D1lf-loverrr - Ruby Winchester

Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III (coming soon)

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ERES ESTÚPIDO! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 16-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

P.S I still can’t reply to your comment but if I missed your tag or you want to be tagged for Part 3 please comment and I’ll add you.

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8K notes View Post

d1lf-loverrr

1 year ago

soft

pairing: post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel wants her, and she wants him. The bumpy story of how they got together!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has hair that can get in her face, smoking (weed), drinking, lots of feelings, piv, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, kinda subby Joel at the end (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 10.3k (idk how that happened im sorry)

a/n: I’m pretty proud of this one. ik its long but please just give her a chance!

It started with you and Joel both high and drunk out on the porch and he looked so beautiful. There was a perpetual smile on his face, laughing and even giggling at almost everything you said, folding himself over and leaning his head on you whenever he thought something was particularly funny and you couldn't control yourself.

The next time he leaned over you waited, watching, letting him calm back down but when he went to pull off of you, you pulled his head to yours. His breathing stopped short and it scared you until he groaned into your mouth. It was so many things, it was broken, grateful, desperate but savoring and you loved it.

He placed his hand behind your head and held you in place as he pushed his lips further into yours. It almost hurt, the way he seemed to attempt to mold your face into one, but it was so perfect. When he pulled away you were out of breath, panting in his face as he did the same. You guys continued to exchange breaths as you scrutinized every aspect of his face.

Anxiety was clawing inside your stomach as you took him in, fearing that he may never let you ever again. His soft lips parted, and you watched his tongue slide into the indent on his bottom lip. You silently hoped he could taste your remnants on them as they froze, waiting for words to spill out. Only to be interrupted by Ellie slamming the front door open.

“Can you guys fucking keep it down?! I have school, remember? You’re the one making me go!” She shouts at you both, directing the last part at Joel who was still staring at you. You were watching Ellie as she yelled but Joel’s silence brought your gaze back to him. You shouldn’t have because you feel like that’s when it happened. You swear you could see him blocking himself off from you, like a door was shutting in his eyes. He apologized to Ellie and said it was getting late.

Now, usually, Joel insists on you sleeping on the couch, too worried to let you go home so inebriated but that night he sent you away. It was like he broke your heart. He shattered it and forced you to place the shards in your shoes as he pushed you away, pain shooting through your whole body with every step.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, you thought things were over with Joel, and you’d lose touch with Ellie because it would be too painful to go over there.

Your paradise was ruined.

You couldn’t believe you had read the situation so wrong. You thought- worse case- he would tell you that you’re too young, that he just can’t be with you, for whatever reason. But the look in his eyes… the way he sent you home. It felt like he didn’t even care about you anymore.

The next day you thought you had lost your mind. You were in a terrible headspace and decided to ditch your responsibilities. You were in bed, switching between sleeping and sobbing into your pillow. You felt horrible, you looked horrible and someone was knocking incessantly at your door. They would not leave, no matter how much time passed, no matter how loud you groaned. So you wrapped your blanket around you and very angrily made your way to the door.

“Who the fu-” Your sentence is cut short in complete and utter shock.

It was Joel.

You let the door swing open and walk back inside. You’re already climbing back into bed as you hear him shut the door behind him. “What do you want, Joel?”

You’re lying down, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. In the corner of your eye, you can see him just standing there, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. Your head almost turns as you hear him take a deep breath, wishing you could see the way his chest puffs up and stretches whatever shirt he’s wearing. But you don't. He’s not someone you should be admiring like this, he’s someone you cannot be admiring like this.

“Oh my god. Don’t just stand there you know I fucking hate that.” Your voice is so irritated, so hurt and cold but he scoffs.

Anger and embarrassment courses through you but you feel the bed dip anyway, it eases the feelings.

You can feel him right beneath your feet, so close you almost want to straighten your legs a bit more, just so you can press against him. But you don’t.

“Okay, then don’t curse… Y'know I hate that.” His voice is painfully normal, like nothing happened, like he didn't break you. You want to laugh- or cry- at the absurdity. The thought that last night meant nothing to him, so little that he’s over here asking you things like ‘don’t curse’.

Who does he think he is? That he can treat me like shit and then ask such trivial things of me? No. Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Joel. You’re a dick, get out.” He takes a deep breath and then is silent for a moment. You hoped and prayed that he had given up but to no avail.

“No, honey. I’m supposed to find out why you’re not out workin’.” You scoff at him and dig yourself deeper into the blankets. “Ar- are ya sick or somethin’?” At this you turn to him, looking him dead in the eyes, asking ‘Are you fucking serious?’ but he can’t hold your gaze.

Oh! So he does remember.

You laugh humorlessly and fall back into bed where you lie in silence, for quite some time. Until his hand comes up to your ankle, resting so gently you know he’s holding it up. He’s probably still thinking over whether he should do it or not, unaware that he’s already touching you.

“Can- Well, I- I- I know that- fuck.” He’s so angry when he says it, frustrated with himself for not having the right words.

He never knows the right thing to say, or how to convey how he feels. He’s so scared of losing you right now, but he doesn’t know how to tell you in a way that will have you asking no questions. He can’t have you asking him anything because he knows you’ll ask him things that he’s nowhere near ready to answer. “Can you just- Can you please?”

You waited for him to say more, expecting it, but that was the end of the sentence. He wanted you to ‘just please’.

The way he says it though, you look over at him and he’s gazing into you, his eyes so piercing that you almost feel uncomfortable. It feels like he’s prying into you, willing you to open up for him to express himself without having to actually say anything to you.

You sit up and glare back at him, softer than before but still hot with rage. “Please, what.” He shakes his head and looks away from you, into his lap instead as his hand fully settles on your ankle. He keeps huffing out breaths, like he’s going to say something but then decides against it. You’re almost irritated with the sound until he takes a breath and follows it with words.

“You- I need for yesterday to have not happened.”

Fuck him.

You hadn’t even gotten over the first rejection, the lack of care he showed and now here he was rejecting you again. “You must- You gotta understand why it can’t happen. Why we-”

You were trying not to tremble as he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to keep himself calm in the face of the extreme stress the whole situation was putting on him. Tears were welling in your eyes as he spoke, despite you squeezing them shut to avoid this exact issue. But it hurt just as much as it did last night, maybe more. “We just can’t. Not- I need for things to go back to normal… f- for now at least…”

You’re breathing froze, eyes snapping open to look at Joel, who was still looking in his lap. His hand left your ankle to meet his other fidgeting one as you both sat in silence. You could see him peeking at you from the corner of his eye as subtly as he could as you thought over his words.

You felt like you were on a game show. Do you double down or just take what you have?

‘I need for yesterday to have not happened’

‘I need for things to go back to normal’

His words hurt.

‘F-for now at least’

But those words… made it worth it.

You didn’t want to push him. You know how hard it must’ve been for him to even express the little bit he did. Along with that, the thought of him noticing you weren’t around and coming to check on you was making its way through your cloud of hate.

“Y-you sent me away…” Your voice isn’t hard anymore. It isn't soft either, it was just weak. You can see Joel grimace at it, turning away from you so you couldn’t see him. “Wh- You- you always let me stay but- you just-” You stop talking, if you kept going you would’ve started sobbing again.

“I couldn’t let you stay, honey. The- I didn’t- I don’t have enough self-control for something like that to happen an’... I’m leaving you in the guest room? No. I would’ve- had to have- I… No, I-” He breathes out in annoyance again and you yearn to comfort him. But you don’t.

He always gets too frustrated with himself, making it even harder for him to clear his head enough to say what he wants. “I wouldn’t have been able to leave you there. I would’ve had to do somethin’ and I- I don't think that’s a good idea.”

You’re not completely satisfied with the answer, you have more questions now than you did before but you managed to collect one piece of information.

Joel wants you.

It wasn’t a flat-out rejection more like a, ‘let's put a pin in that’ and you have enough faith in him to believe he wouldn’t string you along. So you sniffle, put your big boy pants on as you wipe your tears, and tap Joel on the shoulder, turning his gaze to you. You take a deep breath and speak.

“Yesterday’s events are forgotten.” You say it with a light smile but you’re betrayed by one stray tear as it rushes down your face. Joel’s expression crumbles at it, in so much pain, so heartbroken at the thought that he had caused it. Despite his feelings, he nods at you and gets up. “Get ready. You’re in the fields today, darlin’.” He hits the door frame with a grateful smile before walking away to let you get changed.

Leaving you in your hopeful sadness.

------------------------------------

Things were rocky at first. Neither of you were actually able to forget about ‘what happened’ as Joel so lovingly put it. You expected too much from him and he was still too cold toward you. For the first month, you guys were basically in an argument. It was as though the town couple, the gruff old man and the re-tamed angel, had broken up.

Everyone knew that you were hooking up with Jared, he wouldn’t shut up about it. Joel and the townspeople had heard of his sexual conquests over and over since he arrived, before he set his sights on you.

When he first approached you, you had already gotten out of your ‘phase’ and were too captivated by Joel to entertain him for even a second. However, he was quite popular among the other town women, he was popular with women even before the outbreak so he couldn’t believe when you rejected him. Not that he was shocked, he fully did not believe you. In turn, he never stopped pursuing you… much like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.

So when Joel broke you, you slipped back to how you were before him… You went to Jared. You don’t know if you were hoping he could put you back together or if you wanted him to help you cut Joel with the shards of your heart but the latter is what ended up happening.

You wanted to cut it off with Jared the moment Joel found out. When Jared started parading around the town with you next to him as if you were genuinely interested. But you didn’t.

Instead, you kept seeing him for a few more weeks. You watched Joel avoid you like the plague, ducking out of every room you walked into, switching his jobs with people who had the worst ones just so he didn’t have to work with you. You enjoyed making him squirm, showing him that you could just move on if he’s not ready to step up. You were a highly sought-after woman, a piece of art who he wanted to keep in the garage until he found the right spot. No, you refuse. Until you came across him alone at the bar one night.

He was obviously drunk, a beer in hand but his cheek on the table. There was a song playing that he was loosely singing along to. His other hand was in the air, waving his finger around like he was conducting an orchestra. You storm over to his booth.

Watch him suddenly sober up and head home. Watch him suddenly remember some plans he made or something he forgot to do. Watch him just get up and leave me again.

You sit down across from him and wait for him to notice you. You’re just watching him. His eyes are closed and his eyebrows furrow as he tries to hit each high note. He’s failing, not hitting them perfectly but still getting to an impressive pitch. It’s too endearing to see him like this, so open, unburdened.

You didn’t even know he could sing this well. Your anger and bitterness fades for the first time in weeks. Your head tilts and a soft smile invades your face, as if sensing this Joel finally opens his eyes.

They’re so soft, probably because he thought he was alone, his guard is dropped. You’re waiting for them to go back up at the sight of you. But they stay so soft as he gasps gently. “Honey! Wha- When did you get ‘ere” His voice is softer too… not as rough and gruff as it usually is.

He also doesn’t sound angry. After all he’s done to avoid you, you’d expect him to sound angry. You chalk it up to the alcohol.

“I’ve been here. You just never noticed.” When your voice reaches Joel it's gentle, like how you’d speak to a child but not patronizing. He likes it. He swears he can feel your voice washing over him, running through his hair and caressing his cheek. He smiles at it, at you as a blush rises to his cheeks.

“S-so you-” He looks down at the table, his eyes moving back and forth as he thinks. “Did you hear m-” You can’t help the laugh that slips out. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth but you’re still obviously smiling. “Oh.” That’s all he says as you let your laughs out.

“I’m- Not laughing at you, Joel. I- I swear.” Laughs break up your sentence as Joel stares at the table. “Oh- I’m so sorry. God. You really didn’t notice me here! That’s what was so funny not your singing I swear.” You let out a little giggle at the end but Joel is frowning.

“This s’why I don’ sing in front of no one.” He’s picking at the wood and grumbling to himself. You’d find it all incredibly annoying if it wasn’t Joel doing it.

“Joel.” You’re stern but still gentle as you speak. “I told you it wasn’t your singing. The singing was great. I was so fucking impressed. I had no clue you could even sing like that.” You watch a smile creep onto his face as you praise his talent. He’s still looking at the table, wanting to stay angry but he can’t. Your smile widens the longer you watch him until he takes a swig of his beer.

“Why are you so drunk?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them and Joel pauses mid-sip. He’s frozen like that before slamming it onto the table and looking at you. “ ‘M not drunk. ‘M not. But if I was…” He squints his eyes at you. “If I was- It’s probably cos the girl I want seems to want someone else.”

It feels like everything in the bar stops. Your breathing, your heart, the music, time, the world. Everything just stops.

He got this drunk… over me?

He chuckles and finishes his beer as you sit there in shock. “Dunno why you’re doin’ all this. I know you knew. Jus’ thought-” He goes to take another sip and whines when there’s nothing. “Stupid fuckin-” He throws it across the room, astonishingly making it into the trash with a small mumble of ‘swish’.

“Joel.” He turns back to you with a blank expression. “You never told me you liked me.”

“Oh please.” His voice is mean, a bit sharp now. Your face contorts into one of disgust as he speaks. “You ain’t that dumb, honey. It was very heavily implied an’ you know it.” Your expression drops into a frown. His voice broke at the end, followed by a sniff and an aggressive rub from his sleeve over his nose. “B-but you’re still out there with fuckin’ Jared.” His voice shakes through the sentence, adding some anger at the end as you cringe at the sound of his name. You both were aware you didn’t have any honest feelings for Jared.

“Joel. You told me to pretend that… that night.” You look away from him, embarrassed at what should be a sweet memory. “You told me to pretend it never happened and then treated me like shit for no reason afterward. Certainly, you didn’t expect me to sit in that. There’s no way you thought I would tolerate it! So yeah, I went to get whatever affection I could, elsewhere since my best and main source ran fucking dry.” You can feel your anger towards him building back up as you speak, reliving the details of your guys’ downfall. It still hurt.

“Certainly you didn’t- Why do you talk so damn proper?” He’s laughing to himself at his rendition of your voice but you’re nowhere near amused. You stand from your seat and look down at him, stopping his laughter instantly.

“Okay. Let’s talk about this when you’re sober, hmm? When you can be an adult? Stay on topic at least?” His brows furrow and his eyes leave yours. You stand there, waiting for him to respond but get nothing. “Cool, Joel. I’ll see you around then.” You sigh and turn away from him, disappointed.

The night had started so well, that you stupidly believed that you guys might be able to save your relationship. You should’ve known he was too drunk for the conversation but he shouldn’t have brought it up. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to have a serious conversation he shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. Now you’re both hurting all over again. He’s probably gonna grab another drink and you’re probably gonna go see Jared.

“Please!” It’s frantic, desperate, and unsteady as it shoots out of his mouth. You freeze in your spot, halfway to the door and halfway from him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about it. Why fuckin’ would I? It hurts. You fuckin’— You hurt me… prancing around with that piece of shit- All I did was ask you to wait… just wait- for me to be ready to love you.”

You’re still standing in the middle of the room, facing the door. His voice was getting louder, closer as he spoke but you don’t turn. You could hear the emotion bleeding into his words, breaking his voice as he approached you.

“But you- You couldn’t even wait for me! No. No, you had to go get— ah how’d ya put it? Affection elsewhere- fuck off. You coulda just said you needed something from me. I could’ve given you affection.” His voice softened after cursing at you. It only grows softer as he speaks. You can feel him behind you, maybe a few steps away but you don’t turn.

You don’t wanna see him, lose your edge, your nerve. “I- I would’ve given it to you if I knew, darlin’. I was tryna keep my distance, waitin’ for you to get over me and look! You did. I- I just wish you had told me, instead of havin’ t’hear it from fuckin’— fuckin’ Jared.”

His voice dies down for a moment and you turn around. His hair is everywhere, he must’ve been running his hands through it as he spoke. His eyes aren’t teary but they look like he could cry at any moment, he looks tired and his lips are bitten red.

“I would’ve understood. Or- Or maybe I wouldn’t’ve I dunno. I just wish you woulda said somethi-”

You’re kissing him.

Fuck.

You are kissing him. You didn't mean to. You have no clue how your lips got to his but they’re all over them. He’s groaning at you, pulling you in as you pull away.

“Fuck! I’ve got to stop doing that… jesus.” You’re looking at the ground as you wipe his slobber off your mouth. He’s silent, panting as he just stands there and your heart starts to race.

It’s just like last time. Fuck. Why the fuck do I keep doing this shit.

Tears are already welling in your eyes and you decide to speak before he can send you away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that… I know you need time or whatever.” You pause, giving him room to say anything but he doesn't. You want to look up at him, see what he’s thinking, how he’s reacting. But you don’t.

“Yeah… I’m gonna go.” You turn around and finish your walk to the exit. You grab the handle and stop. “I- I’m gonna cut things off with Jared…” You stay silent for a bit, trying to decide whether you should say your next words. “I do need your affection though, Joel.” You rushed out the door after that.

------------------------------------

You just want to fuck him already. It’s been months now, of this back and forth. To be clear, you do still want him romantically, how could you not? This man, when his hair is fluffy and soft just like him. When you see his expression now light up when you walk into the room. When he builds you little trinkets in the shop, instead of doing the job he was assigned to. When he makes your favorite for dinner after finding out that you’re having a bad day. When he plans movie nights featuring your favorites that he could find on DVD.

How could you not love him?

It scares you. The “situation-ship” you both were currently in started a few months ago. Actually… It started exactly four months and three weeks ago. There’s no point in pretending you haven’t kept track. Joel told you that he needed time. You would have never expected it to be this much time but you’ve grown to love and crave him over the months.

He listened to what you said at the bar that night. He’s been giving you so much affection it’s actually making the other women in the community quite jealous of you. He hasn’t kissed you yet but he kisses your cheek, your forehead, and- when he’s drunk or high enough- your neck. You don’t kiss him anymore. You’ve kissed his cheek a few times over the months, his head once when he was sick but other than that you try to keep to yourself. You’re still a bit traumatized from his first rejection, the way it played out, and everything. You’d rather just not risk it.

You’re in the garden and he’s in the field. You’re planting flowers, pulling and re-planting vegetables while Joel is harvesting the wheat he planted four months ago and tilling the land for the new seeds. You keep looking over at him, you really can’t help it at this point.

The sun is shining through his hair, making it a dark golden color with streaks of white running through it. His arms are smudged from handling the dirt all day and his biceps flex repeatedly as he picks the kernels off of the wheat and throws them into his basket. His eyebrows are creased and his eyes squinted to avoid the burning light of the sun and he keeps looking over at you. He really can’t help it at this point.

You look so beautiful, sitting on your knees with your adorably mismatched gardening gloves. Your hair falls so angelically every time you lean forward to lead a new plant to its home. Every time you sit back up you use the back of your wrist to try and shove the hair from your face, sputtering out, trying to blow the hair away and it's so endearing. Your arms are dirty and he feels the incredibly odd urge to bathe you. He’s ready to love you. He’s so fucking ready but he has no clue— not even the slightest— as to how he should tell you.

The current supervisor calls it a day and you almost fall face-first into the plants in your scramble to get to Joel. He’s taking off his gloves, flexing and stretching his fingers when he sees you rushing toward him with a huge smile he can’t help but mirror. “Hey, darlin’. You look so beautiful today.”

You freeze where you stand which luckily isn’t too far from Joel. He makes his way over to you, watching your expression. He loves it so much, he doesn’t understand how he never noticed it before. The way you always take a deep, shaking breath, your eyebrows go inward and you give him this look. He doesn’t understand it yet but it always makes him ache for you, makes him burn somewhere in the depths of his being to just be with you. He doesn’t know how long he can resist it. He doesn't want to. He doesn’t.

“I’m- I think I really- I just really wanna kiss you.” You snap out of your daze and your eyes focus on him, hopeful for a moment then a little dull. You turn your head, give him your cheek, close your eyes, and wait for the gentle kiss but nothing happens. You slowly open your eyes and look at him, he looks scared. “I wanna kiss you.”

You can hear your heart speed up, your breaths getting shorter and your thoughts more jumbled.

He wants to kiss me?

You’re confused for a moment, not understanding what brought this on. You’re eyes slip from his contact as you lose yourself in your thoughts, not realizing the silence you’re creating or the anxiety you’re causing. But Joel realizes, he’s sweating more than he has all day as he waits for you to say something, do something. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before giving up. “We don’t have to… I just- I wanted to…” He tries and fails to keep the sadness out of his voice.

His words strike fear in you and you reach out to grip his arm, hoping it’s enough to stop him from walking away. “Y-You wanna kiss me? On the… on the lips?” He’s surprised by your voice, it sounds far away, loose, and airy.

“I do.” It comes out with no hesitation, no stutters, no pause. You take a step closer to him and his expression twitches, his chest beginning to heave with anticipation.

“I would really love that, Joel.” You’re staring up at him now, as best you can in the sun. You’re looking into his eyes, an excited, mischievous glint in your eyes, challenging him, daring him to do something. And he loses his nerve.

“Oh! Okay. Thats… Thats good. I- I want you to come over later, alright? I’ll get us some weed and alcohol. You don’t need to bring snacks or nothin’ either jus- jus bring yourself, alright? Okay, see you then.” And with that, he walked off. His cheeks were absolutely burning. He couldn’t believe himself

‘That's good’? What the fuck is wrong with you, Miller? Leaving that darlin’ girl standing in the sun like that? It just ain’t right, she’s so sweet on you and you fuckin’ know it. I gotta stop doin’ this to her…

You’re watching Joel walk away. A bit stunned by the whole interaction, confusion, and questions swarm your head the whole walk home. They stick with you in the shower and as you get ready to head over to Joel’s. They accompany you on the whole walkover as well.

Maybe he wants me to do something… I know people like it rough, so maybe he wants me to take charge? He doesn’t really seem the type. Does this mean he wants me now? Will he kiss me tonight? Is that why he invited me over? Are we gonna have sex? Oh god, I hope so. I’d treat him so well- or maybe I wouldn’t since everyone likes it rough.

You’ve reached his block when you’re stopped by Susan; Joel’s biggest admirer. She places herself in front of you, blocking your path and forcing you to talk to her. “Oh, he’s not in, hun.”

You take a calming breath and try not to roll your eyes at her. “Okay… Well, I’m gonna check, just in case.” You turn your steps and try to make your way around her only for her to place herself right back in your way.

“I’m gonna be honest I- I don’ really get this whole thing with you an’ him. I just- I guess I don’ really see it… Do ya’ know what I mean?” You glare at her, ignoring her statement and waiting for her to just get out of your way. “I mean…” She steps closer to you. “I remember when you first got here…”

You can feel shame and embarrassment curl in your stomach at the mention of your arrival. You weren’t in the best place, mentally, and you did a lot- a lot- of things that you wished you hadn’t, lots of men you wished you hadn’t. “Don’t be an ass, Susan.” She backs away from you, a sinister smile on her face and her hands in the air.

“Hey! I’m” She laughs. “I’m jus sayin’... You were interested in a lot of different guys!” You start walking, refusing to listen to what she has to say. But the psycho bitch follows you. “I mean are you even sure that it’s him that you want? Weren’t you with Jared just a few months ago? I mean…”

You’re speed-walking to Joel’s now. You’re only a house away when she hops in front of you again. “Hun! I told you he ain’t home! I’m just-” She sighs and lowers her head as you crane your neck, hoping and praying Joel had made his way to the porch by now. But he hasn’t. “If you just want a man I can set you up with some of my friends! Some people who are… Gosh! How do I say this without bein’ rude? Some people who are more in your… lane… league?” Your head whips back at her, fury raging in your eyes at her audacity.

“Excuse me?” You question, low and threatening. “Well. Hun, c’mon now, don’t get all bent outta shape, I mean well! You and I both know Joel is too… hmm, well. He’s too good for you I guess.” You’re not staring at her, you’ve turned your head to the patch of sky you can see through the trees beside you, choosing to count the stars instead of listening to this shit.

“I’d strongly disagree.” You can hear her gasp and spin around as a smile spreads over your face.

Joel.

“Oh! I- I thought you weren’t home, sugar.” She tries to lean into him but he walks around her and grabs your arm, pulling you past her with a mumble of “Yeah. I know.”, ending the conversation.

Joel doesn’t speak until he’s gotten you inside. “I dunno why you listen to that woman. She spews nothin’ but garbage.” You watch him dart from cupboard to cupboard to retrieve his lighter and a little joint you can tell he rolled because it’s dented in the middle. “She’s always saying some dumb shit. I fuckin’ hate it.”

His eyebrows are furrowed and his face is hard as he lights it up. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him so angry. You watch the tension fall from his shoulders, his face relaxing as he inhales. You take your shoes off, still watching him as a small smile spreads over his face and he exhales. “Are you gonna share Joel?” You ask as he goes in for another hit.

“Hey- Be nice darlin’, it’s mine after all.” He teases while handing it to you. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting next to where he’s leaning as you take a drag.

“Yours schmours, you’ll be fine.” He giggles— giggles— at your statement, his hand coming up to cover his smile as he laughs. All you can see are his pretty brown eyes, the creases around them, and the way they almost shut while he laughs. You feel your heart race, bringing along that urge that has gotten you in trouble many times over. Your eyes flicker to his lips and you immediately avert your gaze, taking another hit to try and calm yourself.

You wait for him to come back up from his designated, folded, laughing position and hold the joint out for him. You snort at the misshapen stick, causing you to choke on the smoke you were holding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what you get for laughing. Mhm.” You’re coughing up a lung as he says this, making the situation worse because you cannot stop laughing at him. He continues his remarks after taking a hit, you’re still choking and laughing, and you hold an arm out to him.

“Joel-” You cough. “Joel-” You laugh. “Joel, stop it. I’m- oh fuck.” You start coughing again in a way that has Joel turning to face you, amusement and a bit of concern on his face. “Oh my god, stop. I’m gonna die, don’t make me laugh- oh my god.”

He’s beaming at you, proud that you find him so funny and the high really hitting him. You can tell, his eyes are a bit hazy and his eyebrows are raised for some reason. He walks towards you when your fit dies down, pushing himself between your legs with a dazed look on his face. He’s just staring at your thighs for a moment, his head turning from left to right so he can look at both of them before looking up at you. Your heart is thrumming out of your chest as you try to keep your expression neutral, maybe a bit inquisitive. He stares at your lips for a bit before you see his hand raising with the joint. He brings it to your lips and looks back up at your eyes, his eyebrows jump, prompting you to inhale.

You take a long hit, trying to get as much smoke as you can, hoping it will calm you down. His eyes stay on yours, darkening as his breathing becomes a bit shallow. He pulls the joint away from your lips and puts it out right onto the counter before bringing his hand up to your cheek.

You haven’t exhaled yet, savoring the hit while he slowly brings your face to his. You’re watching his eyes, still on yours as he pulls you in. You begin to exhale, not wanting to hold the smoke in if he’s going to kiss you. That’s when he pushes your lips together. You try not to choke as he sucks the smoke out of your mouth and pulls away. You’re in a stupor as he grins at you and breathes your smoke out, re-lighting the fire in the pit of your stomach, the one that always seems to flare whenever he’s around.

“What’d ya think of that, huh? Good kiss or?” He’s wearing a smirk but his eyes are uncertain at your silence. You keep it up, not saying anything, just pulling him back in and smashing your lips into his. He accepts your kiss with a grunt from the force of it as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in.

You’re gripping his hair like it's your lifeline, gripping his face like it’ll fall apart otherwise, it hurts a little but he’s fond of your eagerness. Your hands slide onto his shoulders and you dig your fingers into his skin brutally, pulling a wince from him. He separates your lips and strokes over your cheek with his thumb, admiring you. It's a soft, tender moment until you yank him by his belt loops, crashing him against the counter painfully to whisper in his ear. “I want you, Joel”

He smiles at this and kisses you again as you undo his belt. You remove it from the loops and let it drop to the ground so you can get to work on his button and zipper. You feel his lips stutter against yours and he pulls away, confused. “Not- not here, darlin’. ‘M not gonna do this in the kitchen.” He sounds a bit confused as he grips your hips and lifts you off of the counter and back onto the floor. They come back up to cradle your face again as he places a quick, soft kiss on your lips. “ ‘M gonna make love to you in my room, on my bed, baby.”

Make love..?

Confusion flows through your mind but you go along with him, assuming it’s just some outdated terminology. “Yeah? You gonna fuck me in your bed, Joel?” He is so shocked by your response. He doesn’t understand why you’re being so aggressive about it. He’s trying to be gentle, and loving but you seem to reject it. He gives you a brief but genuine smile before leading you to his room,

Your heart is racing as you follow Joel to his bedroom. This would be the first time you’ll be having sex with someone you care about, someone you love. You wondered if it would feel any different when he was shattering your hips with his own, would there still be that soft look of adoration in his eyes? You don’t see how the two could go together.

You get to his room and he shuts the door quietly. “Can you stay still, honey?” He rolled his sleeves up, only halfway, showing off his thick forearms. He’s circling you as he questions you, holding eye contact and stopping in front of you. “I- I wanna undress you.”

Your throat feels like it’s closed.

Undress me? Why would he want to- That doesn’t seem very time-efficient… Oh, but look at him.

His eyes are silently and subconsciously begging you to let him. You let him.

He takes a deep breath and his eyes rake down your body the moment you nod at him. He grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a boyish grin before running his fingers along the hem of your shirt. They tickle your skin softly as he brings them up, bunching the fabric before pulling it over your head. He looks right into your eyes as he does this. That soft look digs into your chest, it feels like you may explode.

He only breaks away from your gaze to throw your shirt on a chair in the corner. He brings his empty hand to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb across your skin as a sort of apology for diverting his attention. He looks back at you with a smile so gentle you may melt.

Your knees almost give out when he unbuttons your pants, he sticks his thumbs in the back of your waistband, leaning into you. He’s so close. He’s so close. He’s smirking like he knows you want to kiss him. He leans forward, licking his lips before abruptly ducking down, pulling your pants with him.

You let out a surprised squeal that has him smiling up at you. Your hand comes up to bury itself in his hair before you realize it. You admire the softness of it, how fluffy it is. His eyes droop, getting a foggy, clouded look in them as he stares up at you.

Make it good for him. Everyone likes it rough.

You pull it, much harder than necessary, and watch his eyebrows crease in what you assume is arousal as he grunts again. He lifts from his kneeling position and kisses you, a little harder than he did before.

His hands were running down your back, cupping your ass, and then stroking down your thighs. He’s breathing heavily against your face as his hands squeeze your inner thigh. They roam all over your body but never go where you want them, where you need them.

“Okay, Joel. Enough I need you. I- I need you.” He smiles underneath his bitten lip as you push him away and gesture to his entire body. “Take them off… Off!”

You’re basically ripping your undergarments off and running to him, unbuttoning his shirt for him as he takes off his pants. The moment your hands push his shirt open he’s kissing you instead. He walks you both onto the bed, tripping over his pants with a giggle before landing safely on the covers. You waste no time in climbing over him, whining out when his cock rubs along your soaked pussy. He lifts himself to try and kiss you but you’re not looking at him. You’re trying to push his dick into your soaking, aching pussy.

“Shit- Damn. Fuck, honey.” He slams himself back onto the bed, his hands tighten around your hips as you position your legs beneath you and slam your hips onto him. It fucking burns. You’re wet and wanting but he’s huge, the stretch of his fat cock burns inside you as his tip jams itself into your cervix painfully. You bit off more than you can chew. Joel is grunting harshly beneath you so you power through, attempting to hide your grimace as you let out half-honest moans.

“Fuck- No. No, no, stop, baby.” His hands force you down and hold you there, rendering you immobile as he sits up. You’re watching his abs clench as he sits up with no assistance but his pure muscle, your eyes only move to his face when he clears his throat.

You’re embarrassed now, under the impression that you’ve done something wrong, something he didn’t like. You wouldn’t know what to do if that were the case… You were doing what you normally do… You don't know any special moves or anything like that. “Did- You didn’t like it..?”

You ask as timidly as possible, hoping he could hear it and would be gentle.

“I- I mean I guess but it’s not what I want.” Confusion and a bit of anger flares inside you. How were you supposed to know what he wanted?

“Okay well, what do you want then, Joel?” His brows furrow and he brings a hand up to caress your face again.

“I want to make love to you. I told you that.”

There’s that fucking term again.

“I don’t know what that means, Joel! Isn’t it the same as fucking? I don’t get it.” His brows unfurrow instantly, becoming soft and a bit upturned in what seemed to be concern. And to add insult to injury… you can feel him softening inside you.

“What do you mean?” His voice is much softer than yours, but it frustrates you. You struggle not to roll your eyes at him.

“I do not know what that means. I do not understand.” You talk slower than necessary, not actually explaining anything. You’re being a brat.

He tilts his head at you, giving a gut-wrenching, disappointed look. He kisses your cheeks and tells you to be nice, that he’s just trying to understand you.

“No… It’s not the same as fuckin’. It’s gentle and lovin’. It’s me takin’ my time with you, gettin’ you to open up for me.” You can feel his dick filling back up, stretching you out beautifully.

“It’s me learnin’ about what you like, showin’ you what I think you’d like, and getting you to cum around me and for me as long as I can. It’s more focused on- on love rather than lust.” He sighs quietly. “I’m- I’m bettin’ you’ve never had that though…”

You hear sadness leak into his voice as he ends his sentence, watching you avert your gaze. He watches frustration and shame creep onto your face. “So what? I don’t even- I don’t think I even like it that way. Slow? It already takes me long enough to cum… I don’t need to be here for hours on end, Joel.”

He shakes his head at you sadly. “You would like it, baby.” He has one hand back on your hip as the other spreads out, his large hand spread over your back as he slowly flips you both over, resting you on the bed softly. “I- fuck, I know you’d love it, honey.”

His words resonate deep in your core, bringing a new wave of wetness to run over his cock. “Oh-” His hips stutter into yours as though he could feel the extra cream flowing over his dick. “Yeah, oh you’d- I think you’ll like it, darlin’”

He places you on the bed and finishes talking before kissing you and raising to straighten himself out. His hips thrust slowly into yours and fuck does it feel good. I mean of course it does, Joel is towing over you like a Greek god and his cock is sliding within your walls smoothly, stimulating every nerve it comes across. You start to buck your hips, impatient with the slow build of the pleasure. You wanted something explosive, something that will leave you heaving for breath and you cannot comprehend how you could possibly get there like this.

Joel smiles, shakes his head at your agitation, and presses his hands down onto your sporadic hips, forcing them to stay on the bed. “No. Softly, baby. Be gentle with me, c’mon.” He continues his rhythm before, rocking into you with breathless pants. Your pleasure felt just out of reach and it was insanely maddening. “Calm down.” He tells you in a low, warning tone. You swear he can read your mind.

“Tell me.” He leans down so his lips are right by your ear. He places a kiss on your temple and looks down at where the two of you connect, shoving his hair in your face. “Do you like this?” He keeps at his regular pace, the frustrating, agitating, insanely maddening pace. “Or… Do you-” He lets out a shuddering sigh right next to your ear, your eyes nearly rolling back at the faint sound. “Or do you like this?”

His pace changes into something indescribable. His hips are swiveling into yours and hitting eighteen different pleasure points at once. Your arms come up to grip his biceps, one instantly sliding down to his lower back to encourage him to keep it up.

“Oh-” You sound shocked and out of breath. “Oh. I like that one, Joel. This one. I like this one- please” His pace speeds up and he moans at the sound of your whimper. His attention is finally pulled from where you both meet and he’s looking right into your eyes.

This man and his fucking eye contact.

It’s doing something to you… the way he’s looking at you. It’s burning into your stomach and has you clenching around him, pulling another ragged, angelic moan from his lips, hitting your lips directly due to his position. You lean up and kiss him as much as you can, most of your brain had shut off the moment he flipped you both over.

He was hitting so deep inside you, a whole section that you didn't know existed. His cock is slowly sliding over every ridge in your pussy, his veins stimulating your sensitive walls. “Joel-”

It slips out like a whimper as your moans release. You’re suddenly on 100% volume, unable to hold anything in. You never learned how. You thought you just didn’t moan against your own will, never having been in enough pleasure to let out authentic moans.

Your hand comes from his lower back to slap over your mouth, desperately trying to hold all your noises in but Joel rips it away. “Don’t do- fuck you feel so fuckin’ good-“ His voice is shaking and breathless.

“Fuck, don’ cover up your- your moans, please. Fuck I wanna hear ‘em” He intertwines your fingers with his and holds your hand next to your head. He straightens himself as much as he can while keeping your fingers interlocked so he can grind into you more deliberately. He’s angling himself a million different ways until you convulse onto yourself. You try to hold in a scream as he fucks into… something. It’s almost painful, the way pleasure punches through your body with every thrust.

“Yeah?- God fuckin’ dammit."

His hips stutter as you involuntarily suffocate his dick in your pussy. “Fuck- Is that it? Your special spot, honey? I got it dead on, huh?” He’s wearing an irritatingly calm smirk as he teases you. You, on the other hand, can barely breathe.

You’re clawing at anything you can get a hold of, his arms, the back of his neck, his back. You feel like you could cry- or throw up at the otherworldly pleasure Joel is forcing onto you. Your mouth is perpetually open, spewing out moans every other second. Your eyes keep rolling back into your head despite your attempts to look at Joel. You can’t even wrangle together enough thoughts to coherently explain how good it feels, how good he’s making you feel. “Jo- Joel. F-” You’re cut off with a whine as he pushes himself into you more forcefully.

“Joey, please- You’re right it’s s’much better. Shit- Joel!-” You let out a more devastating moan than you have all night, causing Joel to groan out in response. Your eyes open to look at him and he’s staring right at you, his eyes are something you’ve never seen, they’re dark and threatening, like a lion stalking its prey. But in this situation the lion is in love with the gazelle, it’s evident in his eyes, all over his face as he moans for you.

“Of course ‘m r- right- Fuck, you’ve really got no clue how- how fuckin’-” His statement melts into a whimpering moan as he bends back down to moan into your ear. “You feel fuckin’ heavenly, darlin’.”

It creeps up on you out of fucking nowhere. A moan rips through your chest and destroying throat as you cum around him, his words pushing you to the edge. “Oh fu-uck. Yeah? S’that good, baby? Fuckin’- fuckin’ c-cumming all over my cock with no warning, love? Oh fuck me you’re s-so good, sweetheart.”

His words fuel your world-demolishing, soul-shattering, mind fucking-ly amazing orgasm. You can feel the pleasure coursing through your veins like molten gold. Your entire body is vibrating, you’re lifting off the bed into an ethereal plane as Joel keeps thrusting into you, moaning soft praises in your ear as you gush all over his cock.

Your eyes are permanently in the back of your skull as your hand runs frantically all over his body, trying to find something to ground you, to keep you from flying away on the cloud of pleasure Joel was providing for you.

He slows his thrusts in favor of you. Your moans had begun to get a bit desperate, all over the place, feverish and distraught as your pleasure bubbled over into overstimulation. Joel is kissing your neck softly, whispering even more soft words laced with love as your soul returns to your body with a broken whine of his name. He pulls his face out of your neck with a smile, his hips still thrusting into you slowly, just toeing the line of overstimulation. It has you losing your mind. You’re writhing against him as he smirks at you. “Do you want more? I can keep going, baby. I’ll go slow, soft, just like this.”

He gets a bit breathy at the end, his free hand comes up to cup your face as the one holding yours tenses for a moment. His head drops onto your shoulder as most of his body collapses onto you.

He’s still thrusting into you gently as he groans out against your neck. “Fuck me. You’re turning me into a fuckin’ teenager again.” He grunts out a whine into your skin. “Can’t fuckin’ control shit. O-oh I wanna make you cum again, sweetheart.” His hips speed up as he rambles to you. You lean away from him a bit, forcing his head from your shoulder, and turn to look at him.

He looks so wrecked. His lips are trembling, glossy, and red from all his biting. You didn't even notice. His eyes are on yours but they regularly lose focus, rolling into his head with a groan. “You’re makin’ me feel so fucking good, love. I just want you to feel as good- I wanna make you cum again.” He sounds more desperate than you could’ve ever imagined, your hand slides up the back of his neck and buries itself in his hair, scratching at his scalp softly, causing his eyes to cross lightly as he moans against you, hips stuttering. “Let me. Let me, let me. Let me pl-lease”

His unabashed begging has you clenching around him erratically, pulling a ruined groan from his lips. “M-make me cum again, Joel. C’mon, baby. I want-” He’s already moaning into your mouth as you speak, his hips fucking into you unsteadily. You’re already close from the intensity of the moment, Joel’s hand cradling your face, your hand in his hair. His head is resting against yours, forehead to forehead but his eyes are still open, piercing your soul and your heart with the love that's residing in them, it has your pussy clenching around him desperately. He’s moaning out shamelessly, loudly, and right into your face, into your mouth.

“I’m gonna- I need you to c-cum. Holy sh-” You cut him off with a wet, searing kiss that’s mostly groans and whines into the mouth of the other. Your hips lift off the bed to buck into him softly, grinding your clit into the patch of curls that rests on his pelvis. He’s smiling at your movements, the contrast in how they were when he started with you.

“Y-yeah. Good, baby. Soft. Just l-like that, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ pure.” His eyes roll back into his head as your pussy begins to flutter around him. You can feel it this time, building inside you. The coil in your stomach tightens as you feel the angelic feeling inch back into your veins. Your hands grip his hair more desperately, pulling his ear to your lips as your orgasm begins to spill over.

“I’m- I’m cumming, Joey.” You’re voice stabs into him. The high-pitched and desperate, shocked innocence in it has him twitching inside you. His pace is ruined the moment you utter those words into his ear. He can feel his eyes shoot to the back of his head as he falls into your shoulder again and starts to cum inside you.

It’s more than heavenly, cumming at the same time as you. His cock is throbbing, shooting out thick, heavy, ropes of his cum inside you as your pussy pulses in time with him, milking him for everything he has. He can’t breathe, all the air has punched out of him as he tries to warn you that he’s cumming.

He wants to moan out for you, call your name over and over to hear you work yourself up into those whining moans you can’t help but let out. He gathers enough strength to push himself up and look at you. He feels like a whole new round of cum spews out of him at the sight. Your eyes are crossed as you moan out at the ceiling. He’s vaguely aware of the way your hand has twisted and tightened in his hair as you cum, your nails digging into his other hand.

He’s smiling through the second round of cum that pumps into you, deliriously happy with how hard he’s made you cum. You sound like you’re in the same situation as him, all the air suddenly gone from your lungs. You’re just letting out barely perceptible moans of his name on loop.

His thighs shake as his dick finally stops pouring into you. He looks down at the ring of white sitting on the base of his dick and groans. He looks back up at you, wanting to show you the mess you’ve made on him but you’re still so far gone. Your pussy pulses around him arrhythmically as you mutter up at the ceiling, your hand stroking through his hair subconsciously.

He’s able to come down before you. He pulls out and lays next to you, his head on your chest while he’s muttering those same, soft praises into your ear as your soul tries to find its way back to your body again. You follow the sound of his low praises, grounding you and pulling you back to reality. “-baby. I’m so in love with you. Thank you so fuckin’ much for waitin’ for me, I know it was hard, but I love you so fuckin’ much. You’re so incredible, so so incredible, baby. The best lady I know, the only lady I wanna know. You-” You have a faint, tired smile spreading across your face as he goes on, sounding more out of it than you feel.

“I love you so much, Joel.” You mean to say it softly, fondly but it comes out as something more like a sob. He gasps and looks up at you, that’s when you notice the tears that have escaped your eyes. “This is so embarrassing…” Your hands wipe at your escapee tears furiously as Joel watches you in shock.

“Hey,” He starts to wipe some of your tears away alongside you, although much more softly than your own hands. “ S’not embarrasin’.” He places an endearing kiss to your lips. “I think it’s so fuckin’ cute. The cutest things I’ve seen in years, honestly.”

You giggle at his exaggeration and kiss his cheeks. “I’m bein’ serious, baby.” He’s giggling too now, placing kisses all over your face, stopping every tear that slips out with his lips.

“I love you so much, Joel.” You take a deep breath as his kisses slow. “It feels like my heart is being choked, squeezed, and like thrown around in my chest whenever I’m with you. I don’t even have the vocabulary to explain how much I feel for you.”

His eyes are wide and a bit watery as you speak. One hand is on the top of your head, running over your hair as you speak while the other is on your him, his thumb stroking over the skin, sometimes lifting to draw specific patterns. “I wish I had a way to make you feel what I feel toward you, Joel. It’s so fucking much. I feel like it’s gonna explode and pour out of every orifice.” He chuckles and kisses you again, this one feels more emotional, more loving, grateful, and comforting.

“There you go, talkin’ all proper again.” He kisses you again shortly. “I- I feel the same way darlin’. Except I know even less words to use to explain it to ‘ya. Fuck I- I fuckin’ I wish I could tell ‘ya. You- You feel like- like my whole existence. If that makes sense… No, no it doesn’t, does it? Damn. I- Shit.” You place a hand on his face and make him look at you.

“You don’t have to say as many things as I did. You’ve already shown me that you love me through your actions… through this. I didn’t even know it could be like that, Joel. That it could- could feel that… good. I didn’t know it was a thing, and then you came in- with all your love and softness, and you showed me a whole new side of everything. I already know… is what I’m trying to say. I know you love me, Joel. I just hope you know that I love you.”

A single tear slips out of his baby cow eyes and he quickly wipes it away with a smile. “I- I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” He smiles wider and brighter than you’ve ever seen, he’s blinding you with its beauty before laying back down on the bed next to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you onto him.

“You’re gonna stay, right? Sleep in here with me?” You shake your head disapointedly against his stomach.

“Obviously, I’m staying here, Joel.” The sigh of relief he lets out almost breaks your heart. You place a few kisses on his belly for reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at your words and sounds far away, sleepy, adorable. “Okay… Good. Good, I want you to stay… ‘M gettin’ tired though, honey.” As if on cue, a yawn makes its way up and out of your mouth. “Yeah, me too. Goodnight, Joey.”

He sighs, and you can’t see it, but a smile splits his face the moment he hears the nickname. “G’night, my love.”

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

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d1lf-loverrr

4 years ago

TOO GOOD TO BE FAKE: CHAPTER 4

JAMES POTTER X F!READER

hello hello again!! this is part 4 (!!) of my james potter fake dating series. oh my wordddd do these two have it bad 🥹 i'm having sooooo much fun writing this, it's mostly done by now i'm just refining little bits and pieces. i'm also aware i can use a lot of the same words again so i apologize for that. anyways i hope you enjoy!!! xoxo sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 2012

prev in series:

1: This Is Going to Be a Problem

2: That Wasn't a No

3: Fake It 'Til You Make It

4: That’s New

— 1 —

I should have known this would happen.

A week—or maybe two—has passed, and somehow, this strange, impossible arrangement has settled into something almost routine. People still notice. They still watch. But the whispers have changed. Less sharp, less scandalized. Now, they sound more like admiration, laced with something close to adoration.

"They’re actually kind of cute." "Did you see how he looked at her yesterday?" "Merlin, I think I believe it."

I don’t scan the room like I used to, searching for stray glances or hushed gossip. My eyes naturally glide to the Gryffindor table, the usual spot where four boys are chatting raucously. And, unable to focus on anything else, I focus on James.

He’s already there, draped across his usual spot like he owns the very air around him, a laugh spilling from his lips at something Sirius just said. There’s a looseness to him, a careless sprawl that makes my fingers twitch with irritation. Because of course he isn’t fazed. He was built for this—the way people track his every movement, drawn in without even meaning to be. He soaks it up like it’s his birthright, as if the entire room is simply bending to accommodate him, orbiting around his gravity.

Meanwhile, I’m fighting to keep planting one foot in front of the other.

And yet, as if feeling my eyes on him, James turns—and the second he sees me, his entire demeanor shifts.

The dazzling grin stretches wider. His eyes brighten in delight, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. And then, because he’s insufferable, he lifts his hand in greeting—fingers wiggling, smirk widening.

“Morning, baby!”

It’s loud enough for people to hear.

I swear I hear someone gasp.

Alice, walking beside me, chokes back a laugh. Jade just mutters, “Unbelievable.”

But then I spot Simon, sitting just a few tables away. His posture is stiff, his hands clenching his goblet a little too tightly. He’s looking at me. Or rather—at James.

And suddenly, I don’t care anymore.

Before I can think better of it, I move toward James, and the smile on my face doesn’t feel so forced.

— 2 —

I sit down, and James immediately moves closer. He doesn’t hesitate. He throws an arm over my shoulders, the weight of it easy, natural, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

I don’t know why that makes my stomach flip.

I expect him to say something smug, something loud and theatrical to make the whispers grow, but instead—he lowers his voice.

“Was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

I freeze for half a second—just long enough for him to notice.

It’s different. The teasing intonation is still there, but his timbre is quieter, softer, meant just for me. Not for the show, not for the audience. Just for me.

I recover quickly, reaching for my goblet. “I almost didn’t.”

James hums, fingers drumming idly against my shoulder. He glances at Lily—just for a moment, just long enough to see if she’s looking. I should feel triumphant. The plan is working. But the moment stretches too long, his gaze lingering, and something distasteful coils in my stomach when I glance at Lily, too.

He’s still looking at her, but when he speaks, he’s only talking to me.

“That would’ve been a shame.”

I don’t respond immediately. I can’t.

Because he leans in, just slightly, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he finishes—"I would’ve missed you."

I don’t stiffen. I don’t freeze. Instead, I react exactly the way I’m supposed to—like this is normal, like we do this all the time. A slow, easy smile tugs at my lips, and I let out a breathy little laugh, tipping my head just enough to brush against his.

"Good thing I showed up, then," I murmur, voice smooth, effortless, the perfect counter to his. Commitment to the bit.

It’s a performance, it has to be. But it’s too easy, too natural, the kind of rhythm we shouldn’t have mastered so quickly. It doesn’t feel like a role. It feels real. And judging by the way James’ fingers falter slightly against my shoulder, he feels it too.

Across the table, Sirius’ smirk falters.

"Well," he says, tilting his head, too perceptive for my liking. "That’s new."

James leans back, grinning again, too quick, too easy. “Nothing new about it, mate. Just talking to my girl.”

His girl.

I force a laugh, I force myself to look away, to refocus. But the damage is already done.

Because for the first time, Simon isn’t even in my mind, and James’ flirting feels like it’s not just part of the plan.

And worst of all—for the first time, I think he felt it too.

— 3 —

The corridors are crowded between classes, students weaving between one another, voices overlapping as they rush to their next destinations. I should be doing the same—moving, blending in, not lingering long enough to be noticed.

But then, a body steps into my path, not unlike the feeling when I first collided with James. Only looking up, I see Simon.

I halt, too fast, too obvious.

He smiles, but it’s different. Not amused. Not easy. Just… considering.

“Didn’t think he was your type,” he says slowly.

It takes me a second too long to respond. I blink, my brain working to catch up. "What?"

Simon gestures vaguely, but I already know what he means. James.

I could laugh it off, make some snarky comment, dismiss the way Simon is watching me like he’s actually trying to figure something out.

Instead, my fingers tighten around my books.

"I didn’t think you cared," I reply coolly.

Simon huffs out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly. "I don’t."

Liar.

But before I can push, before I can say anything else, a familiar voice cuts in.

"Alright, sweetheart?"

And just like that, James is there. Not from around the corner. Not catching up. Just… there. Like he knew I’d be standing here, like this is just another part of the routine.

Except it isn’t. We never made walking to class together a rule. And yet—here he is, standing beside me, slipping into the moment effortlessly, like he was always meant to be there.

His arm doesn’t come around my shoulders this time, but his presence is heavy enough to feel. His gaze flickers to Simon, just for a second, assessing.

Simon shifts, just slightly. "We were just talking."

James smiles, too tight, too sharp. "Yeah? About what?"

Simon doesn’t answer, because he knows.

James knows too. His presence is imposing—he knows he’s interrupting, I know it, and Simon definitely knows it. It’s strangely… protective.

I exhale slowly, turning my main attention to James. "Nothing important."

James turns to me then, ignoring Simon entirely, his eyes softening just slightly. "Walk you to class?"

My heart stumbles.

It’s not in the rules. It’s not for an audience. It’s just… him. Asking, sweetly and kindly. I should overthink it. I should question it.

But instead, I only nod, unaware that I’m smiling.

And just like that, I walk away with him.

— 4 —

The library is quiet at this hour.

It’s always quiet, but now it’s the kind of silence that settles into your bones, the kind that makes every movement feel heavier, every breath feel louder than it should. The lanterns flicker, casting long, stretching shadows across the towering shelves. The whole place smells like fresh bundles of parchment and half-empty pots of ink, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe.

Except… I can’t. Not really. Not when I know exactly why I’m here.

I told myself I was coming to study. To clear my head. To force myself back into something normal after a day that has been anything but. I told myself it had nothing to do with him. That it wasn’t about the way my pulse jumped when he showed up beside me earlier, that I wasn’t still thinking about the way Simon looked at us, or the way I had felt when I chose to walk away with James instead.

But lying to myself is getting harder.

The chair across from me scrapes against the floor. I don’t have to look up to know who it is.

James doesn’t belong in the library at this hour—or any hour, really. The last time I saw him with a book in front of him, he was using it as a makeshift pillow. But I feel him settle into the chair, his presence too tangible, too heavy, and just like that, the air shifts.

I should ask him why he’s here. I should question it, tease him, brush it off. But I don’t.

Instead, I just turn the page in front of me and keep my voice steady, even. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you here voluntarily.”

James doesn’t respond right away. I can feel him watching me, the weight of it pressing against my skin, penetrating into all my nerves as if they’re exposed. Then, finally— “I was looking for you.”

I falter.

It’s not what I expected. Not the easy banter, not the teasing. It’s quieter. Too honest.

I turn the page again, even though I haven’t actually read a single word. “Why?”

James leans back slightly, like he’s considering it. “Not sure.”

I finally glance up, and that’s a mistake.

Because the way he’s looking at me—it’s different.

Not smug, not amused, not like he’s trying to prove a point. It’s like he’s trying to figure something out, like he’s looking for an answer in my face that I don’t even have yet. He steps closer, approaching my seat slowly.

There’s a pull—deep, insistent, like gravity shifting just for him.

“You’re staring,” I say lightly, tilting my head. I mean it to be teasing, something to break the tension that’s building too fast, too thick. But my voice isn’t as steady as I want it to be.

James doesn’t look away. “So are you.”

I don’t have a response to that.

Silence stretches between us, thick and humming. The lanterns flicker again, casting shadows that move over the sharp angles of his face, and Merlin, I should say something. I should look away.

But I don’t.

Because he’s leaning in. Not much. Just enough.

Just enough that I can feel the space between us getting smaller, smaller, smaller. Just enough that I can see the flicker of something hesitant in his expression, something unsure, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll stop him.

I should.

I should pull away, laugh it off, remind him of what this is supposed to be. But his eyes drop to my mouth and I forget how to breathe.

A heartbeat passes. Two. The air is thick, crackling, waiting.

I blink, snap back to reality, shift slightly in my seat like I just remembered where we are, like I just remembered what we’re doing. My chin drops, I pull back.

James exhales, the spell breaking, the moment slipping through my fingers before I can fully grasp what it was.

He leans back, just enough to make it seem like it never happened at all.

And then—the smile is back. The effortless, easy, practiced one. The one that puts the distance back between us.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says, voice low, amused. “You almost looked like you wanted to kiss me. ‘S against the rules, y’know.”

So were feelings.

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head, forcing myself to roll my eyes even though my heart is still pounding against my ribs. “In your dreams, Potter.”

His teeth show. “Every night.”

I shove my book at him, because it’s the only thing I can think to do. He laughs, catching it easily, the moment slipping into something safer, something familiar.

Tomorrow, we’ll pretend this didn’t happen. Tomorrow, I’ll tell myself it was nothing.

But right now, I can still feel the ghost of his breath on my lips.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

Next in series: 5: Too Good To Be Fake (UPCOMING)

series page linked HERE

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d1lf-loverrr

1 year ago

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III (coming soon)

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know, I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.”

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 Webs of Fate

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

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d1lf-loverrr

2 months ago

Can’t wait for following parts!! Go read!

but I knew you | j.potter [part one]

note : I took a massive break - almost 2 years and I am back now to continue where I left off and decided to finally write this as it was the prompt I was most excited about from the ts + marauders list! Hope y'all enjoy and pls be kind to me, I am not sure if I still have it in me to write fics like I did before :(

warnings : unparalleled amount of angst (though it's obvious), James x lily, hurt with a little bit of comfort but that's not until I decide to be kind, mentions of injury, just pure angst for now, this is tamer than later parts

James gets into an accident during a Quidditch game and develop amnesia - he doesn't remember the past 2 and a half years, and he currently has the mentality of fourth-year James. This doesn't bode well for you that your boyfriend of 2 years now currently thinks he's still in love with Lily.

└——————— - [ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 - 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚗 ]. +

You were eating your pancakes while tuning out the usual commotion in the great hall when you felt his familiar presence behind you and that scent of his filling your nose, burning wood with hints of caramel and pine. You still wonder if your boyfriend uses perfume and don't really care enough to even ask as you prefer not to know to keep the illusion up. . .somewhat.

"Good morning, love." He greets you as he settled on the space beside you. Your housemates already knew to provide a space next to you, knowing James would appear any moment and claim it. He settled right in like he belonged in it, he did.

That, and people avoiding getting too closer to you in fear of your boyfriend setting his eyes on them and deciding they're a target for the Marauders' next pranks.

You smile at him. "Good morning, Jamey. You excited?"

He nods, flashing you his charming grin. "Always. Specially that you're gonna be watching me win another game against those sly bastards."

You laugh at him, you never understood the whole rivalry between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Sure you knew it dates back a thousand years ago to the founders, but you still cannot wrap your head around it.

Instead of disagreeing with him for the nth time, you only nod. "I'm sure you'll trample on them again like you did last time."

That response made him flash you his perfect set of pearly whites. Merlin, you can never stop your heart from skipping a beat when James bloody Potter grins like an idiot with hearts gleaming in his eyes.

You stand with the crowds cheering, waving the colors of red and gold son proudly as they yell at the top of their lungs. Welcoming the entrance of the Quidditch players of house Gryffindor.

There goes that familiar excitement, adrenaline creeping up from you as you take in the view of the Quidditch pitch filled with hundreds of students cheering.

And there goes your boyfriend in all his glory flying in with his broom, even looping in circles to show off and you laugh at that, Marlene scoffing beside you.

"Show off." She rolls her eyes.

You nod in agreement at that as you continued watching his familiar figure show off, flying close to the different stands to flash them his grin and once then he zeroed in on you, standing so proudly while waving at him.

He zoomed closer and gripped his broom to a halt, close enough to make sure you saw his wink which you playfully scoffed at. "Whad'ya say about giving a kiss for every goal, eh?"

You hear the surrounding students cheer and whistle as they enable his behavior. You laugh loudly at that but it's drowned out by their enthusiastic cheers, egging you to agree.

You roll your eyes this time. "But only if you win the game, if you lose then those points mean nothing."

James gives you the biggest grin and nods smugly at other Gryffindor at the stands. "Lucky me then, 'cause I never lose."

"I swear he needs a bludger to hit his head to knock 'im down a peg." Marlene scoffs next to you and crosses her arms. "That oughtta teach him."

The game is finally starting and the energy is higher than ever. You happily cheer on with your housemates as you watched your boyfriend play, never once taking your eyes off him.

You never really liked Quidditch, you though it was far too dangerous and ridiculous, why anyone would wanna risk getting hit by bloody balls so high up in the air in crusty brooms is beyond you.

But he loved it, he lived and breathed the sport. You also saw how much he enjoyed playing it with his best friend so you never spoke out against it despite how much you worry every single time he's on that broom in the air.

That bloody broom that you sometimes wish would malfunction so he'd stop using it and choose to stay on the ground with you forever, but you can't really clip his wings - so you just watch him soar.

And soar he did as he makes a show of flying in loops again to avoid the Slytherins blocking his way and successfully scoring a point. He turns right away to grin at you, although he was way too far - you could just tell he was grinning so proudly.

The noises drown out the sound of your heart beating rapidly. This is the nth game you've watched and you still cannot get used to it, this sport is gonna be the death of your heart one day.

It wasn't long before Gryffindor gained the upper hand, scoring way more than Slytherin did and the two Marauders were not above gloating.

They even made a show of smirking near the Slytherin stands so smugly, it had you slapping your forehead. They have a great knack for pissing people off.

The intensity of the game is rising as it nears its end and the opposing team try their hardest to catch up. The snitch finally appeared and it was down to the Seekers to finish the game and decide who wins this.

You watch in bathed breath as both Seekers chase after the snitch, right next to each other with both arms stretched out to catch it - everyone was watching them - and that meant everyone.

You turn away from them to look at James and it was there, as if the world slowed down as you watched a bludger make its way to him while he remained unaware - looking down at the two seekers competing below him in a close race to victory.

You felt your words get caught in your throat as it all happened too fast, you couldn't even get a word out as you watched him take the hit and his grip on his broom loosened.

It felt like forever watching him separate from his broom, fall slowly and Sirius flying down after him. The bludger hit him square in the back of his head and it disoriented him enough to make him fall off his broom.

You watch in horror as Sirius tried his best to catch up. It was only 2 feet from dropping to his death did he manage to grab James' arm and prop him up enough for both of them to tumble down and roll on the grass, avoiding pummeling straight down to multiply the bones they both had in their bodies.

You finally felt your scream escape you as you watched them roll on the grass. You hurriedly exited your seat and ran out of the stands. It felt like a blur, making your way down and running to where he was at.

All you could hear this time was your heart pounding, your blood almost raising to your head with how much you worried. You ran straight to James to who remained lying on the ground as the Professors were just a few steps behind you rushing in as well.

You dropped to your knees beside him, grabbing him to make sure there was still a sign of life in him. You called his name desperately many times as you shook his entire frame.

"It was probably my fault." Sirius was the first one to break the silence. Remus was quick to turn to him with a frown.

"Don't say that," Remus interjected right away. "No one could've seen it. It was unexpected."

"But it was my job to keep those buggers away from him," Sirius clenched his jaw. His position of leaning against the stone pillar not hiding his trembling frame. "I should've -"

"You saved him." You cut him off, your strong voice bouncing off the infirmary walls. "He would've just dropped down to die if you didn't act fast enough to catch him. By the time he was falling, some of the audience were still watching the Seekers."

Peter only nodded in silence, his eyes red from crying.

"Had you not been quick to dive after him, he would not be here in this room, but somewhere else getting treated for worse injuries." Remus added, agreeing to your words.

"You saved him, you're an incredible friend, Sirius." You give him a small smile which he returned, although you still see the strain in it.

"Did they say when he will wake up?" Peter asked, finally speaking up through his sniffles.

You shake your head, looking down at your hand in his. You are so not used to this, watching him lie so vulnerably like this. "They did not say, but they assured me that he's fine. Nothing is broken."

"That's a good thing, then. A fall like that would have been fatal, had it not been for Moony." Remus pats Sirius on the shoulder, your eyes did not miss the way Sirius followed his hand when he retracted it after the action.

You choose to ignore it and turn back to James' sleeping frame. You squeeze his hand. "He's a fighter, always been. He'll surely wake up in no tim-"

Not even getting the chance to finish your words, his eyes opened. It blinked many times to adjust to the light but you were already grinning so widely to see him regain conciousness.

"Bloody hell, the wonder boy lives." Sirius cheers as if he wasn't just moping and being all depressing moments ago. He walked over to James' bed, the opposite side of you to greet his best friend. "You bloody mutt! You finally decided to wake up, eh?"

Remus and Peter approached as well.

"Takes more than that to bring down a Potter, huh?" Remus joked.

"James Potter lives." Peter chimed in.

You ignore their jokes and dove right in to hug him, making sure you didn't put down all your weight on him and breathed in his familiar scent.

He's fine, you James is fine.

"You twat! I was so worried, I thought I was gonna have to wait on you to wake up for days or weeks."

You pull away smiling softly at him while he remained frowning. He scanned the people around him and the confusion left him as he saw the familiar faces of his best friends.

"Still disoriented, isn't he?" Peter asked Remus who hesitantly nodded at him. "Wakey wakey, Prongs."

"You worried the bloody hell out of us, mate." Sirius laughed, patting him on the chest.

"What- " James looked down, about to grab his head when he realized a weight rested on his hand. He looked down to find yours on top of his and immediately retracted it.

The action made the other three boys frown, it made your heart drop. You stare at him, you smile fading by the second as you start to drink him in.

His appearance, it is exactly like James. Your James. But those eyes, the way he looked at you like he did not know you, like you were a stranger made your skin crawl and it was then you slowly started to realize -

"Who are you?" James asked.

"Come on, mate. This is not funny." Remus scolded him, attempting to console you while a light tap on your shoulder as he stood next to you, looking down on James.

"What's not funny?" James asked, frowning still. "Why am I here and - what're you doing?"

You could feel your ears almost ring from the realization. It was slowly dawning on you while the other boys struggled to understand just what is happening.

"Sod off, Prongs. You gave ____ a big scare, it's not right to joke about it." Sirius was telling him off which was unusual but he's grown close to you enough through the years - he was your biggest supporter, he didn't like seeing your face react to James' words.

"What do you mean? And who is ____?"

You could almost laugh. Quidditch always scared you because of how dangerous it was but you let him soar free because he was a free bird when you met him, you weren't about to change that but here it is, your fears manifesting to a brutal reality.

"It's really not funny -" Peter was interrupted.

James sat up abruptly. "I don't understand you lot, I am telling you I don't know who that is." He points at you and the action made you want to throw up.

"Did he hit his head that hard?" Remus asked, starting to deduce the situation and forming theories right away as he was always the smart and rational one. "Prongs, you had an accident during Quidditch yesterday and you just woke up now."

"Yeah, mate. It was a big thing and your girlfriend, ____ has been with you all night." Sirius added.

"I have a girlfriend?" James frowned and looked at you, you begged yourself to look away so you woulnd't see how he looked at you like he was looking at a complete stranger but your eyes refused to move.

Instead they met his gaze bravely and every second felt like a stab to your chest.

"You've been together for 2 years, ____, tell him." Peter nudged you but your words would not come out.

You dared not move nor speak, in fear of what you'd show them. You knew you'd break down and you didn't want to show any of them that.

You swallowed it all down and just blankly stared back.

"If this is another prank you lot are pulling, it's not funny, we all know Lily is the only one for me."

Bloody fucking mumbling hell. That hurt.

to be continued . . .

part two | masterlist

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