#fae!fic

… When Imbolc finally arrived, Peter took the first train to the woods. Maybe he’s a little eager, but he simply can’t wait to see Oberon again. He scrolls through his phone, smiling at some silly photos of May he took last week and setting one as his lock screen. She’s alive again because of the Fae- because of Oberon. And all the man wants is company. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, Peter thinks. If it’s company he wants, it’s company he’ll get. With the snow gone, Peter more confidently finds his way through the woods. He’s still not exactly sure where to go, but at least the direction he’s taking feels like it makes more sense. “Oberon?” Peter uses his hands to help his voice carry further. “You here?” “Why, aren’t you cute.” Peter’s back straightens and he turns, startled, at the voice behind him. A man with slightly longer, pushed back, dirty blond hair grins down at him from a large branch. His short, trimmed beard enunciates his jawline and he has large eyes, almost comically so. They glow dim, just like Oberon’s. Fae. Bad news. Peter swallows and presses his lips on top of each other, breathing in through his nose. “Says a strange man sitting in a tree by himself in the middle of the woods,” he replies calm and collected. The Fae chuckles darkly, causing a shiver to run down Peter’s spine. The man hops off the branch and lands effortlessly. “Hmm,” the Fae hums. “If it is strange I am here in the woods by myself, then why is it not odd you are here?” “I’m looking for someone,” Peter answers earnestly. “A friend who goes by Oberon.” Suddenly, Peter’s blood seems to freeze, locking him in place as the Fae stalks closer until he is right in front of Peter. He looks down, locking Peter’s eyes with his. The Fae grins and leans in, nearly letting their noses touch. “You may call me Oberon, then.” The man’s breath is cold on Peter’s face and the young man blinks in an attempt to fight a sudden drowsiness that washes over him. “I’ll be your friend.” The Fae’s gaze holds him in place and momentarily, Peter wonders if the beauty of the being’s bright blue eyes are the cause of this sleepiness. He is using magic on Peter and only now does it become painfully obvious what Oberon could have done to him from the start, but never did. “I don’t think I should-” As quickly as the Fae got hold of him, he lets Peter go again. He looks to his side cautiously and when Peter blinks, the Fae is gone. “Puck,” a familiar voice speaks. Immediately, a smile grows on Peter’s face. He pivots and the Fae seems surprised by how Peter beams. “Oberon, hey!” Peter holds himself back. Part of him wants to fall into the Fae’s embrace straight away, but as much as his feelings for the man have rooted and grown, he’s not sure Oberon has gone through the same. “Who were you talking to?” Oberon inquires curiously. Peter cocks his head and frowns. With an uncertain pout, he looks around him. “Nobody- eh, myself, I guess? I tend to do that.” … “What’s that?” Oberon creeps over Peter’s shoulder, staring at the device in Peter’s hand. The young man is seated on the soft pillows of Oberon’s cabin. Peter grins. “With my aunt back at work, she started making money again.” He holds up his phone to proudly show it to Oberon. “She gave me this phone for Christmas!” The Fae frowns slightly and shuffles to sit down next to Peter, who sucks in a breath at how close the man is to him. “Phone…” Oberon repeats, lost in thought. “It looks fragile.” “Well,” Peter chuckles. “I wouldn’t throw or toss it. I don’t want it to break- these things are expensive.” “Huh.” Oberon cocks an eyebrow. There’s a curious glimmer in his eyes as he stares at Peter’s fingers caressing the screen. “May I… May I see it?” “You are seeing it, aren’t you?” Peter smirks. Oberon scoffs and gestures at the phone. “From up close, please?” “Since you asked so nicely,” Peter says theatrically, wanting to hand Oberon the device. However, he quickly pulls back. “There’s metal in this.” “I can handle it, remember?” Oberon says with an encouraging nod. “I am Iron Man.” “Right- right,” Peter chuckles at the silly nickname and passes the phone to the Fae. The man turns and twists it in his hands, studying it intently. His eyes squeeze to slits in an attempt to look into the charger hole. “Press the button on the screen,” Peter instructs. Oberon looks up at him confused, but does as told. The screen lights up and a photo of Peter and May together appears. Oberon gasps in awe. “Who is that?” “M-“ Peter stops himself, nearly saying her name. “My aunt.” “The one I helped?” Peter nods. “She seems nice.” “She’s the nicest.” “Not I?” Oberon jokes, causing Peter to scoff a soft laugh. “Don’t make me choose.” Oberon perks up at that, eyes wide and glimmering, mouth open in a wide smile. “So, you think I am nice?” “I- I don’t mind spending time with you.” Peter looks away into the fire, blushing profusely and silently swearing at himself for feeling it crawl up to his ears. Oberon stays quiet, but Peter can practically hear him grinning. The Fae settles flush next to him as they both stare at the flames. “I think you are nice too,” Oberon speaks softly. He slowly raises his hand to give the phone back to Peter. Instead of taking it, Peter curls his fingers around Oberon’s and presses the home screen again. Oberon seems surprised by Peter’s actions, but watches intrigued as Peter swipes up, opening the camera without unlocking his phone. Oberon gasps when he is met with his own moving image on screen. “It is a mirror?” Oberon moves the phone closer to his face with Peter’s hands still on top of his. “A camera.” “For… Photos?” The Fae looks at Peter with a cocked head. The young man smiles and nods. “Correct,” he replies with a posh accent. “And videos too. Here-” Peter takes the phone out of Oberon’s hands and angles it so they are both in shot. His thumb hovers over the button on screen. “Cheese!” Right as Peter presses the button, Oberon turns to him with a frown. “Cheese?” Click. “What does that have to do with pictures?” Peter snorts and looks down at his phone to open his album. Oberon’s captured face is pricelessly confused, but Peter understands where it came from. “I- I’m not actually sure,” Peter chuckles. “I think it has to do with the word itself? Like, you kind of smile when you say it?” “I smile when I say cheese because it reminds me of its lovely taste.” Only then Oberon notices the photo on Peter’s screen. “Oh, that one is not particularly flattering,” he deadpans as he leans in to look at himself. “Can we tear it?” “Let’s not rip up my phone.” Peter smiles. “I’ll delete it.” “Just because I cannot lie, does not mean I cannot tell when others do,” Oberon says smugly. Peter hides his phone, but his eyes shimmer mischievously. “We could also just try again?” “Yes, let’s do that,” Peter says, already promising to himself that that photo will be his home screen. Peter unlocks his phone and raises his arm to angle it right again. His breath hitches when he feels Oberon press himself against Peter, to fit in the frame better. The Fae’s breath is warm in his neck and Peter nearly forgets what they were doing. He smiles awkwardly, but it turns into a genuine laugh when Oberon pokes his side slightly and exclaims: “CHEESE!” … “So, which one of these are edible?” Peter asks as he pulls at the leaves of a bush, nodding at the berries resting at the base of the twigs. “For starters, that one leads to an eternal nap, so I would advise against it,” Oberon states dryly. Peter immediately lets go of the plant and stands up straight again. They had decided, since Peter can’t actually eat food that Oberon offers him, to go foraging. That way, Peter can collect his own food. It’s been around five hours since Peter had arrived at the cottage and their conversations were as interesting and comfortable as they could be. Peter really loves his time with Oberon. “How about that one?” Peter sheepishly points at another bush with darker berries. Oberon smirks and saunters towards it, taking exactly one berry off of it and tossing it into his mouth. He chews and swallows. “Good pick.” He picks another few berries and eats them. Peter can only stare at Oberon’s bobbing Adam’s apple. After a few bites, Oberon cocks an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Puck? The berries are safe.” Peter blinks and steps towards the bush, but Oberon doesn’t move. Instead, he moves to angle a branch so that the berries are easier to pick for Peter. The young man fills his hand with berries and gratefully pulls his arm back from the bush. Two got squashed in his greedy attempt to fit as many as possible in his hands, but they still look edible. Peter takes his free hand and tastes a single piece. It’s a little sour, but incredibly tasty. He immediately perks up and tosses another three in his mouth, not noticing Oberon’s intense stare on him. Peter’s next bite is a little too eager. To prevent the berry from falling out, he clenches his teeth. However, the berry wasn’t in Peter’s mouth all the way, so it squashes and starts dripping down his chin. “Shit-” Peter exclaims as he makes a cup of his hands to catch the juice dripping down. “Here,” Oberon says quickly. “Allow me-” The Fae raises his hand and steps closer until their breaths mingle. Peter can’t move as Oberon’s thumb finds his jaw and wipes away the juice. He looks up at the man with big eyes, jaw slacked as his mind races. Oberon, seemingly reluctantly, takes his hand back but Peter stops him by dropping the berries he still had to the ground and grabbing hold of the Fae’s wrist. His mouth is dry, regardless of the juicy fruit he just ate. He feels like he’s not breathing, but judging by the fact that he can feel his heart thump in his head and that he sees his chest rising and falling rapidly from his peripheral vision, he’s still taking in oxygen. “Puck?” Oberon whispers. “Are you-” “I think there’s still some left on my lips,” Peter replies breathlessly. It is a bold move, but one he was definitely willing to make after so many more hours of talking and getting to know the man better. “My hands are already sticky.” Oberon licks his lips, eyes strained on Peter’s plump ones. Peter absentmindedly mimics Oberon’s actions. “Only one way to get rid of it then…” Oberon scoffs softly at Peter’s directness. The corner of his mouth curls up as he leans in, closing his eyes. Peter’s and Oberon’s noses brush together and Peter can’t help but close his eyes as well, relishing in the feeling of Oberon’s heat flush against him and his breath mingling with the Fae’s. He gasps softly when he feels a tongue flick against his lips, but the Fae remains distanced in a way that drives Peter mad with want. “I can only imagine how sweet you would taste,” Oberon mutters. “Don’t imagine anymore…” Peter’s order soon turns into a plea. “Please.” “Since when are you so loose? So relaxed? Why would you let me steal a kiss from y-” Peter lets out a strained noise at Oberon’s indecision on what to do, now knowing damn well the Fae wants exactly the same Peter wants. He boldly leans in, immediately opening his mouth so Oberon can push his surprised moan into him. Where Peter took initiative, Oberon now takes the lead. Peter lets himself be guided into the kiss, letting go of Oberon’s hand, so it can find its way into Peter’s hair. After a little bit, Peter pulls back slightly and scoffs a quiet laugh, still not opening his eyes. “Maybe your spells are finally working.” … The door to Oberon’s cabin gets blown wide open as he and Peter are glued to each other, breathing rapidly and tugging at their clothes. The Fae lifts Peter effortlessly, kicks the door shut and pushes the young man up against it. His hips grind into Peter’s crotch and the human whimpers at the friction against his clothed cock. “O-Oberon-” he begs. “More- more, please-” The Fae immediately moves his lips to Peter’s neck to suckle on it. He grins against Peter’s skin when a certain spot has Peter buck his hips involuntarily. Oberon sucks at it a little harsher, drawing the most delicious sounds from Peter. “More-” “I will give you all- everything- all of it.” Oberon’s mutters are nearly incoherent as he ravishes down Peter’s neck, pulling at the hoodie until he can reach Peter’s collar bone. He grazes his teeth past it and pushes his hips up against Peter’s crotch again. “Yes, yes, please-” Oberon carries Peter over to the pillow pile on the floor and sits down with Peter still on top of him. The young man’s eyes flutter open to stare straight into Oberon’s. They glow brighter than they did before. Peter immediately pushes in to kiss him again, rolling his hips into Oberon’s and moaning with every sting of stimulation on his aching clothed cock. The Fae pushes his hips up invitingly as he pulls his head back to take off his shirt. Peter stares, nearly drools, at the beautifully toned chest. “Your turn,” Oberon chuckles darkly. Peter follows the Fae’s lead and undresses his upper body. When Peter’s head is hidden in his dress shirt as he awkwardly pulls it over his head, there’s a sudden intense, wet suckle on his left nipple. “A-ah!” Peter exclaims, twitching under Oberon’s attention. The Fae’s large hands keep Peter in place. He wants to get rid of his shirt asap, but now that he can’t see, the sensations of Oberon’s tongue circling his sensitive bud are all the more overwhelming. When he’s free, Peter throws the shirt away from him and moves his hands into Oberon’s hair to anchor himself. The roll of his hips into Oberon’s crotch is steady now, but both men are ready for more. Peter feels like he’s floating as the Fae turns them both around until he’s pinning Peter on the floor. He rubs their clothed crotches together and all Peter can do is take whatever is given him. “Can I-” Oberon gasps as he sucks possessive marks on Peter’s chest. “M-May I-” “Fuck me-” Peter orders. “Please, I need you-” “Oh, Dandelion,” Oberon moans, tugging at Peter’s pants. “Sweet Chamomile, Bluebell, Primrose…” Each flower nickname is paired with a kiss or a mark or the scraping of teeth over Peter’s skin. His head spins and his eyes roll back as he tries to buck up into Oberon. He can’t close his mouth anymore. All he can do is gasp and moan and attempt to catch Oberon’s lips with his before the Fae moves back to ravish Peter’s neck again. “Clover, Columbine, Sunflower-” When all clothes have been discarded and both men are grinding into each other naked, Oberon’s voice rumbles through the cottage. “Puck-” Peter smiles at how much that particular name takes him out of it. “Parker.” Oberon freezes at Peter’s last name. He pulls back, wide-eyed until he can look at Peter properly. Both of them pant, hips still gently rolling into each other as a soft reminder they’re still going. “What?” The Fae whispers. “Puck isn’t a sexy name, is it,” Peter chuckles, bringing his hands up to trace patterns on his chest with his index finger. He gasps quietly when he brushes past his nipples. “You already know my last name…” Peter half-closes his eyes and licks his lips in an attempt to seduce Oberon to continue. “Use it.” “Parker…” The word gently falls from Oberon’s lips and Peter can feel that same tug at his heart as he did last time. It feels amazing. “Parker,” Oberon repeats, seemingly feeling pleasure from simply saying it as well. “Parker-Parker-Parker-“ Sparks seem to fly from Oberon’s eyes and he growls, moving in to eat Peter up again. Peter is unsure what is happening, but it feels absolutely heavenly. Is it Fae magic? Oberon isn’t in pain, like he said he would be if he broke his promise, so it’s not Oberon using magic directly on him. Maybe Peter feels the unwritten rules of the Fae; rules no one can go around. Not even promises. Oberon might not have Peter’s full name, but through this, part of Peter wonders if he is already bound to him. In all honesty, he couldn’t even mind it if he tried. It feels too good. The sensation is everything; an overwhelming pleasure that makes Peter yearn for more. Earlier, Peter wondered if it would be bad to be bound. But if it feels like this, he is certain that it’s not bad at all. Not with someone as sweet and caring and loving and giving as Oberon. Peter gets brought back to reality by Oberon snapping his finger. The young man blinks dreamily and smiles up at the Fae. “Are you with me?” Oberon checks and Peter nods. “Feels so good-” The Fae grins but it soon fades when Peter cheekily cocks an eyebrow. “However, I do believe I told you to fuck me,” Peter says cheekily. Oberon scoffs a laugh and leans back until he’s up straight again. “Proof of autonomy, right there,” he chuckles as he brings one hand down to circle Peter’s hole. Peter immediately pushes down and lets out a soft whine. “Make me yours-” he gasps. Oberon licks one long stripe from Peter’s right nipple over his collar bone, up to his neck and jaw. “You already are, my flower.” Oberon’s voice is dark and Peter can’t help a high pitched sigh escape his throat. “Are you alright with Oberon?” Peter double checks. “From your lips, always,” the Fae smirks, still teasing around Peter’s entrance. “Anything else, my king?” Peter jokes, referencing the fact that the character is king of the Fae. Oberon freezes at that, causing Peter to open his eyes. “Too much?” Peter ponders out loud. Oberon licks his lips and swallows, seemingly regaining his composure. The Fae then pushes in without warning, curling his finger. Peter’s surprised the glide comes so easily. Like he is already lubed up. Magic, he guesses. He doesn’t really want to think more of it and the ecstasy already makes him forget what just happened. When Peter’s body complies and follows without protest, it doesn’t take long for a second finger to be added. And then a third. Peter is fucking himself on Oberon’s fingers while the man searches for the spot that will make Peter scream. Soon enough, he finds it. Though, after brushing past it once and earning the most delectable noise from Peter, he pulls his fingers back. Before Peter can whine about the lack of touch, the fingers are replaced by Oberon’s stiff cock. “Wasps-” Peter chuckles at the characteristic swear coming from the Fae. “You’re so tight, Parker. So tight.” Oberon bottoms out and stops moving, allowing Peter to get adjusted to the Fae’s girth. Peter, however, is so ready to be fucked, he doesn’t really want to wait anymore. He reaches his, up until now jelly and motionless, arms up until his fingers wrap around Oberon’s shoulders. He then starts pulling and smiles when Oberon lets himself be guided. The Fae’s eyes are closed, like he’s trying to concentrate. It makes him a lot more compliant, which Peter uses to his advantage. Peter keeps pulling and turning until Oberon is laying down and Peter is sitting on top of him. The young man’s hands rest on the Fae’s chest. “Your turn,” Peter whispers, repeating what Oberon said earlier, as he leans down to obscenely lick at Oberon’s perched nipples. He wets them up nicely and moves back enough so his index fingers and thumbs get enough space to start rolling the nipples between them. Oberon chokes back a moan. His entire body is tense. It’s only now that Peter notices Oberon’s arms are spread, fists clenched and… Is that magic in his closed palms? “Are you alright?” Peter inquires. Oberon nods, simply and aggressively. “Holding back-” he chokes out. “What are you holding back?” Peter’s question is paired with a first, slow and gentle roll of his hips. Oberon sucks in a breath and Peter stares curiously at the sparks, brightening in the Fae’s hands. “Magic. My- m-” “Is that magic dangerous to me?” Something about that question thrilled Peter. The only thing that actually frightens him right now is the idea Oberon might want to stop. And also the fact that he may or may not have fallen in love with the man below him. “No,” Oberon groans. “J-Just magic-” he pauses to react to Peter slowly lifting himself up his cock, only to lower himself again and slightly wiggle his hips when he bottoms out. Peter’s curiosity grows by the second, just as his need to get both Oberon and himself off. “What kind?” The words roll off Peter’s tongue, low and alluring. “Illusions- I think I- I can make them be illusions.” Peter isn’t sure what Oberon means with that exactly, but the reply surely piqued his interest. He picks up the pace riding the Fae, reveling in how Oberon falls apart below him. The magic in Oberon’s hands intensifies and it is now Peter’s sole mission to have the man let go for him. Peter leans in and kisses Oberon on the lips, so soft and gentle. “Oberon,” Peter whispers as he sits up straight again, slowly but surely turning his rolling into bouncing. “Open your eyes.” The Fae obeys and moans at the sight of Peter’s body on top of him. In a reflex, the man starts fucking up into Peter in tune with Peter’s bouncing. “O-oh, yes!” Peter exclaims. “I- I wanna see it, Oberon. Y-your magic. Let it out-“ Oberon’s eyes roll back as he loses tension in his fingers. Blues and purples shoot from his hands, surrounding the two lovers with an endless galaxy. Peter gasps surprised, staring at the infinity around them. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. When he looks down at Oberon again, whose eyes still glow and flicker, he notices even the ground has turned to stars below them. He grins as he picks up the pace again. “Never thought I’d get to fuck in space,” he chuckles, riding Oberon feverishly. “Or y’know, get fucked by a Fae.” “You,” Oberon sighs with a smile. “You talk too much.” Now that Oberon doesn’t have to hold anything back anymore, he quickly turns them around like they were before. His hands, still sparking with magic, cup Peter’s cheeks and he brings them together in a hungry kiss. He has once again taken the lead and is now thrusting into Peter, chasing his high. One hand swiftly finds its way down between them. Peter moans into Oberon’s mouth when the Fae’s fingers curl around his shaft to pump him at the same pace as Oberon’s hips move against him. They’re wet and sticky with magic lube and precum and the sounds their crashing bodies make are downright porn-worthy. “Parkeeer…” The Fae groans. “O-Oberon,” Peter replies breathlessly. Their pace is relentless now, bodies tensed and nearing release. “Stark,” the Fae says, causing Peter’s eyes to shoot open when he feels another tug at his heart. The Fae looks down at him with a panting half-smile. “If I get to call you Parker, you get to call me Stark.” Last names. Peter’s entire body shakes and trembles as the edge is ever so close. He’s on fire, surrounded by moons and stars and milky ways and Oberon- Stark, right there with him, above him, making him see even more stars. “S-Stark-” he whispers. Around him, the scene intensifies and Oberon’s eyes glow even brighter. “Yes, that’s it, my sweet, my flower, my Parker-” Peter squeezes his eyes shut. “So close-” Peter isn’t sure if Oberon means himself or Peter, but either way, he’s right. “Wanna cum,” he gasps, biting into Oberon’s lower lip slightly. “Go on then, show me your beauty,” Oberon encourages, moving to sit up a little straighter and parting their faces from each other. Peter instinctively tries to move up along with Oberon, so he can keep their lips locked, but Oberon pushes him back down. The Fae’s thrusts are more calculated now, angled exactly where Peter needs him to go. His last free hand shifts to gently roll Peter’s balls while his other still pumps the young man’s shaft feverishly. “Stark!” Peter’s body thrashes and he cums, spilling himself all over Oberon’s hand and his own belly. He clenches down on the Fae’s cock and smiles deliriously when he milks Stark, the feeling of his insides being coated white adding another surge of pride and pleasure to his high. “Oh, flower,” Stark sighs, nearly dropping himself on top of Peter. “You were so good, so sweet.” Peter’s eyes are already closed, Oberon’s cock still sheathed inside of him. “Hmm…” Stark/Oberon shifts until they are both laying on their sides, bodies still flush together. “Will you sleep for me tonight?” Peter nods absentmindedly, still grinning ear to ear and basking in the afterglow. The smile brightens slightly when he feels Oberon’s lips press a soft kiss on his nose. “I will be here in the morning. Take your rest. I’ll hold you.” Peter drifts to sleep to the soft humming of the Fae’s voice. Not bad, he thinks before losing himself to slumber. Not bad at all. … A chilly breeze hits Peter’s face. His lips curl up and he turns, feeling around for Oberon. For Stark. His smile fades when the haze of just waking up fades and he notices just how cold the room actually is. His hand ends up on the cool flooring. Oberon isn’t there. Peter opens his eyes and sucks in some air when he notices there is snow. Inside. He quickly moves to sit upright, pulling the blankets up to keep himself warm, and he looks around. Oberon sits by the opened door, hands folded together in front of his mouth. He’s hunched up and his expression is stern. Tight. Worry settles in Peter’s stomach. “O-Oberon?” He isn’t sure if he should be saying the Fae’s actual name now. Oberon doesn’t look up. “Get dressed.” “Is something wrong?” Peter’s browns curl together. “Get. Dressed.” Peter remains seated, frozen in place and at a loss for words. When Peter still doesn’t move, Oberon finally turns his face to stare Peter down. “Do as you’re told.” “Excuse me?” The young man’s eyes go wide with surprise. Who does this man think he is? “You’re leaving,” Oberon says with a shaky voice. “Now.” He looks away again. “Get dressed.” The world around Peter collapses. Everything they had been through together, everything that had happened… Is over? “I don’t understand-” “Do not make me get over there and force you.” Peter immediately stands and grabs his clothes, feeling his tears threatening to spill. The only word going through is head right now is why. Why would Oberon do this? Why is he suddenly so different? Why does Peter have to leave so suddenly? Why is this happening? Once Peter is dressed, he grabs his phone from where it’s resting against a pillow. The screen doesn’t light up. Great; his new phone is dead too. He stares at his reflection in the dark screen. His cheeks are red and his eyes puffed. He blinks and then the tears fall. “Puck.” Peter gasps and looks up at the Fae who now stands. An odd glow now radiates from the middle of his chest. The man’s expression is pained, like he’s holding back. “You are no longer indebted to me. You are to go home and forget about us. Do not come back to these woods. Ever.” “You,” Peter pushes out through gritted teeth, his sadness slowly making place for anger. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Oberon doesn’t speak. The only response Peter gets to his accusation is the twitch over Oberon’s upper lip. “You manipulated me enough to have sex with me and now you’re dropping me.” The Fae looks away and takes hold of the door, gesturing to outside. “Leave,” Oberon orders. “Please.” Peter is confused at how the Fae’s voice cracks, as if he actually cares about Peter. “Unbelievable,” the young man breathes. “I can’t believe I fell for this. For you!” “LEAVE!” The Fae’s aggression reverbs through the cottage, making it even colder than it already was. Peter’s jaw trembles as his tears now freely glide down his cheeks. Peter runs. Past the pots and pans at the cooking area, past the herbs hanging from the ceiling, past Oberon, through the door. The second he sets foot outside, he hears the door being thrown shut, but when he turns around he finds the cabin has disappeared entirely. It’s gone. And now Peter is alone in the woods. He shakes violently, dropping to his knees and sobbing. Part of him hopes that wherever Oberon is, that he can hear him wail. … When Peter arrives home, he plugs in his phone and heads to the shower. He feverishly washes himself, scrubbing his body and hating how he can still feel the Fae’s touch lingering on his skin. He wants it gone. Wants the Fae gone. He sobs under the stream, knowing damn well that he will never be able to get rid of the sensation of disgust. After an hour of letting his tears disappear in the drain, he turns off the tap, broken and drained- empty and dulled. He drops himself on his bed and simply lays there. He won’t be able to sleep anyways. … Peter is startled back to reality by his buzzing phone. The alarm he had set for the morning after Oberon went off, now that the battery was fully charged again. He swallows and grabs his phone, snoozing his alarm. He wants to put the phone away, but notices something is off. He unlocks it and the notification that caught his guard now fully pops up. Recording ended due to empty battery. Confused, yet curious, Peter opens his album to check which recording the notification meant. He blinks a few times when he spots the right one. Two hours and forty-two minutes. When did that happen? He selects it and starts the recording, not entirely unsurprised to be met by Oberon’s face, extremely close to the camera. The sight stings him. “Oh, this is a video right?” Oberon’s voice asks from the phone’s speakers. “Right. Well, hello, future Puck, I am going to show you something.” The Fae turns the camera to show a peacefully sleeping Peter. The camera moves closer to Peter and he can hear a bit of shuffling. He guesses Oberon went to lay down next to Peter. “Do you see your face?” Oberon’s voice is toned down and soft, now that he’s so close to Peter’s sleeping form. Peter watches what Oberon means, already feeling the tears sting in his eyes again. “You wear no mask now…” A hand appears from the corner of the screen to move a few of Peter’s curls out of the way. His fingers caress Peter’s cheek, causing an unwelcome shiver to run down Peter’s real spine. “You are at peace like this. So wonderful, so beautiful…” The Fae sighs content. “I could watch you like this for hours, you know?” “I know.” Peter is startled to hear himself talk in the video. In his sleep. Oberon chuckles. “Oh, do you?” “Mhm.” “Tell me, Puck, what is your favorite season?” “Spring.” “Well, aren’t you lucky that’s right around the corner.” Peter wants to throw his phone to the other side of the room. Oberon is having a conversation with him that he doesn’t remember having. Because he was asleep. It makes him feel uneasy and wonder what else the Fae asked him. “Think you can do some math right now? That ought to be fun to make you try.” The Peter in the video doesn’t reply, so Oberon simply continues. “Puck, what is two plus two?” “Four,” Peter replies promptly. “Easy.” “Alright how about twenty-one times forty-eight?” It’s quiet for a few seconds, but Peter replies still. “One thousand and eight.” “I honestly would not know how to check if it is correct, but I would surely assume you are correct.” Oberon asks Peter some more insignificant questions before falling silent again, simply looking at Peter. It seems he forgot he was filming Peter as the phone is quickly put away in a standing position. Peter guesses this was the spot he found his phone in, looking out over the entire cottage. Peter scrolls ahead in the video, not wanting to watch Oberon play with Peter’s hair for one and a half hours. Peter plays the video at normal speed again when he spots Oberon standing up. He shuffles around the room and speaks softly. “I will be out back to collect some more berries. Will you be alright, my love?” The name is a punch in the gut for Peter and he pulls at his hair. He doesn’t know why he’s still watching, but part of him wonders if whatever made Oberon change his mind like that so suddenly has been caught on camera. “Be fine,” Peter in the video mumbles bluntly. “Love you, bye.” A wide, surprised smile spreads on Oberon’s face and he walks out, mumbling something to himself. Again, nothing happens for half an hour, when suddenly… “Here you are…” A familiar voice speaks. A stranger saunters into Oberon’s cottage. Peter feels like he’s seen him somewhere before, but he can’t recall where. His eyes glow blue, like Oberon’s and when he reaches Peter, he squats down. “Didn’t expect someone as delectable as you to spend time with our heir.” Heir…? Peter’s skin crawls when the man’s hand traces down his bare body, curiously lifting the blankets and grinning wide at his findings. Peter instinctively clutches his sheets, covering himself more. He feels even more disgusted now. “Oh, aren’t you spent…” His eyes darken and his smirk turns ever so evil. “Used.” “Was so good,” the Peter in the video says. The man perks up surprised. “You speak in your slumber?” “Mm…” “Oh, what a nice turn of events…” The man’s hand cups Peter’s face. “Does the prince know your name?” Prince- “No- yes. A little.” “A little? How does that work?” “Last name.” “Oh, like so. Well then, sweet thing, what is your last name?” “Parker.” Peter feels the tug at his heart again. No, is all he can think. Don’t say more. “And then, if you’ll indulge me… What is your first name?” “Your voice is silenced in eclipse, no more words fall from your lips-” Oberon rushes in and reaches his hand forward at Peter, quieting him immediately. The second the spell has settled on Peter, Oberon’s eyes widen and he freezes before he collapses clutching his chest and letting out an agonized groan. Peter stirs, but the other Fae waves his hand once. “Do not wake ‘til morning comes, Parker, I have plans for you.” The man turns back to Oberon and scoffs a laugh. “I can spell him all I want, I have no promises to break. Unlike you, cousin.” Oberon gasps as he trembles, the area where he clutched his chest now glows blue like his eyes. Like Peter had seen the morning after. Oberon broke his promise and now had to deal with the consequences- the pain. He broke his promise; to protect Peter. “Why are you here,” Oberon seethes. “Why, I was quite intrigued to find this beautiful specimen in the woods yesterday. Searching for Oberon. I suppose that is you?” The man laughs condescendingly. “And you are not even king yet.” He turns back to Peter. “Pathetic… You didn’t even take his name.” “Step away from him.” “I will not. You have not claimed him, so I will.” “Mysterio-“ Oberon threatens, squaring up. His hands turn to ice like they had done when he almost spelled Flash. Snow is brought through the opened door by a wind Oberon conjures up. “Leave Puck alone.” “Oh!” Mysterio exclaims. “You call him Puck? And he calls you Oberon. How disgustingly sweet.” His expression drops. “I’m going to hurl.” “He’s not yours to take, leave us!” The snow in the cottage thickens as Oberon’s skin pales more with anger and cold magic. “Iron Man, do not tell me you love him.” Oberon’s jaw tightens at Mysterio’s condescending tone. “Oh, you love him.” Mysterio confirms to himself. “Well, then I’ll certainly enjoy taking him for myself.” “I will not let you!” Peter doesn’t understand why Oberon doesn’t just force the man out of his home. “You will, cousin.” Mysterio stands upright and circles Peter like a hawk, waiting for the right moment to take his prey. “For if you do not, I will tell all of Winter Court of the human you bedded. The human you want. The human you did not trick. The human who is not yours, for you do not have his name.” “You would not,” Oberon breathes. “All the Fae will come for him then. I won’t be able to protect him.” “That is what you are worried about?” Mysterio scoffs. “Not that your father will revoke your title and pass the throne to me for your dishonorable and disappointing behavior?” “I do not want to be a king like my father. The title means nothing to me.” “Then why not pass it to me?” “And leave you in charge of all of Winter Court? I’d rather eat my own two feet.” “Rude, much,” Mysterio says faux-offended. “Tell you what. I’m giving you one chance to redeem yourself.” “What will you have me do.” “Claim him.” “No,” Oberon immediately counters, taking two steps forward. Desperation seeps off every word. “No, please, do not make me do this.” “You choose, Oberon,” Mysterio taunts. “You either take his name and keep your honor, or you will lose your title to me and all of Winter Court will be scouring these woods to use him the way you would not.” He cocks his head and grins. “And I will be first in line. Your boy will certainly look lovely at my feet, having no choice but to worship me for all eternity.” “You disgust me,” Oberon seethes. Though, his magic loses power as his shoulders start hanging. “And you me, cousin.” Mysterio then steps over Peter’s body as he casually makes his way to the door, past Oberon. He places his hand on Oberon’s shoulder and pats twice. “Make our court proud.” Mysterio then leaves Oberon and Peter alone in the cottage- in the cold. Oberon’s sad eyes find Peter’s figure and after a minute of visibly holding in his tears he manages to shuffle towards Peter. A soft sob escapes his throat as he lays down next to Peter again, fixing his hair where Mysterio had undone it. The new light emitting from Oberon’s chest now lights up both of their faces. The Fae waves his hand over Peter’s face to undo the spell he had put on him. He then sniffs and the Peter watching the video cries along with him. “Oh, Puck, my flower,” Oberon mumbles through his tears. “I do not wish to lose you. I want to keep you.” “Keep me,” sleeping Peter replies softly. Oberon swallows and closes his eyes. “I can’t.” “Keep me,” Peter repeats. “No.” Oberon is sobbing quietly now. His shoulders shake with every intake of breath. “No.” The Fae presses his lips together and swallows. “I love you too much to keep you.” “Love you too, bye.” Oberon can’t help but scoff a quiet laugh through his tears. Peter is still asleep. Whatever he says is steered on by his subconscious. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but Peter can’t get himself to stop the video. He watches as all possible emotions in existence pass over Oberon’s face. “Puck,” Oberon asks suddenly. Peter holds his breath, anticipating the question. “What is your name?” Peter stares breathlessly at the screen, but when the Peter in the video opens his mouth to speak, Oberon swiftly covers it. “No. No, I do not want it.” He averts his gaze. “I should not have asked to begin with, I am sorry.” “It’s okay,” sleeping Peter answers, probably only responding to the I am sorry part, not actually aware of what it was attached to. “It is not.” It’s quiet again for a little bit. Peter notices the video is almost at its end. He wonders if anything else will be said before his phone’s battery died. In the last thirty seconds, Oberon speaks once more. “I have decided to let you go, flower.” Oberon’s words are shaky. “You deserve your freedom more than I deserve anything else.” Peter is sobbing now, so painfully aware of the things he had accused Oberon of when he left the cottage. “You will never see me again after this, so I want- I want you to have this… To have mine.” Peter frowns through his tears. His…? His what? “My name…” Peter’s eyes widen and he sits up straight in his bed. Is Oberon giving him the one thing they would never share? “My name is-” Peter stares at a black screen as the video and audio cut right when Oberon was about to say his name. After five solid minutes of being frozen in place, something in his mind finally clicks. He has to go back. Back to the woods, back to Oberon. Stat. Straight away. Pronto. Immediately. Now. … Peter runs as fast as his legs can carry him. The ground in the woods is treacherous and uneven, but he can’t get himself to slow down. The wind cuts the skin on his face and his quick breath condenses in front of his mouth. “OBERON!” His screams carry far. “OBERON, COME TO ME!” He nearly trips, causing him to stop running altogether. “OBERON, PLEASE!” he cries out. “PLEASE!” Peter wants to protect Oberon the way he had protected May. Mysterio hadn’t given Oberon this third option; to let Peter leave. It was a risk Oberon had taken in an attempt to go around Mysterio’s threat, since in both, Peter’s freedom would be taken. The Fae was presented with two choices: claim the name or don’t and suffer the consequences. Thing is, Oberon did not claim Peter’s name. That means Mysterio will still tell all of Winter Court about Peter. Oberon will lose the throne and be shunned from his people forever. That is why Peter is here. Oberon has to take his name. He simply has to. And now, Peter is more than ready to give it to him. The Fae had sent Peter away to protect him from being taken, but there is nothing he wants more right now then to be taken. By no one other than- “OBERON!” It’s no use. Peter has been walking for hours now, searching the woods for any sign of the Fae. Or any Fae for that matter. He assumes they would’ve already found him by now, but they are nowhere to be seen. He unlocks his phone and swears when he realizes what day it is. The human world and the Fae world are parallel to each other and they only really mingle on the actual Pagan celebrations. It’s no longer Imbolc. The veil is back. Peter couldn’t find any fairy circles or other signs of passage to their realm in his desperate attempt to locate Oberon, which means there is no way he can find the Fae before the next time Oberon and he were supposed to meet. Ostara. March 21st. Defeated, Peter falls to his knees on the forest floor, clutching his phone against his chest and crying without tears. He had none left. Peter inwardly has to tell himself that he is going to have to go home… And that he is about to face the longest one and half months of his life…

Tony feels an empty tug at his heart now, but something feels off about it. Incomplete. “You cannot do this!” “No, Tones. I’m a Winter Fae . This-” his voice betrays his delusions. “This is what we do. You! You are a disgrace to your father. To our legacy!” “I-” Their conversation is interrupted when the phone starts playing again. Beck lets out an exasperated sigh and he snarls at Tony. “Stop doing that!” Tony shakes his head, holding his hand up defensively. Beck inches closer and stares at it intently, clearly wanting to rip it apart. The only thing holding him back from doing exactly that is the iron matter inside of it. Only Tony can touch it. Only Iron Man. Beck’s fingers would burn if he’d touch it. Tony has never been more grateful for his strange tolerance towards the substance. “I don’t know how to stop it. It’s human technology.” Beck swiftly turns his attention back over to Parker. He tugs at Puck’s hair roughly to lift his head. Tony swallows when he hears a pained moan fall from the boy’s lips. Beck narrows his eyes and lowers his lips until they’re right next to Puck’s ear. “Dearest,” he whispers. Parker visibly shivers. “Please tell our Prince how to cease the music, will you?” Puck whimpers quietly, his eyelids fluttering a few times but never opening fully. “W-What’s on the screen?” Tony hates how grave Puck’s voice sounds, but he does raise the device and looks past the cracks. It says one simple word and Tony frowns. “May?” Puck’s lips curl into a faint smile and he mumbles something incoherent. After a particularly aggressive tug on his hair, Parker speaks up louder. “Swipe… Swipe the green button to the right and bring the phone to your ear.” Tony wonders why on earth he’d have to bring it to his ear, but he follows Parker's instructions. Carefully, he presses his finger onto the green image in the screen and drags it towards the right. Immediately, the colors on the screen change. Tony’s eyes widen and he quickly brings it to his ear, glancing at Parker for any cue as to what to do next. He- Tony freezes when he hears a surprised breath coming from the phone. Is… Is someone in there? “PETER. BENJAMIN. PARKER- WHERE ARE YOU?” Everything happens insanely fast after that. Tony shivers, his legs buckling as he drops onto his knees. Parker. Peter Benjamin Parker. Tony looks up at the boy and a smile cracks through his face. He ignores the worried shouting in his ear. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters . He feels a light, energetic turmoil within his chest as his magic springs to life automatically, forging his interminable bond with his loved one. Beck approaches, a confused frown wrinkling his face. “What happened? Tony? What are you-” “He’s mine.” Tony breathes, a surprised, hysterical laughter bubbling up in his throat. Beck’s eyes widen at the statement. Tony is a Fae after all, he can’t lie. “What?!” “His name. I have his name.” Tony whispers and stands up again. “His full name.” He walks over to the chair and licks his lips. His fingers tremble when he touches Puck’s- Peter’s - cheekbones carefully. Beck steps away, his eyes big and frightened with his leverage on Tony slipping through his fingers. “No, you do not. He gave his name to me. Not you!” “Peter Benjamin Parker, ” Tony breathes, the name foreign but so incredibly good on his lips. Peter’s eyes flutter again, until they open fully. They’re big and bright and awe-struck. Love-filled. Beautiful . “S-Stark?” “Anthony Stark,” he replies softly, leaning in to connect their foreheads. Peter’s chest heaves as he takes in a breath of fresh air. Beck is already forgotten, his importance ceasing to exist now that the two of them are eternally connected. The Fae and the human smile at each other, grateful for this turn of events and for each other. “But you may call me Tony.”

(one thing to note is that the smut scene was written when I was comfortable writing smut (which I no longer am) and I did change it to take out as much as I could (cuz it's an important scene) so don't expect smut in future stories I'm still not gonna write it)