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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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miguel masterlist ✩

NSFW

✩ smut drabble (18+)

Synopsis: “Oh come on, don’t be shy. Let me hear how good you feel, hm?” His grip on your waist doesn’t falter, no matter how hard you try to move your hips and bounce on him.

✩ miguel x fiancé smut (18+)

Synopsis: incoming, posting in 2 hours

✩ miguel x gn! reader smut (18+)

Synopsis: incoming

✩ wedding night husband!miguel x wife!reader smut (18+)

Synopsis: incoming!

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

Web of Destiny

Status: Oneshot

Paring: Miguel O’hara x SpiderReader (Y/n)

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Enemies-to-Lovers Troupe, RudeMiguel, BubblyReader, Swearing, Hidden Sexual Tension, femReader, Pinning, Flirting.

Summary: Hobie and Gwen successfully apprehend a Mysteiro anomaly from Earth-618 with the help of that universes Spider-person. Amazed by her skills they decided to bring her back to Nueva York. Much to Miguel’s dismay.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: My first Miguel x Reader fic! I’m super nervous but I hope you guys like it! Also, Reader is a Silk variant. Instead of Cindy Moon getting bit after Peter, it was Y/n. (Additional info at the end)

—————————————————————-

My name is Y/n L/n. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for the last three years, I've been the one and only Silk.

I’m pretty sure you guys know the rest. I saved the city bunch of times, made great friends along the way. Saved the city from collapsing into itself, found out I wasn’t the only Spider-person in my universe. Saved the city again. Saved my uncle. I couldn't save my best friend, Cindy Moon, so now I save everyone else.

Despite all that, I love being Silk. Because no matter how hard I fall, I always get back up. I’m just your friendly neighborhood Silk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lyla, what is it this time?” Miguel groans, swiping a screen to the side with a flick of his hand. His watch lights with a familiar ring just as his trusty assistant pops out of thin air, pacing around nervously. 

Lyla chuckles apprehensively, her lips forming into a nervous smile, “Uh-well. We have a tiny situation”, She brings her indent and thumb close together to show how minuscule the problem was at hand. 

Miguel’s eyes crease together in disappointment, a groan slipping past his lips. He begins to lower the podium towards the ground while cursing incoherently under his breath.

“How tiny?” 

“You’ll barely notice it!” She tries to assure, her smile twitching under his unimpressed glare.

Letting out a defeated sigh he turns the transmission off, turning to face the entrance. His head tilts to the side, hearing hurried footsteps walking towards his room, just as he steps down to the leveled floor. His hand rests against his hips, waiting for the doors to slam open. 

As if one cue the door opens wide, Hobie walks in with a bounce to his steps. He flashes Miguel a lopsided smile as Gwen follows behind him, followed by an unknown Spider. Miguel clenches his jaw feeling his body tingle at the sensation of the girl. She was a spider alright, but why was she here? Miguel raises an eyebrow as his eyes trace over the new female. 

Her tightly secured spandex suit did not bear the traditional spider-person colors. It was black and white which was unique but not something new. Her hair was out freely, falling past her shoulders as it swayed along her steps. And surprisingly she didn’t have a full covering mask, but a mask that just covered her jaw all the way up to her nose. 

Miguel clears his throat roughly, seeing how the female caught onto his deep and calculating stare. Her e/c eyes flutter as she too examines him, her eyes trailing from the top of his brown wavy locks all the way down to his torso. Luckily, his mask was off. But that only proved to be a problem as he couldn't help but feel self conscious under the piercing stare. 

“We’re back! It went by smoothly!” Gwen reports, stopping right in front of Miguel. Hobie places his arms across his back nodding sluggishly. 

Miguel huffs out at her words, turning to Hobie who was in charge of the simple mission. His glare alone caused Gwen to shuffle around awkwardly, his unsaid words of disappointment speaking volumes. 

“Hobie, who is this?” Miguel grumbles, his eyes darting to the girl, eyes filled with scrutiny. Upon hearing herself being mentioned the girl takes a step forward, and beside Hobie who shrugs off Miguel’s angered expression. 

“Hello, you're Spider-man 2099? Gotta say I expected someone ... .a little friendlier lookin-” the girl blurts out, his eyes widening at how straight forward her words were. Gwen couldn't help but clear her throat to prevent herself from giggling. 

“-Not saying you're ugly or anything, totally daddy material, but you're missing something, Ya know? Something that gives off the ‘friendly-neighborhood-Spider-man vibes?” She quickly adds, causing Hobie to snicker beside her. The girl blushes slightly, redness spreading from the tops of her cheeks. Miguel turns to face her, his arms leaving his hips to cross over his broad chest. He stares down into her smaller statue with annoyance. 

“Who are you?” He repeats again, his eyes scrunched together into a tight line. The female chuckles, looking in between him and the two other spiders who brought her here. 

“You look stressed, is he stressed?”

“He’s stressed all the time” Hobie adds, smirking when Miguel growls warningly under his breath.

“Jesus, you’re gonna get wrinkles ya know,” 

“You’re very chatty, probably means your canon hasn't happened yet. How long did you say you were Spider-woman for?” Miguel offers an unamused smile, holding nothing but annoyance in his tone. 

“Silk, I go by Silk in my universe,” she replies, mimicking his form by crossing her arms over her chest. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his expression changing to mild confusion. He knew Silk, he had a few Silk’s at headquarters. But this one, the one standing in front of him and peering up into his eyes through her thick lashes, was not the ones he was familiar with. 

She was different, because she made him feel….different. 

“Silk? But you’re not Cindy Moon.” 

The playful smile on the girl's face vanished at his worlds, her arms dropping to her side as her eyes widened, “How did you?….she….” 

Miguel sighs out, moistening his lips ever so slightly as he felt uncomfortable watching her look upset in front of him. A feeling he didn’t quite understand,

“Ahh…I see. She’s your canon?” 

The girl's eyes furrow at his words, puffing out her cheeks out in annoyance, “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s anything supposed to mean! All I know is I was taking names and kicking ass when these-“ the female glances at the two spider people beside her. 

“Spider fella’s show up! They’re the ones who brought me here!”  She states, throwing her hand in the air in frustration. Miguel clenched his jaw, his eyes landing on the slight pout he was able to make out from under her mask. Her large eyes staring into his eyes. 

‘She’s…like a puppy’

A subtle smile twitches along Miguel’s lips, his jaw immediately clenched to prevent the smile from breaking though. Deciding he had heard enough he turns to Hobie.

“Hobie, what’s the meaning of this? I specifically tasked you with bringing back an anomaly, not the Spider-person from that universe,” 

“Technically there is another Spider-person in my universe-“

“Zip it, grown men are talking!” Miguel hisses, his eyes snapping to her momentarily, giving her a warning look. 

“Gosh, I see what you mean. He’s a grump” 

“Miguel, chill. She helped us with the anomaly, I think she’d be a great asset to the team. A great help, honestly. She is quite good” Hobie explains, raising his head in mock surrender at Miguel’s unrelenting gaze. 

“That I am” the girl adds proudly, fist pumping Gwen playfully. 

Miguel tuts at his words, running a hand through his locks. She had a mouth on her that’s for sure, and Miguel didn’t seem to have the energy to deal with that. Not when the entire building was filled with smart-talking Spider-people, 

“I’m not too sure, I don’t know if I want another talkative Spider-person.” 

“Aw C’mon! She’s great! Right Gwen?” Hobie argues, glancing at Gwen for assistance, who jolts at being mentioned.

“I-Yes! Her webs come out of her fingertips!” She replies in awe, making the girl chuckle, she turns to Miguel who’s hard expression didn’t change. 

“Stop, you make me blush Gwen, and anyway, if he doesn’t want me I’m totally cool dudes. I know where I’m not wanted” She says softly. SHe gently pets Gwen’s shoulder reassuringly, touring to offer Hobie a smile before she takes a tentative step backwards. Just as she continues her way out Hobie sends a glare to his boss. 

“You sure you want her to leave? She could be an asset.” Hobie adds quietly, his eyes holding determination. Miguel sighs out, rolling his eyes for being so soft.  

“Wait.”

The girl's step came to a halt, throwing her head over her shoulder to glance back at Miguel with some surprise. She didn't think he would be the one to stop her seeing how unwelcoming he was. Now fully turning around to face the three, she places her arms along her hips, eyes squinting in question.

 “Hm? What up big ol’ grump?”

Miguel bits his lips, almost drawing blood when his fangs accidentally gaze past his lower lip. He began to regret calling her back. 

“First odd, stop with the nicknames. It’s childish. And second, I’ll allow it but as long as you're under surveillance for the first couple of months,” 

“Seriously?” her eyes widened, not believing that she was being given a chance. Gwen fist-pumps the air at Miguels words in happiness. 

Seeing how Miguel waited patiently for her response, the girl clears her throat. Her hand reached up to the top trace over her mask. “Sure, sounds good to me. I don’t mind!”. As she pulls her mask down, Miguel’s breaths come to a halt. 

If he thought her figure, her hair, her eyes were beautiful. It was nothing compared to her face. Her plump lips form into an amused smile, her eyes crinkling as Miguel openly gawks at her full appearance. 

The buzzing in the back of his mind that had been bothering him the moment she stepped into the confines of the room coming back at full force. Miuguel couldn't help but clench his fists, casting his eyes away from her. He didn't know what he was feeling, but his heart was racing erratically against his chest. And he was certain it could be heard. Miguel roughly clears his throat awkwardly to gain composure. 

“So, who's assigned to me?” the girl asks nonchalantly, walking back to the trio, absentmindedly twirling her mask. 

Ather question Hobie stand up straighter, smiling wide, “I can-”

“I will.” 

Miguel blurts out, his words causing Hibie to shoot him an amused glace, his smirk playing along his lips. Moiguel catches how the girl slightly cringes at his words, probably afraid of being with someone as intimidating as him. 

Feeling all eyes on him, he clears his throat, walking over to stand directly in front of her. Now that he was this close he was surprised how tiny she was compared to his buff and enormous stature. 

“I will watch over you for a few months, if you are not performing well enough I’m sending you back to your universe. Got it?” he says sternly, ignoring the fluttering deep within his gut. Maybe it was telling him how hellish the next few months would be with such a bubbly character.

The girl lets out a silvery laugh at his rough time, raising her hand in mock surrender. Her chest vibrates with amusement which makes Miguel gulp nervously at the sight. 

“Yes sir! Sounds good, when is the next mission chief?” 

“Don’t. Just call me Miguel” 

“Alright, Miguel, I’m Y/n L/n.” 

~~~~~~~~

“Wow, this is sick!” Y/n murmurs, twirling her wrist adorned with the newly made device. She was so bust inspecting every crevice of the devolve that she missed how Miguel rolled his eyes. Half in annoyance and half in amusement. 

“So this is what allows you to jump universes? That is so cool, this is giving ‘Back to The Future’ vibes” She chuckles as Miguel activates his suit, his mask covering his face from view. 

“Be careful with that, it's a very important technology. Don’t go playing a round with it-” Miguel warns, pointing to his own device. The smirk doesn't leave Y/n’s face as she adjusts her mask in place. 

“- And I’ll know, it also records every universe you enter. So if you so much as play around with it. I will know.” He snarls under his breath, walking past her.  

“Jeez, do you ever lighten up?” 

“Not when I’m burdened with so much, so come along”  Miguel urges, opening a portal a few feet away from them. Y/n works her fingers to detangle her hair watching Miguel step closer into the portal not giving her time to catch up.

“W-wait! Why are you rushing me? Wait up!”

“C’mon niña, we don't have all day. '' Miguel growls slowly.

“Hey! I’m not a kid!” Y/n argues, stepping right beside him. Migual fails to keep his lips from twitching into a smirk at the fact he understood her. Lucky for him she couldn't see the way his eyes soften with warmth due to his mask. But it only lasted a moment. As he stays quiet for a bit to which she huffs in annoyance, 

“I took Spanish once as an elective. So don't call me kid! It insulting” 

“Fine, I won't call you that.  Now try to catch up….princesa”

__________________________________________

A/N: My first Miguel x Reader Fic! I hope you guys enjoy! Ever since I watched Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse in theatres I’ve been hooked!! Miguel is just *chefs kiss* and being voice by Oscar Isaac is just the cherry on top! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! There might be a Pt2, but that’s only if you guys want it. Other then that, enjoy!! Also this is kind of a test to see if anyone would be interested in this fic idea.

*Still under editing, excuse any mistakes, grammatical errors and spell checks*

Also, some background into on Silk if you guys don’t know:

Got bit by the same Spider as Peter Parker

In her universe there is two spider-people (herself and Spider-Man)

She has enhanced Spidey sense called a Silk-sense

Has organic webbing that shoot through her fingertips

Spider-Man and Y/n work together, they also know each others secret identities

Cindy Moon from Y/n’s universe is dead

Spider-Man and Y/n don’t have any sexual attraction to one another, they’re just real good friends (like how Cindy and Peter are in the comics)

HES SO HOT

I HAVE SO MANY INAPPROPRIATE THINGS TO SAY

I’M FERAL FOR HIM. I WILL BE A MESS AT THE MOVIE THEATHER

I would literally be anything for him idc.

Miguel commission done for @ xochitl on tiktok :3 (my tiktok is @/ treelover5)

The Miguel O’Hara brain rot is strong!! Hmu for commissions if you’d like him doing anything heheh

Rookie Mistake [2]

Summary: In which Poe Dameron is freaking out because he's going on his first date.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, panicky!Poe, brief ReyFinnPoe shenanigans, sprinkle some angst (if you squint), reader being sassy, Poe being cute.

A/N: Co-written with @sofasoap because a lot happens in our DMs and I feel like some of our insanity needs to be evaluated by a professional😂 Thank you so much for the support❤️ I really appreciate it💐💐💐

[Part 1]

Poe doesn’t realize that he’s been rambling for the past five minutes now. He feels sweat on his palms, his heart beats a thousand parsecs a second.

“Tatooine was an absolute nightmare because not only did the mission go south, we had to spend an entire week getting roasted in the Maker-Forsaken heat–”

He doesn’t think he’s said this many words in an entire day. 

He’s nervous. Almost fearful that this date won’t go as planned. That you might hate him and never want anything to do with him.

That wasn’t an option. He couldn’t bear it if you decided you never wanted to see him again.

The soft light of the moon and the stars above illuminate from above, but he lit a few candles just in case. Which worked fine for the aesthetic of a midnight picnic on the cool grass fields far away from the base. 

Finn and Rey were a big help in this entire thing. In fact, they were brutal when it came to shutting down his –now that he thinks about it– ridiculously dumb ideas for a date. There was a lot of bickering involved, but that’s a story for another day.

Finn helped him pick out the food, but Poe was very particular on that topic because he knew some of the things you liked. Sweet wine, fruits, sandwiches, and pastries. Certain flavours you’ve mentioned in past conversations came to him in flashes made him realize just how much he’s been holding onto them. Actually, Poe hangs on to every word you say.

How could he not? He wants to know everything there is about you. He may or may not be a little bit obsessed with you and he’s not very good at hiding it.

But who could blame him? With your stunning beauty and sharp tongue, who, in the entire galaxy, could blame him for being absolutely enamoured by you? Not just that, underneath your deadpan disposition and casual aggression, you have a kindness that most people tend to overlook.

Even though you give him shit for wrecking his ship, you go out of your way to help him fix it. You bring him a cup of caf when he needs it the most. You give him some words of encouragement– very few words, because you know, so he doesn’t think you like him like everyone else does.

You don’t treat him like he’s a god like everyone else does. Like he’s made of pure gold. Like he could do no wrong. You treat him like a soldier. To you, he’s that annoying friend you can’t get rid of but have grown accustomed to having around.

He doesn’t mind it. Your presence takes a lot of pressure off his shoulders. He doesn’t have to be the face of the Resistance. He’s not constantly trying to keep everything afloat. He doesn’t have to worry about what he’s doing wrong and that his actions might cost the lives of many.

He’s just another guy to you. He’s just Poe.

“And then what happened?” you ask before taking a bite out of your sandwich. “While you were spending the week getting roasted by the stifling heat, I mean.”

Poe has to take a moment to breathe because he realizes that he stopped talking. He was staring at you. He hadn’t realize that you were actually paying attention to his ramblings.

“Uh–” he stammered, blushing profusely as he tried to laugh it off with a nervous chuckle. “W–we almost died of thirst if Pava hadn’t found us.”

“Hmm…” you hummed thoughtfully. “She did mention having to bring water for three banthas. I’m assuming you were one of them.”

He burst into laughter which made him fall on his back from his seated position on the dark blue blanket. When he catches the quirk of your lip, he feels a bit of relief that you haven’t chosen to walk out after so much time has passed into the night.

But when he glances behind you, far behind you, and sees the two figures hiding in the bushes, he nearly panics. It’s Rey and Finn, both giving him thumbs up. He wants to believe that he hasn’t fucked up just yet.

He looked up at the sky, leaning on his hands. Their light illuminates the night sky and everything under it. He knows it’s probably past midnight and you both have to be up early.

“It’s getting late.” he muses sadly, still admiring the stars.

“It is…” you reply. 

He doesn’t want this to end just yet. He wants to cling to you a little longer.

Poe glances at you and finds you laying down with your hands clasped right under your chest. He moves closer and lies next to you in the same position. This felt… nice. Peaceful. It’s almost hard to believe that he’s been begging for this chance for so long, he thinks that this might be a dream.

“So…” he sighs, looking at you with a nervous smile. “You don’t hate me, right?”

You are silent for a moment. The deal was that if you don’t hate him by the end of this date, then there’s still a chance for him. A chance for a second date. For more.

Maker, he wants more. If he were given the chance to kiss you right now, he would take it. No hesitation whatsoever. He wants more time. To see you, hear your voice, hear you laugh. Maybe even touch you.

This war has taken so much from him. If you could grant him this one wish, this one chance, then losing might not hurt as much.

“I don’t hate you, Poe.” you say, and your eyes meet his. “Truthfully, I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

Your confession strikes a chord in him. An echo in the back of his mind ringing the truth and nothing but the truth. As he looks at you now, he knows–

I love you.

It takes everything in him not to say it out loud. Poe realizes that he’s known for a while now. Possibly since he stopped fooling around with other people. Hell, possibly since he met you.

“Good to know.” he nods, clearing his throat. “So d–does that mean–”

“Yes, Poe.” He can’t breathe when you move a little closer until your forehead touches his shoulder for a second. You look into his eyes and smile. “You’re getting a second date.”

He cannot, for the life of him, find it in himself to look away from you when you smile at him like that. There is a warmth in his chest that unfurls when he’s around you and he’s so addicted to it. He’s addicted to you.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Don’t push it.” You giggle, shoving his shoulder as you sit back up.

He follows, chuckling sheepishly. “Right. Sorry.”

But you’re still smiling and you kiss his cheek anyway. You don’t seem to mind how eager he is to be around you, to want more, even as you bar his advances. That’s okay. He’s on a date with you and you don’t hate him. That’s all that matters.

“Oh, so I can’t kiss you, but you can kiss me?” he jibes, feigning a glare at you.

“Fuck off, Dameron.” you laugh brightly, playfully shoving him, the sound fluttering butterflies in his stomach. He shakes his head as he watches you. 

He’s going to see you in his dreams again.

Part 3 will come out soon ;)

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Star Wars Masterlist

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 this is awkward..

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r and james speaking is 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝔂 inspired by gilbert confessing that he wants anne so effing bad bc he 𝓯𝔀 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂, lowkey dont hate me for making the “dreams” u want so like…. I just didn't know what to do bc like idk smh i set back women 50 years by that

a/n: tysm for all the love on this series!! y’all are NOT ready for the next chapter, writing it rn and 😭🙏 BUTTT tysm for 300🫶🫶 also I finished the last chapter... do y'all want me to post it today or edge y'all and post it tomorrow

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It was now nearing the end of the school year—even if there was still a month to go. James could now be in the same room as you without glaring daggers at whoever you were talking to. Though he told himself he was over you, he knew deep down that the feelings never faded.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself he was fine. And yet, every time he caught sight of you, every time your laughter reached his ears from across the room, it was as if someone had set fire to his resolve.

He wanted to talk to you so badly it was almost pathetic. But it was like the universe itself was conspiring against him—or, more specifically, like Finn Laurier had developed some sort of sixth sense for James’s intentions.

Because every single time James gathered enough courage, every time he braced himself to walk over to you, Finn would appear out of nowhere. Whether it was in the Great Hall, the library, or even during Quidditch practice, Finn always seemed to materialize by your side at precisely the wrong moment, stealing away your attention and leaving James feeling like the outsider in his own story.

It was infuriating.

“Mate, you’re grinding your teeth,” Sirius remarked casually one afternoon as they sat under the beech tree by the lake.

James startled, realizing with some embarrassment that Sirius was right. He quickly unclenched his jaw and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m just…”

“Just what?” Sirius prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” James lied, though his voice betrayed him.

Sirius gave him a knowing look. “If this is about her again, just—”

“It’s not about her,” James interrupted quickly, though he winced as the words left his mouth. He knew Sirius wouldn’t believe him, and he wasn’t sure he even believed himself anymore.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head. “Prongs, you’re going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up. Just talk to her already.”

“I’ve tried!” James snapped, louder than he intended. He lowered his voice and added, “I’ve tried, but every bloody time, Finn shows up. It’s like he’s got a bloody tracker on her or something.”

Remus, who had been quietly reading nearby, finally chimed in. “You know, maybe you’re overthinking this,” he said, not looking up from his book.

“How could I possibly be overthinking this?” James demanded, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Maybe Finn’s not doing it on purpose,” Remus suggested calmly. “Maybe it’s just bad timing.”

“Bad timing?” James repeated incredulously. “Bad timing doesn’t happen this often, Moony. This is a pattern.”

Remus gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue further.

James leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He hated how much this was bothering him. He hated how much control this entire situation had over him.

But most of all, he hated the thought that you might actually be happy with Finn.

It wasn’t that he thought Finn was a bad guy—quite the opposite, really. Finn was charming, talented, and annoyingly good at everything he did. He was the kind of guy parents adored, the kind of guy professors went out of their way to praise. And worst of all, he was the kind of guy who could make you smile in a way James had only dreamed of.

James opened his eyes, staring up at the branches overhead. “Maybe I should just give up,” he muttered.

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said all day.”

“I’m serious,” James insisted.

“No, I’m Sirius,” Sirius quipped, smirking.

James groaned, throwing a small pebble in his direction. “Not the time for jokes.”

“Fine, fine,” Sirius said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, you’re not giving up. You’re James Potter, remember? Stubborn, arrogant, never-takes-no-for-an-answer James Potter. You don’t give up on things you care about.”

James hesitated, staring at the rippling water of the Black Lake. He wanted to believe Sirius. He wanted to believe that there was still a chance, that you weren’t as far out of reach as you seemed.

But as he watched you across the courtyard later that day, standing beside Finn and laughing at something he said, James couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was too late.

But his doubt soon melted into something far more unsettling when he noticed your gaze shift. For the first time in what felt like forever, your attention wasn’t on Finn Laurier—it was on him.

James felt like he might throw up.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his robes as he quickly looked away. In fact, he didn’t just look away; he turned his entire body in the opposite direction, hoping to mask the flush rising to his cheeks.

“C’mon, James, you’ve got a Quidditch game to win today! Channel all that anger you’ve got towards Laurier into winning us the Cup!” Sirius said, clapping a hand on James’s shoulder with his trademark grin.

James gave a faint nod, trying to let Sirius’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had to admit—focusing on Quidditch might be better than brooding.

As the match began, Sirius’s advice started to help. Flying through the air, the roar of the crowd, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins almost made him forget the mess he was tangled in. Quidditch always had a way of making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter.

Almost.

At first, he wasn’t paying much attention to the game. His mind wandered back to you, back to everything that had gone wrong. He thought about what he would say, how he could even begin to fix things. And, like always, he couldn’t resist scanning the crowd for you.

Even in the middle of a fight, even when he swore to himself that he was done, James always looked for you in the stands.

And he found you—right where he didn’t want to.

You were sitting with Finn Laurier, your hand clasped in his. James’s stomach twisted painfully at the sight, and he forced himself to look away, though the image burned into his mind.

Of course. Finn fucking Laurier.

He sighed, his grip tightening on his broomstick. There was no point in hoping anymore. Whatever chance he’d had—if he’d ever had one—was gone now. Maybe he’d already been downgraded in your life: a friend at best, a stranger at worst. The thought stung, and James shoved it down, refusing to dwell on it any longer.

And then, something golden caught the corner of his eye.

The Snitch.

For the first time all game, James’s focus snapped into place. He leaned forward on his broom, his heart pounding—not from heartbreak this time, but from the sheer rush of competition. If nothing else, he could still win this. He could still bring home the Cup.

James shot after the Snitch with everything he had, the rush of wind against his face only fueling his determination. The crowd roared, but their voices blurred into the background. His world narrowed to one thing: the golden glimmer darting just ahead.

The Hufflepuff Seeker was hot on his trail, but James barely registered them. This was his moment. The Snitch veered sharply to the right, and James followed, his reflexes razor-sharp. He could feel the weight of his emotions—anger, heartbreak, frustration—all pouring into this chase.

The Snitch dipped low, skimming just above the grass, and James dove after it, his fingers outstretched. The Hufflepuff Seeker was closing in fast, but James didn’t care. He pushed his broom harder, faster, his body leaning forward so much it felt like he might fall off.

And then, his fingers closed around the Snitch.

The Gryffindor stands erupted into cheers, deafening and jubilant. The sound echoed across the pitch as James pulled up, the Snitch held high in triumph. For the first time all week, a genuine smile broke across his face.

He’d done it.

Back on the ground, his teammates swarmed him, yelling and celebrating as they lifted him off the ground in a flurry of hugs and pats on the back. Sirius was the loudest, of course, laughing as he shouted, “That’s my best mate! Did you see that dive? Bloody brilliant!”

James grinned, allowing himself to soak in the moment. But as the initial adrenaline rush faded, his thoughts drifted back to you.

Through the crowd, he spotted you walking toward the castle with Laurier. You looked happy—laughing at something Finn said, your hand still in his.

James’s chest tightened, the pain creeping back in.

Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders. “Oi, don’t let that git ruin your moment. You just won us the Cup, Prongs. Focus on that, yeah?”

James forced a nod, plastering a smile on his face. “Yeah. You’re right.”

But deep down, as the team carried him back to the common room, the ache lingered. Winning the match had been a distraction, but it wasn’t enough to erase what he felt for you—or the sting of seeing you with someone else.

Still, James promised himself one thing: he’d get through this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. And who knew? Maybe, someday, you’d see him the way he saw you.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

The Gryffindor common room was a chaotic blur of red and gold, filled with triumphant cheers and laughter. The moment the team returned from the pitch, the party was already in full swing. Someone had charmed a banner to flash "Gryffindor Wins the Cup!" in shimmering letters, and butterbeer bottles floated around the room, courtesy of a cheeky charm from Sirius.

James stood in the center of it all, grinning as his teammates and housemates patted him on the back and congratulated him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to bask in the glory of the victory, letting it drown out the knot in his chest. He’d won the game, and Gryffindor had the Cup—he deserved to enjoy it.

“Prongs!” Sirius yelled over the noise, shoving a butterbeer into his hand. “You’re the man of the hour! You better milk this for all it’s worth, because Merlin knows you deserve it.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let me hear you say that too often, Padfoot. I might start believing it.”

Sirius gave him a devilish grin. “Oh, you will. Now, c’mon, let’s make some noise!” He climbed onto a table, raising his bottle high. “To Prongs, our Quidditch hero!”

The room erupted in cheers, and James couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of his butterbeer as the noise washed over him. For the first time all day, he felt lighter.

As the party went on, James moved through the crowd, chatting and laughing with his housemates. But no matter how loud the celebration got, his eyes kept drifting to the door, half-hoping, half-dreading to see you walk in.

And then, you did.

James froze mid-conversation, his heart doing that familiar stutter-step it always did when he saw you. You looked radiant, wrapped in Gryffindor colors, your cheeks flushed from the cold. But his chest tightened when he noticed Laurier trailing behind you, his hand resting casually on the small of your back.

James quickly turned back to his conversation, forcing a smile and pretending not to notice. He wasn’t going to let Finn Laurier—or his own stupid feelings—ruin the night.

“Oi, Prongs,” Sirius said, appearing at his side again. “Stop moping and do something fun. We just won the bloody Cup, mate! At least pretend you’re having the time of your life.”

James forced another grin. “I am having fun, Padfoot. Loads of fun.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You’re staring at her again, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” James lied, taking a long sip of butterbeer.

Sirius groaned, grabbing James by the shoulders. “Look, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stop torturing yourself, and you’re going to have a bloody fantastic time tonight. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll prank Laurier so hard he won’t know which way is up. Deal?”

James couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “Alright, deal.”

Hours later, the party was still going strong. Someone had turned the music up, and the common room had transformed into a dance floor. James found himself dragged into the middle of it by Lily Evans, who gave him a pointed look.

“Stop sulking, Potter,” she said, smirking. “You just won the Cup. Act like it.”

“I’m not sulking,” James said, though his half-hearted smile gave him away.

Lily raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she tugged him into the rhythm of the music, and for a while, James let himself get lost in the moment.

It wasn’t until he caught sight of you again, laughing at something Laurier said, that the knot in his chest returned. He took a deep breath, plastered on another smile, and decided that, for tonight, he’d keep pretending.

He watched you from across the room as you and Laurier continued talking, laughter bubbling between you two. He could see the way you looked at him now—so different from the way you looked at him before. It was like there was a barrier, a wall that hadn’t been there when he first met you.

“Prongs,” Sirius appeared at his side again, his voice low and concerned. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but this is ridiculous. You’re letting Laurier ruin your night—and you just won us the Cup, for Merlin’s sake. You’re allowed to be happy tonight. So go talk to her. If you don’t, I swear I’ll do it for you.”

James frowned at him, irritated. “I’m not talking to her, Pads. Not now.”

“Then at least get out of here and enjoy yourself,” Sirius pressed. “We’re celebrating, mate. You’ve earned it.”

James looked over at you one more time, and for a second, he almost gave in. But the knot in his chest was still there, tightly wound, and it made everything feel so much harder than it should’ve been.

But maybe... maybe he could find a way to feel better. Maybe he could lose himself in the celebration.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally muttered, glancing at his friends.

Sirius didn’t seem convinced but let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, but I’m not letting you go off and brood in some corner. The whole bloody school’s celebrating with you tonight.”

James smirked faintly, feeling a little lighter. Maybe he could pretend to be okay, at least for tonight. He could let the victory, the laughter, and his friends drown out the ache for just a little while longer.

But as the night continued, and as the music played on, James found himself once again looking toward the doorway, hoping—just hoping—that you’d look his way.

For the first time in forever, the world was finally on his side as he saw you quickly leaving Finn and walking straight to him.

“May I speak to you, please?” James nodded, Dumbfounded. 

You quickly grabbed his hand and went outside the common room and into the corridors. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers twisting nervously. “James… I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

James’s throat went dry, his pulse quickening as he struggled to find his voice. “Yeah?”

You nodded, glancing down at your hands before meeting his gaze. “I—I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what he had expected. Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his head, an apology hadn’t been one of them.

“For what?” he asked, genuine confusion coloring his voice.

“For everything,” you said in a rush, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “For avoiding you. I was confused—about what I did that made you ignore me. And I guess I wanted to get back at you for ignoring me, so I decided to do the same to you. And… I’m sorry for whatever happened between us that made things so weird.”

James stared at you, your vulnerability hitting him like a Bludger to the chest. His heart ached at the uncertainty in your voice.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said quickly, shaking his head.

“Yes, I do,” you insisted, your voice firm despite the tears welling in your eyes.

“No, you don’t,” James countered, his tone soft yet resolute. “It’s not fair to put all of this on yourself. You’ve always been there for me, and I—well, I’ve been a terrible friend lately. I was practically acting like you didn’t exist.”

James faltered when he saw the blank expression on your face. Panic flickered in his chest—had he said too much?

But before he could say anything more, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

“Oh, James,” you murmured into his shoulder. “It’s okay. I—I was acting like you didn’t exist too, but only because you were doing it to me.”

He blinked, caught off guard, before slowly relaxing into the hug. He looked down at you, his hand instinctively reaching up to brush away a stray tear trailing down your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You shook your head, a small, watery smile breaking through. “We’re both sorry. Let’s just… not do this anymore, okay?”

James nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Deal.”

“It feels so much better having my best friend around again.” James’ smile faltered again, he never liked the word “best friend” when it came to you, he always wanted more.

“Definitely”

You two let each other talk for what felt like hours even though it was barely fifteen minutes. He enjoyed every second though, until you brought up Finn and future plans they may include him. He couldn't believe it, when had your parents met his? He remembers your dad telling him how much he was rooting you and him to be together, now he's okay with you dating some other dude? And worst of all, your father was okay with that same dude wanting to marry his daughter? James felt like throwing up.

“Then he said that my father laid it out on a silver platter.”

“Laid... what out on a platter?”

“My future! Gave him the blessing to...to propose. I don't know what to do.”

“You told me you don’t mind being married straight after Hogwarts if you truly loved the man. That being a wife and mother... is your dream. Finn is.. nice, and both of your guys’ parents are supportive. I don't understand. What's holding you back?”

“Just… one thing.”

“What am I supposed to do? Everyone else is just... moving on, and now you’re... and I’m still... We never even... And he’s there, and you’re—Merlin, you’re never going to find someone who—” James stopped, his voice cracking. “I know that much, so how... how am I supposed to... I can’t... I— We...”

Before you could speak–a drunk Sirius somehow found you two. “Woah James you're really speaking to her? Atta boy, now, let's get back to the party, cmon, we are going to do something cool, have you heard of ....” Sirius rambled on, tugging on James’ arm to drag him back to the party.

“I’ll be off, then.” You said, voice quivering as if hesitant to leave.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

All James could think about was the previous night—the talk you two had shared. Your words, your voice, the hesitation in your eyes—it all replayed in his mind like a haunting melody. What would’ve happened if Sirius hadn’t barged in, if James had told him to leave, if he’d been brave enough to stay in that moment with you?

“I think…” James began, his voice breaking as he paced the Gryffindor dormitory, “I think she might’ve been asking if I love her. And—and I think I told her to marry someone else.”

Sirius, slouched in the chair by the window, looked stricken. “Mate…” he started, his tone heavy with guilt. “If I’d known—if I knew what was happening—I wouldn’t have gone looking for you. I—I practically ruined your chances. Merlin, I’m so, so sorry.”

James stopped pacing, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if she meant it. She said so much without really saying anything, and now I don’t know if I imagined it all.”

“‘Sure, take option two,’ when option one is all she wants for her future?” James muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

“What is option one?” Peter asked, his curiosity breaking the tension.

James scoffed, bitterness creeping into his tone. “It’s Finn, obviously.” He paused, his anger flaring. “But both their parents support it, and she told me that! Before she spilled all of that on me, we were talking and laughing like nothing was wrong. But now…” He exhaled sharply, his voice softening as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Now it feels like I’m being asked to explain the rest of my life on a bloody ticking clock. And if I make the wrong decision, I’ve either ruined my life—or hers.”

The room fell silent. Sirius and Peter exchanged uneasy glances, while Remus seemed lost in thought, unsure of how to respond.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Meanwhile, you had confided in your mother about your plans the night before: to finally tell the man you truly loved how you felt. You hadn’t wanted to bring it up while you and James were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, but you knew if you didn’t seize the moment, you’d never say it at all.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to turn you down. To tell you—calmly, almost dismissively—that you should marry Finn.

Your mother was waiting for your response. You knew she expected good news, a letter confirming that you and James were finally together. Instead, you sat at your desk, penning words that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Dear Mother,

I did what you told me to do, but I fear I shouldn’t have. We were talking just fine, and then I told him everything. I told him how I felt. And he told me to marry Finn.

Finn is lovely, yes—but he’s not James. I asked James if there was any chance for us, and he said no. At least now I have clarity on where I stand with him. And I know it sounds awful to compare Finn to James, but... maybe knowing what I know now, I can learn to be happy with Finn. Father and Finn’s family are all thrilled, after all. I don’t even want to think about what I would’ve done if James had said he felt the same.

You sighed, folding the parchment carefully and sealing it in an envelope. The weight of your words sat heavily on your chest, but you couldn’t dwell on them any longer. You needed to send this letter immediately.

Pulling on your cloak, you found yourself heading for one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade—the ones you and James had used so often. The memories stung, but you pushed them aside. This time, you’d be using the passage alone.

The quickest way to deliver your letter was through the owlery. You knew exactly which owl was the fastest.

As you walked, you let your mind wander to James one last time, allowing yourself the quiet ache of what could’ve been. You would never speak to him again, not like before. That part of your life was over.

Finn was your future now. And while it hurt to admit, deep down, you knew it was for the best.

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