peter’s. Both men were more alike than they thought.

“For the record,” Caspian said. “I think he’s being an idiot,” he looked down at him. “We all make mistakes, sure, but I still wouldn’t treat my partner like garbage just to prove a point,” his words were almost pained, insecure. I widened my eyes, and almost choked on my saliva. I coughed violently at the thought. Caspian, worried, approached me quickly, patting me on the back as I tried to catch my breath. “Oh, Lord, are you alright? Pardon my intromission, my lady, I just…” I cut him off with a laugh.

“No, no, don’t fret, it’s just,” I exhaled loudly, calming down before talking again. “Partner? Me? Oh, Aslan, no, no, nobody is courting anybody here,” I said, using words Caspian would understand.

There was relief in his eyes, only this time he did not even try to hide it. “Oh, well, pardon me again, my lady, for my indecency,” Caspian was no longer touching me, yet he did not pull away completely. His smile was pretty visible, too.

I smirked at him, almost cockily. “There’s nothing to pardon,” I shook my head again. I grimaced at the thought once more, then quickly deleted that from my mind. “In all seriousness,” I continued, “Peter and I are just friends. Best friends, even. We have been through so much together, and we know each other like the back of our hands, but, believe me, we wouldn’t be a good match,” I explained. Caspian nodded carefully at my words, almost tasting each one. “Besides,” I added, this time in a softer tone, “I’m not a lady. I’m a knight. Knights don’t get to marry royalty.”

I was sure Caspian caught my shoulders slouching. “Maybe, as a king, I could change that,” he didn’t look at me. He didn’t dare to.

“Trust me, I’ve seen the true cruelty of the Court. Nobody would be exempt, not even a king,” I reasoned with him, although I wasn’t sure where our conversation was headed anymore.

Caspian looked at me intently. “Trust me, I know. After my father died and my uncle ruled in his name… I heard all sorts of things,” he had a sad glow on his face. Something in my mind was screaming at me to take his sadness away.

“Well, not only I’m not a proper lady, but I’m a knight in pants. Just imagine all the comments and looks I had to endure during the years,” I smiled sadly, recalling all the names, laughs, and comments. “Plus, my friendship with the Kings? I’m pretty sure everybody thinks I had been courted by them at some point,” I sighed, my shoulders slouching even more. “I’d like to believe I had set an example for young girls to come, but I see was wrong,” I caught sight of Nikabrik below, who only talked to Edmund and Peter, ignoring Susan’s orders completely. His earlier comments still resonated in my brain.

Caspian, almost shy, nudged my shoulder with his, suddenly very aware of the improper distance between us. “Trust me, you did set an example,” his words made me turn to him completely. “I grew up fantasizing about you. Your strength, your courage, your loyalty. Even my father knew about you. Every single sword-fighting lesson would be spent pretending to be you,” his eyes were shining. “History may have altered your name, but you are still the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.”

Once again I thanked Aslan for the darkness surrounding us, for Caspian couldn’t see how much my body was burning with his statement. I was at a loss for words, for it truly was the first time someone had looked at me for who I truly was, and not who they thought I was.

I was about to say something back when Lucy appeared behind us. “Peter is calling for you both,” she stopped when she took sight of us, sitting close to each other, our fingertips almost touching. She smirked mischievously. “I don’t think you should make him wait. See you downstairs!” she happily chirped as she left us alone once more.

I guiltily stared at Caspian, who wore a similar face. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds before we both started to get up. Caspian held out his hand out to me, and though I did not need help, I took it anyways. Both of our hands were ungloved, and the touch of his skin on mine set a huge bonfire alight inside of me. His skin was soft, barely tarnished, only a few superficial scars adorning it. Mine was back to how it was before Narnia, all the battle scars faded from my skin except for that one on my neck, where the White Witch had almost successfully killed me. We pulled away reluctantly as if we couldn't physically get away from each other. I felt the electricity running through my fingertips as we pulled away, hurrying down to where Peter was impatiently waiting for us.

“Where were you?” he asked us, despite having his gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, the good mood Caspian had managed to put me in disappearing in an instant. “Getting ready,” I replied with a short nod, walking towards my gryphon and securing my weapons, only to have something else to focus on rather than Peter’s anger and Caspian’s worshiping gaze.

“Remember to stick to the plan,” Peter’s only words for us were those before he retreated to talk to Susan.

“He’s more moody than usual,” Edmund suddenly spoke. I realized how much I had missed his company, giving him a quick side hug in appreciation. He hugged me back, rather indecisively, yet didn’t pull away.

My head was on his shoulder when I answered. “I have a bad feeling about this,” I confessed, although he could perfectly sense it too. I felt him nod when Peter ordered everyone to initiate the attack.

“If it all goes south, you know I’ll be with you,” Edmund said, and I knew he meant it. We had a bit of a habit of sharing near-death experiences at the same time.

I laughed at his words and smiled softly at the boy. He had once again grown taller, but he still conveyed the same boyish grin I learned to love about him.

“Do you have enough arrows?” Susan suddenly appeared next to us, checking my own quiver, smaller than hers, yet just as deadly.

I nodded. “I think so. Yours?” I repeated the words, thinking back to our exact conversation the first time we fought together.

She grinned at me. “I think so.” She too hugged me, the tension leaving my chest.

After the fight with Peter, I had not dared look at anybody. I didn’t know if I was embarrassed, angry, frustrated, or sad, but I couldn’t face anyone. That had been why I had retreated to the vacant lookout post, quickly polishing my weapons and fixing my armor for the battle about to unfold.

“Be careful, please,” Lucy ran to me and hugged me tightly, closing her eyes in the process. I bent down and kissed her on her forehead, our little ‘good-luck-ritual,’ but didn’t let go. We both needed each other.

“May Aslan protect us all,” I answered, the Narnian way to ward off evil and invoke protection. We smiled at each other before I turned around and walked to the front of the army, where the rest of the Pevensies and Caspian stood next to their gryphons. I quickly winked at him, catching him by surprise, and a slight smile danced on my lips as he cleared his throat in embarrassment. It took everything in my power not to laugh, but by that point, I knew I was crushing hard on the raven-haired prince.

The gryphons took a hold of us and together we soared to the sky, heading to Miraz’s castle while the rest of our army followed us by foot. Lucy and the healers stayed behind at the refuge, worried eyes praying for our safety. I too prayed for Aslan’s help, as I had done countless times before. I wasn’t even sure what exactly I was praying for, but I kept my eyes closed, simply asking for things to go our way.

Aslan, was I wrong.

Next chapter

#prince caspian x reader #prince caspian #ben barnes x reader #narnia fanfiction #narnia #prince caspian movie #prince caspian fanfiction #ben barnes #bin bons #chronicles of narnia #prince caspian x you #prince caspian x y/n #narnia imagines

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