More related content on the art account, Iâve also been working on writing a piece for the past three weeks. So someday that will be outâŠ.hopefully đ„Ž
The time period doesnât really allow for a lot PDA. I feel like Sebastian likes late evening walks and gentle hand touches. Certain things are just private things for him and you. That isnât to say he doesnât claim you, everybody in the school knows youâre his.
I donât feel like Sebastian is much of a hand holder, itâs not that he doesnât like it but I feel like he really likes you tucked under his arm, pressed up against his side. Itâs more protective, makes him feel like he can keep you safe.
Study dates are a thing, Sebastian is a bright boy who clearly likes to read. He loves when the two of you can just sit in the library and read together. Silence is comfortable when itâs with you.
I like the idea of him standing behind you while you sit, his hands on the back of your chair, leaning over so that his chest hits the back of your shoulder as you point out a passage in the book youâve been reading.
If you sit next to him in classes, heâll definitely lightly bounce his leg against yours the whole time and will occasionally link pinkies with you.
I feel like Sebastian is either out like a light or isnât able to sleep at all and there isnât an in between. Sometimes his mind races and he canât stop himself from going down rabbit holes and before he knows it, itâs the morning.
While up against poachers or goblins you notice he always is by your side. You know itâs taking a great deal of strength for him not to be in the front, pushing you behind him while he does everything to keep you safe. He respects you and knows that youâre able to handle your own. He just wishes youâd be a little more careful sometimes.
If you come back to hogwarts with cuts and bruises, heâll take you to the undercroft and patch you up without a word. Anything deeper than a paper cut, heâs taking you to the hospital wing.
Heâd never let you go do something dangerousâŠ.alone. If youâre about to do something risky and he knows about it, heâs coming with you. He knows thereâs no way heâs going to be able to convince you not to go, the best he can do is try his best to help.
Starts calling you âdarlingâ as a joke, he likes seeing you blush. Only used to tease you.
Cute nicknames over pet names.
Late night library study sessions where he plays footsies with you to get you to laugh too loudly so that it gets the two of you kicked out.
Visibly brightens when he sees you around the castle or in classes.
Will jog through the halls to catch up with you if he catches a glimpse of you.
Heâll reach over your head and pluck your textbooks out of your arms. Carrying them for you without ever acknowledging it.
Definitely an act first think later kinda guy in basically every situation.
Becomes noticeably more touchy when he feels jealous or insecure. His go to âback offâ move is to sling his arm over your shoulders and try to make it look casual while he stares daggers at whoever had the gall to bother you.
Fiddles with his wand, taps it constantly against the palm of his hand or tables. It drives you crazy.
After dueling or fighting goblins heâll tuck stray hairs behind your ear and kiss your forehead. He does that thing where he cups the back of your head with his hand and pulls you closer to him.
Sebastian could feel you slowly drifting away. It first started after the scriptorium, flinching whenever he raised his wand or pulling away when he leaned closer. Sure you had held his trembling hands and let him bury his face into the safe crook of your neck after what happened in the catacombs but now you were actively avoiding him. The more you pulled away, the more he clung to the shreds of friendship, trying desperately to fix it. He tried sitting next to you in classes, carrying your books, offering to accompany you to hogsmeade, but with every new rejection he could tell you were nearing your end with him. He had lost Anne and Ominis, and now he had to watch as you began to leave him too.
In his seventh year, he rarely saw you anymore. The quick glimpse of your robes as you passed him in the halls, the words âhelloâ not fast enough to come out as you scurried away. He wasnât even good enough for a greeting anymore.
Summary: You and Remus meet up again after a while and you try to persuade him that you two are meant to be together.
Warnings: I donât think anything????
Remus sucks in a quiet breath when he sees you. You look different from the last time. More tired maybe? He notices the way that the softness of your youth is gone, how your eyes seem more wary, and even how youâve grown into yourself. Itâs only been a year since your last meeting but he can tell that youâve grown up and he finds himself growing a little sad that he wasnât able to spend that year with you.
You were definitely on the younger side, much too young for him to even entertain the idea of actually being with you but he had fallen in love. A soft sort of romance had blossomed between the two of you a few years ago. A romance of quick glances, little smiles, blushed cheeks, and tangled fingertips. He had only wanted to stay there for a few weeks at most but the moment he saw you he became greedy, finding reasons to hang out with you and stay longer. He drank in every moment he spent with you, it was intoxicating being in love with you. He experienced happiness like he hadnât had in so long with you even if it was just you two sitting across from each other working.
He wished that he could have lived in that little bubble with you forever, that quiet unspoken love. Unfortunately life went on and when he found himself on a full moon he knew that he couldnât stay. The way that his bones cracked as they rearranged themselves and the way that he became a monster, that was not a life for you. So he left. No goodbye. Nothing.
If she recognized him, she didnât say anything. She didnât even look at him, she hid behind Charlie Weasley who had his arm snaked around her waist. Remus didnât want to feel the pang of jealousy that hit him in the chest like a bullet, it was his decision to leave. He wanted her to have a normal life with a normal guy who wasnât like him. Too old, poor, and worst of all a monster.
âI wasnât sure what to do after my little gap year so Charlie invited me to Romania to work with him and the dragons.â Remus forced himself to focus on the conversation as she spoke. Tearing his eyes away from the way that she leaned into the Weasley boyâs shoulder.
Molly gushed over her, dying to know more about the girl that one of her sons had brought home with him. Remus hadnât even had the idea that Charlie was interested in anything other than dragons and he had a feeling that neither had Molly.
A bitter feeling bubbled up in his throat and he stood up quickly, all eyes on him as the chair scratched loudly against the floor. âExcuse me.â He said stiffly, nodding a quick goodbye to everybody and leaving.
......
The next time he bumped into you was right after the full moon. He stumbled through the door, leaning heavily against the frame. He could smell that you were close by but before he could get to his room, you were next to him. Remus tried to push you away, throwing harsh words your way and hurling insults that he didnât mean at all. The full moon always made him more irritable and easy to lash out at others but usually he was able to contain it better than that.
âRemus, seriously shut up.â You say, panting a little as you help him up the stairs. âYou need help, let me help.â
He glares at you but keeps his mouth shut until heâs laying in his bed and youâre casting quick healing spells on his cuts. He watches the way your brow furrows a little as you inspect his injuries, how your lips move a to the side as you work. Remus missed watching you. He wants to tell you that he missed you, that heâs sorry that he had to go, that he messed up but the effects of last night makes him spit out that he doesnât need your help.
âRemus.â you mumble, hands falling to your lap as you look at him. âI want to help you.â
âGo away.â He growls, heart hurting as he sees the way your face falls.
âIâm not going anywhere, unlike you.â you snap back at him after a second.
âI had to.â Remus groans, fingers pulling at his hair. He wants her to understand that she can do so much better than him. âAnyways you moved on well enough anyways.â
âCharlie and I arenât together you idiot.â You sigh, rolling your eyes. âWeâre like...friends with benefits. I wanted sex without a relationship and he wanted to dragons and sex and no relationship so weâve just been doing that. â
Remus feels himself frown as you mention the fact that youâve had sex with someone else but he quickly wipes it off of his face, he has no claim to you.
âI wished it was you though.â You say, looking down at your hands.
âI canât give you what you want Y/N.â He mumbles and rubs his face with the palms of his hands suddenly feeling more tired than heâs ever felt before.
âWhy? Because youâre a werewolf?â Your voice turns sharp as you glare at him. âI literally donât care.I donât care. I loved you. I wanted you and you left!â
Remus rubs at his temples, how can he make you understand that he is not good enough. He will never be good enough. âI am a monster, you donât deserve a monster.â
âI was fine with the soft touches and the coffee in the morning and the way you always brought me a pen because I forgot. I was so happy with the bare minimum of love from you and then you fucking left! How is that fair to me? How is you leaving more fair than us together?â You are shouting at him now, pushing yourself off of the ground and towering over him.
Remus winces a little at your words and looks down. This conversation wonât change how he feels but right now all he wants in you in his arms. He reaches out and pulls at your arm a little until you slide into the bed next to him with a deep sigh.
âIâm sorry.â He apologizes, words mumbled into your forehead. He wants this forever, you forever but he canât allow himself the privilege of you in his life in that way. Right now though, he lets himself be selfish. Just for a little while.
Summary: Youâve been captured by Death Eaters for a few weeks, recovery is hard but at least Remus is there for you.
Warnings: Torture, panic attacks
Screams ripped out of your throat as a curse rippled through you. If you could have moved youâd be trembling but, you hadnât had that privilege for a few days. The last thing you could remember before they took you was his green eyes, wide in horror and the start of your name on his tongue. Another red flash and you were consumed in pain again, black dots appearing in front of you as you felt yourself losing consciousness. You knew if you just opened your mouth, answered their questions, it would all end. You wanted it to end so badly, you wanted to tell them what they wanted but you knew that youâd rather die with the information then live as a coward. As your eyelids drooped you heard a loud bang. Flashes of light suddenly exploded all around the room, a warm hand cupped your bruised cheek. Green eyes were the only thing you saw before you passed out.
The next thing you were able to process was a dull ache in your head and the sound of hushed whispers. A soft groan was all you were able to manage at the moment and the voices immediately stopped.
âSheâs awake, go get him.â A familiar voice whispered loudly and a trampling of footsteps immediately thunder away.
You open your eyes slowly and it takes a second for things to focus, with a happy start you realize you can move your body again. You hold your hand up to your face and wiggle your fingers, a dopey grin and a choked sob show how relieved you are to be able to do that again. You barely register the way that the ground has started shaking until itâs right outside of the small room. In a second the door is flung open and heâs standing there, chest heaving and eyes wild. They calm for a second when they meet yours and suddenly you are enveloped in his arms. His shoulders shaking as he openly sobs. You lay there a little shocked, you havenât had kind human contact in so long that you canât help but freeze.
âRemus?â You croak out, your voice has only been used for screaming and telling people to fuck off for the past few weeks so you suppose itâs okay that you sound like a 90 year old smoker for a little.
âY/N,â His voice trembles, and he pulls away from the embrace to look at you.
You watch the way that his brow furrows in distaste at the state of your face, he carefully runs a thumb over your raw skin and you suck in a quick breath as it stings. His fingers flinch away from your face and he sighs. You notice the way that the skin under his eyes, always a little tired, seemed to be stained with dark circles. You frown at him, struggling to sit up so you can get a better look at him. You donât like seeing him like this.
âIâm okay,â He assures you with a watery chuckle, running his fingers through his greying hair. âThough I feel as if our roles should be reversed.â
âIâm okay too.â You say, wincing as he pushes you back down into the bed.
âYou shouldnât be moving.â He says sternly, âWe would have taken you to a real hospital like Saint Mungo's but...Well you know. Mollyâs done her best but she isnât a professional healer so youâll need to stay put for a while. Can you do that for me, love?â
You nod, a little annoyed but too tired to argue. Even this little interaction has left you drained. Your eyelids flutter shut despite your desire to stay awake.
âSleep.â Remus whispers, brushing his lips against your forehead.
You think you nod but you canât remember if you actually do or not because you find yourself slipping into a deep sleep.
.....
A week of sitting in a bed and youâre finally allowed to walk around. The first few steps of your new freedom are wobbly but you manage, flipping Remus off whenever he tries to help.
âYou should sit down.â He frets, tugging lightly at your arm as you make it up the stairs. He stops nagging at the nasty look you give him, hands raised in surrender. Youâre tired of being babied, all anybody has done since youâve been back is treat you like an invalid. You were lucky if you could grab a cup of water on your own without someone taking over.
âIâm perfectly fine making it up the stairs Rem,â You huff though you can feel your body becoming tired. Youâve lost a lot of muscle over the past few weeks, what used to be easy tasks now leave you wiped out.
He hums and raises his eyebrows, doubting your words. You make a face again but move in to give his shoulder a light kiss. You feel his arm wrap around your shoulder and you sigh happily, leaning into him slightly. You pout a little when he moves away, but he ignores you as he leads you to your old room at the end of the hall. You push the door open and suddenly youâre nervous. Remus has been at your side every second of the day but at night you force him to go sleep in an actual bed and not the much too small chair next to your sick bed. You mostly do it because you know that his body, already sore from transforming every month, would protest greatly to sleeping in a chair but you also do it because at night, the quiet letâs you think about what happened there.
âAre you alright?â His hand is at the small of your back, fingertips pushing you slightly in the direction of the bed. You shoot him a look to let him know he isnât being sneaky and he gives you a slightly embarrassed smile at being caught.
âFine.â You say, clearing your throat and walking over to the bed. He sits next to you, knee lightly knocking against yours.
There is a silence that falls over the two of you, it comfortable but you can feel a lingering sense of sorrow.
âI was so worried about you.â Remus says, breaking the silence. âI saw you get hit by one of the Death Eaters, I tried to get to you butâŠâ
âItâs okay Remus.â You coo, grabbing his hands in yours and squeezing them tightly. You watch him shake his head and furrow his brow.
âIt isnât.â He swallows thickly and you can feel the way his hands are shaking. âI should have gotten to you in time. If I was better maybe I would have gotten to you in time and you wouldnât have had to go through that. I canât...I couldnât function with you gone. Everytime I closed my eyes I could see them and you andâŠ.â
âRemus, it wasnât your fault. If anything it was mine.â You sigh, suddenly annoyed at yourself. âI lost focus for just a second and he got me. Mad-Eye would be so damn mad at me if he knew, you know how much he makes us practice.â
âWell if it canât be my fault it canât be your fault either.â He says with a deep sigh.
âDeal.â You say with a soft laugh.
.....
He falls asleep before you that night. Soft snores as youâre brushing your teeth tells you that heâs really out. You brush some hair out of his face. You love watching the way his face becomes peaceful when he sleeps. Itâs as if the years of trauma and difficulties just slip away and heâs just a young man again. You wish he could always look like that, peaceful and unworried. Sighing, you lie down and look up at the ceiling until you swear that itâs been hours. With a loud snort Remus rolls over and wraps his arms tightly around you. At first itâs fine, you enjoy the warmth that it brings but after a minute you realize you canât move.
âRem.â You whisper, struggling to wake him up so that your heart can stop pounding so fast. He mumbles a few incoherent words but doesnât wake up.
Youâre trying not to remember the way that the spell bound your arms to your side the way his arms are and how claustrophobic you feel. Quick gasps pepper your breath and you use all of your strength to shove him away from you. You need to be able to move, you need to get away from him now. With a second shove he rolls off the bed and jumps up immediately when he hits the floor, eyes wide. You make eye contact for a second, tears spilling from your eyes and chest heaving for air before you flee to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.
You feel his body hit the door right after you close it but you canât let him in right now. You lock the door quickly and you hear him fumble with the door knob.
âY/N!â Remus calls your name.
You feel yourself shaking violently, a panicked laugh bubbles up and spills out from your lips before becoming heart wrenching sobs.
âYou need to breathe love.â Remus says, his voice softening as he hears you choking on tears.
âI literally canât.â You manage to pant between quick gasps.
âCan you let me in?â He begs, jiggling the doorknob again. You want to let him in but you also want to be alone to have a mental breakdown.
âNo.â You stutter, should your heart be pounding so loudly all over your body like this? Youâre starting to feel light headed, hyperventilating is definitely not helping.
âPlease?â He coos, quiet requests for you to let him in and calming sentences that you can barely register.
âI thinkâŠ.Iâm having aâŠ.fucking heart attack.â You gasp, clutching at your shirt and trying to pull it away from your body.
âNo darling, itâs a panic attack.â Remus answers quietly. âYou need to try and breathe or youâre going to faint.â
âIâm...trying.â You force yourself to focus on your breath. You can hear Remus counting and breathing loudly, instructing you to do what your body should be perfectly good at doing all on its own. You focus on the way his inhales sound, imagining the way his shoulders would rise and fall, and how the tiled floor feels on your bare feet. In a few breaths you no longer feel like throwing up and you stop leaning against the wall.
âCan you please let me in Y/N?â You hear him beg again.
You slowly unlock the door and look up at him. His face is tense, eyebrows drawn together and jaw clenched tight.
âSorry for pushing you out of the bed.â You try to joke, but a look at his face shuts you up.
âY/N, what happened?â Remus gently clasps his hands around yours and pushes his lips to the top of your head, mumbling into your hair he asks âDid I do something?â
You shake your head but then you sigh realizing that it isnât completely true. âYou were cuddling me.â
He pulls away from you, hurt evident on his face but he says nothing as he waits for you to continue.
âI couldnât move Rem, I felt like...I just couldnât move.â You hear your voice tremble and you  shove your face into his chest as tears slip from your eyes.
âOh.â Realization in his voice, wrapping one arm loosely around your head he kisses your hairline and mumbles soft apologies that you shush away.
After that night you become the big spoon as you learn to accept the comfort of his arms once again.
Half of the city was destroyed, countless lives were lost. Innocent people's lives, suddenly over. In a blink of an eye, their personalities, the little things that made them alive, everything was over. It hurt Peter to think that some of those lives were lost because of him. The only thing that kept him from giving up was the fact that one of those lives wasn't you. You were standing right in front of him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
"Peter..?" You called out his name tentatively.
He forced himself to look away from the rubble closest to his right foot. He could tell you could see how tired he was, the way his shoulders slumped and the bags under his eyes seemed to hang much too low for a boy his age. He looked back down when he noticed the way that your brow furrowed in worry.
You closed the gap between him and you, your hand cupping his bruised cheek. He practically leaned into the warmth, a deep sigh escaped from him.
"I want to go home," Peter's voice broke at the last word, tears dripped over the lip of his waterline, his breath started to hitch and he tried to catch his breath. He was too tired to even be embarrassed about crying in front of you. Through quick, hiccuping breaths he managed to speak, "Take me home, please."
"Okay." You whisper, your fingertips trailing down the line of his jaw and stop at his waist. Your hands support his body as you and him limp down the streets of the destroyed city you both had grown up in.
Peter watched you from the top of the building next to your apartment complex. His feet dangled off of the ledge, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. He did this when he got anxious, watching you sleep was the only way he knew how to breathe now. He knew it was stupid but watching you was the only way he could make sure you werenât in trouble. There were so many close calls, too many, and all of them were his fault. Just last week your fingertips clasped in his fist were the only thing keeping you from splattering onto the pavement. The idea of loosing you was almost overwhelming, a feeling of panic that made his breath hitch. He forced himself to focus on you, the way your chest moved up and down, a good sign that you werenât dead. He paid attention to the way your hair spread over your shoulder and the way your hand rested on the pillow next to you. This was the only way. Peter stayed there until the sun started rising over the skyscrapers, the sky was just turning blue when he shot a web towards his own apartment. He took one last look at your sleeping body before jumping off the building, swinging towards home.Â
Peterâs skin tugged lightly as your needle criss-crossed over a particularly deep cut on his arm. You heard the boy hiss under his breath as you finished the last stitch with a slightly harder than usual pull. This was a regular occurrence for the two of you, he would go off and do his super-hero thing and then come back to the safety of your arms and get patched up if needed. The truth was that it made you nervous when he went out and became the famous swinging hero because you knew that at the end of the day you were the one who was going to have to see the young boy covered in black and blue and watch his battered body go limp with exhaustion.
A small frown ghosted your lips and it didnât go unnoticed by Peter who raised a tired eyebrow up in confusion.
âItâs nothing,â you say, your brow furrowing as you notice the dried blood coming from his nose. You stand up and walk to your bathroom to grab a towel. As you turn on the sink you watch yourself in the mirror, the dark circles under your eyes and the way you donât look like you anymore. You sigh and turn off the sink, youâre not ready to return to your battered boyfriend quite yet, you just want to close your eyes and sleep for a million years until he isnât spiderman anymore.
âHey,â his soft whisper brings you back to the present and you open your eyes, blinking blearily.
âHey,â you respond, your hand moving to wipe the blood from his face but he gently pushes it away.
âIâm sorry,â he says, folding your body in his arms and squeezing lightly, âIâm so sorry.â He whispers this over and over again until it doesnât even sound like words anymore.
Peter watched you laugh, mouth open in a happy smile. The sound was pure joy and it made his heart clench in a way he couldnât explain. He knew you didnât know he existed but he wanted you to. He wanted to know everything about you, all your weird habits and quirky little tics, he wanted to know what your first memory was and what your favorite color was. He wanted to be the one who made your face change to happiness and chest explode in laughter. Ned was talking now, mouth moving, hand waving but Peter didnât acknowledge his friend. He just wanted to watch you laugh.
Spider-Man snuck into your room through the window, cracked just for him, pushing it up slowly so that it didnât creak. He pulled his mask off, becoming Peter Parker once again, and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He saw the shape of your body in your bed, the covers messy and lived in. He smiled as he watched your chest rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall. He loved to watch the calmness of your face as you slept, the way your hand lay over the rim of the mattress, the way that your hair fell on your pillowcase. He loved you, and in that moment he felt the overwhelming need to say it out loud, so he did. He whispered it in your sleeping ear as he climbed into the small twin-sized bed with you, it became a lullaby in his mouth until he too fell asleep.
Peter Parker swallowed thickly as he washed your blood off of his hands. He had told you to stay still, to not move, to do anything but follow him into the fight but as always, you didnât listen. He choked back a sob as he remembered your limp body in his arms, a trickle of blood coming from your temple. If only you hadnât followed him, that was on him. He should have taken you to safety instead of leaving you to fend for yourself, as buildings crumbled, guns blazing. Peter didnât stop washing his hands, even as the water ran clear, because he still felt your blood in the cracks of his hands and under his fingernails. Your death seemed to cling to him and with that thought, he scrubbed harder. It was his fault, all his fault. There were so many things that he could have done to stop what had happened. After the blip he was so happy to see you again, he had promised you that nothing would ever happen to you and now he was eating his words. He hated that. He hated himself. With the water still running he sat on the floor of his bathroom and let himself cry, his heart aching for what was lost and what he would never get back.Â