Summary: When Steve is dragged along to a tense dinner with his parents, he meets you, the only thing that gets him through the night.
Content: Steve’s dad is an asshole, dysfunctional family, waitress!reader, sunshine!reader, set in between s3 and s4, reader is implied to have shitty parents, not proofread, fluff at the end.
Authors notes: debated writing a Steve fic for the longest time but here we are, I’m just too in love with this man and I have so many fic ideas for him, so enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Steve tried to get out of it, he really did.
He said that he had work, that he had promised Mrs Jones he would babysit her son, that he had to look after someone's dog.
But Katherine Harrington took no excuses. She'd tell Steve to cancel his babysitting appointments, and simply said she'd reschedule every time Steve had work.
Soon enough, he realised there was no way of evading it, so he gave in and decided to get it over and done with.
Steve's parents were rarely home, even everyone else around Hawkins knew this. They were always on business trips, leaving Steve alone in their big, lonely house. Steve grew used to it, actually preferring it when they were gone, because the air grew awkward whenever they were around, and Steve always had to find a way to go out just so he could escape it.
For some reason, his mother, Katherine, seemed to have had enough of the awkwardness, and demanded that she, Steve, and his father have a family dinner.
What made it even worse was that she had made a whole reservation at Enzo's, which was a very hard place to book at. People had to book months beforehand to even get a reservation, so he had no idea how his mom had done it on such a short notice, but he was annoyed that she did.
Now he was sitting across from his parents, purposely keeping his gaze on the menu even though he had already figured out what he wanted to get. The table was illuminated with a candle placed in the centre, casting a warm glow, a stark contrast to the coldness between the three of them.
They hadn't even ordered yet, and Steve was already ready to leave.
"Good evening! Sorry for the wait, we had a small delay in the back."
Steve looked up, and did a double take.
A wide smile adorned your face, your eyes bright as you beamed around the table. You wore a short-sleeved black dress, with white buttons down the middle and a white collar, clearly your waitress uniform. Your hair was tied up into a style that suit you perfectly, your hands tucked behind your back like you were cheekily hiding something.
Steve didn't know why, but his heart skipped a beat, and when your eyes met his for only a split second, it quickened.
"Are we all ready to order?" You asked.
Katherine looked at Steve who nodded, and then at Daniel Harrington, who made sure to sigh before placing his menu down. It was obvious he didn't want to be here as well.
Katherine gave her order first, smiling politely at your cheerful tone. Then Dan ordered with a monotone voice, not caring for your friendliness.
When you turned to Steve expectantly, a flush creeped up his neck, and he hoped to God you couldn’t see it. He didn’t even know why he was acting like this. He had seen plenty of pretty girls in his lifetime, so why were you making him sweat just by asking what food he wanted?
“Can I please have the Chicken Vesuvio?” Steve said, immensely grateful that his voice was steady.
“Good choice,” you winked, writing his order down on your little notepad, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat again.
When you walked away, Steve watched, and he almost frowned when he could no longer see your face. Perhaps he was just desperate for anything interesting while he had this stupid dinner with his parents he barely talked to. He could appreciate his mother’s efforts on paper, but he really didn’t know why she thought this was going to fix anything.
The table fell into an awkward silence as no one looked at each other, and Steve started brainstorming for an excuse to leave early.
“So, how’s your job going, Steve?” Katherine asked, and Steve was annoyed that he was the first target.
“It’s steady,” Steve answered, because there was nothing else really to say. Family Video was different from Scoops Ahoy, not as busy, and the quiet days that dragged on did drive him insane, but he generally didn’t mind it.
“So you’d prefer steady over college?” Dan remarked coldly, arching an eyebrow.
The air shifted, and Steve’s jaw tightened. He’d already heard enough about how much of a disappointment he was to his father, and he didn’t want to hear about it right now.
“Danny, don’t,” said Katherine sharply. “This is a family dinner.”
“Sure doesn’t feel like it,” Steve murmured.
“What was that?” Dan asked, inquiring Steve with an intimidating stare.
“Nothing,” said Steve, rolling his eyes.
Dan suddenly pointed a finger at him, saying sternly, “don’t roll your eyes at me. You don’t got enough accomplishments for me to be proud of you to be doing that.”
“Dan!” Katherine gasped.
“Jesus Christ, you need to stop ordering me around like I’m still a kid,” said Steve in exasperation. “I can do whatever the hell I want?”
Dan’s nostrils flared. “Yeah? Is that so? You’re a big adult now who doesn’t need his parents?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” said Steve defiantly.
“Then you should stop taking your time and move out,” Dan snapped.
“Daniel, that’s enough!” Katherine exclaimed, causing a few heads to turn in her direction. She lowered her voice, “there is no place of any of this tonight. We are supposed to be enjoying ourselves.”
“Hard to do so with my failure of a son around,” Dan scoffed.
Despite how many times he had heard it, it was still like a punch to Steve’s gut every time.
Someone cleared their throat, and when Steve looked over, mortification flooded him at once as he found you standing there, holding two plates of hot food.
“Um, the Porchetta and Skirt Steak Saltimbocca?” You named the dishes you were holding tentatively, sensing the tension.
Steve didn’t dare to look at you as you gave his parents their food. He knew that if he did, you would probably be holding a look of pity, and that was the last thing he needed. He wondered how long you had been standing there, and his embarrassment strengthened the more that he thought about it.
He was simultaneously relieved and disappointed when you walked away. Even though you hadn’t been beaming anymore, your presence still made the night more tolerable, even slightly. Now that you were gone, his parents would drop the polite facade, and the arguing would start again.
“I am not asking for much!” Said Katherine heatedly, looking between Steve and his dad. “Just one pleasant family dinner. You two don’t even need to talk to each other if that will keep the peace, just…”
“I don’t see how doing this helps any of us,” said Steve with an edge to his voice.
“I want all of us to be reminded that we’re a family. That we all love each other,” said Katherine firmly.
Dan actually let out a laugh at the absurdity of it, and Katherine glared at it.
“Why do you always have to be like this? You make a comment, and then everyone is uncomfortable,” Katherine snapped at him.
“Oh, so this is my fault? You’re the one who dragged all of us out tonight against our will. You’re the only one who wants this,” Dan shot back.
Steve sighed as his parents argued, resting his elbows on the table as he rubbed his temples. This was a disaster that he had seen coming from a mile away. He didn’t know how his parents tolerated each other on the business trips they were always on. He wasn’t sure if he had ever heard them agree about anything.
“Son, tell me, is this my fault?” Dan demanded, turning to Steve as if his answer would solve the whole argument.
“Leave him out of this,” said Katherine with annoyance.
“No, let him answer the question. Is tonight my fault, or hers?” Dan asked firmly, fixing Steve with a menacing stare, as if the wrong answer would be his doom.
“I…” Steve’s gaze flicked between his mom and dad, and the strong urge to leave washed over him. He felt like a little kid again, where his dad would always try to force him to take a side while his mom would tell him not to answer. He felt so small, and he hated it, he hated it so much. After all that he had been through, he refused to feel like this.
“Answer the damn question-”
“A Chicken Vesuvio for the young man?” Your voice came loudly, and Steve looked up instantaneously, relief washing over him at your presence.
“Yes. Thank you,” he said breathlessly, staring at you as you placed his plate of food in front of him.
You looked at him, and smiled. It wasn’t sympathetic, it wasn’t pitiful, it wasn’t even sad. It was just a normal, warm smile with kindness radiating from it, meant for him and him only, and Steve’s chest warmed.
“Enjoy your meal,” you said softly, gazing into your eyes as you said it. The warmth left your eyes as you glanced at Dan, frowning a little with distaste before walking away.
This time, you looked over your shoulder to find Steve looking right back at you.
The table fell silent again, the tension thick and heavy in the air, capable of being sliced straight through with a knife. Steve poked at his food, finding that he had lost his appetite a long time ago. He realised he needed a break.
He excused himself to the bathroom, and didn’t look at either of his parents as he briskly walked away from the table. He didn’t go to the bathroom, instead taking a door that led him outside into an alleyway beside the building.
Steve let out a breath he had been holding in as he leaned his back against the building, savouring the fresh air that wasn’t poisoned with the toxicity of his parents. He didn’t know what his mom meant by all of them loving each other, because that just wasn’t true. Dan and Katherine sure didn’t love each other, and Steve didn’t think he and Dan loved each other like a father and a son were supposed to. Maybe Katherine and Steve loved each other, but they still struggled to hold a conversation, so it didn’t matter.
Steve had quit smoking, and hadn’t craved a cigarette for a while. But God, what he would do right now to get his hands on one…
He jumped as the door opened again, and his head whirled around as you stepped out, holding a rubbish bag. You didn’t see him at first, busying yourself by walking over to one of the bins, and dumping the bag into there. You finally saw him when you turned around, and you let out a squeak of surprise.
Despite the shitty night he was having, Steve smiled at your reaction.
“Oh, hi,” you said, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t realise you were out here.”
“Sorry, am I not allowed?” Steve asked sincerely.
“No, you’re okay! I’m guessing that you needed a getaway from…”
“From the train wreck that is my family? Yeah?” Said Steve with a dry chuckle.
“I don’t blame you,” you said without thinking, and winced, “sorry.”
“Don’t be, you’re right,” Steve sighed.
You pressed your lips together, and Steve gazed at you, like he had done every time you were in his sight. You seemed to be around his age, but he found you unfamiliar, which was strange since Hawkins was a small town where everyone knew everyone. Especially since he worked at Family Video, he would regularly see people your age come in to rent movies and such.
“I’m Steve,” he said out of nowhere, and cringed a bit. God, he must’ve sounded desperate.
But you only smiled earnestly, telling him your own name, and even that was pretty. “Sorry about your parents, Steve.”
“Yeah, well, I wish I could say I’m surprised by their behaviour, but I’m not,” said Steve.
You leaned against the wall beside him. “At least you know what to expect, right?”
Steve blinked, tilting his head slightly at you. “Yeah. Y’know, I don’t find you familiar. How long have you been living in Hawkins?”
“Not long,” you said with a shy chuckle, and he found it cute. “I’ve recently moved here, and I’m still trying to find my way around, y’know. Enzo’s pays enough, so…”
“Huh,” said Steve. That made sense, you were now. That was probably why when you smiled, it looked genuine and not tired. He hoped Hawkins didn’t plan to drain the life out of you. “You live with your parents?”
“Uh, no, and it’s better off that way,” you said, and Steve perked up curiously. “Kinda moved here to get away from them.”
Steve stared at you. So you must’ve understood what it was like.
“All of that, at your table… I kinda get it,” you said, giving him a soft smile. “It sucks, but I think once you get away from it, it becomes better. My life is a whole lot easier already, even if I now have to pay rent and buy groceries with my own money.”
Steve laughed, and he didn’t know why, but he did, and you laughed as well, seeming pleased at the smile you were getting out of him.
“Think I’ll move out soon,” said Steve. “Dad wants me to.”
“Whether you do or not, screw him,” you said, and he looked at you in surprise, but you didn’t seem to regret it. “He’s obviously not a good father, and that’s on him, not you.”
Steve’s heart fluttered, his breath catching slightly. No one told him things like that. All he ever heard about was that it was his fault, how he should’ve done things better, how he should’ve tried better. But you… you didn’t look at him like he was to blame, and that meant more than Steve realised it would’ve.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
“No problem,” you said warmly. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment before you pushed yourself off the wall, brushing invisible dirt off your skirt. “Well, I should head back inside. I am getting paid for this, you know.”
Steve snorted, and you smiled cheekily.
“Good luck, Steve,” you said sincerely, and you turned around too quickly, heading for the door.
Watching you move, Steve realised he didn’t want to lose this.
He said your name hurriedly just as your hand brushed the door, and you looked at him, raising your eyebrows slightly as you waited patiently for what he had to say.
“Can I get your number?” Steve asked. “Just- y’know, not in a weird way, not that it’d be weird if- well, you might need someone to show you around, and I’d be happy to do that. I’m quite an expert, y’know.”
God, he used to be good at this. How had he come to this?
His heart lifted as a grin spread on your face, happiness filling your eyes.
“I’ll give it to you later,” you said, winking at him before you opened the door, and disappeared, leaving Steve in the night.
At the end of the night, Steve left with a lighter wallet, having tipped you generously, and a napkin with your number scribbled on it.
Summary: Peter forgets your birthday, and does everything he can to make it up to you.
Content: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, no use of Y/N, kinda cheesy, use of nicknames “baby” and “honey”, readers age is unspecified but she’s old enough to have her own apartment, any variation of peter parker can be imagined for this but I did take inspiration from andrew garfields for one scene, lmk if i missed any!
Authors notes: wrote this in honour of my birthday today! Def something wrong with me since I decided to write an angsty fic for it but I hope you enjoy it as much I did writing it!
Word Count: 5.4k
It had been one of the most busiest days in New York City regarding crime, and that said a lot when it came from Peter Parker who had been Spider-Man for a while now. From the moment he had opened his eyes, he had been hearing the police constantly reporting all sorts of crimes on the police scanner he had modified on his phone.
He was lucky it was the weekend, which meant he didn't have to call in sick to work for the millionth time. They were starting to get suspicious of him now, and he knew he really couldn't afford to lose his job. Even as a superhero, he still struggled to make ends meet.
It was late at night by the time Peter returned to his apartment, finally being able to change out of his spandex suit he had been wearing all day. He took a long, warm shower, soothing the blooming bruises on his skin and washing his flattened hair. He left his small bathroom wearing only sweatpants, his towel draped around his neck as he flopped onto his bed, groaning as he relaxed his limbs for the first time that day.
He reached over to grab his phone on his bedside table, where he had accidentally left it before leaving to go defend the city from criminals. He had known it was a stupid thing to do, and he had intended to come back to his apartment to grab it multiple times during the day, but every time he had started to head back, he would see another kid walking onto the busy streets with no supervision, or another old lady who had her purse being stolen from her, and he simply had to go help them instead, further stalling the return to his apartment.
He frowned at his phone as the screen lit up, revealing multiple missed calls from you.
You, his beautiful, amazing girlfriend who he loved so much, who he thought was way too good for him, who he was lucky enough to have in his life. You had been dating for almost two years now, and without you, Peter's life surely would've been much more unbearable. He would have thought more about you today if he hadn't always been so occupied with fighting off multiple guys who had no chance on him, but there was always that sinking feeling in his stomach every time he was out being Spider-man, the feeling of missing you and craving your presence.
Peter grew concerned immediately upon seeing your missed calls, unlocking his phone to see that they had started at nine o'clock in the morning. It was now nearly eleven o'clock at night. His heart dropped, and he scrambled to call you back, pressing the phone to his ear as he swung his legs over to sit on the edge of his bed, one of his legs bouncing with anxiety.
His eyebrows drew together as the call went straight to voicemail, pulling the phone back to frown at the screen. Panic washed over him in a strong wave, horrible thoughts and scenarios racing through his mind.
Were you okay? Had something happened to you? Had you tried to call him, your superhero boyfriend whose identity you knew about, to come and save you because that was what he was supposed to? There had been so much crime happening today, and it could've reached you as well.
He swore to himself as he jumped to his feet, heart pounding in his chest as he ran over to grab his Spider-Man suit, about to pull down his sweatpants until he noticed the date on his phone.
The fucking date.
"No. No, no, no," Peter murmured, a different kind of panic rising in him as he rushed over to his cabinets, searching for a fresh shirt now.
He tossed his phone onto his bed, guilt immediately clawing at his chest as he threw on a T-shirt. He fell over while putting his shoes on hastily, his movements uncoordinated as he grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, locking it behind him.
He raced to the rooftop, and without caring if anyone saw him or not, he jumped from building to building without stopping, having to use his webs once to swing across the street, all with the intention of getting to your apartment building as quickly as possible.
He didn't waste time in barging through the door leading downstairs once he made it to the rooftop of your building, descending the stairs in a flash, his feet moving faster than his mind.
He panted heavily as he made it to your closed door, taking a moment to catch his breath before he knocked on it rapidly. He waited a minute with no response, and knocked again before saying your name, "it's me, Peter."
No response again, and the silence you gave him this time felt glaringly louder. Which, he knew you were on the other side of the door, because he could sense you thanks to his heightened senses.
He sighed, pressing his forehead against the door. "I'm so sorry, honey, can we please just talk? I just had this crazy day, and I know it doesn't make it right-"
Peter nearly fell forward when the door abruptly swung open, revealing your glowering figure with one hand on your hip.
"You're damn right it doesn't make it right, and don't you honey me," you snapped, and Peter swallowed, the guilt increasing tenfold as he took in your appearance.
Even though you radiated fury, he could still see your glassy, bloodshot eyes, the sadness that swirled in them, indicating that you had been crying. Peter's heart nearly shattered. He hated seeing you like this, especially since it was because of him now.
"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, his voice on the verge of breaking. He reached out for you, "please-"
You slapped his hands away from you, your nostrils flaring. "You know, a text wouldn't have hurt. Just a little happy birthday would've made me feel good, and when you didn't say anything, I excused it. I thought, you are Spider-Man after all, the work never really stops for you. But we had plans, Peter, and for you to not even warn me was really shitty. No text, no call, nothing. I just sat there, waiting for you like an idiot, thinking that there was no way my own boyfriend would stand me up, but then he did. On my fucking birthday."
Peter felt like he had been slapped, and he deserved it. Your voice broke, and you looked away, seemingly hiding your teary eyes from him even though he had already seen it. His heart ached, and he so desperately wanted to pull you into his warms, to apologise profusely into your ear and kiss your forehead, to tell you how much he loved you and how much of an idiot he was.
But he knew you wouldn't allow it, not now. Not when he had hurt you so much.
"I feel horrible baby, I'm so sorry," Peter almost whispered, tears welling up in his own eyes. "It's not fair to you, not at all. I was out all day, and I accidentally left my phone in my apartment, and I had no opportunity to grab it, because everything else kept pulling me away. I know it's no excuse, but you at least deserve an explanation. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I really am."
"So you really couldn't just find a second to grab your phone and send me a quick text? If you had just told me how crazy it all was, I would have seen it coming! I would have made other plans!" You exclaimed. "But instead I wasted hours on my birthday I should've been celebrating, because I was waiting for you, all because you couldn't take a second out of your day to let me know what was happening."
Peter ran a hand through his hair, taking a step closer, now standing in your doorway. His chest tightened at the way you took a step back at the same time, as if he was poisonous.
"And I'm so sorry, I didn't want to do that to you. I didn't mean to, and I hate myself for it," he said, voice wound tight as he held back the urge to touch you, to wipe away the singular tear rolling down your cheek.
"Well, good job, Pete. Best birthday of my life," you said sarcastically, scoffing.
"Let me make it up to you. I'll take you out, I'll spend the rest of the night with you, I'll-"
"Barely any shops would be open by now, Peter! And there's only like an hour left of my birthday, so it doesn't even matter anymore!"
"Then I'll spend the whole day with you tomorrow, and I'll do whatever you want-"
"No," you said sharply, and he almost flinched. "I don't think I can be around you right now. I need space, Peter."
"No, please," Peter begged, his voice finally breaking. "Please let me fix this, let me make it up to you. I'll show you how sorry I am, I'll do anything."
"Then you'll leave me alone for as long as I need it. I'm not breaking up with you or anything, I just... I need space," you repeated, emphasising it.
Peter stared at you as if you had just told him the world was about to end, and you gently pushed back by his chest so that you could safely close your door.
"You're just too late, Peter," you said quietly, the anger now having seeped out of your features, and the look in your eyes nearly broke Peter as you slammed the door in his face.
Peter's chest heaved as he stared at the wood of your door, and he swore under his breath, forehead falling onto the door again as he closed his eyes.
"I love you," he whispered.
He didn't hear your voice again for the rest of the night.
***
You didn't speak to Peter a week afterwards, and in that meantime, he had been drowning in guilt.
It didn't matter how much he explained himself to you, it would still make what he had done terrible all the same. The thought of you sitting alone for hours, waiting for him and expecting him to show up all on your own birthday made him sick. Birthdays were meant to be spent celebrating with the people you loved, not waiting alone while being under the impression that your boyfriend would come pick you up for your plans, only to be stood up by him.
Peter had seriously hated being Spider-Man before, but nothing could compare to the loathing he had for his double life now. His superhero duties had caused him to miss out on your dates before, but in the past, he had never failed to call you beforehand to tell you with sadness how he couldn't come. He had never forgotten and actually stood you up before.
Peter didn't know where he would be without you. From the moment you had found out he was Spider-Man, you had been there ever since. You had stitched him up after bad fights, you had comforted him in his times of guilt when there were people he hadn't been able to save. You had never let him down, and now he had hurt you in return.
You had said that you weren't breaking up, that you only needed space, but Peter's heart hurt enough that it felt like that's what it had been, a break-up. He couldn't get the image of your heartbroken expression out of his head, couldn't forget your red rimmed eyes and the obvious implications that you had been crying because of him.
He wished he knew how to make it truly better, how to mend the pain he had caused you that day. But it was nothing that could be fixed with a simple kiss, he knew that. He had been the one who had brought up the plans to you, his idea to pick you up and give you the night of your life on your birthday. You had been so excited for it, asking him excitedly what you should wear and what exactly you were going to do.
And he had burned all of that down, with only himself to blame.
Peter obeyed your wishes with the distance; not coming over to your apartment to beg you to talk, resisting the urge to bump into you on your lunch break during the week just to plead with you once again. He could see you walking around the city sometimes as Spider-Man, and he would discreetly follow you — not because he was being creepy, but because he wanted to make sure you made it to your destination safely, and also because he missed you. You would probably kill him if you knew, so it was a good thing you never noticed him.
However, he still texted you even when you never answered. He would send through a simple hi, watching the screen to see if you would reply, if it would even show you typing. Sometimes he would say that he was sorry, that he missed you, and in his worst hours, he would tell you how much he loved you.
You left him on read every time.
He didn't dare try to call you. He knew that was another line that he wasn't supposed to cross, but it didn't mean he still didn't consider it.
Peter felt, and probably looked miserable as he walked through the streets of New York as a normal civilian. It was the weekend once again, meaning he had a day off work, and this time his day was quiet, the modified police scanner on his phone significantly quieter than last week. It pissed him off, because why couldn't it have been this quiet last week? Why had all of the criminals in New York decided to go crazy on your birthday?
He spotted the coffee shop he usually visited every weekend, weekends he would spend with you, hand laced with yours while you would walk through the streets together. You would pull him into the coffee shop which was your personal favourite, and after you took your order, you both liked to fight over who would pay for it. In the end, Peter would always end up winning, ruffling your hair and kissing your cheek to soothe the little irritated pout on your face that had no real bite to it.
He wondered if you had already collected your usual coffee today, without him.
As if summoning you, Peter halted in his tracks as lo and behold, you walked out of the shop, coffee cup in hand as the wind blew through your hair, framing you like you were a model.
Peter's heart skipped a beat, and it almost felt like he was seeing you for the first time again.
You took a sip of your coffee, and then turned your head towards him like you had sensed him. You locked eyes, and he watched the way your face fell, something sad passing over your face as you stared at him.
When you turned away, Peter couldn't stop himself from sprinting to you, all too easy to catch up to you with his impeccable speed thanks to the spider that had bit him. He called your name as he came to a halt behind you, and you stopped, your shoulders moving as if you were sighing before you slowly turned to him.
"Hey," was all he could say, slightly breathless.
"Hi," you said flatly, unimpressed.
He swallowed, already wanting to fall to his knees to prove how sorry he was, but you probably wouldn't appreciate that anyway.
"Can we talk?" He asked softly.
"Seems like we're talking right now," you said dryly.
"Right, yeah, well..." Peter scratched his neck. He hadn't expected to run into you today, but he had gone over the scenario multiple times in his mind, planning exactly what he would say. Now that he was actually face-to-face with you, his mind went blank, and he was at a complete loss. So he went for, "I miss you."
Something vulnerable flickered in your eyes, and you looked down as you said quietly, "yeah, I saw your texts."
"If you need more space, then I completely respect that, but this is killing me baby," Peter said desperately. "It's been a whole week without you, and I feel like shit. I know I deserve it, but not being around you is the worst. I just wanna make it up to you."
You still stared down at your feet as you said honestly, "I want you to make it up to me too, Peter, but I don't know how you can," you looked up, a sigh leaving you. "Maybe if it had been any ordinary day, I would've gotten over it by now, but on my birthday? I just can't forget that."
"I know, I know," he said understandingly. "It was so shitty of you, and you were right about it all, I should've at least told you I couldn't make it so that you could've figured out something else to do with your night instead of waiting for me. I hate that I disappointed you like that."
You took another sip of your coffee, your expression grim as you still didn't look at him.
"But we can take it step by step, yeah?" Peter suggested hopefully. "I'll do everything I can, I'll take you out on a million dates for that one night, and I'll buy you whatever you want even if it drains my savings."
He felt a flicker of triumph in his chest as the corners of your lips twitched upwards. He took a step forward, and you didn't push him back this time, finally looking at him.
"I'm so sorry for everything. For forgetting your birthday and standing you up," he said quietly, cupping one of your cheeks with his hand, gazing into your eyes. "I won't ever do that again, and I swear I'll make it up to you.”
Peter thought he had convinced you, but then your eyebrows furrowed, and you took a step back, his hand falling from your cheek.
"You fully forgot it?" You said in disbelief. "Like- you just woke up and didn't realise it was my birthday?"
Peter blinked. "Well- yeah. Didn't you know?"
You scoffed. "No, I didn't know! I thought you only forgot our date, not my actual birthday."
Peter's heart dropped. "If I had realised it was your birthday, I wouldn't have forgotten the date."
"Oh my god, I'm so stupid," you murmured, pressing a hand to your face.
Peter's mind raced with panic. Shit, shit, shit. Had he just made it even worse?
"You're not stupid, I am. I'm so sorry, I thought-"
"I should go," you said, dropping your hand and turning away from him, shaking your hand.
"No, wait!" Peter pleaded, grabbing your arm before you could continue. "Please, don't leave me hanging again."
You let out an incredulous laugh, yanking your arm away from him. "You want to talk about leaving people hanging? Because you seem to have become an expert on that."
Peter's heart flinched, your words a blow, worse than the ones he had received by every criminal in the city.
"From the moment I woke up, it was just nonstop, okay? I didn't have a moment to think, and it was so early in the morning when I had to get up. You know I'm not a morning person," Peter hastily explained. "It doesn't excuse it, but I- I didn't mean to, and I hate myself so much for it-”
"How could you forget?" You asked weakly, your pain written all over your face as you looked at him with teary eyes.
Peter opened his mouth, but he was unable to get anything out. You sniffled, turning your head and walking away from him, leaving him alone on the sidewalk surrounded by the bustle of civilians who had problems of their own.
And this time, he let you.
***
You were even more pissed at Peter, that was clear, and he wasn't sure if you would ever forgive him now, but he had found one loophole.
You hadn't exactly said yes to his hundredth offer of making it up to you, but this time, you hadn't said no either, and Peter would be damned if he let you go again without doing anything about it.
The first thing he did wasn't enough to make you forgive all of it, but hopefully sweet enough to make you smile. He started to deliver flowers to your apartment every single day.
He would wake up early in the morning, get dressed as Spider-Man, and buy your favourite flowers from the floral shop that always gave him a discount when he wore the mask. Then, in true Spider-Man fashion, would sneak into your apartment when you weren't there, and set down the flowers with a handwritten note.
He didn't care if it was too cheesy. In fact, he didn't care if you hated it, he didn't plan on stopping. It would be one of his ways to show you how sorry he was, and how determined he was to earn your forgiveness.
After a week of the flowers, he started bringing along your favourite foods as well. Before you had started dating, you had jokingly told him that the way to your heart was through your stomach, and even though that had been two years ago, he hadn't forgotten it. And the thing was with food, was that you could throw away the flowers every time, but you couldn't waste a necessity like food, especially if it was free.
Sometimes, he would neglect to attach the handwritten notes to the gifts, not because he forgot, but because he would run out of time. But then on other mornings, the notes would go from a cheesy little line to a full paragraph about all of the things he loved about you, from the way you got too easily mad over a game when he would beat you, to the way you took care of him after a long day of being Spider-Man.
And through all of this, you had never told him to stop. You never sent a text, or called him to demand that he stop with his antics, that it was getting too much. Peter knew you, and so he knew that if anything, you would have been enjoying all of it despite how much he had hurt you.
So he never stopped. He even looked forward to collecting all of his gifts for you, to getting a glimpse of your apartment every time he dropped them off, even if your absence always haunted him.
It was after three weeks of this that Peter decided to do a big gesture, something that would be a complete hit or miss. You hadn't told him to stop his antics, but you still weren't willingly talking to him, and he was desperate to hear your voice again.
There was also the present he had gotten for your birthday. The one he had bought before he had foolishly forgotten, before he had ruined what was supposed to be an amazing night for you. He needed you to know that he hadn't completely forgotten, that he had been truly set on going through with your plans.
The sun was starting to set when you were chilling in your apartment, lying in bed with a book in hand as the orange hues of the sky outside cast its golden reflection into your place. You felt completely and utterly relaxed, all problems having blissfully left your mind as you basked in the warmth of the light spilling through your windows while you got immersed into the world that your book had pulled you into.
That was until you felt your phone vibrate on your bedside table, breaking you from your trance, and you sighed, reaching over to grab it and see who it was.
Peter with a heart next to his name.
You blinked, not expecting the call to be from him out of all people. Sure, he had been dropping off gifts and sweet notes by your apartment everyday that you hated to admit made you blush and give you butterflies, but you thought he had taken the sign to leave you alone cellular wise.
You contemplated your next move, deciding whether the call would be worth it or not, and you thought about it for so long that your phone rang until it stopped, telling you then that you had a missed call. You sighed, feeling the pang of regret inside you for not having answered it, your decision too late.
Then it started to ring again, and your eyes widened, Peter’s name popping up on your phone once more. You waited ten seconds before picking up, slowly moving it to your ear.
“Hello?” You said tentatively, your heart rate already increasing.
“Hi,” said Peter softly, and you hate how easily your heart melted. As much as he had upset you, you missed him so much. “Sorry to bother you, I know I don’t usually call but… I have something important to show you.”
“Is everything okay?” You asked with genuine concern, thinking that this might’ve been one of his serious situations that he frequently faced being Spider-Man.
“Well, yes, but no, since we’re not talking,” said Peter sheepishly, and your lips twitched against your will. “I just… where are you?”
“In my apartment.”
“Great. Um, do you mind looking out the window?”
Your eyes narrowed with skepticism. “Why?”
“Just trust me,” he said, and the words made your heart do a complicated thing. He didn’t know that even though he had really hurt you, you’d still trust him with your life.
“Okay,” you said softly, marking your book page before closing it, climbing out of your bed as you kept the phone to the ear.
You walked over to the large window in your apartment that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge sat on the East River, a view you had fallen in love with from the moment you had first walked into your apartment.
“Are you looking?” Peter’s voice asked.
“Yeah,” you said. “What am I looking for?”
You heard a small laugh on the other end of the phone. “Are you sure you’re looking hard enough?”
You frowned, about to give him a snappy response until you saw it.
The view of the Brooklyn Bridge in front of you was nothing ordinary as it usually was, not when thin webs were strung up with purpose, the silk of it glistening under the setting sun at certain angles. Your breath hitched as you read what words the webs spelled out.
I LOVE YOU.
“You see it now?” Peter asked, his voice barely registering as you struggled to process the sight in front of you.
“Peter… this was you?” You questioned quietly.
“Of course it was. You know anyone else who can produce webs like that?”
You laughed at the pride in his voice before you could help it, your chest tightening.
“I… that’s too much, Peter,” you said breathlessly. “You could get in trouble for that.”
“What are they gonna do, arrest Spider-Man? And you know how much the police already hate me anyway, what’s a bit of a vandalism?” Said Peter, and you smiled, shaking your head. His voice softened as he said, “can I… come see you? I wanna give you something.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Sure.”
It was only a minute later when Peter’s masked face appeared in front of your window, and you jumped, eyes widening at him.
“Jesus Christ,” you murmured, walking over to unlock a smaller window so that he could climb through, a routine he was used to now with the gifts he delivered to you every morning.
You hung up the call as Peter stood in front of you in your apartment, yanking his mask off as he stared at you, the love palpable in his eyes.
“Hey,” he said.
You smiled weakly. “Hey.”
You moved back over to gaze out at the new view Peter had set up for you, and he followed, his eyes never leaving you.
“I have your birthday gift,” said Peter, and you looked at him in surprise.
“This is my birthday gift?” You asked, gesturing to the bridge.
“No, that’s one of my many apology gifts. Your late birthday gift is in here,” said Peter, shrugging off his backpack and undoing the zip.
You watched in bewilderment as he dug into it, his hand seeming to search for a bit before he pulled a small, square box, dropping his bag.
“I was going to give this to you on our date, but then I was stupid enough to not show up, so here it is now,” said Peter softly, holding it out for you. When you only stared at him in shock, he urged you, “please take it.”
You hesitantly took the box from his hands, wary as you felt up the leather it was made of, and your heart sank as you wondered how much it had cost him.
“Peter-”
“Please just open it,” he pleaded, and you sighed, doing as he said and lifting the lid.
You gasped quietly upon seeing the shiny pearl pendant attached to the silver chain, laid out in the box in a way that told you already that this had come from somewhere important.
“It’s beautiful,” you breathed.
Peter smiled. “Yeah? That’s I thought it would go well with you.”
You bit your lip as heat rushed to your cheeks, sending him a look as you stroked the pearl. “Peter, how much did this cost? It’s clearly good quality, and I don’t want you-”
“Don’t worry about that, okay? I knew what I was doing when I bought this, and I don’t regret it,” said Peter firmly, taking a small step forward. There was a pause before he asked, “do you want help putting it on?”
You nodded slowly. “Yes please.”
You carefully took the necklace from the box, handing the delicate piece to Peter as you turned around, moving your hair aside. Your heart fluttered as his rough fingers brushed your neck, draping the chain around your neck as you lifted your hair to keep it out of the way while he worked the clasp, your skin hypersensitive to every caress of his fingers.
His hands slipped away from your neck once he was done, and you felt hollow without it , your skin burning for his touch that you had missed so dearly.
So you spun around, and grabbed his neck to pull him into a fierce kiss.
Peter froze for a moment before he eased into it, hands landing on your waist like muscle memory, and you sighed, relief washing over you as you pressed your lips into his. You poured all of your angry and hurt emotions into the kiss, the tension slowly leaving your body as you did so.
You were both breathless when you pulled away, and Peter kept his forehead on yours, caressing your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
You pecked his lips once. “I forgive you, Peter. You’ve done more than enough to earn it.”
“I think I did what was required of me. I shouldn’t have done that to you,” said Peter, his eyes swimming with guilt as he gazed into your eyes.
You smiled at him. “You shouldn’t have, but you kept to your word by making it up to me. It’s in the past, and just as long as you never do anything like that again…”
“I won’t,” said Peter quickly.
You chuckled. “Then we’re all good. Thank you for not invalidating me that whole time.”
“Why would I when I was in the wrong?” Said Peter, genuinely confused, and your smile widened. Sometimes you couldn’t believe your boyfriend was real, so perfect in ways that made you almost sure you had made him up.
“I missed you,” you confessed.
Peter softly smiled, kissing your cheek. “I missed you too.”
In your second season out in society, you appear to still have no luck with finding a match, with none of the suitors appealing to you. One night at a masquerade ball almost gives you hope, until you find a familiar face that sends you through a whirlwind of emotions, and an unplanned visit to the past. You navigate your way through the season with unanticipated feelings, and try to figure out what you really want, and if that happens to include a tall, brown-haired man with warm eyes.
Disclaimer: The pictures used in this post or any others are not intended to reflect the reader and are only for purposes of showing an aesthetic. This story is for ALL readers <3
Summary: After witnessing Eddie’s death, Steve is there to hold you when you fall apart.
Content: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, blood and violence mentioned, panic attack, not proofread very well. lmk if I missed any!
Word Count: 1.6k
Requested here
The humidity of the small bathroom simmered lightly on your skin, glass of the shower and the mirror in front of you fogged up from it. When you looked at it, all you could see was a blurred image of your face so that you could barely make out your features. You were grateful for it, you didn't want to see your reflection.
Your gaze was fixed on the sink, specifically zoned in on the tap. The reason for the humidity of the room was because you had just showered. Nancy had guided you in, as you had been too shocked to make it there yourself. She had been willing to stay while you showered, but you had quietly asked to be alone, and she didn't question it, not leaving without reassuring you that she was right there if you needed her.
You didn't know whose house you were currently at. You hoped they didn't struggle with paying the water electricity, for you had a feeling you had just raised the price with the length of your shower. You didn't know how long you had been in there for, but your skin felt raw by the time you had turned it off, so you assumed it hadn't been short.
You slowly lifted your hands to your eyes before you, finding that they were already trembling.
You had just showered, you had just supposedly cleaned yourself, even had gotten changed into clothes, so why were your hands still covered with blood?
Panic rose in your chest, and your breathing became short as you turned on the tap, running your hands under the piercing cold water.
The water going down the drain turned pink, but as you watched closely, your hands weren't getting any cleaner. The blood stayed, like the water wasn't even touching it even as you felt it. You furrowed your eyebrows, your chest starting to heave. Why wouldn't it go away?
Suddenly, memories resurfaced, flashing in your mind as you flinched violently. The blinding red lighting in the sky, the swarm of bats, and...
Eddie.
A sob left you suddenly, and you didn't stop from there. Your whole body shuddered as you recalled what had only happened a few hours ago? Or had it been days? You didn't know, all you knew was that Eddie was gone, and you didn't prevent it when you could have, when you should have.
"No, no," you sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks, the walls starting to close in on you as your fingers slid against each other, slick with blood, his blood.
You stumbled back, back hitting the wall as you fell apart, the fear slamming back into you at full force.
You didn't expect anyone to come, to comfort you. The others had much more important things to worry about, and Dustin needed more comfort than you. He had been the closest to Eddie, and had held him as he died. He was younger, he couldn't handle it alone, but you could.
But suddenly you weren't so sure that you could take it, because this — this was hell. You were back there in that horrible place, in the place where you had watched Eddie lose his life, where you had stood and done nothing.
You only had yourself to blame.
You were so lost in your terror that you didn't notice the door had burst open until a hand laid on your shoulder, causing you to whirl around and let out a scream.
"Hey! Hey, it's just me."
You blinked, brows furrowing as you made out the features of his face.
Steve said your name softly, brown eyes filled with concern and fear for you as he stared at you. "You're safe, okay? I promise, you're safe."
"But..." you could barely speak, your voice choked as your throat constricted.
"Hey, just take your time," said Steve gently, his other hand coming up to brush your hair soothingly. "Breathe, love."
You opened your mouth to say something else, but instead, another sob ripped out of you as you collapsed into Steve's chest, gripping him tightly.
"I'm right here," said Steve hurriedly, making sure you knew it as he held you securely, cradling the back of your head. "I'm here."
It all came flooding out of you, the grief, the terror, the fury you harboured towards yourself, the anger you harboured towards Eddie for being so reckless, for not listening to you, for deciding to be a hero when that hadn’t been needed, when he hadn't realised he had been more than enough either way.
Your legs gave out, and when you sank to the floor, Steve came with you, holding you tighter as he sat on the floor with you. His arms were wrapped around you protectively, and as his heart continued to ache by the sound of your cries, he swore he would never let anything hurt you again. He would protect you with everything in him, even if it killed him.
You gradually started to calm down, the walls no longer closing in as Steve's comforting scent filled your senses, and you breathed it in, savoured the warmth of him. His lips brushed your forehead, one of his hands rubbing your back, and your body slumped against his, exhaustion suddenly washing over you.
"There you are, come back to me," Steve murmured, and you buried your face into his neck, feeling the wound on the tender skin where one of the Demobats had nearly choked him to death. Assholes.
You pulled away, afraid you were hurting him when you noticed your hands. They were clean, bare, without a trace of blood on them.
You had been imagining it.
You felt a hand move your hair out of your face, and you looked up, your neck warming from the tenderness in which Steve looked at you.
"Feeling better?" He asked quietly.
You gave a small shrug. "I s'pose. Not feeling worse."
Steve nodded, still staring at you, and you felt a hot wave of embarrassment and shame crash into you. God, you couldn't believe it, Steve had just witnessed you in your most vulnerable state, and now he never would be able to look at you the same way.
"Jesus, I'm so sorry," you said, grimacing as you pulled back further from him. "You shouldn't have seen me like that."
Steve frowned. "Huh? No, it's okay."
"No, I-"
He cut you off firmly with your name, and you looked at him tentatively. "You have every right. All of this shit we've been through in the last twenty-four hours has just been... a lot."
"But you still shouldn't... I guess I just thought Dustin would need you more right now. He should be prioritised," you explained. "Y'know, he's younger, and he looked up to E-Eddie so much, and-"
"His friends are looking after him," Steve reassured you. "And why are you acting like his feelings any more important than yours or something? You were there too."
"Exactly, I was there. I was supposed to do something to stop, to-" you cut yourself off with a sharp breath, the tears stinging your eyes again. You whispered so that your voice wouldn't break, "I was supposed to stop him. I told him not to go, but I should've tried harder. I should've fucking dragged him, I shouldn't have just stood there like an idiot while he-"
"Don't," Steve said sharply, and you blinked. "Don't blame yourself for this. It's not your fault, nowhere near it."
"But it was so easy to prevent, Steve," you said shakily.
"Still not your fault. You didn't force him to do it, did you?"
"But I didn't stop him."
"Sounds like you tried, and that's enough. It's not fair to blame yourself," said Steve.
Your lips started to wobble, and Steve's eyes softened, tugging you to come closer to him again. "None of this is fair. It's not fair that he's gone, and I feel horrible, and this guilt... it's eating me up. I can't do it, Steve."
You never expected that you'd admit such a thing, especially to him, but you were just so vulnerable and tired from everything that had happened, that you just didn't care anymore. You didn't want to act strong, because you didn't feel strong at all. You had no energy to act with the lie.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes swirling with sadness for you. "You don't deserve this. I wish I could make it better."
You sniffled, and gave him a small smile. "You already are."
Steve seemed surprised by that, but he returned your smile and pulled you to his chest again, resting his chin on top of your head.
"I'm always here for you, alright? Even if the others are suffering too, you can come to me, and I'll be there," Steve told you earnestly. His voice was softer as he added, "I'll always be there."
Your heart melted, and you wrapped your arms around Steve's waist, desiring to be closer to him even though it was physically impossible to get any closer with him. "Thank you, Steve."
You let your eyes fall closed after that, the intensity of your emotions having had eased, your heartbeat quietened down, all because of him.
You had bigger problems to deal with right now, but one day, you would tell Steve how you felt about him. One day, you would be brave enough.
Summary: The kiss cam never lands on you, but the one time it does, it gives you the opportunity to kiss a very handsome man.
Content: fluff, meet-cute, mostly not proofread, tweaked the way a quidditch game goes of course, let me know if I missed any!
Word count: 1.4k
The stadium was already roaring as you found your seat, clutching your bag to your chest as you squeezed in, giving apologies to the people you went past. You let out a sigh of relief as you finally plopped into your seat, which was in a section high up from the ground.
You placed your bag in your lap, and rummaged through it to pull out your Omnioculars. You peered through him, inspecting the field that was currently empty as the game hadn't begun yet. You set them down, and waited in anticipation for the game to start.
You watched as people around you navigated the crowds to get to their seats. You were staring at a couple bickering in front of you when you heard a loud, "coming through!" From above you, and you lifted your gaze to see two men squeezing past the seats, coming your way.
You shuffled back into your seat as much as possible to give them, and they didn't go further as they took the seats next to you, the man with the glasses filling the one beside you.
You glanced at him once, and then twice, quietly taking notice of his good looks. He had dark, messy hair that fell over his eyes charmingly, and round glasses perched on his nose that suited him so well it should've been a crime.
He caught your gaze briefly, and you exchanged a polite smile with him, the kind only directed towards strangers, and looked away. He turned back to talk animatedly with his friend next to him, who had wavy black hair that fell to his shoulders.
You had seen plenty of handsome men in your lifetime, so you paid no more particular attention to the man beside you, and focused on the game instead. Your knee bounced with excitement as the commentator's voice started to boom from all corners of the stadium, the crowd finally somewhat settled as it increased in volume.
You cheered loudly with excitement as the players from each team came out, especially when you spotted your favourites. It was a game of Scotland versus Luxembourg, and while you had nothing against Scotland, you were rooting heavily for Luxembourg.
The game kicked off to a thrilling start, and you quickly discovered what team the man beside you barracked for by the way he he cheered especially whenever Scotland had the Quaffle, him and his friend sometimes shaking each other aggressively and shouting obnoxiously loud in your ear. You made your support for Luxembourg no less obvious, and felt smug whenever they took the Quaffle off Scotland's hands.
The game had been going on for hours, afternoon stretching into night when the Scotland team captain called for a timeout. It was basically a break for the players, and a break for your throat that had screamed itself hoarse. You felt no regret for it since Luxembourg was in front by sixty points.
After fifteen minutes had passed with no sign of the game starting up again anytime soon, a romantic melody started to blast in the stadium with a large projection of big letters appearing in the middle of the stadium.
A simultaneous series of groans and cheers erupted from the crowd.
It was the kiss cam.
The kiss cam only ever showed up when a timeout in a Quidditch match took a while, so it served as a source of entertainment while the viewers waited for the main event to start again. You had encountered a kiss cam before, but it had never once landed on you. It had gotten close, but you had never been put in a situation where you were pressured to kiss a stranger in front of thousands of people, so you were quite grateful.
You stared up at it in amusement. While you were happy to have never been a victim of it, it didn’t mean you didn’t find it entertaining.
A minute passed before the magical projection showed anything else, letting the crowd process what was happening. Then, the letters dissolved, and a large projection of a man and a woman appeared.
The stadium cheered loudly, encouraging them to kiss, and it seemed that the man and woman were already a couple by the way they laughed, leaning in for a sweet kiss with practiced ease.
Next was another man who sat with a younger girl, and it was clear as day that the girl was his daughter as he laughed at the girl’s obvious embarrassment, pressing a fatherly kiss to her forehead.
You waited eagerly to see the next faces on the projection when suddenly, you were looking at your own.
You blinked, eyebrows furrowing as your face showed on the large projection. You looked around you, eyes slowly widening as you realised you were on the kiss cam, where the whole stadium could see you.
And in the projection with you, was the handsome man with the glasses.
You both looked at each other in bewilderment while the stadium roared around you, loud voices telling you to snog.
“Uh- we don’t have to,” the man said, seeming just as unsure as you about what to do.
“Oh come on, just kiss her!” His friend encouraged, patting his back.
“I don’t know, are you…” he trailed off as you stared at him wordlessly, becoming speechless as you continued to gape at him. “We don’t have to, it’s okay.”
Before you could object, he looked to the projection of you two, and shook his head to the crowd, waving his arm to tell the people controlling the projection to turn it to someone else. The projection of you two eventually disappeared, replaced with someone else while the crowd booed.
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and he gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you quietly said, even though it was impossible for him to hear you over the booming stadium.
You looked at your lap as a strange disappointment settled in your chest. You had no right to be disappointed, it had been your fault you hadn’t kissed, you hadn’t gathered the words to tell him it was okay. You had just frozen up like an idiot, and now your chance was gone.
It was only two kisses later when your face and his appeared on the projection again, another attempt at getting you to kiss.
Everyone around you screamed at the both of you to just lean in, and you let out a surprised laugh as the man’s friend slapped him over the head.
“Just snog her, Prongs! That’s the whole point of it!” His friend shouted.
The man looked at you cautiously. “Listen, if you’re not comfortable-”
“I don’t mind,” you said quickly, not wanting to miss your chance again. “Unless you do.”
He blinked in surprise, and then smiled. “No, I don’t.”
You mirrored his smile. “Okay, good. Then I guess I’ll just, um…”
“Yeah…”
You turned your body to him as you both started to lean in, and you were taken aback as his hand came to cup your cheek. You stared into his blazing eyes for a moment before you closed yours, and felt him close the distance between your lips.
You melted into it immediately, humming against his soft lips as his hand dropped from your cheek to your waist, while one of your hands went to his neck. You deepened the kiss, and felt him groan as he tilted his head, squeezing your waist.
The cheers around you were deafening, reverberating off the seats beneath you as you continued to kiss him reverently.
“The kiss cam isn’t on you anymore!” The man’s friend called to you, yet neither of you pulled away, too lost in each other’s lips.
You felt his tongue run along your bottom lip before it gently probed into your mouth, and your other hand flew to his neck, while both of his hands were suddenly squeezing your hips.
You only pulled away when you were out of breath, one of your hands sliding from his neck to his chest as you panted. You felt his chest move up and down as he caught his breath, his hands still on your hips.
Your eyes met his, and you both burst into laughter.
“I’m James,” he said breathlessly.
You grinned, telling him your own name.
“Nice to meet you,” said James, his warm breath still fanning on your face.
“Can’t believe you just snogged a Luxembourg fan,” said his friend from beside, and James lifted one hand off your hip to reach back and slap his friend on the back of his head, making you giggle.
Summary: You grow insecure of your boisterous voice after being told numerous times to quiet down. When you finally listen, James isn’t fond of the change.
Content: Hurt/comfort, a little fluff, established relationship, use of Y/N, reader’s house is undefined so imagine whatever you want.
Authors note: first time ever writing for James, I hope I did him justice! Divider by @uzmacchiato
Word count: 2.4k words
You loved talking. You always had, and you couldn’t help but spill out thoughts to people, to tell them about something crazy that had happened in your day, or to share a new piece of gossip, or to talk about how annoying Slughorn was for assigning an essay so long.
But not everyone felt the same way about conversations. Not everyone was that eager to hear about your day, or to talk to you for at least an hour long. People liked a moment to themselves, to not have to listen to your ramblings.
Because that’s what you did, you rambled. You went on for so long without even realising it, and you never realised how much time had passed until you checked the clock. It was sometimes hard for people to understand what you were saying, because you talked so quickly due to the excitement.
You should’ve realised all of this a long time ago, should’ve known how it could be irritating, so then you wouldn’t have been taken aback when people told you they didn’t feel like it. It went from something so seemingly harmless as that to a blunt, “hey Y/N? I don’t care,” or, “I’m not in the mood.”
One of your least favourites was the passive aggressive, “wow, you just love talking, don’t you?” But your least favourite, the one that hurt the most was being directed towards you more than you liked.
“Do you ever shut up?”
Now that you thought about it, you didn't. Only occasionally you took a breath to recollect yourself and pause what you were saying, before diving right back into it. What were you supposed to do? Your mind was brimming with words, with stories that you just needed to tell. But not everyone was appreciative of this, and it was time you started thinking about them rather than yourself.
You woke up one day and decided enough was enough. You couldn't keep bothering people like this, and truthfully, your heart couldn't take another comment.
So you stopped rambling. You stopped ranting about whatever was on your mind. You greeted people a few times while forgetting your goal, but as you were reminded of it, you immediately stopped doing so. You received a few confused when you stayed silent, as they expected you to start talking, but they didn't mention it. You were glad they didn't.
It was hard, it really was. It took everything in you to not tell people about how your cat had stolen your sock this morning, or how you finally managed to finish the History of Magic homework you never thought would see the light of day. It felt like it was almost killing you, but you knew now that you were just annoying that way. No one truly cared, only just pretended to listen to as to be polite. You wouldn't make anyone do that anymore.
You finished all of your classes for the day, your voice more unused than it ever had been. You debated on what to do before heading to Gryffindor Tower, and wait in the boys dormitory until your boyfriend came. It was a little routine you two liked doing, where you would already be sitting on his bed when he came back for a little rest (unless he had Quidditch practice).
You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to be dating James Potter. You two had been together for a year now, and you had never been happier. Your past relationships before him had been nowhere near as stable, nor had they ended well. You had always been told been told that you were too much, too overbearing.
For James, that had never been the case. You always had the fear in the back of your mind that you would be too much for him as well, but he always proved you wrong. The thing with James is that he encouraged it, he loved hearing about your day and your stories, about whatever you wanted to offer. He always listened, asking questions about more, never once making you feel like you were bothering him. He matched your energy too, telling you about his own stories, and you loved to hear them.
You wondered if he would notice that you were being less talkative. You hadn't seen him much today, nor had you had the opportunity to strike a conversation with him. Not that you would've, anyway, since you were being quiet from now on.
You had been looking through one of James' Quidditch magazines when the door swung open, and four boys came filing in, including your boyfriend.
James was the first to spot you, and his face lit up. "Y/N!"
He ran over and practically jumped on top of you, and you couldn't help but laugh as he peppered your face with kisses.
"Yeah, just forget about the rest of us!" Sirius called over, although smirking at the two of you as he, Remus, and Peter put their school supplies away.
"I missed you, I haven't heard your voice all day love," said James, pulling back just enough to let you breathe. "Why's that?"
You shrugged. "Just busy."
"Yeah, I guess so. Anything interesting happen today?" James asked, chucking his school bag to the floor and settling his arms on your waist.
"Not really," you said absently, focusing your gaze as you fiddled with the loose thread on your sweater.
A frown tugged at James' face, watching you closely after your abnormal reaction to that question. Usually, you would smile and launch into a ramble, telling him even the smallest details of your day.
The boys talked and comfortably had their own conversation, which you would usually eagerly join, but this time, you stayed quiet. You had to press your lips together in order to keep the words in your mouth, as you were desperate to chime in, to add onto the jokes you could only laugh at.
You had a funny feeling James was noticing your odd behaviour, as he kept on glancing at you, expecting you to speak when you didn’t. It turned into a frown, as he became a little quieter himself, focused on staring at you as if trying to decipher what was different. You tried to act as normal as possible, avoiding his gaze.
Suddenly, James came up with an excuse to send the boys away, leaving you two alone. Something about planning a prank and telling them to go ahead without him, which you knew was an excuse because James wouldn’t miss out on an opportunity like that.
Silence filled the room as it was just left with you and James. You snuggled further into James’ side, looking at your lap.
“How’d you go with your History of Magic assignment? Finally finished it or is it still doing your head in?” James inquired, staring at you attentively.
“I finished it,” you said airily.
“You did? That’s great! Now you’re free!” Said James happily, and you thought it was your wishful thinking that this was his attempt of trying to bring back your lost energy.
“I guess,” you said flatly.
James’ hopeful expression fell, and you didn’t want to see the confused glint in his eye. You didn’t want him to question it, because this was already hard enough as it was.
“Is everything okay?” James asked you suddenly, and you swore in your mind as you tentatively looked at him.
“Um, yeah, of course. Why would you think otherwise?” you said, forcing a smile.
“Because you’re different today. I can see it,” said James, his eyes filled with concern.
“Oh, am I? I’m probably just tired,” you tried to say convincingly.
“Yeah, but… okay, I won’t dance around it. You’re quiet, sweetheart,” said James softly, brushing your hair out of your face. “And even being tired never stops you from talking to me.”
Your heart sunk at that, your chest constricting as you gritted your teeth. You knew it, you knew your big mouth had to be annoying James in some way. It never stopped you, nothing ever stopped you from talking when no one was interested, when no one wanted to hear your voice. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be surprised anymore.
“It’s fine, really. I just don’t have anything to say, so you don’t need to worry about it,” you assured, forcing another strained smile.
James’ face softened, and your breath hitched as his hand reached up to gently cup your cheek. “For some reason, I don’t believe you. Tell me what’s really wrong, sweetheart. Has someone been bothering you? I won’t hesitate to jinx them to the ends of the earth.”
Your heart couldn’t help but flutter at that, because that was your sweet James. Always acting nice so he wouldn’t hurt your feelings, which was probably the reason why he never told you about your tendency to talk too much.
“Nothing is wrong. I told you, I’m fine,” you said, a little firmer this time.
“Please don’t lie to me now. It’s written all over your face, something is bothering you. Let me fix it, or at least try to make it better,” James pleaded, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.
Damn him, because his persuasion was starting to work. Tears gradually welled up in your eyes, and you just wanted to spill it all out and tell him everything, that yes, something was bothering you and a lot of things were wrong and you did want to tell him about your day, but you were sick of feeling unwanted and you just didn’t want to risk it anymore.
Instead, you did something worse. Your lips started to wobble, and your vision blurred.
James’ eyes widened. “Oh no, love-”
You burst into tears, burying your face into your hands as James brought you int his chest, embracing you comfortingly. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, while the other stroked your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Instead of letting it out through words, you let it out through the wet streaks that streamed down your cheeks, burning your skin.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out, hands gripping his shirt now. “I’m sorry if I annoy you all the time when I talk so much. I don’t mean to, I swear, I just want to tell you about everything that’s happening and… and I should’ve realised I was bothering all of you, and I’m really sorry. I’ll try to stop, I promise.
James didn’t respond to this, and it made you cry harder. At least you had probably lifted a weight off his shoulders, because from now on, you were going to relieve him of your stupid voice.
He still held you as you started to calm down, and he pulled back just enough to see your face, wiping your tears as he watched the pain in your eyes. It broke his heart to see you like this, to see his lovely girl suffering.
“Breathe for me, sweetheart, breathe. There you go,” said James soothingly, as you started to steady your uneven breaths. “Look at me, and listen when I say this.”
You hesitantly did so, afraid of what he was going to say.
“You are not annoying, and you do not bother me at all when you talk to me. I can’t believe you would ever think that, because it’s so far from the truth. I love it when you speak, when you talk for hours,” James told you sincerely, continuing to wipe your tears. “I mean, are you kidding? I get so excited when I come to see you, because then I get to hear your sweet voice and all that you have to tell me. I never get bored of it, and trust me, the last thing it does is bother me.”
You blinked, not sure if you were really hearing what you thought you were.
“I can see how happy you are when you get to tell me everything. Seeing you happy makes me unbelievably happy, how could that irritate me in any way? Your energy just… radiates, and I think it’s contagious because I feel it so much. You’re amazing, and this is literally one of my favourite things about you,” said James earnestly. “What’s made you think this? Did I do something? Because if I have, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, you haven’t done anything,” you said, shaking your head as you sniffled. “Some people just said things…”
James’ face darkened. “Did they now? And who are these people?”
“Jamie, it doesn’t matter,” you said quickly, knowing how protective he could get as you took his hand in yours.
“I fee like it does if they’ve upset you like this. I can’t let them get away with that,” said James fiercely.
“But please don’t, please. James, do you really mean all of that?” You asked meaningfully.
James softened, caressing your cheek. “More than anything. There is nothing wrong with you. You don’t talk too much, you talk the perfect amount, and anyone who’s a wanker to you about it can piss off. I’ll go talk their ear off if it annoys them so much.”
You laughed were at that, and James’ eyes lit up upon the sound.
“I can see how it is annoying though,” you reasoned.
“Yeah, but again, there’s no need to be rude about it. They obviously must’ve gone too far if it hurt you this much,” said James.
Your gaze dropped to his chest. “It’s not so nice to hear.”
“Hey, don’t listen to them, okay?” Said James firmly, tilting your chin up to make eye-contact. You could see the love swimming in his eyes. “Don’t stop being yourself. It was so disheartening to see you being so quiet before, I didn’t like it. They’re just not the right people for you if they don’t like it.”
You gave a real smile as his words sunk into you, warming your heart and slowly healing the damage it had taken.
“Thank you,” you said softly. “You have no idea how much that means.”
James smiles tenderly. “I’m glad. I love you, I love you especially when you’re loud.”
You laughed softly. “I love you too.”
You almost felt like you were falling for him for the first time as you gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes. You both went in at the same time for a kiss, your lips fitting perfectly.
“Are you going to join the boys?” You asked against his lips.
“Nah, I have better things to do,” said James, pulling you into his lap.
You laughed, your heart overflowing with love. “Guess what my cat did this morning?”
Summary: After two years of marriage, you and Remus are extremely happy, and you discover something that can make you even happier.
Content: fluff!! Pregnancy, angst if you squint, mentions of vomiting, timeline probably doesn’t match up but let’s just pretend like it does… lmk if I missed any!
Authors notes: sorry this took so long to come out but I have been ridiculously busy and had no time to write, but here we are, the epilogue of this little series I’ve fallen in love with. Thank you to everyone who has been following along with this story and showing me so much support for it, it meant so so much to me and always kept me going to write this story! And while this is the final chapter of the main series, I do plan to write some bonus chapters in the far future, just to show pieces of reader and remus’ future that we didn’t see. Again, thank you all for the support, and I hope you enjoy this little epilogue! <3
Word Count: 4.7k
Two years later
The liveliness of the ballroom started to dim as the night reached its end, guests gradually growing tired from the night's activities and eventually retiring to their homes one by one. Behind them was left a tranquil ambience, a relaxation that washed over anyone still remaining in the room.
Somehow, you and Remus had ended up being Lily and James' last remaining guests, swept up into different conversations all night that required your full attention, which probably had to do with this season being you and Remus' first ever since you had gotten married. People had been eager to know what you had been up to, what places you had visited and what you had seen.
Now, your efforts had caught up to you in a wave of exhaustion, and you were nearly asleep as you leaned your head against Remus' shoulder while he talked to Lily and James, all of you still standing in the ballroom. Remus' energy was intensified as he had drunken more than usual tonight.
You weren't listening to a single word that was being spoken, fatigue wearing down your focus and making your eyes droop. You tried not to let yourself get too comfortable on Remus' shoulder, because if you did, you were sure that you would doze off.
Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard a noise from the entrance hall of Potter Manor, your senses waking up when you realised what it was — a young child's voice.
The conversation between Remus, Lily, and James halted as they noticed the noise too. You looked towards the entrance of the ballroom, and your eyes widened slightly when a small boy came waddling through. When his bright green eyes landed on Lily and James, his face crumpled and he burst into tears.
"Mama! Papa!" The boy wailed, and Lily and James sprung into action immediately, James rushing over to scoop him up while Lily started to rub his back, kissing his head.
A servant came rushing through the entrance, who you assumed was the governess as she was out of breath. "My deepest apologies my Lord, he has been struggling to sleep all night and he was much too quick-"
"It is alright Miss Thomas," Lily assured her. "You should head to bed, you seem quite tired."
"But my Lady-"
"You have done more than enough, we will take it from here," said Lily kindly as the boy buried his head into his fathers neck, with a head full of a raven hair that matched the man soothing him.
You watched the scene in awe as the governess profusely thanked Lily, leaving as Lily returned to comforting her son who was gripping James like he didn't plan on letting go.
Two years ago, right after the season had ended after you and Remus had gotten married, Lily announced the news that she was with child. You had felt her joy over the letters she sent you while you were on your honeymoon, and you had dropped in to celebrate the news with her in person when you and Remus had visited Mayfair one more time before leaving for Wales.
And now her baby boy was here, growing up rapidly with an appearance almost identical to James with Lily's piercing green eyes. And clearly, they were raising their son well with how he had rushed to his parents instead of his governess for comfort, seeking them out in his distress.
Your stomach twisted as you observed the domestic scene, and when you turned to Remus, he was already looking at you. You shared a small smile, and his hand laced through yours, squeezing.
You and Remus had no children yet, which was a rare thing for a couple who had been married for two years. It wasn't that you weren't perfectly content without children, you were still very happy, but you did want them. And after having multiple discussions with Remus about it, he wanted them too, it just hadn't happened yet.
Yet.
Your stomach flipped over completely as you looked at Remus, and then back to the child that Lily was now taking a turn of cradling. A smile tugged at your lips, and you forced it down, not wanting anything to seem out of place.
"Apologies for this, he is usually asleep by this time," said James sheepishly, the little boy in Lily's arms quieting down, only hiccups leaving his mouth now. "I do not know why he is up so late."
"There is no need to apologise," said Remus kindly. “We do not mind.”
"And how could we with that adorable little face anyway?" You cooed, and Lily laughed, turning her son's face towards you.
"Harry, say hello!" Lily told him softly, taking his little hand to move it into a wave. Harry only stared at you with his wide green eyes, before he buried his face back into his mother's neck. "Oh, he's just shy."
Your heart melted to a puddle as you stared at Harry's little figure. You couldn't help but imagine yourself being the one to hold a little person like that in your arms, with a mixture of you and Remus' features. You especially hoped that they would have Remus' eyes — although, you would probably never be able to say no to your child if they had his soft eyes.
"It is late, so we should probably head home," said Remus, placing his hand on your back. "I could see that you were falling asleep anyway."
"I was not," you said defensively, trying not to laugh when the others did because you knew you definitely had been.
You said your goodbyes to Lily and James, promising to see them next week when you and Remus would be back in Mayfair again. You had both been fairly present for the social season so far, so for a few days, you were going to retreat to your home, Magnolia Cottage. It was not ideal to have a two hour ride to the estate late at night, but your bags were already packed for the small getaway and loaded onto the carriage, and it would be worth it to wake up in your usual bed tomorrow morning.
After your very joyful and passionate honeymoon, you and Remus had travelled a long way to Wales, a journey you surely wouldn't have survived if you hadn't had your newlywed husband with you.
Remus had been right about one thing. You did love Wales. He let you explore both the countryside and the urban areas of the country, and you had immensely enjoyed every second of it. You adored the warmth of the welcoming community, the peace and quiet it offered in contrast to Mayfair, and the calm feeling that would wash over you when you stood amongst the trees near Remus' house while admiring the spectacular view. He had shown you specific places that were special to him, explaining the stories behind them of what made them so dear to him. Hope had been there to greet you both, having already arrived in Wales, and had been just as eager as Remus to show you everything about the country they had claimed as their own after they moved away.
After you spent a few months in Wales, you and Remus followed through with the plans you had made before you got engaged; travelling the world. You had used some time in Wales to plan the basics of the trip, but the rest had been proceeded with a spontaneity that you usually weren't brave enough to rely on.
And you had loved every second of it.
The first thing you did was travel around Europe, visiting well-known cities like Paris, Rome, Athens, and many more. And then you went to the Americas, which was vastly different in ways that Europe hadn't prepared you for, but it had been nothing you and Remus couldn't handle. It had been quite interesting to learn the differences of culture, especially being able to hear it in their accents.
Your big trip took one year and three months, and although you had immensely loved the journey of your travels, it had been a relief to come back home and see your family again, who you had only been talking to through letters.
After giving your families many presents you had gotten them from around the world, then came the timing of an important decision you still hadn't figured out by then; where to live.
It had created some tension between you and Remus, and had even caused some arguments to rise between you, ones that had always been resolved sweetly with healthy communication (thankfully, you had both learned from your past mistakes).
At the end of the day, all you two really wanted was for the other to be happy, and you had soon come to realise that you needed to meet each other in the middle in order for that happiness to be equally shared.
And so now, Magnolia Cottage had become your home, the household of Lord and Lady Lupin — you still felt giddy whenever someone addressed you by it — with consistent visits to Wales. You usually aimed to visit the country at least every three months, but sometimes you went multiple times during that passing period.
It worked perfectly for the both of you, with Remus still getting to see his mother often, while you were still close to your family who had gained a new member, with Edith and your brother having produced an heir. Your nephew had been born while you had been on your travels, but ever since you had returned, you had spent as much time with him as you could.
You two had ultimately landed on London because Remus had known how important it was for you to have your family close, and he had also been able to see how much you loved Magnolia Cottage, and he knew that you, better than anyone, could have moulded the place into a beautiful home, which was exactly what you did. He also had friends in Mayfair just as you did, so it was by no means boring for him.
You were halfway through the social season of the year now, happily content with your life as you dozed off on Remus' shoulder during the carriage ride back to Magnolia Cottage. You had been staying in your family home for the season so that you were close enough to attend all of the events, and you hadn't really left to visit Magnolia Cottage during your stay with the exception of one time a few weeks ago, so the trip was quite necessary for you and Remus.
You were gently pulled away from your slumber by Remus, making you realise the carriage had pulled to a stop. You blinked wearily as you lifted your head from Remus' shoulder who was looking at you with amusement.
"Why did we stay up so late? We are not usually those kind of people," you said sleepily, annoyed by your poor timing.
"I think we we became a bit caught up in ourselves," Remus agreed, planting a kiss on your temple as the carriage door opened.
You hopped out first, Remus right behind you as you halted in your tracks for a second, having to pause for the big yawn that overcame you. Remus laughed softly at you, and you shot him a glare, linking your arm through his nonetheless.
Magnolia Cottage was deadly silent except for the distant sound of owls hooting and flocks of birds moving through rustling trees. You could see it was all dark inside, and only the moonlight was able to provide you light so that you could see the walls of your home, the vines having been cut down with the bushes and plants in front more nourished than ever.
You and Remus were as quiet as you could be as you walked into the house, your footsteps on the floor echoing throughout the quiet home. Your footman, Oliver, quickly rushed in after you two to light up the hallways, settling to only light a lantern when Remus asked for just that. You thanked him and told him to get to bed, and he smiled at you appreciatively before leaving, doing as you said.
The few servants of your staff who were still awake were happy to see your return, especially your lady's maid. Mrs Wright wasn't awake, but you were sure she would be delighted to see you in the morning. You had grown quite close with her over the years.
Once you and Remus changed into your nightwear, you were grateful to finally have your bedroom to yourselves, falling into the familiar routine you had built over the few years together. You slid into bed with him, snuggling into his side while his arm wrapped around, pulling you close like he did every night, like he was still afraid he would you were going to slip from his grasp.
You talked in bed for a little while, lying down while facing each other with the room engulfed in darkness. Your whispers carried through the air with gentle teasing from Remus for the way you had allegedly snored the whole way to Magnolia Cottage, returned with a soft snap from you with no real bite, lightly smacking his arm while he only chuckled.
Then you said good night, curling up into each other's arms while you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.
Tried to sleep, because it seemed your little nap hadn't been good for you after all, since you were wide awake when you should have been in a deep slumber. You shifted around in Remus' arms, trying to find the most comfortable position that would lull you to sleep. Then you fully turned over, facing your back to Remus' chest with his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist.
It was to no avail, and you were considering sneaking out of Remus' arms when his voice suddenly brushed against your ear, lips forming your name.
"Are you still awake?" He asked.
You paused, and tilted your head to look back at him, finding his eyes wide open.
"Yes," you admitted. "Very much so. Sorry, did I wake you up?"
"No," Remus sighed, and you rolled onto your back to get a better view of his face, your eyebrows furrowing. "I am somehow wide awake when we have had a very busy day. I think the liquor from tonight is still strong inside me."
You hummed, pushing his messy hair out of his face. You had come to learn that you loved whenever Remus' hair looked like a mess, rather than the neat styles it was always moulded into.
"What is even the time?" You whispered.
"I have no idea, but I know that if we are to ever sleep, we will likely wake up when it is dinner tomorrow," said Remus with a little smile. “Or today, however early we are into the morning.”
You chuckled, and slid your hand around his neck to brush through the hairs on the nape of his neck. "Then it is a good thing we are free for the next few days."
Remus only hummed, eyes falling closed as your fingers raked through his hair, his body visibly relaxing. You smiled.
"There may be one thing we can do to help us to sleep," you said, and Remus opened his eyes, looking confused for only one second before the realisation dawned on his face, and you exchanged a knowing look.
Remus turned away from you, leaning over to light up the lamp on the bedside table. Once the room lightened up with the small, golden glow the lamp emitted, he grabbed the book lying next to it and sat back into bed, lifting his arm so that you could slide under it. He opened the book and flipped to the page that was marked, looking at you fondly before pulling you closer, and starting to read.
This had become a new activity between you and Remus during your marriage. Reading had always been something you had in common, and you both liked to grab a book whenever you were struggling to sleep at night. It had taken a couple of shared sleepless nights before you formed this — a comfort to fall into that would lull you to sleep, wrapped up in his arms while you would read together in silence. You would look at the other once finishing the page to see if they were done, and once the other nodded to indicate that they had finished as well, the page would be flipped.
Sometimes you did it anyway without the excuse of needing it to sleep, reading together in the afternoon when you needed to relax after a tiring day. No matter what time of day it was, it always helped to coax the tension out of your body, and it never failed to do the same for him.
However, tonight felt different as the face of Lily and James' son appeared in your mind, the love that had been palpable when Lily and James had hurried to comfort him as soon as they realised he was crying. The way he had cried for his parents, the way he had slowly calmed down just by being in the arms of the people he loved most.
You glanced up at Remus, imagining him doing the same thing for what would be your little one, being a loving father that your child would always be able to come to for anything they needed, and your heart skipped a beat. Your insides melted again as you imagined it, imagined your husband taking on a role that you knew he would fulfil with the most love.
You bit down your smile. He was going to be such an amazing father, you knew it deep in your bones.
Remus softly said your name, snapping you out of your domestic lovesick daze, and you looked up at him confusion.
"Are you feeling well?" He asked with concern, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.
"Erm, why?" You replied, knowing to let him do what he needed when he was checking up on your health.
"You seem a little off, and I have not forgotten how unwell you were the other night. Are you feeling well or not?" Remus asked a little more firmly, and you understood him then.
A few nights ago, you had woken up in the middle of the night during your previous stay at Magnolia Cottage, drenched with sweat, Remus still asleep when you had thrown up on the floor. He had finally woken up after you had called in a servant, Mrs Wright having been the one who rushed in. He had blinked awake to the sight of Mrs Wright comfortingly rubbing your back while you vomited into a bucket, your body heaving with sobs.
Naturally, Remus had been terrified for you after that, and had hastily called a doctor to check on you. He hadn't been there for the actual appointment, but once he got reassurance from both you and Mrs Wright that the doctor said you were fine, he finally relaxed.
But clearly, it still stuck with him as he checked up on you now.
"I am well, Remus," you reassured, squeezing his arm gently. "Truly."
"Okay... it is only that you have been reading that page for a while, and I do not see your eyes moving at all," he pointed out. "And you did not see me look at you, and you seem distracted."
You frowned at him. "Must you point out every little thing about me?"
"Sorry darling, I know you too well," Remus smiled, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and your lips formed into a smile of your own.
"I believe I am just falling asleep," you lied. You were still wide awake.
Remus seemed to know it, as he shifted around to face you better, his arm still around you as he arched an eyebrow. "No, you are not doing that either. I think that there is something on your mind," he emphasised his point by tapping your head with his finger.
You glared at him. "You are annoying."
"And you love it. Now, what is happening?" Remus asked, marking the book page and closing it, abandoning it entirely as he turned all of his focus onto you.
"Nothing, I am simply tired," you said with a chuckle to attempt to make it sound more believable. "I can be unusual when I am tired."
"I don't know, I feel like there is more to it," said Remus, unconvinced regardless as he narrowed his eyes at you. "You have been acting a little strange over these past weeks."
You swallowed. "Have I?"
"You have. Correct me if I truly am wrong, but it seems like you want to say something," said Remus. "Sometimes you look at me, and I think you are about to tell me something until you don't, and it is like you are holding something in."
You bit your lip. Had you really been that obvious? Well, there had been many moments when you wanted to just blurt it out, but then you had wanted to wait until the right moment. Except you didn't know the right moment, and it seemed that it would never come until you actually did it.
"When I do not find your observant nature endearing, I find it incredibly irritating," you told him with a sigh.
“I am only irritatingly observant when it comes to you," said Remus sweetly, and he chuckled at your flustered state, shooting him a glare through it. "Now, will you stop averting the subject and tell me what is wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong..."
"Then what is it?" Remus asked, and your stomach turned, the nerves suddenly washing over you again, and Remus seemed to notice this as his eyes softened in concern, both of his hands slipping into yours with comfort. "You know you are able to tell me anything, don't you? I do not want you to feel that you have to hide any important thoughts from me inside that lovely head of yours."
You smiled weakly. "I know that, and I trust you more than anything. But I still feel... afraid.”
"Of what?" Said Remus gently.
"I do not know, really," you confessed. "I just like the way we are right now. I do not want that to change."
"Now I am getting quite concerned," said Remus worriedly.
"Do not! I am just being wary for no good reason," you said, ducking your head in shame for feeling so uncertain when he had done everything to prove to you that he would love you no matter what.
Remus frowned at you before he took your face into his hands, staring reverently into your eyes, "well then, I will remind you of my unconditional love for you. Nothing will change how much I love you, and how happy I am to wake up by your side everyday and call you my wife. I mean it."
You smiled, your heart fluttering, and you tilted your head to kiss the palm of his hand before facing him again, your nerves quietened even if still present.
"Did you feel anything when you saw Harry tonight?" You asked quietly, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop it. "Lily and James' son?"
Remus blinked at the question, and took a moment to contemplate before honestly answering, "yes."
"What did you feel?"
"I felt... not sad, but there was this strange tug deep inside of me. Something like longing," said Remus, and your breath stuttered. "But then I also felt a sense of peace at the same time, because I know it will be us one day, I know we will have that great joy. It only has not happened yet, and that is fine. We are moving at our own peace, and that is enough for me."
You let his words sink in, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you went into deep thought. And suddenly, you felt tears welling up in your eyes, blurring your vision. Remus immediately noticed, and panic washed over his face, his grip tightening on you.
"I didn't mean to upset you! Oh, darling," said Remus sympathetically, pulling you into an embrace, misunderstanding the reason for your tears. "I know it is taking a little longer than you expected, but you should not get upset over it. We will become parents one day, I promise. Our time will come when it is meant to, there is no rush."
You choked out a laugh as you realised his misinterpretation of your tears, and you shook your head as you pulled away from him. Confusion then overtook his features, looking at you in bewilderment.
"Remus," you said softly, taking one of his hands in yours to guide it to lay on your stomach.
Remus' confusion only seemed to intensify at that, a flicker of incredulity in his eyes as he stared at you, as if he didn't want to dare to hope for what you seemed to saying.
So you told him instead of him having to figure it out. "Remus, I am with child."
Remus stilled.
"You- what?" He spluttered.
You laughed wetly at his reaction. "I am mostly certain than I am. When I saw the doctor that day, there was one detail I left out when I told you about it. He told me that if I missed my next courses, I would likely be with child. And so when I did miss them, I did some research, and now I am sure I am with child."
Remus' mouth dropped, staring at you in frozen shock before his gaze slowly dropped to where his hand rested on your stomach.
"I only kept it from you because I wanted it to be a pleasant surprise, but I could never find the right moment," you said, staring to grow worried at his silence. "And I do not want to keep it from you anymore."
When he still didn't say anything, your heart sunk.
"I know it is unexpected, but-"
You were cut off by the kiss Remus pressed to your lips, passionate and tender and full of joy as he held you tightly. He pulled away with a loud smack, and you laughed in surprise, the sound fading into a soft silence when he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You giggled quietly when he started to pepper kisses onto your neck, and your smile only widened when he pulled you into his lap.
"I cannot believe it," said Remus breathlessly, pulling away to look at your stomach that hadn’t changed, still in the early stages. "Are you truly sure?"
"We will be truly sure when I see the doctor again, but I have all of the symptoms," you said, cradling his face, "and I think even without that, I still know."
Your heart softened at the smile that lit up his face, and he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips, mouth moving against yours with love.
"I love you so much," he murmured against your lips.
"I love you too," you whispered back, and he let out a small whimper, deepening the kiss.
He broke away after a little while to allow you to catch your breaths, pressing his forehead against yours as he whispered, "you are incredible. I cannot believe you are carrying a whole child, our child."
You smiled widely. "You helped me get here."
"Yes, but you have to do all of the hard work. I will take care of you, I will be there every step of the way," said Remus solemnly, and you laughed at his serious expression.
"I know you will," you said tenderly, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your mouth to kiss it again. "I love you."
Remus smiled adoringly at you, the love burning in his skin and emanating him as he gave your lips another gentle kiss. "I love you."
You knew with a deep clarity as your hands intertwined over your stomach, that every obstacle in your journey had been worth it for this moment, for the happiness and love you both radiated strongly between you, and you couldn't wait to have the new addition to your family that you could tell your story to.
Summary: When you fall ill, Remus thinks your world is about to end, and it feels like so will his.
Content: bridgerton au but no lady whistledown, sickness, grief, ptsd, mentions of death, kinda a panic attack, hurt/comfort but its reader comforting remus if that counts? reader is being painfully obvious again, she can’t read the signs correctly lmao, tiny bit of fluff I guess? Lmk if I missed any!
Authors note: this is a bit of a sad one but I really enjoyed writing it! But ofc, as always, I yap and got carried away and it turned out this long… but honestly, this is one of my favourite parts. As always, the pictures used in this post are not intended to reflect the reader and is only for purposes of showing an aesthetic <3 lmk if you want to be added to the taglist! <3
Word count: 9.6k words
Magnolia Cottage was supposed to be an escape from society, from the prickly hands of the ton, a sanctuary. In many ways, it still was.
But it was no escape from Remus' obsessive thoughts about you. In fact, being at Magnolia Cottage worsened it.
He visited on the weekend again, his mother coming along this time. He almost wished he hadn't, so that he wouldn't have to be so discreet about his spiralling. There was no doubt that she would ask, and he couldn't very well tell her that it was because of you.
You, who brought out the best in him. You, who could infuriate him at the same time. You, who could easily brighten his mood just with that laugh of yours, who made him feel like the accomplished man in the world when he managed to amuse you. You, who was being courted by that stupid Fabian Prewett man, with his stupid travels to the Americas and his stupid horse bets.
To think that you believed Remus' bitterness towards Fabian rooted from a jealousy of Fabian being a better man than him was laughable. Remus had met plenty of men like Fabian, and if he had been insecure in the first place, he wasn't anymore. Quite frankly, he didn't care if a man was more accomplished than him, it wasn't something he dwelled on. Not that he particularly liked himself, but it didn't take a lesser man to make him feel valid.
He doubted he would have even thought twice about Fabian if the man had been courting anyone else but you. That's what you didn't realise — it was all you.
Perhaps the sudden irritation and anger he had felt was jealousy, but it wasn't solely because of Fabian like you believed. It was Remus being slapped in the face with the reality of what you being a woman in society meant; that you would get married, that another man would charm you and put a ring on your finger. You wouldn't always have time for him like you do now with always seeking him out in private moments, or sneaking out into the park early morning and having horse races with him.
Remus thought he could bear this. For the last six years, he had believed you had forgotten about him, and he had been able to live with that fact. So now, when he imagined you living out the rest of your life with another man, why did his chest tighten? Why did his heart clench with a wistful longing?
Deep down, he knew there was one simple, simultaneously complex explanation for all of this, for harbouring these feelings towards you the way he did. He knew what it was, but he would not admit it. He would not delve that deep into himself, and even try to think it into the air.
Because he couldn't, he simply couldn't. You were you, someone who had known him since he was a boy, who had grown with him into adolescence until he moved away. You had known him before it all happened, when he was just a second son, and you knew him now. You could see the ugliness of who he had become, of how much he had changed. You always told him that you still wanted to be his friend, implying that you still cared for him, and he failed to understand why every time.
He knew you were too good for him. And Fabian, while he was not specifically not jealous of the man himself, knew that he was worthy enough to deserve you. He knew Fabian was what you needed, what you deserved, and that was the truth.
So he couldn't admit to his torturous and profound feelings, because it would just become all the more painful.
But the horrible ache in his chest — it wasn't much better.
He saw you everywhere at Magnolia Cottage. If he even glanced at the window in his office, he would come back to the memory of watching you through it. He couldn't focus in the library, because your presence haunted him like a ghost, that night when he had run into you, where you had worn nothing but your nightgown that shouldn't have disoriented him in the way that it did. He felt you in the garden, staring at the same apple tree you had picked. He even stared at the forest despite not going in, replaying the memory of your tense argument in there.
You had no right to plague his mind like this, and yet you did anyway.
He had been far too startled when Mrs Wright had asked about you, having been afraid for a moment that she had read the reasoning behind his behaviour. But she was only curious on whether Remus had made it up to you, and how you were doing in general. She seemed quite pleased when Remus told her you were friends again.
Other than the mere thought of you nearly driving Remus to the brink of insanity, the weekend at Magnolia Cottage was quite peaceful. He had meals with his mother, making up the lost time he had wasted during the season. It was all pointless now that he had decided not to take a wife, which was a decision that definitely had had nothing to do with you.
He even thought of you when he got into the carriage with his mother, to travel back to Mayfair. It was like he could still feel the clear hostility you had had for him, and he almost smiled at the memory of you sitting as far away from him as possible, even though it was certainly not a memory he should smile at. He even stared intently out of the window when passing the spot on the road the rock had gotten caught in the wheel, the fateful moment that had led to you two making amends.
"I must confess," said Hope, breaking the silence that had been ongoing for thirty minutes as they approached London. "I am quite relieved you have decided to not take a wife this season."
Remus looked at her. "Is that so?"
"Yes. I told you in the first place, you are too young," said Hope, giving him a look. "And you ignored me."
"You knew my reasoning."
"Yes, and your reasoning was valid, but it was also a very paranoid one," said Hope blatantly.
"Mother!"
"It is the truth, dear! I have told you many times, and you know this, but I want us to move on," said Hope gently, and Remus' stomach lurched as he immediately knew what she was talking about. "Perhaps not move on, but... do not let it heavily influence our actions, do not let it shadow our decisions. And that choice you made of wanting a wife so early, well... that is exactly what it was."
Remus swallowed thickly. "I am managing just fine."
"Is that why you are so paranoid about everything?" Hope asked rhetorically, arching an eyebrow.
"Do not pretend like you are perfect," Remus shot back.
Hope sighed, a sadness coming over her eyes, and guilt washed over Remus. "I am not, but I have to admit that I am... tired. Tiresome of this grief taking over me and changing my decisions from what they usually would be. I think about them everyday, Remus, and I will never stop thinking about them, but I think that they would want us to stop being so cautious of everything. They would want us to live our best lives."
"Mother, please," said Remus weakly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Must we do this right now?"
"I am only saying. You know it is true."
Remus would never forget the silence of his home after he lost Adrian and his father. It had been deafening, and it had been even worse when he was in the same room as his mother. Every time he had walked past her bedroom, he would hear her crying, gut-wrenching sobs that made his own eyes water.
When Adrian died, he cried. He cried and cried, because that had been all he had known what to do at the time. When his father died, he didn't cry, but he changed. Any trace of the old Remus, of the one you knew, was gone. Because Lyall Lupin dying had been the final blow for the family, the breaking point for Hope, so he had become numb, because it was what he needed to be.
He had to be strong, strong for his mother, an anchor for her and a shoulder to cry on. Because she had lost her eldest son and her husband at once, her husband who she had a love match with, something so rare to come by. Remus was all she had left, and he had been determined to make himself something she needed.
Something else she needed was for him to take the title head-on, so he did. He had been terrified, but he did it, because it was his duty. He had stowed away his grief, and had taken on his rule as the Baron of Lupin at the age of seventeen. It was what his father and his brother would have wanted.
He hadn't dared to cry about them since. The closest he had come to it was when he had made up with you, when he had slightly opened up about it.
It was probably an unhealthy way of processing his grief, but it was all he was able to do.
"What did change your mind, anyway?" Hope asked curiously. "Was the intimidating wrath of the eligible bachelorettes and their mamas too much for you?"
"Yes, but that was not my final push," said Remus, and his voice quietened as he said, "Y/N."
"Pardon?"
"Y/N may have convinced me," Remus mumbled.
Hope's mouth dropped. "So when your mother tells you, you will not hear a word, but when your dear Y/N comes along-"
"She is not my dear Y/N! She is not my anything!" Remus exclaimed.
Hope seemed amused. "Of course not. Still, I am in disbelief she was the one to convince you. Did she too think you ridiculous?"
Remus glanced at his lap, furrowing his eyebrows. Well, he had told you something slightly different.
You believed it had been Hope telling Remus that he needed a wife, when in reality, he made that decision all on his own. He didn't know why he hadn't told you the truth. He supposed he was afraid of just that, you thinking him ridiculous. It was also you seeing how much he had changed already, he hadn't wanted you to see that one other thing. He had preached to you as a child that he didn't want marriage, and how odd would it be to see that he chose it himself unnecessarily as an adult.
It didn't matter anymore, his mind was changed, and it was only you who would marry this season to that stupid Prewett man.
"She always thinks me ridiculous," said Remus vaguely.
Hope smiled warmly. "I am glad that you have rekindled your friendship with her. You two were always the sweetest as children — well, sometimes you were quite devious — but your friendship was sweet."
Remus' smile was strained. "Yes."
They arrived in Mayfair, heading back to their temporary townhouse for the season. When they went back inside, one of their footmen presented them with an invitation that had apparently arrived the previous night.
It came from L/N house, where your mother had invited both Hope and Remus over for tea.
Hope, of course, eagerly accepted the invitation, while Remus found himself spiralling again. Tea at your house would be lovely, if it weren't for the fact that you had been filling every corner of his mind for the whole weekend. If he saw you — which he probably would — how was he supposed to act normal? If you even so much as looked at him for too long, he would likely do something irrational. It truly was not a good idea.
But then Hope wanted him to come, and when his mother was set on things like this, she usually got what she wanted. She told him how good it would be to go out in London after missing events on the weekend, that it would also give them a chance to catch up with the L/N family, for Remus to see the home he used to play in.
Really, those reasons made it worse, yet Remus still found himself saying yes.
He hated to feel giddy on the way to L/N house. His mother had sent him skeptical looks at his restlessness, but all that was on his mind was you. He hoped you were wearing an ugly dress so that he wouldn't want to look at you so much, but you could probably make the most ugliest of garments radiate. It would never take away from your beauty, and that was not very convenient for Remus.
Once they arrived, he stared at the house next to L/N house, his old home. It hadn't changed too much on the outside, but he wondered if the interior was any different.
He hoped the opportunity of going inside never presented itself. If there was any house that was full of ghosts, it was that one.
Yours wasn't much better, yet he walked in after his mother, entering L/N house for the first time since he was fifteen.
He looked around, bracing himself. Some of the furniture was different, the colour of the mats going up the stairs changed, but the elements of everything else were the same. The change wasn't drastic physically, he decided, but drastic in the way that there were new memories here, memories without him when he used to be apart of all of them. He didn't know if he liked or hated that.
"Hope!" The sound of your mother's voice came, and he turned around, finding the woman approaching with a wide smile. "And Lord Lupin! Oh, I am so glad you two made it. I had no expectations as I was sure you would have been tired from your journeys..."
"Of course we made it. We shall get our deep sleep tonight," said Hope, grinning at your mother.
"And please call me Remus," he said, smiling at your mother. "There is no need to be formal, you have known me since I was a boy."
"Oh, well if you say so," your mother said, giving in with a smile. "Come, the tea is still hot in the drawing room."
Hope and your mother eagerly engaged in a conversation, and Remus trailed behind them as he continued to observe the place. He momentarily halted in his tracks as he spotted a portrait on the wall, a portrait of you. It seemed that it wasn't painted too long ago, as you were still grown in it as you were now.
You were sitting down, looking away, wearing a light green dress. It was a simple portrait, something that only captured your naturalness in the moment, but Remus was still captivated by it. He observed it closely, and noted how the painter had been a bit inaccurate with your nose. Your lips looked differently in person, too. And your eyes; well, perhaps your eyes were just something no artist could truly capture. Your beauty overall was impossible to replicate.
Remus snapped out of it as he caught a servant staring at him, and he hurried along, catching up with your mothers.
The drawing room was only slightly different as well. The couches were in the same place, and there was still that same pianoforte. He remembered you playing as a child, how you would get mad at him if he didn't immediately shower you with compliments after you played a piece. No matter how he may have acted like it, his compliments were never false.
He sat next to his mother on the couches, while your mother sat across from him. He had an unsettled feeling in his stomach, memories rushing back every time he looked at a different spot in the room. At least you weren't there, which meant he could act normally.
"How was your time in the countryside?" Your mother asked as the servants poured the tea.
"Oh, very good. Very calming, but I think I will remain in London for the rest of the season," Hope answered. "I hate to miss events."
"That is wise, otherwise you might miss Xenophilius Lovegood's proposal to Miss Pandora Rosier that will surely happen any day now," your mother said, sipping her tea.
"Quite an unusual pair they make, don't they?"
Remus didn't really care about who was likely getting engaged soon. He was partly relieved that you weren't here to drive him mad, but he was also partly disappointed, and now growing curious. What were you doing? Were you in your library, reading? Or had you taken a book to your bedroom? Perhaps you had taken your horse for a ride?
Oh God, he desperately hoped you weren't out doing something with Fabian Prewett. That was not something he wished to hear about in the slightest.
Yet, he found himself interrupting the conversation to ask, "pardon me, but may I ask where Miss L/N is? Or anyone else..."
"Well, my husband is at White's, my son and his wife out for a promenade, and our dear Y/N is here right now, but she must remain in her room," your mother said sadly, "unfortunately, she has fallen ill."
Remus' heart dropped, his body stilling.
"What?" He blurted out, and corrected himself, "pardon?"
"I was quite shocked when I realised she was ill, but with all of this rain in London lately, I suppose I can see how she has been infected. It is only influenza, and she has been sick before, so she should be feeling better in no time," your mother explained. "It is a shame, she had plans with her suitor this morning."
For once, Remus did not care that Fabian had been mentioned. All he could think about was you; ill, cold, believing everything would be just fine and you would be back on your feet in no time. Until you went to take a nap, and never woke up-
A soft, but firm hand rested on top of his, and he blinked, looking at his mother. He was taken aback by the calm on her face, the sure and reassuring look in her eyes. Then he realised how panicked he must have looked, how obvious his turmoil must have been when he would usually hide it.
"That is a shame, indeed. I am sure she will be fine," said Hope, but it sounded more like she was talking to him than your mother. "It is just influenza after all."
"Precisely," your mother agreed, glancing at Remus nervously as if she had realised the situation.
Remus took a deep breath through his nose, recalling his mother's words. To not be paranoid, to not be cautious of every little thing. His brother and father wouldn't want him to be so worried, and if you were here, you would likely insist that you were more than capable, that you would be just fine.
And it was just influenza. Lots of people got it, and lots recovered. It was not Measles, or Tuberculosis. You would be okay.
"She should make a speedy recovery," said Remus, his throat dry as he smiled weakly.
***
You believed you had something more than just influenza.
This would unfortunately be something you have to tell your mother, as you simply couldn't hide it from her. Not with the red rash on your face that had spread to your neck and was now travelling to your arms, which made you grimace every time you looked at it.
You had a suspicion of exactly what infected you, as you had been infected with it before — scarlet fever.
You had first gotten it when you were ten years old. Your parents had been extremely worried for you, as a child getting sick didn't always have the best outcome. You hadn't understood the real gravity of the situation at the time, only that you hadn't felt well.
But you hadn't been alone in your sickness. Remus had had scarlet fever as well. Which of you spread it to the other, you weren't sure, but while everyone else around you worried for your health, you felt just fine mentally, knowing Remus was there by your side. He had been the only one you were allowed to interact with, seeing as he had already been infected.
Now, it was just you who was ill. There was no chance that Remus' could've gotten it, as he had been residing at Magnolia Cottage for the weekend. You knew his return was due today, and you were more disappointed than you thought you'd be at the thought of not being able to see him straight away.
You found that having to rest in bed all day was quite boring. You tried to read, but it proved to be difficult with your weariness and sore throat, you couldn't focus on the words. You thought about the events you were missing, and whenever the sun decided to shine brightly into your room, you grew even more annoyed.
After taking a short nap, you dragged yourself out of bed even though it was the opposite of what you were meant to do. You would've called a servant, but you were afraid you were only going to spread your sickness. You didn't want the staff or your family to catch it as well.
You had grown tiresome of being cooped up in your bedroom all day, so you dragged your heavy body over to the window, and mustered up all of your strength to open it. You poked your head it, and your eyes fell closed as you breathed in the fresh air. How you wished you could take your horse for a ride in the park.
You glanced towards the door, and furrowed your eyes as you heard distinct noises through the house, was someone talking? Did your mother have a guest over?
An idea formed in your mind as you turned back to stare out your window. You knew your father was at White's, and your brother and his wife were on a promenade, and if you were hearing correctly that your mother had a guest...
You could easily sneak out. You'd come back into your room shortly after, and no one would even notice. All you wanted was some fresh air, just to even walk around instead of resting and doing nothing, isolated in your room all day while you heard about everything you were missing out on. Would fresh air not be good for you?
With that, you crossed the room to stand in front of your vanity. You looked at your own reflection in the mirror, grimacing at the sight of your rash before grabbing a handkerchief, pressing it to your face to block your nose and mouth in the case that you would bump into anyone. You took most caution to be very careful as you opened the door slowly. You grimaced when it creaked, and you poked your head out into the hallway, looking left and right.
When you found that it was empty, you stepped out, carefully closing the door behind you. You listened sharply, and once you heard that distinct talking again, what sounded like two people, you were assured that you could pull this off. You kept your footsteps quiet as you walked through the hallways. Perhaps you could visit the garden, and sit on the swings? That seemed quite harmless, and well, if you ran into a servant on the way, you would just bribe them to stay quiet.
You turned a corner, and gasped as you bumped into someone. The collision would've only made you stumble a little in normal circumstances, but this time, it caused your weakened body to nearly fall to the ground.
You were saved only by a pair of warm hands on your waist. Your heart quickened, and you looked up, eyes locking with a pair of brown ones.
You both froze at the same time, his hands staying firm on your waist while your mouth parted. Your gaze darted to his lips for a reason you didn't want to delve into, and you hoped you weren't misreading the direction of his gaze that you thought were looking at yours too, his eyes clouding over with something intense.
Then you pressed your handkerchief back to cover your nose and mouth, jumping away from him. If you weren't careful, you would get him sick too.
"What- what are you doing here?" You asked, shyly smoothing down your hair that was loose, a sight he definitely wasn't supposed to see. Of course, you had no idea why he was even at your house in the first place.
"Er, forgive me. Your mother invited mine for tea," Remus answered. "And she extended an invitation to me, as well."
"Did she really? How cruel of her to do so when I am feeling unwell, I cannot come out to see you," you frowned, scratching your neck absentmindedly, not noticing the change in Remus' expression. "Though, I am seeing you now even as I should not be. It would be a delight if I were not sick, Remus. You should stay away, I could spread it to you."
Remus didn't answer, and your frown deepened as you observed him. Concern struck you at once with the way all blood had suddenly drained from his face, his eyes widened and filled with pure fear.
"Remus?"
"What is that on your face?" Remus asked.
Your hand that wasn't holding your handkerchief reached up to touch your cheek, and you were a little embarrassed. "Oh, you really should not see me in this state, I look a mess. It's a rash.”
"A rash? But your mother said you only had influenza," said Remus breathlessly.
"She still has yet to see it. You should head back downstairs, the last thing I want is for you to become ill as well. Why are you even-"
"Why are you out of bed? You should be resting! You must head back to bed right away!" Said Remus, his wide eyes looking you up and down with distress.
Your concern grew. "Remus, I have been in bed all day, it will be fine if I do not lie in it for a few minutes-"
"That does not matter, you must return to bed! Walking around will do you no good!" Remus stressed, his breathing becoming heavier.
"Remus," you said quietly, realisation slowly settling in.
He took two steps forward, and his arms reached out to do what, you didn't know, as it was only a moment and he immediately retreated. His gaze swept over you once again, and the panic in his eyes... it was startling, it was so raw that it inflicted an ache in your heart. You had never seen so much worry in someone's eyes before.
Then it clicked. Of course, how could you be so self-absorbed as to forget? It all rooted from the death of his brother and father. He had been overly protective at Magnolia Cottage, even when the chances of something bad happening to you had been slim, but now that you were really ill...
You couldn't begin to imagine the memories this was bringing back for him. The evidence of it was clear now, in the trepidation that took over his features, and his heaving chest. You longed to reach out to him, to comfort him in any you could, but you were too afraid you were going to spread your sickness to him.
So instead, you opted to assure him, "Remus, I will return to bed, and I shall remain there for the rest of the day. I will head back now, alright?"
"But you need someone to escort you," said Remus frantically, walking closer until he stood right in front of you. "I will... I will call for a servant."
"I do not need a servant, and I don't need-"
"But what if you faint? What if..." Remus trailed off, his ability to speak seeming to be snatched away from him with the growing rapidness of his breathing, to the point where it sounded like he had just run across a whole field.
Your heart almost broke at the sight of him, and you felt helpless as he panicked in front of you, becoming frustrated that you couldn't help with the risk of contamination.
"How about you escort me back to my room?" You suggested gently. "Would that make you feel better?"
Remus' eyes fluttered, slowly nodding. "Y-yes, I think so."
"I will guide you then," you said soothingly, giving him a smile of the same nature.
You turned around, and you only suspected he would be walking closely behind you as a way to watch over, but instead, you felt a hand splaying on the small of your back. You started, looking at Remus in shock.
"Do be cautious, Remus, I do not wish to get you sick as well-"
"That does not matter, only you do," said Remus firmly, and your breath hitched at the certain glint in his eyes.
You tore your gaze away from him, telling him the directions to your bedroom and letting him guide you there even though you didn't need it. Remus immediately rushed over to your bed once you entered, letting go of you momentarily to fluff your pillows more necessarily than needed, pulling back your blankets and smoothing over them in a way a servant did. You couldn't say you didn't find it strange, but you let it be.
As you climbed into bed, you were starting to understand that this was something he needed to do. Even though there were certainly better and healthier ways to manage such panic, it seemed that taking action was his own way of getting through it. Remus always wanted to act when something was going wrong, and perhaps that was why he was the way he had become.
You were starting to see through him again, just as well as you did when you were younger.
Your heart jumped in surprise, nearly making your body physically jerk when Remus pressed the back of his trembling hand against your forehead, checking your fever.
It was the simplest act, something that had no right to feel so intimate, but it did, especially when his eyes locked onto your wide ones, the furrow of his eyebrows so close that you could've reached out to smooth it with your thumb if you had enough courage to do so. You wanted to excuse your pounding heartbeat as an effect of your illness, but you knew it had to be him, and there was no convincing yourself otherwise.
Remus' eyes widened in realisation, and he retracted his hand quickly. "I am so sorry, I should not have-"
"It is alright. Do what you need," you reassured, and you meant it, because his breathing had calmed now. He still looked overtaken with anxiety, but you could tell he was feeling calmer than he did before, even if slightly.
"Just because I am worried... I must respect your boundaries," Remus murmured, starting to back away from you.
You reached out to grab his wrist before you could help it, suddenly finding that you wanted to keep him close. Your hand tingled at the contact. "Remus, truly, do not apologise. You are the only man outside of my family who I feel comfortable with. I trust you."
Something flickered in Remus' expression at those three words, and the impact of your words hit deep inside you as well.
Of course, you had trusted Remus more than anyone as kids, that was obvious enough. But now was different. With all of the years apart from each other, the time in which you didn't speak, how you both changed so much it felt like you barely knew each other anymore, it was not the same. It had taken you a while before you could even be civil with each other again.
But you were relearning it all now, relearning each other. Your flaws, your new likes, your new dislikes, your opinions, what brought a smile out of you. You thought it would be hard, but it came easier than expected — because it was all so familiar.
Your trust for each other had been broken into fragments, but you had built it back again, when you had both been doubtful you would even get there again.
So to hear you say it first, that you trusted him... it should have meant nothing, it should have just been another thing, but it had meaning. Enough so that it nestled somewhere deep inside both of you.
And telling him that felt right, and every bit true.
"You are burning up," said Remus quietly, breaking the eye-contact between you two that you hadn't even realised you'd been holding. At the reminder, you hastily dropped his wrist, and your fingers felt a little colder. Remus glanced at his hand where your touch had been. "I can call a servant to get you some warm soup-"
"I do not want servants, Remus," you told him gently but firmly. "All I need is you, I believe."
Your instant regret of saying the words had nothing to do with honesty, because you truly did mean it, but that was only the thing. How could you admit something like that to him? He must've thought you ridiculous.
But he did not look at you like you were strange, only looked at you with something profound in his eyes.
"Are you sure? Do you need anything else? Water? I truly do not mind calling a servant," Remus offered.
"Really, do not call a servant. And when I said I need you, I meant that... it has been so lonely, cooped up in my room, it is boring. It is nice to have a companion," you rushed to say, and if you didn't have a fever, your cheeks certainly would've been burning either way.
Remus nodded. "I knew what you mean."
"Good," you breathed, relieved. "Um, Why was it that you were in my hallway instead of having tea in the drawing room?"
"I was looking for your water closet," said Remus sheepishly.
"Ah, I see."
"What are your symptoms? Is your nose irritating you? How bad are the rashes?" Remus inquired, concern slipping back into his voice.
"It's more my throat than my nose, and the rashes could be worse," you answered calmly.
"But you still should not have them," said Remus, teeth tugging at his lip as he seemed to ponder the situation. You hated to find your gaze so easily drawn to his lips at the small action. "Have you consulted a doctor yet?"
"No, my mother does not know of my rashes."
"You must! You must make sure this illness doesn't overtake you," said Remus frantically, and your heart dropped as the panic started to bleed back into his face, as well as his voice. "What if you have something like measles? What shall you do then? What will I do? This cannot happen, I cannot let it happen-"
"Remus-"
"This is why I have always been wary! And the moment I lose focus, the moment I start to become idle, this happens. To you out of all people, I cannot take that-"
"Remus!" You exclaimed, stunning him into silence as you reached out to take his hand into yours, and you almost jerked at the contact. It was the first time your bare hands had touched, no gloves, no barrier between you. Yes, your fingers had latched around his wrist only moments before, but it was not the same as feeling his palm press against yours, somehow fitting perfectly as you stroked it in an attempt to soothe him.
It seemed to work slightly, Remus' tense shoulders visibly relaxing just by a little, the tight muscles in his face slackening a bit thanks to your mere touch.
"Come, sit," you invited, patting the spot on the edge of your bed.
Remus hesitated before tentatively sinking into the spot you had patted. Your hand still held his, and he didn't drop it, instead staring at your face, eyes watchful like he waited to protect you from any deathly symptom that came your way.
"You saw me walking around before," you said. "I walked just fine, did I not?"
Remus was quiet, the only sound coming from him being his short, anxious breaths.
"I can speak coherently, and the rashes are not all that itchy. Truly, I could be worse," you said comfortingly, continuing to rub circles on his hand with your thumb. You lowered your voice as you said, "I believe I have scarlet fever. Do you remember when we had it as children?"
Remus' eyebrows furrowed, looking at you with surprise. "Scarlet fever? Are you quite sure?"
"Of course, I am no doctor — perhaps I would be if women were allowed to attend school — but I feel similar to the way I did when I had it the first time," you told him.
Remus' gaze darted down to your lap. "You were the only person I was allowed to be in the same room with, since you were already infected."
You smiled. "That's right. It actually turned out to be quite fun."
The corners of Remus' lips quirked upwards. "Fun for you. You kept beating me in marbles."
A breathy giggle escaped you. "And your reaction was highly amusing every time."
"It is pleasing to know you found my despair amusing," Remus muttered sarcastically, and when you laughed again, his lips curled into a full smile.
You sobered, squeezing his hand. "All is well, Remus. I will be well. I'll be damned if I let something such as a fever bring me down."
Remus nodded, Adam's apple bobbing as he avoided your gaze. "You are right. Forgive me for being so paranoid."
"Do not ever apologise for that," you said firmly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "I understand. In fact, I shall send you a letter everyday to inform you of my wellbeing if it will make you feel better."
Remus' expression told you he approved of the idea, but he shook his head. "I would rather not trouble you."
"It is no trouble, Remus. Anything to put you at ease," you said sincerely.
Remus bravely took it upon himself to hold your gaze, his eyes open and vulnerable, an unusual display from him, but you were grateful that he trusted you enough to show such emotion.
"Thank you," he whispered earnestly.
"It is the least I can do," you whispered back.
Your sickness was the only thing that stopped you from pulling him into an embrace in that moment.
***
It was dawn again when you took your horse out, and you only had one person on your mind as you headed straight to the park.
You had fully recovered from scarlet fever now, feeling much better than you had in days. Your family had been very concerned when they had seen your rashes, and as expected, a doctor had been consulted. All he had suggested was you resting in isolation, and had prescribed you with some oils.
In all honesty, you didn't really believe the oils had done anything, but you were sure to be berated if you went against an educated man's opinion.
But thankfully, all you had needed to do was rest, and you had now recovered.
But every day that passed while waiting for your fever to cease, you hadn’t gone a minute without thinking of Remus.
You had kept to your word by sending him letters everyday to assure him of your wellbeing, and by letters, they were more like a few sentences scribbled down on parchment that would only take him a minute to read. Still, you were afraid he would spiral if he didn't know that you were well, so you persisted.
Now, you would be most happy to tell him that there was not a trace left of sickness in you anymore. Perhaps that was the real reason why you were going for a ride at this time in the morning, coincidentally in the same park you had both met in that other morning. Though, today was your first day of freedom after being quarantined, and you had been desperate anyway to take your horse for a ride.
Your actions didn't help with the case in your mind when you drifted towards the direction of the lake, the same lake you and Remus had made amends after your little disagreement at the horse race.
You abruptly stopped your horse in your tracks when you spotted a figure standing in front of the lake. Immediately, you could tell it was a man, and you squinted, moving your horse a little closer to get a look at him.
Your heart skipped a beat as you recognised Remus.
You stared at him with wide eyes, body frozen for a whole minute before you recollected yourself, questioning why you had even been so affected by his appearance. His back was turned to you, his tailcoat nowhere to be seen while he only wore his waistcoat over his cotton shirt. He stared out into the lake, the rising sun rays peeking through the trays, hitting the lighter parts in his hair just right.
How was it even when his face wasn't turned to you, he still managed to look so divine?
You pushed that thought out of your head, hands reaching up to fix any of your hairs that were out of place. You took a deep breath before urging your horse forward, and you winced as she stepped on a particularly crunchy leaf, echoing in the quiet space.
Remus visibly jumped, whirling around. His face relaxed as he saw you, and you smiled sheepishly.
His face filled with concern again as you dismounted again, as if realising what your presence meant, "are you not supposed to be-"
"Resting in bed? Not anymore," you said happily, tying your horse to the closest tree. "Today is my first day of freedom. I have fully recovered."
"You have... are you certain?" Remus asked, his voice a little breathy as his eyes scanned you.
You softened, already recognising that rising panic of his.
"My fever is gone, my rashes have disappeared, and my throat is no longer sore," you told him reassuringly, approaching him slowly. You smiled at him to prove your point, "take a look at me. Don't I look much better?"
Remus did look, his eyes sweeping over you multiple times as if to make sure, and you felt relieved as he slowly seemed to relax.
"You do," he whispered, huffing a breath out as he ran a hand through his hair. You didn't know why the action made your stomach flip, your gaze drawn to his hand that had just touched his hair. Was his hair soft, you wondered? It certainly looked so.
When you came back to reality, you realised an awkward silence was hanging over you, so you broke it by saying, "I apologise if my constant letters grew to inconvenience you. I only wanted you to know I was doing well."
"Do not apologise," said Remus softly, shaking his head, an impossibly tender look in his eyes as they gazed at you. "They did the opposite of inconvenience me. I... I truly appreciated you going through the trouble of sending one everyday. Thank you."
"I had nothing else to do," you confessed, and your stomach dropped, "oh, I did not intend it in that way! I only meant- well, I did have nothing else to do, but I would have done it regardless if I was busy. It was no trouble!"
Remus let out a laugh that would have embarrassed you if it didn't sound so fond, and you pulled an expression crossed between a sheepish smile and a grimace.
"You have no need to explain yourself," said Remus warmly, and his expression faltered, growing into something more serious. "In fact, I should like to explain myself.
Your eyebrows knitted with confusion. "Whatever for?"
"For how I acted when I was in your home last week," said Remus, and he quickly continued speaking when your mouth opened, "please, let me speak. I believe how I acted was inappropriate, and I... you should not have seen that side of me, and I am sorry that you did. I surely must have made you uncomfortable, and you must know, I regret that deeply. I hate to inflict that feeling onto you."
"Remus," you said, looking at him incredulously. "I do not even know what you are apologising for. You did nothing wrong."
"I crossed boundaries," Remus clarified as if it was obvious. "The way I acted was highly inappropriate."
"One would think you attacked me with the way you speak," you said with a little amusement, and you faltered as his expression didn't flicker. "Perhaps the way you acted was inappropriate by societal rules, but it was me. And with us, we have not exactly always followed the rules, have we?"
"When we were children."
"Why should it change now? Of course, we cannot be as we were when we were children, that is obvious enough. But you are my dearest friend, so forgive me if societal rules are the last thing on my mind when we are together," you said.
Something then in Remus' expression flickered, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, a glint in his eyes like he had been hurt. Your heart sunk at the sight that disappeared as soon as it had came. Had you said something? Had it come out the wrong way?
"But I still made you uncomfortable-"
"Oh for god's sake, might you remind me when I said that? Because I do not remember it," you said, raising your eyebrows. "Nothing you did that day made me uncomfortable or uneasy. I, in fact, believe it was kind of you to act that way."
Remus sighed, his expression conflicted. "I just believe I went too far, and you must know I am deeply sorry."
You frowned softly at him, and you took a few steps forward, causing Remus to seem taken aback by the action.
"That side of you I saw? You have no need to be sorry. I hold nothing against you for your reaction, because I understand as much as I can of the reasons behind it. With what has happened to you, you have all of the reasons to be wary, how could I blame you for that?" You told him firmly in a way that you hoped was reassuring. "You have no need to be apologetic. You apologise when something you have done has actually upset the person, and I am not upset. But if you truly regret showing that side of yourself, I will willingly forget it, and we shall never speak of it again."
It was difficult to decipher the emotions unfolding in Remus' face as you spoke, as he stared deeply into your eyes. His lips parted, what you thought was astonishment washing over his face, like he couldn't believe you were real. You assumed it to be some sort of natural human function when you noticed his intensely dilated pupils.
"I do not deserve your patience, nor your understanding," Remus said so quietly you almost didn't hear it.
"I believe you do," you said softly.
Remus' eyes softened, and your heart skipped multiple beats as you gazed into each other's eyes.
"I feel as though I owe you a further explanation of why I acted that way," said Remus.
"You owe me nothing."
"Perhaps not owe, but... I want to tell you. I trust you," said Remus softly.
There was that word again, trust. You took a sharp intake of breath, something like a weight being lifted off your heart.
You hadn't realised trust would become such an important part in your relationship, but it was. And somehow, building it up again after such a long time apart made it all that more significant.
You nodded at him. "Anything you tell me, I will listen."
Remus took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself, and you waited patiently. You would probably wait hours for him.
"My father," he began, swallowing, "died of Tuberculosis, as I am sure you know. When we found out, it was... well, my brother had already passed by then, so you can imagine how unfortunate those news were. We had to travel to the seaside since the doctors recommended it, for a change of air. I couldn't talk to him as much as I would have liked to, and when I did, I had to stay far away so that I would not catch the disease. I did not get to say goodbye, and I had no chance to grieve him properly, because I became the Baron."
You listened intently, soft breezes of wind flowing through the both of you as he told his story, as he spread himself out to you, trusting you with such precious information that made up the man he had become today.
"I had to become strong after my father's death. I had no chance to grieve, because I had no time, and I needed to be there for my mother," Remus explained, looking at his feet, wringing his hands that were bare when they were usually covered with gloves. A small smile twitched on his lips as he said, "my mother and father were rare, they were a love match."
You weren't sure what to say, so you didn't speak at all, only returning his small smile. You remembered when you were younger, Remus would complain about how nauseating his parents were because they were so in love.
"And before that, my brother," said Remus, his voice tight, "he was the first. He was taken by a disease that I used to think was so small, that was easy to recover from. And then he... I was wrong."
You longed to reach out and hold his hand, but it seemed that his brother was a more sensitive topic for him, so you let him continue.
"I thought it was nothing, because I..." Remus seemed to nearly choke on his words, struggling to speak, "I had it too. We were both infected."
You blinked in surprise. Remus had been infected with measles at the same time as his brother?
"And I was the one... I had it first," Remus whispered, like it was too much to speak any louder. "I gave it to him. If I had not been more careful, if I had not..."
Your heart broke when you glimpsed the shine of tears in his eyes.
"It is my fault," said Remus, his voice choked. "If it were not for me, he would probably still be here right now-"
"Remus," you finally spoke, and you gave into the urge, taking both of his hands in yours, squeezing them comfortingly. You were suddenly glad you had not put on gloves this morning, otherwise your touch would've meant nothing. "It is not your fault. I might not know much about your devastating loss, but I know that is true."
"But I spread to him! I did it!" Remus pressed, making eye-contact with you again, his eyes frantic. "I did not spread it to either of my parents, but I was foolish enough to let him be infected with it!"
"You cannot control that! All of these diseases are so unpredictable, not even the most masterful doctors know all about them yet," you soothed, rubbing circles on his hands with your thumbs like you did last time. "And illnesses have this horrible way of getting around no matter if you're cautious! You must not blame yourself for that."
"Then who else am I meant to blame? Because I can only think of myself. It killed him, Y/N," he emphasised, his voice breaking, "I might as well have killed him."
"Remus," you breathed, in disbelief that he truly believed such a thing.
Tears actually welled up in your eyes, heart breaking at his grief-stricken state. You realised how much you despised seeing him like this, seeing his sorrow consume him, and you immensely regretted how you hadn't been there for him when it happened, especially since it sounded as though he had been alone. The thought of him being alone in his grief saddened you even more, and you wished you could take all of his pain away, to lift the guilt off his shoulders.
But logically, that was impossible, so you did only what you could. You took a step forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace.
You felt Remus freeze, and you were afraid you overstepped before you felt his arms slowly wrap around you, one hand pressing between your shoulder blade and the other lower on your back.
He melted in your arms when you began to rub circles on his back, and you were taken by surprise as he turned his head to bury it into your shoulder, his face pressed into your bare skin under your cloak. Your breath caught, your hand on his back pausing as you processed the feeling of his body against yours. You knew at once you had no right to feel this way, to secretly enjoy it that much, but you did, and for a moment, it was all you could think about.
You recollected yourself and started to rub his back again, melting back into him as your eyes fell closed. You realised that this hug was more than just comforting him — though it was still a significant part of it — but it was important for the both of you, for the sake of your friendship.
You used to hug Remus often (usually when no one was watching) as children, and neither of you had ever minded. It was usually you who had initiated them, but Remus had never shied away. Neither of you had known it would be your last hug for a while when you saw him off to Wales, and for four years, you thought it was your very last.
The hug surely felt different now that you two were adults, but there was a sense in which it felt the same, that was just as comfortable. You were not embarrassed like you should have been, being so close to a man like this, but quite the opposite. Even when you were the one comforting him, you still managed to feel so safe in his arms, his arms that were longer and bigger and could now encompass you better.
That was what solidified it for you, you thought. That your friendship had come back stronger than ever, that it would be difficult to come between you now. No, your friendship was not the same it had once been, but it had grown into something more, into something so unlike the other people of the ton were familiar with.
You both stayed like that for a while, because perhaps neither of you ever wanted to let go. But when you noticed the sun rising higher into the sky, high enough for people in London to start waking up, you reluctantly pulled away from him.
Remus seemed to have calmed down, but his eyes still held that melancholy feeling, still had that glassy shine.
"I may not have known him well, and please interrupt me if this is entirely not my place to say this, but I am sure Adrian would not want you to think such things. I am sure all he would want is for you to be happy, to not live in guilt, and blame yourself for something that is impossible to control," you said gently.
Remus nodded, seemingly unable to speak, and when he briefly closed his eyes, a tear slipped down his cheek.
You moved before you could think. Your hand reached out like an instinct, thumb brushing away his tear. You stilled as you realised what you were doing, taking in Remus' shocked look.
"I..." you tried to speak, but the words escaped your mind before they could leave your mouth, so you stood there like a fool, mouth open and heart pounding, fingers still hovering above his cheek as his eyes bored into yours.
You finally dropped your hand, clearing your throat. "Forgive me, I believe I am now the one who has crossed boundaries."
Remus shook his head, his voice slightly coarse. "You did not. You are perfect- I mean, you are perfect in being what I need."
A rosy colour rose in Remus' cheeks, and you couldn't help but smile despite everything. When Remus noticed, a smile spread on his own lips as well, though more sheepish.
"Thank you, Y/N," he said softly. "You… your comfort is most appreciated."
You smiled warmly at him, while silently questioning the wild fluttering of your heart.
