What About Professor Layton, Hes Never Invited To These Kind Of Things

what about professor layton, he’s never invited to these kind of things 😔

praying to satan as i always do at this time

quick what is everyone doing right now

my hyperfixation at the moment !!

Infinitely You pt.12

previous part -

word count - 5.2k

Summary - In every universe you are the one person Peter Parker will always love more than anything; unfortunately, he always realizes it too late. Now that they've been granted a second chance none of them are willing to miss out on finally making things right.

gentle reminder - reblogs, comments, and feedback are the best way to support writers on tumblr! opinions are always welcome and so appreciated!

name key: tom!peter = peter ; andrew!peter = paker ; tobey!peter = pete

“Do you think it’s a side effect?” 

Eight hours. 

“Of the memory probe?” 

It had been eight hours since Peter and Dr. Strange had left the Sanctum in search of the super soldier formula. 

“Yeah.” 

Eight hours. 

“I don’t know–I don’t think so. I mean, she saw your world, not mine.” 

It had been eight hours since I realized that there was something wrong. 

“Well the wizard said memories from every world are in her head, right? Maybe some wires just got crossed or something!” 

I already had a feeling something bad had happened with the memory probe. That it had triggered something. Unblocked something. Even after being released from her memories, I could still feel her. Her emotions still ran rampant within me, as if they had become a part of me. 

“I don’t think it works like that.” 

Eventually, her emotions became little more than a dull thrum echoing in the back of my mind. I felt them but they were distant, overpowered by my emotions. 

“We need the wizard.” 

But then came the memories. With the version of myself from Parker’s world, it felt normal to still visualize pieces of her life. After all, I had just invaded her mind, relieved her past. But Pete… I hadn’t even realized. I hadn’t noticed when I uttered Harry’s name, recalling a memory that wasn’t mine. 

“No fucking shit-” 

I hadn’t noticed her. I hadn’t noticed that her memories were bleeding into my own. I hadn’t noticed. 

“Okay, you know what? You don’t have to be a dick! I’m trying to help-” 

According to what Dr. Strange had said, their memories have always laid dormant in my mind—so why now? 

After all of this time, why can I see them now? Why can I feel them? 

“Can you two stop arguing?” 

Both of them fell silent at the sound of my voice, their attention immediately shifting to where I sat on the floor, criss-crossed legs with my back pressed against the wall. I hadn’t spoken at all since Pete and I got to the condo, and so both of them looked a bit shocked to hear me speak. 

“Please.” I added on, hoping it would dull the rather sharp edge of my previous statement. 

I wasn’t mad at them for fighting, although it was annoying. I’d expected it though. But this felt like an all hands on deck situation, and seeing as though we couldn’t go to Dr. Strange right now, getting Parker involved seemed like a good idea. 

Pete clearly didn’t agree. 

“Sorry.” Parker breathed out an apology, running a hand through his hair. “Not helping.” 

We all knew the meaning behind his comment, that their bickering wasn’t helping to ease my anxiety surrounding the situation, but I still noticed the sideways glance Pete gave him, obviously thinking it applied in a much more general sense as well. I didn’t bother acknowledging it. 

“How soon after the probe did it start? Knowing stuff from Pete’s world.” Parker’s question caught me off-guard, especially since I’d half-expected them to just find a way to go back to arguing. 

I wondered if Parker had noticed just how different Pete was acting towards him, if he’d somehow sensed that the animosity was about more than just our unfortunate circumstances. I wondered if I should tell him that I told Pete about our kiss or if it would just make matters worse. 

I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s not like it’s something that really started. I didn’t even realize what I was saying until he pointed it out.” 

I realized it now though. 

I could see it now. 

But it wasn’t the same as when I’d used the memory probe. Then, the memories washed over me all at once, forcing me into her mind. It felt unnatural and foreign. Now, though, it was as if their memories were just bleeding into my own. They didn’t feel like they belonged to someone else. Instead, they felt like they were mine. 

“Is it… easy?” 

I felt bad for Parker. He was truly trying his best to be helpful, to try and help in decoding whatever was happening to me. Unfortunately, all three of us were clueless right now. 

“Looking through their memories, I mean.” He clarified, moving to sit down on the arm of the couch just a few feet away from me. 

I shook my head. “Not really. Not compared to thinking about my own, you know? I’ve been trying but I don’t even know where to start.” 

“That makes sense.” Pete noted. “Hard to comb through memories that don’t belong to you.” 

None of us were really capable of relaxing right now, but Pete was by far the most tense. I could tell that he was still working through whatever misplaced frustration he’d shoved onto me, evident by the way he still tried to avoid eye contact. But he also refused to sit down, standing just a couple inches away from me, arms crossed over his chest and letting his body act as a shield; like he was trying to protect me. 

I don’t think he knew what he was protecting me from anymore.  

Parker looked to Pete. “Do you think that’s why talking to you triggered one of them?” 

He considered the idea, narrowing his eyes at the floor. “Kickstarted a memory. Gave her brain something to latch onto.” 

“A path.” Parker continued Pete’s thoughts. 

“So it’s like the memory probe-” Pete shifted his body a little, his chest turning a little closer to me, but he remained focused on the floor, “in order to find the memories you need a guide. Someone to push you in the right direction.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing icy palms against my flushed cheeks. My head was starting to hurt. “But at least with the probe I knew that the memories weren’t mine!” I huffed out. “This feels different.” 

It was quiet for a minute as they both tried to think. Parker was the first one to share a theory. 

“The memory probe is a tool.” He said it like it was some huge revelation, Pete and I both squinting our eyes at him. He carried on. “Strange said you carried all the memories inside of you—every multiverse, every y/n—right? You just didn’t have access to them.” I nodded along. “I think using the probe changed that.” 

“Could you get to your point a little faster?” Pete grumbled out in the midst of Parker’s dramatic pause, earning him an eye roll. 

“Most people using the probe would only be sorting through one mind at a time, but you have several. Theoretically, if you couldn’t access those other memories, it would mean those neural pathways were dead; maybe your brain's way of protecting you from all the… you know…” death, trauma, and insurmountable grief. “But when you used the probe—” 

“It activated those pathways.” Pete cut him off abruptly, eyes hesitantly lifting to meet his stare. 

Parker’s brows raised as he nodded his head, looking a bit proud of himself, likely for figuring something out before Pete had the chance. 

“Well it did a shitty job.” My dry laugh garnered both of their attention. “At least when I was looking at the memories from Parker’s world I knew that they weren’t actually mine. But now they’re all just… tangled.” I huffed loudly, my frustration bubbling up as I did my best to pick a word to describe the current mess going on inside my head. 

“Because it’s just a tool.” Parker repeated that same phrase he’d uttered just moments ago, as if that were all the explanation he should have to give, like it would make everything suddenly click into place for me. 

It didn’t. 

“Okay, think about it like this,” he sighed as he pressed his elbows into his knees, leaning forward just a touch, “you said they’re tangled, right? So look at all of the different memories as a knot, composed of infinite threads–” 

“And each reality is a different thread.” Pete interjected yet again, skillfully ignoring the sharp glare Parker shot at him. “You can’t differentiate the threads just by looking at the knot.” 

“What does any of this have to do with the memory probe?” The question was directed towards either of them, eyes flicking back and forth from Pete to Parker as they continuously fought for control over the conversation. 

Pete won, taking far too much pride in making Parker’s point for him. I almost rolled my eyes at his childish way of handling his newfound issue with Parker, but refrained. 

“When you were using the probe it untangled them. Made it easy for you to know where the memories were coming from, to see the individual threads.” 

I frowned. “So you’re basically saying that without that I’m just useless without that stupid probe? That I can’t tell where the memories are coming from without using some stupid tool?” 

“Not necessarily.” Parker sounded like he was trying to offer me some semblance of hope, but it certainly wasn’t proving to be an easy task to take on. “It just might take some time to learn how to untangle them on your own.” 

I let my head fall back against the wall, a small groan escaping my lips as it hit. Suddenly, Pete shifted, moving closer to me as I felt the weight of his stare finally rest on my form; still crumpled on the floor, hoping that maybe I’d sink into the carpet and disappear. 

He didn’t kneel beside me as he moved closer, instead allowing himself to continue towering over me. But he moved his hand, letting it rest atop my head, hesitantly brushing his fingers through my hair. 

The gesture was unusual, especially given his current attitude towards me, but still appreciated. 

“We’re gonna figure it out.” He didn’t look sure of himself, as if he didn’t know whether he believed it either. Still, he forced a tight lipped smile and tried to ease my nerves, “Easy peasy, right?” 

I didn’t miss the way Parker’s stare narrowed as Pete’s subtle nod to our past conversation went right over his head. I assumed the comment was meant to make me laugh, an attempt to offer some semblance of comfort, but it didn’t. 

It hadn’t made me sad either, though. Instead, I found that I felt absolutely nothing, even as his nails softly raked against my scalp. 

Nothing that belonged to me, at least. 

“I think I might go lay down.” I shifted, lightly shrugging Pete’s hand off. My head was pounding, a nauseating tension building behind my eyes. “At least until Peter gets back.” 

Both boys nodded at once, each of them understanding that I had no desire to continue hypothesizing with them about this. I had no doubt that they’d pick the conversation back up as soon as I was out of earshot. 

Peter Parker had never been good at shutting off his brain. 

As I lifted myself off the floor, a palm braced flat against the wall as I stood. My legs had all but turned to jelly, and I wasn’t sure if it was from sitting for so long or if my nerves were just entirely shot at this point. When I felt confident enough to let go of the wall, I watched as Parker edged off the arm of the couch, as Pete’s arm drifted closer to me by barely an inch—both of them ready to steady me if needed. 

“I’ll stay here if you need me, alright?” I didn’t look at Pete as he spoke, but I could still hear the silent promise he made. I won’t leave you, I won’t go back to the Sanctum just yet. “If you need either of us.” 

A weak attempt to remain aloof, to correct his previous phrasing. Or maybe it had been his way of resuming his prior irritation, reminding himself of everything we had discussed at the Sanctum that had sent him over the edge. 

Either way it didn't matter and I couldn't bring myself to care. Instead, I just nodded before disappearing behind a closed door, desperate to collapse into bed and pray that unconsciousness would find me soon.

It never did.

I had never had key lime pie before, and yet I could still remember how it tasted on my tongue. 

The dessert was tart in a way that I knew it shouldn’t have been. Its bitterness was overwhelming, my nose scrunching up as my eyes began to well-up, my senses immediately reacting to the strong taste. 

I tried my best to act against them, though. Working to relax the muscles in my face I discreetly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, forcing what I could only hope was a genuine smile to my face. 

“Oh my god, Mj–” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to find the right words, “that was…” 

“Something!” Harry spoke for me, clearly attempting to help, but failing miserably at it. 

Fortunately, another voice decided to add on to our mess, “Something good!” 

If we hadn’t been so desperate to not hurt Mary Jane’s feelings then Harry and I both would have likely started teasing Pete for his horrible attempt at saving us both. It was awkward and outright laughable, but it was also so characteristically Peter that Mj didn’t even think twice about it. 

Instead, she practically beamed as she turned to stare at the three of us. We had all squeezed in on the tiny loveseat in Pete’s living room, a boy on either side of me as we sat with paper plates on our laps, the appalling dessert laid out on top of them. 

In Mary Jane’s defense, for what the pie lacked in flavor it made up for in style. 

It looked good. 

It tasted awful. 

She gave us all a coy smile. “Do you guys really like it?” 

My gaze shifted between Pete and Harry, a quick and subtle glance to make sure that we were all in agreement that we should most definitely lie. The one look was all I needed to be certain. 

“Yes!” 

“Oh my god, of course!” 

“It was delicious!” 

Most would have recognized the chorus of high-pitched compliments as the fabrication they were, but not Mj. 

For a long time I’d believed that she was simply too trusting, maybe even a touch naive. Her unyielding trust in the three of us had left me with a gnawing sense of guilt anytime we’d indulge in one of these little lies. 

Eventually though, after breaking down and confessing every white lie we’d ever told her, I realized I had been completely and utterly wrong about Mj’s naivety. 

Mary Jane often knew we were lying, and she preferred it that way. In her eyes, an untrue compliment was still a compliment, and she experienced a sense of pride nonetheless. 

Her smile grew into a mile wide grin, her hands clasping against her chest as she practically squealed. “You guys are so sweet!” She exclaimed, “I’ll run next door real quick and grab a few more slices for later!”  

We didn’t have time to object before she was already out the door, little more than a flash of red hair outside of the window as she ran to her house, giddy as could be. I instantly looked at Pete who was already staring back at me. His cheeks were flushed. 

“Did she even put sugar in this?” He asked the question so delicately, his voice barely a fraction above a whisper. It was as if he was worried she’d still somehow hear him. 

I laughed. “Don’t think so.” 

Harry sloppily placed his plate on top of mine, smushing the remaining bit of pie. “Please toss these out before she comes back. I’m gonna be sick if I have to choke the rest of it down.” 

He leaned over me slightly as he spoke to Pete, a single hand moving to rest on my knee. I knew Harry well enough to know that the touch was as innocent as it was unnecessary. 

Pete’s jaw tensed, refusing to let himself look down at his friend's hand as he took the plates from me. “Sure.” I could hear the bite in his tone, the soft edge that would go unnoticed by most. 

But he wouldn’t let it go further than that. That’s all Pete was willing to let show—a sense of mild irritation at best, and he did his best to hide even that. 

“You’re wasting your time.” I huffed as soon as Pete rounded the corner to the kitchen, sounding far more exasperated than intended. I had never been as good as him at hiding my feelings. “It’s clearly not working.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, pulling his hand back to his own lap and leaning further into the lumpy sofa. “It’s definitely working.” 

“You’re delusional.” 

“And you’re stupid.” He aimed a finger towards the kitchen. “But not nearly as stupid as him.” 

I sank back into the cushion, mimicking Harry’s position. We were still sitting close enough that our shoulders pressed together. “Maybe you’re right. But we both know Peter,” I picked at the skin around my fingers, frowning to myself, “even if he does… like me–” I cringed at the childlike phrasing, “he’s never gonna admit it.” 

For a minute Harry remained quiet, the only sound between us being his hand hitting against mine in an effort to get me to stop my mindless picking. Then, suddenly, he leaned forward, an idea springing forth. 

“I know what you’ve gotta do!” He was far louder than he should’ve been, and I knew that Pete probably heard him from the kitchen. 

I clamped my hand to his mouth, preventing him from yelling out whatever dumb thought had entered his head. He promptly responded by sticking his tongue out, licking my palm. 

“Gross!” I squealed, quickly pulling back and wiping it on the cushion. 

Harry snorted at the reaction, paying it no further attention as he resumed his previous thought process, fortunately taking care to be a bit quieter now. “I know Peter has a thing for you, ok? He’s just an idiot. So if we can’t make him make the first move…” he trailed off, offering me a vaguely apologetic look, “then you’re gonna have to.” 

I blinked stupidly at him. Then, after a long few minutes, I dropped my head into my hands and groaned, “Nope, that’s it. I’m gonna be single forever.” 

And to make things even worse, my palm now smelled like Mj’s disgusting pie, courtesy of Harry’s spit. 

Nothing about this room looked familiar to me, which was unusual given how at ease I felt standing within it. 

It smelled like bleach, just strong enough that it burnt my lungs a little as I sucked in a breath, carefully surveying the space around me. The room mostly lacked personality—white walls and matching linoleum floors, a few stainless steel tables covered with a variety of plants and flowers—but on the far side of it there was a desk. 

My heart swelled when I looked at it, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I moved in closer. 

A collage of little notes and pictures took up a large portion of the wall behind the desk, and despite never having seen them before, I somehow knew every memory behind them. 

“What are you still doing here?” I thought the sudden voice would’ve made me jump, but it didn’t. Instead I remained perfectly still, focused on the picture taped directly in the center of all the rest. 

Squeezed in tight between Harry and Pete I had my head resting on Pete’s shoulder, the smile on his face so wide that I almost didn’t recognize him. We were all wearing matching sweaters, plastered with some obnoxious Christmas pattern, multi-colored lights illuminating them. 

The three of us looked so happy together. 

The three of us looked like a family. 

“I’ve had trouble sleeping lately.” I admitted, not bothering to look over my shoulder at him. I was talking to Pete, wasn’t I? It sounded like Pete’s voice. “Figured I might as well get some work done.” 

For some reason I hadn’t sounded nearly as happy as I’d looked in my pictures. 

I sounded weak, as if every word I spoke took a great deal of effort. 

Pete seemed to agree, hesitating before saying, “Sounds like you need a break, actually.” 

“I don’t have time for a break.” I snapped, ignoring the pang of guilt that shot through my chest. I worked to settle myself, a bit quieter as I continued, “I’m so close to figuring everything out. I can’t stop now.” 

I reached for the vase on my desk, taking note of how thin and fragile my fingers looked under the fluorescent lights, grabbing hold of it and turning on my heel to face Pete. Only when I turned, I realized it wasn’t Pete—not technically. 

The red spandex clinging to his body had always been a bit of an eyesore, but it stood out even more than usual in this particularly lifeless space. I wondered if it had been different at some point. Surely it had been, right? The room itself lacked color, but all of the plants I had chosen to surround myself with should have brought some life to the space. 

It didn’t matter much either way, I’d guessed, since none of them had much color now. The flora spread out amongst the steel tables had all dried out, leaves having turned various shades of brown, petals scattered across the ground. 

The only living plant in the room was what laid in the vase clutched in my hands. 

It had thin petals that were the same obnoxious shade as Pete’s suit. 

The flower that the Goblin had left for me—the spider lily. 

“I don’t know y/n,” he took a half-step towards me, calculated and cautious, both in how he moved and how he spoke, “looks like you’re closer to a breakdown than a breakthrough.” 

My eyes narrowed to slits, but my response still came across as more of a joke than any sort of true offense, “Screw you too, Spidey.” 

He didn’t offer much in response, not even a laugh. His silence didn’t seem to affect me, as I walked to one of the steel tables and shoved a few dead plants to the side, clearing the way for the vase in my hands. 

I focused my attention on the open notebook resting beside the vase, scanning the messy handwriting.

It looked to continue for several pages, none of it making much sense. The words barely formed a coherent thought as I jumped from one topic to the next, frantic and wholly absurd. I flipped a few pages, only to realize it began to read like a mad man’s diary. It took everything in me to tear my eyes away from it. 

As I looked towards Pete—towards Spider-Man—I noticed that familiar pounding in my head, the growing tension that I’d recently become accustomed to. How long had my head been hurting? It had never hurt this bad before… why did it hurt so much? 

I crouched down, my body moving without permission as I snagged the tote bag resting against the leg of the table, a bag I had never seen before. Still, my scrawny fingers knew exactly which pocket to delve into in order to grab a bottle of acetaminophen. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His knowing tone made my eyes roll back into my head as I popped the little white pills into my mouth, swallowing them dry. 

“I’m sorry—are you my mom now?” I sneered as I rose back to my feet, putting extra effort into ignoring the blinding pain shooting through my skull. 

Pete edged closer. “I’m just looking out for you.” 

The corners of my mouth quirked into a daring grin, staring directly into the white lenses on his mask. “Couple million people in this city and you’ve got nothing better to do than make sure I get some sleep?” 

He stiffened up, a gloved hand immediately reaching for the base of his neck as he suddenly found a great deal of interest in looking at our feet. We both knew the implication behind my words. 

There was no good reason for Spider-Man to be here. He had no connection to me. 

But Peter did. 

Peter cared. 

He just didn’t know how to show it without hiding behind that stupid mask. 

“What’re you working on?” A weak effort to change the trajectory of our conversation. I allowed it for now, letting him distract me as he took another few babysteps in my direction. When he got close enough, I quickly shut the notebook. 

I didn’t want him to see it. 

“Newproject.” I spoke a little too fast, the two separate words fusing into one. 

Pete’s head cocked to the side an inch or so, and I could only imagine the bemused expression on his face. Of course he knew that something was wrong, but he just didn’t have a way of knowing what. 

I thought it was best for him to think it was related to work. 

So I put on my best show, allowing my mask to slip for just a moment, revealing a sliver of how I actually felt to shine through. I brought a hand to my temple, desperate to relieve some of the tension felt there. “I’m trying to see if I can use pancratistatin to target abnormal cells in humans.” 

My attention flicked to the vase of spider lilies. “They naturally produce the compound, so I’m extracting it from them.” 

Pete’s head bobbed at a steady rate, intently listening to every drop of information I had to offer him. He was always attentive. 

I found myself missing him. 

Why? 

“Like, cancer cells?” Pete asked. 

“Kind of.” It was as honest as I could be. I didn’t seem to know for sure what I was working on. So I reversed the roles, taking a page from his book and changing the subject, purposely leading him away from the questions I couldn’t yet answer. “You should walk me home.” 

I reached for my tote bag with one hand and my notebook with the other, shoving it inside before lugging the bag over my shoulder. 

“I thought you didn’t have time for a break?” He chuckled at me. 

I shrugged. “I don’t. But I have a feeling you’re not gonna leave anytime soon, so I won’t be getting much work done tonight anyway.” 

A palm moved to press flat against his chest, and I was willing to bet that behind the mask his jaw had fallen slack, a mock look of hurt flashing across his face. 

“Wow, I honestly thought you liked my company.” I could hear him stifling his own laughter, desperately trying to maintain his new dejected persona. A thumb jutted over his shoulder, “If you want me to leave then I’ll go, alright! Just say the word and I’ll be out of your hair–” 

I threw my head back and groaned. “Oh shut up and just swing me home, Spider-Boy.” 

He didn’t shut up. Not once we had made it outside onto the streets, not when I wrapped my arms around his neck, and not while we were soaring above skyscrapers. 

I realized then that this was the happiest I’d ever seen him, the most carefree he’d ever been, the closest he’d ever come to acting like the other two. He hadn’t closed himself off yet, hadn’t shoved everyone out of his life. But that would all change soon enough. He would change. 

And in spite of the fact that it defied all reason and logic, I was cursed with the knowledge of the shell he would become. I knew I’d never see it with my own eyes—not really—but the thought of it was enough to make me wish I could change everything. 

It made me wish I could save us both. 

But I didn’t let myself indulge in that thought, too afraid that if I did then I’d lose my nerve, that I wouldn’t be willing. I knew it had to be lovely, though. The idea of a world where I’d never leave his side. 

I tightened my grip around his neck, refusing to loosen it even as he placed my own two feet back onto the ground. I hadn’t left his side yet, had I? 

I was still here. I was still alive. 

“Are you okay?” 

Sometimes it was hard to hear over the frenzy in my mind, over the throbbing in my head, but I tried. I focused on the weight of his hand against my lower back, steadying me as I swayed, still trying to get used to being back on the ground. 

“Yeah.” I took a breath, blinking a few times. It wasn’t always easy to reorient myself, to remember where I actually was. But I was outside. My house was behind us. I’m still here. And so I smiled. “I’m okay.” 

Pete let out a small laugh. I was glad he hadn’t realized just how bad things were getting. I hoped he’d never find out. 

My fingertips toyed with the edge of his mask, my arms still wrapped around him. “Do you ever get tired of wearing this mask?” 

The question had been ill-timed, but I didn’t care much. Apparently Pete didn’t mind much either, barely stuttering this time as he gave a coy answer. “Sometimes.” 

Carefully, I slipped one finger beneath the fabric, my nail lightly tracing against the now bare skin at the nape of his neck. He didn’t make a move to stop me, and so I let myself grab the base of the mask, intending to lift it at least a bit. 

This time he reacted, softly grabbing my wrist but not pulling it away. “I won’t take it all the way off.” I promised, though we both knew how much I wanted to. 

He didn’t utter a single word, his hand still ghosting over mine as I went to tug at the mask again, exposing the lower half of his face to the frigid New York air. A faint blush crept up his neck, but I knew it had nothing to do with the cold weather now nipping at his skin. 

Pete had always been like this, same as that day at his house with the key lime pie, turning shy whenever he knew I was paying attention to him. I wished I was bolder, that I had the guts to tell him he was always the center of my attention—of my world, even. 

But I wasn’t quite bold enough for that, knowing that if I tried to speak it would all come out wrong anyways. But I was bold enough to trail my thumb against his jaw, enough to let my stare linger on his lips for longer than it should. 

The pain in my body is thrumming harder now than before, as if it’s trying to remind me of what comes next, encouraging me to act while I still have time. 

And so I did.

With absolutely no regard for what might come next I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. I moved too fast, our noses awkwardly bumping together, but I didn't care. He wasn't kissing me back, not yet, but a soft moan escaped his mouth and entered mine, a subtle indication that he'd wanted this just as much.

I don't have time for much,

Tears started to run down my cheeks as the thought crossed my mind, the bunched up material of his mask catching them as they fell.

but I have just enough left for this.

a/n - yeah so this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. big thanks to the people that suggested we delve a little into the readers backstory with pete! poor y/n's having to uncover more and more about her past life and boy o boy it's fucked. plus a glimpse of some pre-trauma pete lmao.

not thrilled with this honestly, i mostly just didn't want this in my drafts anymore, so apologies lol.

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academic rivals is my whole personality 😭

Can you please write something for Mattheo Riddle with academic rivals and if we get caught I’m blaming you

Tyty <3

✧ mattheo riddle x fem!reader x academic rivals x "if we get caught I’m blaming you"✧

( this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

❁ i love all variations of enemies to lovers hihi, anyway this might have some mistakes which i’ll probably fix in the future

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You stormed out of the class the moment it ended. You couldn’t stand his remarks and comments on every topic, often resulting in an argument where the teacher had to step in to end it. You huffed and went outside to get some fresh air, Pansy followed your steps and you both sat down on the cold pavement. She took a cigarette out of the box and placed it in between her soft lips. To her surprise, you looked at her and extended your hand flat so that she could share one with you. She saw you smoke like at best - three times, throughout all the years she’s known you. You hated that smell, because whenever you smelt it he was somewhere close.

‘You want-‘

‘Yes.’ You cut her off and she silently placed a cigarette in your hand. ‘Don’t question it.’ You muttered as put the thing between your lips as well.

‘I wont.’ She mumbled as she pulled out a lighter.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke, both the taste and the feeling of smoking made you cough a bit. Pansy kept her mouth shut, but her eyes never left your figure.

‘What?’ You turned to her, still clearly upset.

‘Nothing.’ She sighed and took a puff. “I just think you should pay less attention to him, he sees that this rivalry makes your blood boil and he uses that to get a rise out of you.’

You didn’t reply for a moment, thick smoke slowly escaping your lips.

‘But I can’t let him win.’

‘You have been fighting for the best grades since i can remember, why are you so obsessed about it anyway?’

‘I-.. I don’t know. I just dont want to give him the satisfaction of being better than me.’

She nodded slowly, ‘You comin’ to the party on tomorrow?’

You sighed, ‘Probably not. We have classes on Monday.’

‘And? You have the whole Sunday to study’ She replied. ‘Mattheo will be there, you both need to relax for one fucking night, right?’ She tilted her head and smirked.

‘I still won’t go.’ You replied and took another puff.

‘Ohh come on!’ Pansy whined and she grabbed your arm to shake it roughly. ‘Pleaseee… I dont remember the last time we went to a party together..’

You looked at her and sighed deeply while closing your eyes, ‘I’ll think about it.’

She chuckled, ‘Merlin, you are so easy to persuade.’

‘You want me to say no?’ You remarked and she raised her hands in defense, her lips in a thin line so that she wouldn’t say anything more.

During supper on Saturday the Slytherin party was everything anyone could talk about. The more things you heard about it the less you wanted to go, but the previous day you agreed to Pansy’s request, now regretting it fully. You moved your fork around your plate, sometimes taking a bite of the food but mostly playing with it. As soon as you could exit the Great Hall you hurried to your dorm. After what felt like four hours of looking through your closet, you finally found the most decent outfit for the party. It started at 9 p.m. but you arrived an hour and a half later. After all you said you’d come, not when. You spotted Pansy in the crowd easily, she was currently engaging in a possibly flirtatious conversation with Theo Nott. You liked him, unfortunately, because it meant wherever he was Mattheo fucking Riddle would be close by. This time wasn’t any different. You slowly squeezed your way through the crowd of drunk students and tapped Pansy on the shoulder after reaching her side.

‘Why are you so late?’

‘What do you mean? I thought the party started at 11?’ you replied sarcastically.

‘Yeah, sure you did.’ She jokingly rolled her eyes at you.

‘Hi Theo.’ You gave him a smile.

He gave you a nod and went back to slowly sipping his whiskey. A moment later you felt someone squeezing between you and Pansy to rest their arms on both your and her shoulders.

‘Hello ladies, can I get you anything?’ A chirpy voice asked.

You chuckled, ‘Hi Enzo, nice to see you too.’ You wanted to add you didn’t want anything but Pansy was quicker.

‘Yeah, we both want the strongest thing you have.’

‘Wha-‘ You tried to interfere.

‘Our friend here needs to take her busy mind off of things.’

And with that Enzo nodded in understanding and disappeared into the crowd with a smirk.

‘Pans, what the fuck?’ You raised your voice.

‘Relax, you need a night off.’

You scoffed.

‘If he is having fun then you should too.’ She replied and nodded towards something.

You turned around to see Mattheo on a couch, sloppily making out with some Ravenclaw girl.

‘I’m gonna puke.’ You turned to Pansy. ‘That is not my idea of fun.’

‘I’m not saying you have to hook up with anyone! All I want us to do today is to get completely plastered tonight!’ She pleaded. ‘Please?’

You wanted to reply but before you could Enzo had brought the drinks. Part of you knew this was gonna have consequences, but the other part of you was like fuck it. You sighed and with a smirk took the beverage from his hand, you listened to the second option.

The night was full of dancing and drinking, mostly the second one which led to you sitting in a circle at 1:45 am, playing truth or dare. You were laughing at Fred Weasley’s poor try to do a split when he suddenly gave up and drank his shot as punishment. Then the bottle landed on you.

“So, truth or dare?” He asked you with a cocky smirk.

“Dare.”

To be honest, you would have chosen truth if not the fact that you were already a bit drunk.

“I dare you to go in a closet for 7 minutes with Riddle.” He and George started sneering.

You locked eyes with Mattheo and without thinking replied.

“I’d rather take a shot than spend a second with him alone.”

He scoffed at you, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You picked up your glass and the liquid soon started burning your throat.

On Sunday morning you woke up in your bed, how you got there though - you had no idea. You slowly sat up and felt like your head was going to explode in any moment. Then you remembered why you don’t get drunk, but it was too late to change that. You spent the rest of the day in your bed, away from any noise that would make this pain worse. You tried opening some books to study, but with this hazy mind and eyes not focusing on any sentence you quickly gave up and threw them to the side. After all, not studying for once wouldn’t bite you in the ass, right?

Monday morning was much better, you did your routine and the pain was gone. You quickly hurried to class and sat down next to Pansy just before the clock struck 9:00.

Professor Binns entered the classroom and everyone expected another boring lesson, where he hopefully falls asleep. Instead, he cleared his throat and told everyone to only leave their quills and a piece of paper on their desks. The students started looking at eachother in confusion, Binns had never done any sort of test without announcing it before.

“Today, I want to see how much you lot remember from the last few classes, there will be three questions, answer them briefly. You’ll have 10 minutes.”

Your eyes widened so much you thought they would pop out from the eye sockets. You were screwed, not only you hated this subject because you couldn’t remember much from what Binns was saying but you also haven’t studied because of this stupid party.

Everyone started groaning and trying to bargain with the professor but he was persistent. You scribbled the questions quickly as he was saying each one of them and you realised you don’t know anything.

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself.

You saw Mattheo giggling across the room and writing on the paper. If only you could read his mind and copy the answers, but you couldn’t. You started writing anything that came to your mind, none of it was probably right, but maybe you’d get some points for trying. Unlike Berkshire and Nott who didn’t even write the questions down.

When the time was up all the papers flew directly into the professor’s hand. The rest of the class went by much quicker and as soon as it ended you stormed out of the class.

At the end of the day you found yourself in your dorm, studying whatever you learned that day in class. You picked up your History Of Magic book and started flipping through it in order to write down the correct answers to the questions which you luckily remembered. They turned out to be way complicated than you thought, you were officially screwed. Before reading them you at least had hope Binns would give you some points, now the hope has vanished.

Then, out of nowhere, a crazy idea popped into your mind. You turned to the side to see your roomate sleeping soundly and slowly got up from your bed and went over to the door. Holding your hand over the knob, unsure of your choice, you sighed deeply.

“Fuck it.” You whispered to yourself and exited the dorm.

This was not a good idea and you knew it. But it was better than being worse than Riddle. At least that’s what you were telling yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts Castle. At night it was even harder to find the correct classroom where the professor would’ve kept the tests.

It felt like you have missed the correct room at least 10 times already, this was too hard. You were about to give up when you heard shuffling in the classroom a few metres away from where you stood. The door was slightly agape and there was a soft blue light coming out, someone was surely using lumos. You took a few small steps and remained as quiet as possible, peeking your head through the door you saw someone going through the desk drawers as quietly as they could. The person stood up and when your eyes landed on those messy curls, you instantly recognised him.

“Riddle?” You whispered as you entered the room. “The hell are you doing here?”

He looked up in horror, but immediately relaxed his stance when he saw it was you.

“I could ask you the same question.” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Looks like we had the same idea. Didn’t think you were one to break the rules, though.”

“What do you mean?” You scoffed.

“You came here to replace your test with the correct answers, didn’t you?” He smirked at you and pointed to the piece of paper you were holding.

“Why are you here?” You avoided his question.

“For the exact same reason, love.” He waved his paper sheet.

“Don’t call me that.” You replied and came over to him. “I saw you giggling in class, surely you must’ve known the answers.”

He shrugged his arms, “I was giggling because I knew I was screwed.”

You rolled your eyes at him and took a look around the class.

“Have you found them, then?”

“I don’t think they are here.” He nodded towards the desk.

You went over to the cabinet on your right and opened the shelfs, finding your tests in the lowest one.

“You are so daft, Riddle.” You gave him a smirk and waved the papers in front of his face.

He scoffed at you and took them from your hand. He started looking for your names and you both successfully replaced your tests.

“I wanted to be better than you and now we are gonna be even.” You sighed.

“I’m always better than you, though.” He replied.

“No you are not.” You hissed.

“Mhm.”

“I’m going back to my dorm. I can’t stand another second with you.” You huffed and started walking away.

Mattheo didn’t respond, instead he smirked to himself, put the tests back in the drawer and started silently following after you.

“Fuck off Riddle.” You whisper-yelled at him when he caught up to you.

“Why do you want to be better than me so much?”

“Just because.”

You didn’t even know why, you just knew you couldn’t be worse than him. This unspoken rivalry had been going on for far too long and you never understood why it mattered to you so much. You stopped walking and looked up at him, even though it was dark you could see his soft features. You opened your mouth to say something when a soft meow echoed through the corridor. Mattheo instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you into the nearest room, which happened to be a small closet full of different jars containing various herbs. You felt his warm breath on your face.

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” You whispered.

“Can you shut up for one second?” He whispered back.

“I’m just-“ He stopped you by putting his hand over your mouth.

You heard someone walking next to the door behind which you were hiding. You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, but feeling Mattheo’s warm hand on your face made you even more nervous. You slowly reached up and took his hand away. Your eyes were flickering between the door and each other’s faces. The light from a lamp Filch was carrying shined through the bottom of the door. It lit up the room to the point that you saw your enemy almost clearly. He looked… pretty. Saying you didn’t find him attractive would be a complete lie. You realised how close you were to each other, his body heat making you get goosebumps. This is the closest you had ever been and for the first time you didn’t find him annoying. His eyes were glued to the bottom of the door, waiting for Filch to go past the room. Slowly the light started fading and so did his features you were studying, like the scar on his nose you never noticed. You wondered where it was from.

“I think he’s gone.” He whispered which got you out of the trance.

“Hm?”

“Filch.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” You whispered and turned your attention to the door.

Mattheo kept his eyes on you, little did you know he also felt nervous with being this close to you. He noticed you were still holding his hand, you didn’t let him go after taking it off of your mouth. He changed the position of your hands, interlocking your fingers. It took you by surprise, but you didn’t show any reaction, visibly. He led you through the corridors as you slowly made your ways to your dorms. You were about to let go of his hand and head off to your room when he tightened the grip.

“Guess you fulfilled the dare after all.” He beamed.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“The night of the party you said you’d not spend a second with me and now you’ve spent much more than that.” He smirked.

“Wow, you are so full of yourself.” You let out a breathy laugh and a soft smile grew on your face. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” He reciprocated the smile.

You both looked down at your intertwined hands and slowly let go, your hand going back to hanging at your side.

“I still hate you, though.” You said with a smirk and started slowly walking away.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He replied with the same sentence he did the night of the party and smirked at you as well.

“Night, Riddle.”

“Night, love.” He replied and you rolled your eyes at him, but smirked to yourself after you were out of his sight.

The next morning History of Magic was your last class, which meant Binns had probably already graded your tests. He shook his head and said he is disappointed, as only two students got a good grade. You and Mattheo looked at each other and he sent you a wink.

“Stupid bastard.” You whispered to yourself, hiding your smirk and trying to ignore the feeling in your stomach.

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© girasollake 2023

i feel like this is bad .. sorry for the wait guys i am TRYING ..

i pay attention to things that most people ignore (theodore nott)

my dreams:

Can we get a smart Peter Pan on God and like the Peter Pan from2003 like can we get it in smut on God like I would love to see that where the reader loses her virginity Peter Pan

bro WHAT 😭