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sadisticsongbird · 11 months

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divided by the crown ~ peter parker

part three

a/n: y’all i am SO sorry. i thought i had queued this yesterday already because I had a funeral. but here it is. FINALLY. the last part of divided by the crown and i’m not going to lie, i am NOT going to miss it. although it was fun to write, it was difficult to continue working on it for a long length of time. i am however willing to answer any questions you may have about the series or write little blurbs here and there if they end up in my ask box. but without further adu...

summary: the close of your and peters royal adventure...

warnings: this has NOT been edited

word count: 9.5k

You had officially run out of tears and your throat was raw. Screaming wasn’t helping and now your voice was left to a broken sound. The funny thing was that you weren’t screaming for your sake, for them to let you out. You had been calling Peter’s name over and over. Even now as sound was barely escaping you, his name was the only thing leaving your lips. Your back was sore and you were sure that you had countless slivers in the palms of your hands. It had been only three days since you had been locked up and you hadn’t even seen Peter once. You were sure that guards were keeping him away, but you couldn’t help but ask why he didn’t take control over the guards. They were HIS soldiers after all, not MJ’s. You sighed before getting up from the hay on the ground upon seeing your breakfast tray lying at the foot of the barred cell door. You looked up to see a guard standing before your cell, staring straight ahead. Of course, she would set up a watch. She probably had guards on Peter’s door too, keeping you two away from one another.

When they had brought you here, they had given you only a sheer dress, even worse than what you normally wore. There were already rips in the fabric from the rough ground and rock walls, holes in the most inconvenient of places. It was long, thank God, so it wouldn’t ride up. Peter was kept behind after they had brought you in, Lord Stark the one to take him home. He was escorted to his room immediately and probably hadn’t left it since.

It had only been days, but it had felt like years. He had been sitting at his desk for the time being kept in his room. The ring that sat on his finger was being twisted between his fingers and your necklace that sat in his pocket felt heavy. All he could think about was you. You locked up in a cell.

All because of him.

He wouldn’t stop until he had looked at every last document, every last note until he found a loophole to get you both out of the situation you were in. He had yet to be visited by the princess and was quite dreading a visit from her. What had happened in the short afternoon and evening that he had disappeared for? It had been normal for him to disappear and abandon all responsibility in the past few months, but how far did MJ have her nails in the court? Lord Stark, whom he trusted, was even submitting to the foreign royal’s orders. In frustration, he plopped down in the chair that was sitting behind his desk. Peter couldn’t bare to think about what would happen to you if he couldn’t succeed. What would the princess do to you? Your relationship was one forbode and MJ was meant to take the place that you currently held. Would she go as far as killing you to be at Peter’s side?

And what would be of him? If MJ intended to continue to control his guards and court, what place did Peter serve? What if she intended to kill the both of them and take the kingdom for herself? He couldn’t let that happen. To either of you. He would make sure of it.

A knock was heard at his door and he scrambled to his feet and tried to scatter the documents and maps across his desk. Although they probably knew that Peter was doing whatever he could to get out of this mess, he didn’t want them to know if he had made any progress and stop him. If he was making progress at all. Unannounced, his doors opened, revealing the princess herself.

“Peter.”

“MJ.”

There was an awkwardness radiating off of the young prince, making MJ very aware of his vulnerability and it gave her all the more reason to keep pursuing confidence.

“Your little love bird is sitting in a cell right now…but you want to know what the weird thing is?” Peter didn’t say anything. “She doesn’t seem to be concerned for herself…only for you.” He gulped. It sounded like something you would do. Even though you should be worrying about yourself, you concern yourself with others' well-being. “You must’ve fooled her well. That move you pulled in the woods, the defensive boyfriend bit,” she muttered, making her way closer to Peter and placing her hand on his chest. He recoiled slightly but didn’t move far. “I’ll admit, I was convinced. Really, I’m impressed. But does she really know the truth about the young Peter Parker?” Her hand dragged lower and lower until it was sitting near the waistband of his pants. Just before she reached his belt, he grasped her wrist in his hand and twisted slightly, if only to inflict a little pain. If it did, it didn’t show on her unmoving features.

“Enough, MJ,”

“What?” she scoffed. “You upset your little play thing’s locked away?”

His scowl grew deep. The anger between the two didn’t dissipate and the princess was only making it worse. He threw her hand away and turned around. He was scared of what he would do to her if she kept on instigating him.

“Come on, Peter. Just admit that you were playing her and this whole thing is over…”

“What’s over!?!” he yelled. “What is this?! What’s going on?!!” He paused, waiting for a reaction. When she didn’t give one, he decided it was enough self-control. “What, did daddy pull the plug on your money? He tells you that you couldn’t lead the kingdom because of that recklessness we both know you possess?”

“SHUT UP!!!” she screamed.

Peter fell back. He wasn’t expecting such an outburst and definitely wasn’t expecting the red glow coming from her eyes. She was a sight. Her entire body glowed like it was aflame and her eyes…her eyes bore into him, leaving his head spinning. This was no princess, at least not the one he knew from years ago.

“You have 24 hours, young prince, to relinquish your right to the throne…willingly or this kingdom will fall to the ground.” She flattened her gown, attempting to look clean before storming out of his room.

Fear. That was the only thing ingrained into him at the moment. Who was the woman that had just been standing in front of him? He should have guessed that something was up the moment a cocky grin appeared on her face the very first evening. While the girl that he knew had attitude problems, she didn’t like confronting people, too worried that her mistakes would lead the kingdom into further ruin. That girl wouldn’t be as straightforward with him as she was nor would she order around guards as smoothly as she did. Whoever she was, she wasn’t MJ. But her warning let him know that he had 24 hours to figure out.

You weren’t sure exactly how long you had been locked down there but everything was dark and you couldn’t make anything out besides the little cracks in the bricks that surrounded the torch posts on the wall. It was cold, a slight breeze traveling through the corridor, insinuating that it was most likely night now. You knew that there were guards down here. You could hear them talking at the end of the hall. The straw and the rock were beginning to make your feet raw so you opted for sitting on the makeshift wood plank they called a bed. When - if - you got out of this, you’d be talking to Peter about making the prison cells a little bit more comfortable. While being in jail wasn’t meant to be a leisure opportunity, last days or hours deserved to be spent in better conditions, especially in once-in-a-lifetime situations like yours. And maybe adding some windows or a source of natural light down here. What you would give to see the sun one last time, hear the birds chirp in the spring once more, feel the rain on your skin. But you had sealed your fate the moment you had stepped into Peter’s room that night to help him with his nightmare. You loved Peter, but that came at a cost. One you were scared to pay. Although it should have made you more worried about yourself, all you could think about was what would happen to Peter after you were gone. Did MJ have too much control of the kingdom already and it was slipping through Peter’s fingers? Would your death take a toll on the prince and would he be strong enough to lead after you were gone? Would he be vulnerable enough for MJ to take the kingdom or would he give up willingly?

Questions seemed to take more place in both of your minds rather than action. But then again, what could you do?

You had given up on trying to make a key out of straw after about ten minutes and the bars were too strong to be broken or even indented with your bare strength. So here you were, giving up and hopeless just as you promised Peter you wouldn’t be. You felt like you were letting him down. He was probably trying as many things as he could to try and get you out and yet you were sitting here, surrendering to your fate.

A clang rang on the bars outside of your cell. You didn’t turn over, keeping your back to whomever stood outside your cell. You kept your eyes on the stones, tracing the cracks in the walls with your eyes.

“I take it you're probably hungry?” Immediately upon hearing the voice, you turned to see Wanda standing there, holding a tray of food.

“Wanda!” You stood up right away, but your legs gave out from underneath you. You were weak and hadn’t eaten much. What little strength you had left in you, you wanted to preserve.

There was a single soldier standing with Wanda, who began unlocking the door while your friend waitied anxiously to attend to you. The key turned and you felt the only thing that kept you from escaping opening for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Wanda rushed over to you, setting down the food and helping you sit up. “You’re weak. Come on, eat.” She handed you a piece of bread. “God, they couldn’t have opened that door any slower,” she said without even bothering to see if they had disappeared. Luckily, they had retreated to their position at the end of the hall.

Your arms could barely support your weight, but you used your free hand to shove the piece of bread in your mouth. You weren’t sure if your stomach could hold it down, but you would take anything to soothe your hunger. Your friend stayed silent, only watching you scarf down what was in front of you.

“So, you and Peter? In the woods? Naked?” She rose her eyebrows a few times, teasing.

“Shut up,” you giggled, unable to stop the blush creeping up on your cheeks. Taking a sip of water, you finally had the confidence to look up at her.

“There’s a smile…”

“H-how’s the kingdom? Is MJ…is she-”

“Y/N, ask what you wanna ask…”

You gulped. “How’s Peter?” “He’s…struggling. Guards are posted outside of his room and limited staff are allowed in. He most likely hasn’t slept since you were locked up.” You looked down, breaking eye contact with Wanda. This was all your fault. If you hadn’t given in to Peter’s antics, neither of you would be in this spot. “And the princess, she made a deal with Peter. He has 24 hours to fulfill her request before…”

She didn’t even have to finish. You knew. You knew what would happen. Both of you sat in silence in the straw. You knew that Wanda would have to leave any moment. Although you wished she could stay longer, the red-head had already gotten up and picked up the tray. She left the bread on the ground. You grabbed what was left of the bun and raised it to her.

“Keep it. Take a few more bites. Trust me.”

You looked at the bread in hand but didn’t understand. Before you could look at her again, she was walking out of your cell and was already halfway down the hall, the door locking again behind her. Subconsciously, you took a larger bite into the bun and something hard hit your teeth. It sent a jolt of pain through your mouth as you quickly pulled the food out of your mouth. Your hands were swift to pull the bread apart and a metallic clink landed on the stone floor. Attempting to follow the object in the minimal lighting, you let your hands roam around the floor, searching with your sense of touch. When you felt something cold on your fingers, you grasped it. The moment you felt what it was, recollection flooded you and you felt a warmth in your chest. Peter’s ring, the one you had given him. And it only meant one thing. Peter had found a way. There was hope.

He had found a way to smuggle Wanda into his room, someone he knew you trusted. It was all the more reason for him to trust her. Peter had given her very specific instructions on how to place the ring in the bread, then bring her food. Once you had gotten his gift, you would know that he was going to get you out and end this madness. While scanning documents for loopholes to this whole fiasco began to seem pointless after a few hours, the maps had given him some closure. The only way to escape the problem was to escape. He had a way to sneak out of his room to get to you. All he had to do was wait for the right opportunity. He hadn’t thought about how to deal with MJ yet. He didn’t even know if it was truly her or if he could even defeat her. Peter didn’t want to give up his kingdom or give up on his people, but he couldn’t leave you for death either. He knew he shouldn’t, but his heart desired your safety above anyone else's. It was wrong. Being the Heir Prince, he was supposed to put the kingdom above his own needs and be responsible in situations like this, but he just couldn’t let you go.

Peter had changed into something more comfortable for being on the run and had a small bag packed with resources for a short while. All he had to do was wait a few more minutes. The guards would be changing and it gave him only a two minute window to slip out of his room and hide. But escaping his room would be the easy part. He still had to deal with everyone else in the palace, soldiers and apparently court members alike, get you out of your cell, and not to mention a head to head with the princess if he wanted to save his people. His foot continued to tap against the ground under the weight of his shaking legs. Nerves were nowhere near settling and they probably wouldn’t die down until he knew for sure that you were safe and free.

The clock kept ticking and he was growing impatient for when the clock finally struck 2. He had spent the last few hours devising a plan after MJ had paid him a dear old visit, just trying to figure out how to get to you without her noticing either one of your disappearances. The guards normally weren’t inside the hall by the doors, only at the end of it. As the prince, he held a set of emergency keys in case something like this were to happen. Well, not something exactly like this, but being the sole leader of the kingdom, he had access to everywhere in the palace with these keys, including the prison. He was sure that MJ took them out of his desk before locking him in, but then again, she probably wasn’t expecting Peter to leave his room either. He slipped the jail cell key and the sewer tunnel key off of the link that they were on and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He decided on the coat that he had given to you the night you came in to comfort him. It made his heart slow its beating, having a piece of you around. While it looked a little cheesy on him, your necklace also took a place around his neck. It was tucked under his shirt so the chain wouldn’t fall off, worried that if it was in his pocket, it could possibly fall out.

It felt like way too long since he had seen you, but he didn’t want to know what kind of state you were in. He couldn’t bare looking at you hurt, knowing that it was his actions that caused it. Why couldn’t he have just stayed away? Now here he was, hopelessly in love with you and risking his entire kingdom to save your life. He watched as the last seconds on the clock ticked down. The second the minute hand hit twelve, he flew to the door. He crouched down to peek through the small lock in the door. He prayed that the guards wouldn’t all of a sudden have a feeling that he was going to leave, I mean, he hadn’t tried in the days already spent locked in his room. Peter heard silent footsteps walking down the hall and he took a deep breath. This was it. This was his chance. Silently, he pushed open the doors to his room, leaving only enough space for him to sneak between them. He never left his back to the hall, making sure to keep an eye out for anyone coming up the corridor.

His plan was simple. Sneak down to the servant chambers. Wanda would be waiting down there as long as she had successfully brought you your food. She had a set of clothes waiting for him to take along for you and some shoes. Then he would travel opposite the kitchen, hopefully unnoticed, to the prison which was conveniently located in the same hall. He still didn’t have a plan to lure the extra guards out, but he’d get to it when he got there. Then unlock your cell, get you out, and run to the sewers and exit where Wanda would be waiting with a horse. See, simple.

His heart was beating out of his chest. There was no imagining what kind of consequences would befall his people if he failed. Would all of the people assisting him be condemned? The fate of the kingdom was resting on his shoulders and the worst part was that his people didn’t even know about the danger they were in. He guessed that was a good thing, but would his people rally behind him if they knew? Peter had been a pretty poor leader since his parents passed. His father was a god compared to his leadership skills. All he’d done was endanger the kingdom with his reckless love. The prince was always impressed with his father. The authoritative tone that echoed across the throne room, the way that he seemed calm no matter the circumstances that pressed down on the lives of his people. When Peter stepped up to the throne, fear was definitely expected, but the sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to let down everyone, wasn’t.

This was his chance to prove to not only to his people but himself that he could do this.

His head turned to glance around the hall. Once he knew that it was clear, he ran down the corridor until he saw the small door tucked away into a divet in the hall. No light illuminated the doorway and, if Peter was honest, he almost missed it. Slipping through the door, he began walking down the steep staircase. He carried nothing with him besides what was on his person, so there was nothing to get caught and make him trip, although he still was cautious. The stairs were already risky as it was, only one foot sideways able to fit on the stairs at time. The trudge down seemed to take forever and it only made Peter more anxious. He should be more excited. He was getting closer to saving you, but the only thing that was running through his head was how scared he was.

He had only explored these halls a few times when he was little, so the maps were a nice refresher. Whenever his parents were busy and needed to tend to royal business, he would come down here and explore, pretending he didn’t hold the life he held. Most kids in the villages surrounding would love to be where he is, but in all honesty, he envied the life that they held. The life that you held. You had freedoms that he didn’t. Peter had been basically betrothed since birth and was destined to lead the kingdom. He just wasn’t expecting it to happen all so soon.

The servant chambers were nearly in sight. The light was on in the kitchen and the last thing he expected to see was Chef Rogers so late at night. As long as he wasn’t seen he would be fine, but he couldn’t be too loud either without waking up the entire servants quarters. Waiting until the chef had turned around, he ran quickly around the corner to the servant quarters, opening the door carefully so as not ot make a sound or let in too much light. When he stepped inside, he was expecting the room to be a lot more occupied. With the dozens of beds that were held in the room, only a few of them were currently being slept in. He had never thought about the fact that they worked while he slept, doing things for him to prepare for the next mornings that he never acknowledged.

Wanda was sitting on her bed, holding a small journal in her hands, writing something down. She didn’t say anything, only motioning him over. No one else seemed to be awake. If they were, they were too caught up in their own world to know that the Crown Prince had just walked in. The closer he got, the more he recognized what had been put together. A small care basket, one holding a blanket, small hand held mirror, and a few apples. If anyone else were to see the haul that Wanda had been holding for you, she would be killed.

“Just a few seconds more. I have something I really want her to have.” Wanda’s voice was unsteady. Everything that had happened lately had happened so fast. One morning she was covering for her best friend to spend the day in the woods and the next, she was helping that same friend escape the royal prison. Along with the Prince.

Peter waited impatiently. He knew that whatever Wanda was writing was special and something that you would need to hear, but he was in a hurry to get you out before MJ noticed that anyone was out of place. He let out a sigh of relief when Wanda signed the bottom and began folding the delicate piece of paper.

“That pile of clothes,” she gestured to, placing her note among the basket items, “put it on.”

“What?” Peter asked. “I already changed.”

She scoffed patting her hand on his chest. “Right. No one’s gonna recognize you with the royal emblem on your clothing.” He looked down and sure enough, what he thought was an inconspicuous disguise had royal prince sewn all over it.

She chucked the clothes at his chest and turned around. Normally he would be embarrassed to change in front of a girl, but since everyone else was sleeping and that your life was on the line, it didn’t seem to bother him. He slipped the keys out the jacket and set them in the pouch in his belt. Changing quickly, he wondered what he would do with his clothes. After the whole jacket fiasco, he didn’t know what he’d do if your friend also was imprisoned because of him.

“You have it very simple. All you have to do is go down the hall, the guards are usually asleep at the time. If they aren’t, this,” she took a small white pouch out of the basket, “if you set it on fire, will knock ‘em out in a few minutes. You just might have to be careful. You could take Y/N out in the process and, trust me, it’s gonna be easier to take her with you if she’s conscious.” He only nodded along with the instructions, mapping out the plan in his head. “I’ll be waiting by the sewer tunnel with your horse and your supplies. You think you can ride without a saddle?” He shook his head vertically. “Good.” She paused, looking him the eyes deeply. Wanda needed him to understand how important that this was, how important you were. You and Peter may have known each other since you were little, but he didn’t KNOW you. Not like she did. When he looked at her like a deer in headlights, it didn’t make her too confident that this was going to work. Inhaling deeply, she stared him down. “You realize her life is on the line?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Because you don’t look to enthusiastic.”

Something snapped in Peter. He had been up all night and day for who knows how long and no Wanda was questioning his reliance. “Listen, Y/N is in this mess because of me. And that means that I’m gonna get her out of it. You know her more than anything, and as much as it pains me, even more than me. But do you really think that I would be down here risking my future just to ensure that she gets hers?” He stopped and looked around the room, realizing the volume he was speaking at and making sure that there was no one woken up from his outburst.

Wanda laid her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “If Y/N trusts you, that’s enough for me.” She gave him a small smile. “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you too.”

“You’ll need it more than me,” Wanda admitted.

The prince gave her back a small smile. He turned around once before pausing. “That jacket. Can you make sure that it gets back to me? I know it’s asking a lot, but it technically belongs to Y/N?”

“You’re asking me to endanger myself more than I already have?”

“Yes?” his voice scooping up at the end.

She smiled slightly. “I’m kidding. Now go, we won’t have much time.”

You had been wide awake since you received the ring from Peter. You continued to twirl it around your finger, feeling the engraving that you had gotten special for him. Your butt was starting to get sore from sitting on the hard bed. But you weren’t ready to move or fall asleep, afraid that you would miss Peter coming in the second you closed your eyes. The prison was silent, only the sound of the torches crackling at the end of the hall, and the faint sound of guards giggling at the end. Every moment that ticked by was a nightmare, scared that Peter had gotten caught or something worse happened to him and that all hope was lost. But a faint smoke appearing from where the guards were, made you step back from the bars, scared of the unknown gas. You stayed a fair distance away and slipped your dress over you mouth so as not to inhale the smoke. There was a clang, like the drop of a sword, heard from the end of the corridor and someone emerging from the smoke. Your heart began to race. What if it was MJ or Lord Stark? What if it was a guard coming to take you away so that Peter couldn’t find you? Relief flooded your features when the face molded into one you knew. Before thinking, you raced over to him, forgetting about concealing your features to protect yourself from the smoke.

“Y/N!” he whisper shouted as he messed with the lock on your cell, waiting for the click.

You quickly lifted the thin clothes on your body over your face, but it was too late, you could feel the effects of the smoke hitting, not strongly, but enough to make you feel dizzy.

It was nice to feel you in his arms again. After days apart, you both felt deprived from one another. He began to scan your skin for marks and bruises. You could feel his fingertips grazing your skin, not failing to miss a single blemish. You were drowsy, but you managed to pull his gaze to your face and look him in the eyes. Planting a weak kiss on his lips, you managed to get him to focus on you. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. All of this had been his fault. If he had just stayed away from you like he knew that he should have, he wouldn’t be holding your shaking hand, looking into your empty eyes, hearing the shallow breaths. You would have been safer without him. Now, he was risking both of your lives on top of countless others to unsure that the two of you were together. It wasn’t hard for him to decide to come save you, but it was difficult for him to convince himself to come along for the ride.

“Y/N, love, we need to go. Now.”

You shook your head in agreement, but your feet wouldn’t move on their own accord. Peter felt your grasp tighten on his arm and saw how your eyes seemed to droop.

“No, no, no…” he mumbled. “Y/N, please, we have to get moving.”

“I-I can’t, Peter. My l-legs.”

No matter how hard you tried, whatever smoke you seemed to be inhaling was making you feel limp. You knew that this was going to slow the both of you down, but the material against your face just wasn’t thick enough for you to avoid inhaling the fumes.

In a swift movement, you were suddenly in Peter’s arms, his cloth no longer around his nose. He was inhaling it just as much as you now, but he made a quick effort to get out of the prison. Everything was a blur. You could hear Peter breathing heavily, only praying that whatever the smoke did to you wouldn’t befall Peter too. This was likely your only chance to get out. Another chance wouldn’t arise when MJ realized what the two of you had done.

It didn’t seem like the two of you had gotten far, but when you heard the sounds of water splashing beneath Peter’s footsteps, you knew you were further than you thought. You had been slipping in and out of consciousness. You were shocked that it didn’t seem to be affecting Peter more than it did. He must not have had enough time to inhale it properly because he wasn’t stumbling or coughing anymore. Peter began to fumble with something on his person, letting his hadn fall from under your legs momentarily. More metal could be heard before a click sounded through the dark tunnel. The small gate opened and you were busy trying to keep yourself awake in case you needed to be aware of your surroundings. Your eyes were closed, but you could tell that you were outside the palace now, the light from the moon illuminating through your eyelids. Crickets were chirping around you and Peter, but whatever noises you were making were louder. Evidently, you had been whimpering because he turned to you, shushing you softly and kissing your forehead that was leaned against his shoulder. The more that you tried to keep your eyes open, the more the exhaustion crept over you. You didn’t want to become a burden in your own liberation, but whatever concoction that Peter whipped up to knock the guards out certainly had done a number on you.

“Is she okay? You didn’t let her inhale it, did you?” you heard a familiar voice ask.

“I tried to stop her but she got too close too fast. I didn’t have enough time to warn her.” He paused. “I got some of it too, but I don’t think I had enough to knock me out like her.”

You loosened your arms from around Peter’s neck enough to get your head out of Peter’s chest. One look at the red hair was enough to know that you should have figured she’d still have a hand in assisting your escape.

“W-wanda?” you managed to slip out.

She must have heard your small voice, coming over and immediately combing her hand over your hair, pushing whatever was in the way out of your face.

“Hey, Y/N,” she calmed you.

“Where are we going?” you managed to ask softly.

“Peter’s gonna take you somewhere. Even I don’t know. But it’s for your safety.”

You nodded along, feeling as if you were understanding everything the moment the words left her lips, but the more you let the words soak in, you realized what she truly meant. Blinking a few times, you could see the tears falling from her eyes.

“N-no, no, no, no, no…” you began to cry, sounding more like a child as you hurried out your oppositions.

“I know, I know. But it’s for your safety. For all of our safety.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” you whined.

“I-” Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her, threatening to show you just how upset that she was. But she couldn’t let you see that. Turning around, she moved to the horse, making sure all of the straps were secure.

Peter let her have a moment, responding to you himself. “Love, it’s okay. You’ll see her again. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” His hand slipped under your chin, wiping the tears off with his thumb. He followed your best friend towards the horse, calming you down in the process.

“I’ve got everything set. You know where to go?”

“Once she’s safe, I’ll let you know. I just… can’t risk it right now.”

She shook her head in response. “Make sure she gets my letter when she feels better.”

“I will.”

Wanda stepped away from the horse, ready to take you while Peter mounted. He handed you off gently, making sure that your feet were steady on the ground and Wanda was supporting you enough before letting go. Getting on the horse, made him anxious to be separated from you. While he knew that he could trust Wanda, he felt that you weren’t safe unless you were with him. At the same time, though, you were probably in the most danger with him. The red head supported you when Peter reached out for you. With every bit of your strength, you pulled yourself up and into Peter’s lap and fell back into his arms, just as you were moments ago, curled up into his chest. Once he felt comfortable that you were settled, he bid a short farewell to Wanda, riding off into the forest.

“Pete,” you muttered. He looked down at you, keeping one hand on the reigns and the other around your back. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about that, just sleep.”

And you did.

“I want to know where they are! How could he slip right under your noses?”

“Your Majesty, if I could-”

“Shut up! You have been no help to me, Stark,” MJ’s voice thundered through the room. “Maybe your soft spot for the boy is more prominent than I thought.”

“Princess, I can assure you-”

“Assure me what? Assure me that my only collateral has run away? Assure me that you’ll never see the light of day again? Cause you’ve done a fine job of that so far.”

Lord Stark stayed silent this time, cowering at the creature that was seated on Peter’s father’s throne. The throne room had been transformed into a room of chaos. Whatever magic that had a hold on the princess seemed to radiate through her anger. The curtains that shaded the windows were in tatters, the pillars holding up the ceiling now littered with cracks that only seemed to be growing.The doors burst open, making the princess stand.

“Your Majesty, we have someone who assisted the prisoner and prince.”

Followed shortly after the messenger, to soldiers began dragging a girl into the room, one that bore an all too common head of red hair.

“Get off of me! I haven’t done anything!” she screamed.

The guards grip on her arms didn’t loosen until she was right in front of MJ’s feet, dropping her like a dead weight.

“And who might you be?” she asked coyly.

“Someone who serves the prince, not whoever you are.”

A flame of red rushed around Wanda’s neck, making her grasp at her neck and search for air. She could see the red in the princess’s eyes, brighter than the ripped curtains.

“I won’t ask again. Who. Are. You?”

Just as it appeared the red wisps were gone, allowing the serving girl to breathe again.

“Wanda. I’m a servant.”

“Well, Wanda, someone tells me you had a hand in the prince’s escape from the palace. Might you have any idea where they went?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” the princess asked, stepping down the stairs, closer to Wanda.

“Are deaf or stupid? I said I don’t know.”

“Ooh. Someone’s got a little fire in her,” MJ laughed, sending shivers done your best friend’s spine. Her conniving laugh didn’t stop until she reached the bottom of the stairs and grasped Wanda’s chin, pulling her up to meet in the middle. “Too bad it’s gonna cost you your life,” she spit.

Realization flooded through Wanda as she felt the guards pull her back, she didn’t try to scream or resist this time, feeling numb to the fate she was befalling. She would never see you again, only hoping that you found comfort in her last letter. They had about dragged her out the door completely when she spoke again.

“You’re not going to win.”

MJ’s feet stopped from ascending the stairs and turned around to face the girl once more. “I think you overestimate how much you puny prince can do.”

Without another word, Wanda was escorted out of sight and MJ kept walking.

“Stark, we only have a few hours left. Ensure that Peter doesn’t get in the way. But if he doesn’t give me what I want,” she paused, taking a seat once again, “people are going to start. Getting. Hurt.”

The sun was blinding and nothing you were used to. You hadn’t seen the sun in days and waking up to the bright light was in some ways comforting. Your fingers reached beneath you to feel cloth and a mattress, making you shoot straight up. The room was small, but it was the perfect cottage bedroom, only a small curtain separating you and whatever was making a crackling noise on the other side. You threw the sheets off of you and stepped onto the wood floor. Taking a look around the room, you were sure to be quiet, unsure if anyone else was in here.

But Peter… Where was he?

Stopping your tour of the room, you made your way to the curtain, bunching it up to see the other side. It was a small kitchen, a wooden table in the middle and cupboards that held food and dishes. There was a small oven with something cooking inside. Peter stood near the window, looking outside. He had yet to notice you, so you decided to let him know that you were awake. You had so many questions.

“Pete?”

He turned, startled by your voice. “Y/N, you’re awake.” Hurrying toward you, he engulfed you in his arms, picking you up and twirling you around. “You’re okay. How do you feel? Are you hungry? I'm assuming they didn't feed you much. Is your head okay? I know you inhaled a lot of smoke when I got you out.”

Peter continued to rant and ask you questions and all the while, you couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. He got you out. He saved you. He stupidly put his life and his whole kingdom at risk for you. There was nothing but adoration and love shining in his eyes and you didn’t want to look away. You still didn’t understand how the two of you had gotten here. It seemed like only hours ago, he was kicking you out of his room in the palace, too caught up in grieving to care about anyone else but himself. Now, here you both were, in the middle of who knows where, holding one another. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the boy in front of you and now you were sure that he would do the same. Not that you doubted him before, but because you didn’t want him to. You were - are - nothing compared to him. You didn’t want him to risk a future for you, but you knew that if you told him, he would just tell you that he didn’t want a future without you in it. You knew it was cheesy, but it made you feel a comfort that you hadn’t in a long time. You hadn’t realized that Peter had stopped talking, now silent as he stared back at you.

“Y/N?”

Crashing his lips onto yours, you savored the moment that you two were finally, both consciously in one another’s arms once again. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, one that felt familiar, that felt like home. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you into his body. You broke the kiss with a smile, encircling your arms around his neck.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi.”

“I don’t mean to sour the mood, but…what happened?”

He chuckled at your first statement. “You, uh, fell asleep. Whatever Wanda used in the knock out stuff got you too. The moment you were on the horse, you were out. And I didn’t want to wake you.” He reached up to grab a stray piece of hair falling in front of your face. “I got all of the stuff off the horse. And let you sleep.”

“Have you slept?”

“I don’t think I could’ve anyways,” he admitted. He was going to continue, but didn’t know if he could put the extra strain on you after the past week.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s the princess. She gave me an ultimatum.”

“I know. Twenty-four hours. Wanda told me.”

“Ho-”

“Peter, look. If you wanna do this thing alone, be my guest. I won’t interfere if that’s what you want. But know that you don’t have to. Who do you think the people would rather have lead them? Some princess they hardly know or the prince that has been looking after them since he was a little boy?”

He wanted to disagree with you, but he knew there was no point. You were right. He knew that it was safer to do this alone, but the thought of anyone else getting hurt on his behalf felt like too much of a burden.

“Y/N, I don’t have a lot of time. MJ…she isn’t who she says she is, at least I don’t think so. There’s this…aura to her. It’s not normal, almost as if something is controlling her. She’s dangerous.”

“If you don’t want me to deal with her, Peter, then I won’t. But please…let me help.” You paused. “What can I do?”

Giving in was going to be easier than withholding things from you. Trust had become a fragile thing in Peter’s life, but he knew that if there was anyone in the world that he would never doubt, it would be you.

“I don’t have an exact idea, but I’ve got some clue on where to start.”

When you and Peter got into the armory, you both assumed that there would be someone in there, but apparently, MJ had the soldiers occupied elsewhere. You had completely expected the need for weapons, nevertheless, you were shocked when Peter handed you a sword.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Use it."

"You know what I meant."

Peter placed his sword in its place on his side. "To protect yourself. Look, this is a dangerous situation and I might not always be able to help. If I'm to go head-to-head with the princess, you can't be anywhere near me. She'll use you as leverage, I just know it. I'm not - I WILL not - lose you again."

You nodded, pushing down the argument that you wanted to help. It was a given that you were going to be an inconvenience, but you couldn't just let him waltz into the castle alone. While you hadn't seen what MJ was capable of, you still feared for his safety. Any protection you could provide for him was better than nothing.

"Peter, I'm not going anywhere."

You stood on your tippy-toes to plan a kiss on his cheek. It seemed to calm him down for the time being while you finished preparing your weapons. You had yet to run into anyone in the castle, but the sooner you got out of the armory, the more you had to worry about running into people.

"When we make it up to the main hall, I want you to go to my room," Peter began. "I want you to stay hidden until I come back to find you."

"But-"

"No, no 'buts.' Stay hidden until I come back, understand?"

You shook your head, following Peter as he ascended the stairs in the corner of the armory. They led through the kitchen towards the main hall. When you reached the top, you were to go right while he traveled in the opposite direction. He wanted to say goodbye, but wasn't sure if he should. He didn't want this to be the last one, but he also didn't want to leave you with nothing. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the little necklace that he'd given you only days ago. He had his ring on the chain as well, taking its place next to his mother’s pendant. You shared a look, yourself not knowing what was happening. Before you knew it, Peter was reaching behind your neck to clasp the necklace. When it was connected, his fingers retraced the chain to the simple pendant hanging on the front.

“Keep it safe for me?”

You had vowed that there would be now tears, but looking at Peter for what could be the last time made your heart want to break. You had considered the possibility of one, if not both, of you not making it out of here alive. But your heart yearned for that not to be true. Peter had always told himself that he could never go on if something were to happen to you. At first you had dismissed it, but the more that you had fallen for the boy, the more that you realized you felt the same way. A life without Peter seemed pointless now. You probably sounded ridiculous, some servant girl in love with the prince, her life doomed without him by her side, but it was anything but. It was your reality.

You placed your hand on top of his resting on his chest. “You’ll have to kiss me to get it back,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Thankfully, he smiled, keeping his hand under yours for a moment. When he began to pull away, your fingers subconsciously tightened around his, but they weren’t strong enough to keep him from backing away. The throne room was yet another corridor away, where Peter would wait to encounter the princess. He began to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on you. When he turned around to begin running, it felt like your heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. Trying to be strong, you turned too, making your own trek towards the all too familiar bedroom. Your fingers had yet to leave the ring sitting on the chain of your necklace. You twirled it around like you had done less than twenty four hours ago, sitting in a jail cell. Only prayers would allow you to return the ring to him.

When you rounded the corner, your hand fell from the piece of jewelry to the sword on your side. There was no one in sight but you wanted to be prepared in case there was anyone uninvited in Peter’s room. The door wasn’t ajar and you didn’t want to make much sound so as to alert anyone of your presence, so you only opened the door enough for you to fit through. Your mistake was not taking a loot inside first. One step into the room and there was a figure standing behind Peter’s desk, staring out through the windows into the courtyard.

“Ah, yes. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for your arrival.”

You cleared your throat, so as not to let the fear show. “Lord Stark.”

When Peter entered the throne room, he was expecting anything but the chaos he encountered. The room that his parents had kept pristine, in perfect condition was in ruin. Curtains torn, metal posts knocked over, cracks in the foundations and pillars. But the thing that made him want to throw up the most was the sight of his fathers’s throne aflame. But it wasn’t just any fire. It was a fire that had a red tint to it, almost unnatural. He quickly had his way up to try and extinguish it, but the flames weren’t burning the throne like they seemed to be. In curiosity, he moved his hand threw it and was surprised when he felt no burning pain on his skin.

“I was wondering how long you’d wait.”

At the sound of her voice, Peter drew his sword. Turning around, he as quick to place her walking through the doors, wearing a simple gown his mother had worn often.

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

“You were always one to make an entrance, though,” she voiced, completely ignoring his comment. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show. But then, again I knew you’d come back to protect your people. Or should I say my people? Are you ready to give up?”

“Not quite.” Lunging forward quickly, he swung his blade, preparing to strike her when the red wisps began to encircle them both. After a few seconds, they evaporated, allowing the prince to see that the princess was no longer in front of him, nor was he standing in the same spot.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to draw blood, Pete.”

He ran towards her again, swinging the sword towards her head, but the same thing happened again and suddenly he was in a different corner of the room. Aimlessly, he continued, hoping that a strike would finally hit. But once he took too many steps forward, he sent himself flying into the stairs, his sword flying out of his hand. He would have moved but he could only feel something circling his wrists and pulling him back towards the ground. MJ was standing over him, his sword in hand.

“How fitting for you to die for your people? They really don’t deserve you.” She laughed as Peter began to pull against the red restraints keeping him held down. Placing the sword on his forehead, she began to trail it down his face, his abdomen. “Any last words?”

The doors to the throne room suddenly flew themselves open, with you and Lord Stark walking through. “Let him go or the necklace goes!”

The princess looked up at you, the necklace in your hand, with a look of panic. “NO!” She launched herself at you, but before she could, a sword was pointed towards her, Stark defending you. “Ah, ah, ah. You heard her. Let the boy go…”

“Y/N, what’s going on? The necklace?” Peter asked.

“Is a little bit more than one of your mother’s trinkets?” you started. “Did you ever wonder why MJ conveniently showed up after your parents deaths? Your mother knew what this could do.”

“Enough. I’ll let him go!” The restraints holding Peter down were suddenly gone. He scrambled to his feet quickly, making his way around MJ and towards you.

“The necklace that Peter gave me was more than just a piece of jewelry to hang around my neck. It was a symbol of love and protection as it was for his mother. In the hands of the wrong person, it could become a beacon of destruction.”

“But in the hands of the right people,” Tony continued, “it could protect those around them from the dangers that magic possessed.”

Without another word, you dropped the necklace, stepping on it with your heel before the princess could stop you. Both Peter and MJ yelled out opposition, but there was nothing to stop the now rising gold dust. Stark held Peter back when you blew the dust in MJ’s direction. The gold dust seemed to form a similar pattern to the red wisps of MJ’s magic, encircling her. There was bits of red getting caught in the gold when a loud scream broke across the room, deafening all of you. Peter grabbed hold of you, pulling you into him and keeping your head against his chest. Both of you kept your eyes closed, waiting for the madness to be over.

When the room was silent, you turned your head to where the princess was moments ago. In her place was a girl. She was crouched on the floor, cuddled into herself, and rocking back and forth. You moved out of Peter’s grasp and towards the girl. The closer you got the more clear it was that she was whispering to herself. You kneeled down next to her and placed a hand on her back. She flinched at your touch, getting out of her previous position and backing away. It was still the princess, only looking broken and dull. Her eyes were dark with circles underneath and her skin was pale. Was this really the same girl in front of you only moments ago?

“MJ?” you asked.

She took a moment before speaking up. “W-what have I-I done?” she whimpered.

You didn't respond, only held your arms out for her and waited. She looked at you with a questionable look. Why would you want to help her after she had caused so much pain? When you didn't seem to shy away, she crawled back towards you and fell into your arms. You could feel her tears falling onto your skin as you looked up at Peter. He didn't say anything either, just watching the scene unfold before him. The throne room was silent besides the cries of the broken princess.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be out in the gardens. Working and living at the palace for years, you had come to find peace within sitting in the flowers. There was something about the scents that relaxed you, allowing you to daydream about a life beyond the castle walls. Wanda would join you whenever you both had a chance, reading stories to one another, playing games at a younger age, and gossiping about the court. Her favorites were wishbone flowers. They symbolized happiness, reminding her that even though she may not have the life that she wanted, she was truly happy. Friends, you, people around her were what gave her a life of joy. You had plucked a full bouquet of wishbones which now took their place in front of her gravestone.

“I miss you, Wanda. So much.” Tears were falling from your eyes, leaving warm wet trails down your cheeks. “I got your letter. Peter gave it to me when…when I found out. There’s no way to tell you how much I love you. I wouldn’t be here without you and it’s going to be so hard now that you’re gone. I promise I’ll keep visiting whenever Peter actually lets me out of his sight.” You chuckled to yourself, knowing that she would’ve laughed too. You turned around to look at Peter, who was waiting by the horses. He gave you a look of concern, but you returned it with a smile, letting him know that you were okay. “You don’t have to worry about me, though. He’s got me. He loves me. And I love him.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #prince peter parker #royal peter parker #peter parker series

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shellshocklove · 10 months

Text

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: reunions are always sweet, aren’t they?

warnings: swearing, infertility, smut (+18 mdni!!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this one’s interesting that’s for sure! very curious to hear people’s thoughts on this tbh! 😳 also this is barely edited. i only read through this once!

series masterlist

“Your Majesty! His Majesty gave orders that he did not want to be disturbed!”,

The muffled voice travelled through the door to Tom’s office. He found himself spending more and more time in here. It was the only place where he could get some peace and quiet, and not be bothered by all the vultures at court clawing for a piece of him.

The door flew open, and his Queen, Genevieve, burst into his office. Quickly, and as discreetly as he could, Tom folded the paper he’d been reading, tucking it away under a notebook.

“Leave us!” she ordered the guards; anger coated her words.

She looked pretty, he noted. Her summer dress ruffled with every stomp towards him. Daisies ruffling in the wind. The sweetness of her outfit, dimming the impact of her scrunched face. With a hard stop in front of his desk she slammed her hand down.

“What’s going on?” Tom queried calmly.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Gen huffed, gesturing toward his desk where a pregnancy test was left in her wake.

Tom’s stomach turned at the sight. Like a crystal ball the small plastic stick would tell him his future. With a shaky hand he picked up the test, feeling the sting of Genevieve’s eyes. Holding his breath, he turned the stick around.

One line. Not pregnant.

Relieved he huffed out a breath, “It didn’t work”.

“Are you seriously happy right now?” Gen spat. “After all the treatments I’ve had to go through, all the hormones and a fucking egg retrieval– you’re fucking happy!?”.

“What– No,” he lied.

And then Genevieve did something he wished she didn’t. She started crying.

“No, you are!” she sobbed, “Why do you do this to me? Do you know how much pressure I’m under, huh? Do you?”.

“Gen,” Tom tried.

“Don’t ‘Gen’ me” she pointed an angry finger at him, “Nobody cares about me– do you know that? I’m not important like you are, I’m just your wife! All they want from me is a baby. Every time I’m photographed the gossip train starts: ‘She’s gained weight, hasn’t she?’, “That must be a baby bump’” her shoulders shook with exhaustion as she spoke.

Carefully Tom got up from his office chair, taking soft steps around his desk, before he wrapped his arms around her shoulder.

“Ge–“ he cut himself off.

“I’m twenty-six years old, Tom, I should have no problem getting pregnant! I don’t understand why we have to do it like this” Gen cried into his shoulder.

Tom didn’t say anything, he only rubbed her back in soothing circles, trying his best to calm her down. She’d been extra emotional these last couple of months. And he didn’t blame her. He knew the hormone treatment took a toll on her body. He felt ashamed that it had come to this. IVF. In vitro fertilisation. Nothing was wrong with them – the tests said so – but he just couldn’t do it. He was married to Genevieve, and still he couldn’t have sex with her without feeling like he was cheating.

“We still have more embryos,” he started, trying to comfort her, “we can try again next month”.

With a huff she pushed him away, “What’s the point, Tom? You don’t even love me! You’ve never loved me”. A tear hung in a thread from her left eye, waiting to spill.

His silence said it all. He just stared at her in disbelief. She’d never been so straightforward with him before.

“Are you even capable of loving anyone?” she asked him, her words tasted bitter. “You avoid me like the plague, you stay in this room every chance you get… When was the last time you spoke to your brothers? Or Harrison? Or Tuwaine?”.

Tom didn’t know if she was concerned about him, or if she was just accusing him of being heartless. And maybe he was. His heart had been taken a long time ago, and he had yet to get it back.

Staring at her, his wife, he had a hard time forming words. He felt his throat constrict around the words,

“I…”.

“What?” Gen spat.

I didn’t want to get hurt again, he thought. But he couldn’t utter the words. When he, again, said nothing, Genevieve scoffed.

“That’s what I thought!”.

She quickly wiped her tears before she grabbed the pregnancy test off his desk. Turning on her heels, she let his office doors slam behind her.

Sitting back in his chair, Tom wanted to cry. How had his life come to this? With a groan he fell back against the leather, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back his tears. When colours started to swim before him, he sat back up again. Scanning his desk, his eyes landed on the paper he’d snuck under his notebook earlier.

Pulling it out again his eyes skimmed the words.

“Dear His Majesty the King

On the 23rd of July we invite all prominent alumni to attend our 200th anniversary as a university. The gala will start at 7pm and be held on campus grounds. There will be dinner, drinks, and entertainment. Attire: Formal.”

“No Queen Genevieve tonight, Your Majesty?” The Vice-Chancellor asked Tom as she guided him towards the gala. He’d been ceremoniously met at the entrance by the whole senior cabinet of chancellors, where pictures had been taken and interviews had been held by the press.

“No, unfortunately Her Majesty wasn’t feeling well” he apologised knowing that was far from the truth.

After their fight and the failed IVF attempt, Gen had barely spoken to him. Having her accompanying him to an event like this after weeks of silence sounded awful. He didn’t think he could put on a smile and pretend everything was fine when he knew she hated him. He also didn’t want to push his luck with her. She’d agreed to another round of insemination – and as much as he wished he didn’t – he needed her to get pregnant.

But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want her to attend.

“That’s unfortunate… Please send Her Majesty our well wishes!”

“Thank you– I will” Tom promised.

Passing through the doors of the ballroom, Tom noticed he was the last one to arrive. Round tables, heavily decorated with flowers, filled up the room before a stage. A steady hum of conversation filled up the room as penguin dressed waiters circled the tables, pouring wine.

“We really appreciate The King taking the time to attend tonight and holding the opening speech! And as a thank you, we did our best to grant His Majesty’s wishes for the seating arrangements– it’s so important to reconnect with old classmates!” The Vice-Chancellor said, guiding him through a door to the backstage.

The speech Tom held was as basic as they could come, and Tom wouldn’t have had it any other way. What was there really to say except for some semi-sincere words about his time at the university, and how important education is. He was happy his speech writer had kept it short because he couldn’t wait to get it over with.

After a round of applause he eagerly he got off stage. The reason for his eagerness sitting right in front of him with an empty seat beside her.

“Your Majesty,” you said, a timid smile on your face as he found his seat. The table cards placed him a chair away from you, noticing that they’d assigned a seat for Gen beside you.

“Miss. y/l/n” he said ceremoniously, trying his hardest to fight back his smile and revealing how happy he was to see you again. A waiter quickly stepped forward after he’d taken his seat, nervously asking if he preferred red or white wine for the appetisers. With a quick glance at the menu placed on his plate before him, revealing seafood, he decided on white wine.

“You can clear all this,” Tom gestured to the seat separating him from you, while the waiter poured his wine, “Her Majesty isn’t coming tonight”.

“How about… uh” Tom heard you speak. Glancing over at you, he watched you shift nervously in your seat. “We just do this?” you quickly grabbed your own table card, switching it with Gen’s.

“Is that okay?” you questioned, biting your lip.

“More than okay!” Tom reassured you quickly.

Grabbing your purse by your feet you got up from your seat. You were clad in a silk dress, one Tom recognized. A memory flashed before his eyes. You in his lap on his birthday. He could still remember the feel of the silk fabric under his hand as he pushed it away to reveal your soft skin underneath.

You sat down beside him, your foot accidentally brushing against his as you got comfortable. You looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembered. He almost couldn’t believe that you were real.

He’d almost not done it – his request. The university had asked him to speak, and he’d countered with his wish of being seated with his former classmates – specifically you. It was a dangerous request – but seeing you smile at him again – he found himself not giving a shit.

“I’m sorry Tom,” you giggled, courtesy of the wine, “I need the loo”.

He’d missed you so much he didn’t understand how he’d been able to go all those years without you. He missed the feeling you gave him. Your conversations. To be understood without saying a word. The fact that he’d barely spoken to anyone else but you the whole night didn’t bother him much. He was like an addict, and you were his drug. An innocent taste was enough for him to never want to leave ever again. His longing for you had not been fed in years, and now it had grown too large. It ached to be relieved.

“Yeah, me too” he was quick to say, getting up from his seat, “I’ll walk you”.

Looking up at him, you tilted your head like a puppy before a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. It hit him right in the heart.

“Escorted by royalty? I must be one lucky girl” you teased.

He’d missed your jokes too, and how they were always at his royal expense. You treated him like just Tom, and no one had treated him like that in years. With a hesitant hand at the small of your back, he led you towards the toilets.

Waiting for you outside the toilets, all Tom’s bad decisions replayed in his head. He was fucking stupid for even entertaining this idea – but he was desperate. He’d denied himself for too long. His stupid head always got in the way. For once in his life, he wanted to follow his heart, if only for one moment.

“You finished?” he looked up from where he’d studied the floor. Your heels clicked as you stepped closer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “no line in the men’s”.

You hummed, swinging your leg back behind you. “Ready to go back?” you asked, smiling.

“Can we…” he trailed off. Why was he so nervous? He never used to be this nervous around you.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, “You okay?”. He thought his heart was going to stop when your hand came up to rub lovingly over his bicep. He let out a breathy chuckle,

“Yeah… just, can we talk in private?”.

Your rubbing hand stopped at his question before you let it fall. You bit your lip, your eyes dancing over his face. Before you answered, Tom looked around the corridor. With the coast clear he pushed off the wall and opened the door to the accessible toilet. You hesitated for a moment, your front teeth digging deeper into your lip before you quickly stepped inside.

At the sound of the lock clicking, Tom stopped thinking – but he didn’t want to think – not if it wasn’t about you. He crossed the space between you, pulling you closer to him. His hands shook with wanting.

“Tom–” he cut you off with a kiss.

He could finally breathe again. He shed his straitjacket. The weight of his crown fell to the floor. You kissed him back, and he could cry with happiness. He felt your hands around his neck. The silk fabric of your dress bunching in his hands as he pulled you closer.

“I miss you” he mumbled against your lips, “I miss you all the time”.

You whined into his mouth. He’d missed that sound, so sure he’d never hear it again.

With careful steps he walked you both backwards until your bum hit the sink. He was greedy. Hands exploring your body, feeling your familiar bumps and curves, the one’s he’d memorised so many years ago.

A smacking sound bounced off the tiles as you pulled away from his kiss. You were breathing hard under his touch. Your eyes looked at him with longing and sadness, and guilt. He shook his head, cupping your cheek to try and comfort you.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, darling!” his thumb traced circles against your skin, “This is only on me”,

“You have a wife,” you whispered. The look you gave him made his heart break.

“It should’ve never been her– only you!” he pecked your lips.

Your eyes fell shut from his kiss. Your eyelashes kissed the soft skin under your eyes as your face twisted in agony.

“I’ve missed you” you confessed.

Tom couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He kissed you with a feverish touch. Hands sliding over your arse where he gave it a squeeze. With a small jump he helped you to sit on the sink, legs spread for him to slot between. He pressed himself against you. He was rock hard. His cock straining against the front seam of his tuxedo pants. Pushing the silk from your thighs, he collected the fabric around your waist. With a press of a finger to your clit, you mewled against his lips.

Tom didn’t waste any time. He slipped his hand inside your panties, feeling how wet you were for him. When he teased his finger at your entrance, you pulled away from his kiss. You looked at him with eyes blown wide with lust.

With a bite to your kiss-swollen lips you gave him a nod. He pushed his finger all the way inside you, smiling when he felt your walls contract around him. Your head fell back with a sigh when he started thrusting his finger inside you.

Tom couldn’t hold back his smile. He’d missed this more than anything. Being intimate with you. There was this connection between you he couldn’t explain, one he hadn’t even noticed was there before it suddenly was gone. He knew exactly what you wanted, how you wanted it, and when.

Quickly pulling out he pushed back inside with a second finger. Under him you moaned. Eager to coax more moans from you he pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it the way he knew you liked.

“Tom” you gasped.

Tom groaned, feeling how his cock twitched in his pants at your name falling from your lips. He needed to make you come, to watch you fall apart for him. He sped up the thrusts of his fingers, every slap against your wet cunt coinciding with a circling of your clit.

You tipped your head forward, “Please…” you begged, a hand gripping his jacket.

“What– what do you want, baby, tell me” he asked. He curled his fingers inside you and hit your spot, making your eyes widen and a gasp fall from your lips.

“I–I’m close” you let him know. Your eyes were intense. He knew he’d drown in them if he wasn’t careful.

He never let up his pace, “It’s okay, baby, you can come!”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as he felt your clench around his fingers. He slowed his movement down as you rode your euphoric high. He loved the way you looked as you came. You let everything go. Baring your truest self to him. Your chest heaved as you came down. He slowly pulled out, gently dragging his fingers through your folds.

Your hand on his tuxedo jacket pulled him closer. Your lips on him in an instant. The kiss was tender and tasted way too sweet. A quiet thank you without uttering the words.

He withdrew his hand from your panties before he hooked a finger under the waistband to pull them down, just above your knees.

Your own hand palmed him over his pants, making him involuntarily buck into your touch. If he didn’t fuck you soon, he think he’d combust. You fumbled with his button and zipper before dipping your hand inside his pants and taking his cock out.

Taking him in your hand, you wasted no time. He was so hard; the head was dripping with precum. With a finger skating over the head you slicked him up, and gave him an experimental tug. Your hand was so soft. He’d missed your hands too.

Falling forward, he buried his head in your neck. “Can I fuck you?” he asked, pressing kisses up your skin.

“Please” you begged, hands letting go of his cock.

He stood up straighter and stepped even closer to you. With his hands on your waist, he pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you lifted your legs, panties constricting you slightly.

Grabbing his cock, he ran the head through your folds before he pushed inside you. Tom savoured the feeling, the soft velvet of your walls swallowing him. He wanted to go slowly, to drag it out, but he was desperate. Desperate for you.

He reeled his hips back, before he slammed back inside you. God, you squeezed him just right. You felt like heave. He was not gonna last.

He picked up his pace. A slick sound muffled by the slapping of his skin against yours, melded with your combined grunts and moans.

He was an awful man. An awful man for loving you. An awful man for being unfaithful to his wife. An awful man for not feeling guilty. Being with you didn’t feel like cheating. Nothing had felt as simple as this. Loving you was the easiest thing in the world. And nothing or no one could make him feel ashamed for loving you.

You mewled under him at a particular hard thrust. He couldn’t control himself – he was so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry” he panted, “I’m gonna come”.

“It’s okay” your breath was heavy, “Come for me, Tom, please”.

The coil in his stomach snapped, and he fell off the edge. He didn’t have the sense to pull out, emptying himself inside you with a heavy groan. He pulled you even closer, hugging you to his body – wanting to feel close to you.

“I love you” he said softly, “I love you so much”.

He was so fucked. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except you.

previous: the wedding | next: the end

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @peterparkerfilms, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg, @obsessedprincess, @alltoowelltom, @hey-im-bored504, @storybookholland, @sadisticsongbird, @prettyjendeukie,