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Our Little Secret
Summary - Joel Miller deals with disgusting, intrusive thoughts about the girl next door who smells like vanilla and uses cherry chapstick.
Pairing - dbf!Joel Miller/Reader
Warnings - explicit sexual content MDNI, kinda perv!Joel, age gap, no cordyceps outbreak AU, reader's in high school but is eighteen, dom/sub undertones, seduction, underage drinking, body worship, unprotected sex, reader is called 'jailbaitâ by Tommy, oral sex, breeding kink if you squint, praise & degradation
WC: 11k
[crossposted to AO3]
Joel Miller told himself he wasnât a pervert. He just wasnât. Double glancing at a pretty, young girl didnât make him one of those guys â it just made him a man, right?
Never mind the fact that your father was one of his closest friends or the fact that you lived just next door, embodying half of the very typical scandalous, small-town affair. Never mind your eighteen year age difference. Never mind those obscene images that sometimes invaded his brain. Joel had heard the term once. He thinks Sarah might have told him about it from that science documentary she watchedâthose sordid images were called intrusive thoughts, right? Involuntary, unavoidable, unwanted.
It wasnât only him who stared in your direction a little longer than necessary, anyway. The very first time heâd seen you, Joel and Tommy had been in the driveway doing an oil change on the truck. You and your dad had just moved in, Joel had introduced himself the day prior and helped haul a bed frame through the front room. Your dad had mentioned he had a daughter, but Joel had expected to see a girl closer to Sarahâs age.Â
He hadnât expected to see you, wearing those tight blue jeans and that tiny tank top that left very little to the imagination. The straps were thin and the fabric billowy, and when you shifted the box beneath your arm from one hand to the other, the pretty pink fabric of your bra was out in the open for all eyes to see. Your hair had been pulled into a ponytail at the crown of your head, swishing back and forth with each step. It made Joel wonder about how soft the long strands were, how they would feel between his fingers, how they would look splayed out atop a pillowcase â intrusive thoughts.
Tommy was quick to abandon his tools and cross the front yard to greet your father, offering you what seemed like an innocent helping hand. Joel thinks his younger brother has no self control, but he leaves the truck too. Only to introduce himself, though. Definitely not to get a closer look.Â
Your voice is sweet, he thinks. It slides through him like a hot knife through butter. And when you laugh at Tommyâs awkward attempt at conversation, that sound stabs him in the chest because itâs so girlish. So young and youthful and airy. That pink lace is still poking out of the side of your shirt, even though Tommy now carries the box, and Joel strains himself trying to keep his eyes above your chin.Â
âAnd you must be Mr. Miller,â you say, sticking your tiny hand out to him.
He knows itâs a bad idea, but he doesnât want to be rude, so he takes your hand in his and shakes it gently. Your skin is soft, nails painted red and manicured and he wonders what other parts of you are this soft, wonders if red has always been his favorite color, wonders what it would look like wrapped around â âJust Joel,â he tells you, clearing those damn intrusive thoughts as quickly as they appear.Â
âJoel,â you repeat, tasting his name on your pink tongue and giving him a sweet smile. âThere's two more boxes. Wanna help me grab them?â
Heâs careful not to answer too fast, afraid of sounding too eager. But he agrees, and you lead him to the open truck bed, and as you bend over to grab the smaller box his hands flex at his sides. He thinks you must be doing this on purpose. Right? Torturing him, sticking your ass out, silently begging him to look. But he doesn't. Instead, Joel picks up the larger box and notices the scent of vanilla radiating off your skin. This is almost worse because his mouth begins to water.Â
âMy dad said you have a daughter,â you say.Â
âYeah. Sarah. Sheâs younger than you, though.â
âThatâs okay. Does she like cake? I have to bake one for my home ec final and could use a taste tester if sheâs not busy.â
It really puts things into perspective, and heâs glad for it. Finals. School. High school. âIâll ask her,â Joel says.Â
You lead everyone inside and direct all three men to take the boxes to the living room where you begin unpacking. You sit on the floor as you sift through the boxes, legs tucked underneath you, and Joel has to force a smile when you look up at him through your lashes. You say thank you, Joel from your knees and he feels something very, very wrong stir inside him.Â
Tommy follows him back outside, and on the way back to their truck his voice is high pitched in mockery as he says, âThank you, Joel! Youâre so handsome , Joel! Let me repay you with my body, Joel!â
He just laughs it off, but as he continues with the oil change beneath the hood an uncomfortable silence settles between him.Â
Eventually, Tommy shakes his head and snorts. âThat girl is nothing but fucking jailbait, man.â
He sees you quite a few times after that, because your dad works in construction, too. Joel drinks the same kind of beer, and your dad has a pool table in your garageâŠso, naturally, they become the best of friends and very quickly at that. Tommy joins the party too, and within months they become an inseparable trio.
Itâs during one of these nights when the three of them were standing in the garage with the door wide open, music playing from the speakers in your dadâs truck when those intrusive thoughts plague him again. Tommyâs losing at pool, drunk before the sunâs fully set, and your dad is laughing at something heâs saying.
Youâre walking home from practice and stop suddenly at the end of the driveway. Joel can see you, but he doesnât think Tommy or your dad can. The truck is in the way, but heâs in the perfect position. He stares a little too long, but he canât help it. Youâre wearing your cheer uniform, and your midriff is exposed, and your long legs are so fucking appetizing that his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. Your skirt is rolled up at the waist, making the fabric shorter than itâs supposed to be, making it sluttier than itâs supposed to be.
When you notice him staring, you shoot him a sinful little smile and raise your finger to your lips. A secret, Joel realizes. You want him to keep something a secret, and somehow it feels intimate, having something between the two of you. He watches you unroll the hem of your skirt and pull at the ends so it covers more of your legs. You turn in a semicircle, and he licks his lips, and when you look at him again you raise your hands in question.Â
He gives you a discreet thumbs up, and when you make your way up the driveway you give him the prettiest smile and say, âHey, Joel! Nice to see you!â
Tommy gives him shit for it later, but heâs too distracted at the sight of you in that uniform to even remember Joel exists.Â
âYouâre late,â your dad chastises. âPractice was over at five today. Itâs almost six.â
âTook the scenic route,â you reply easily, and Joel can hear the playful tone in your voice that lets everyone in the room know of your insincerity.Â
You walk past them, backpack slung over one arm, but before you disappear inside you wink at him over your shoulder.Â
âGet ready, Joel,â your dad tells him with an exasperated sigh. âTeenage girls are hell.â
And Joel is inclined to agree. Even more so when heâs laying in bed that night, wondering about all the things you couldâve been getting up to in that hour it took you to get home. The school was a short, ten minute walk from your house. And even if you truly did take the scenic route home, it wouldnât have taken you an entire hour to arrive.Â
So, what were you getting up to? Joel didnât think you had a boyfriend. At least, not one you ever brought home. But not having a boyfriend didnât mean anything. Not in this day and age. And Joel knew the mind of a teenage boy. He had been one, once upon a time, and knew without a doubt the lengths a boy your age would go to spend an hour alone with you. He thought about all of the things he was doing at eighteen, and his brain ran wild with those ideas.
After hours of laying there, unable to find sleep, Joel Miller took out his phone and opened a private search tab. It had been a long time since heâd done this, and heâd tried not to â truly, he had spent every minute since heâd closed his bedroom door trying to get the images out of his head. But it was like an itch he needed to scratch, becoming more and more irritating the longer he put it off. So, he typed cheerleader into the black and orange search bar and promised himself it was the one and only time heâd ever do this.Â
He just needed to get it out of his system. That was all.
(If he was honest, Joel knew as soon as the thought crossed his mind that it wasnât true. Even when he scrolled through the videos to find a girl who looked strikingly similar to you. Even when he turned his volume all the way down, and reached into his sweatpants with his free hand. Even when he squeezed his eyes shut and thought of that rolled up skirt and that pretty pink lace, pornographic images long forgotten in favor of the ones youâd supplied. Even when a few quick tugs was all it took to shoot thick ropes of cum across his belly. Even when he cleared his search history, cleaned himself up, and rolled over to sleepâŠeven then, he knew it would not be enough to get you out of his head.)
The next day, Joel saw you leaving for school and couldnât bear to look in your eyes. He couldnât stop thinking about what heâd done and feeling shameful, feeling like the very sordid man he knew himself not to be. He wasnât a pervert, but heâd certainly felt like one that day.
You waved your hand and beamed like you did every morning. But Joel didnât wave back. Oblivious to his atrocities, you played your hand at concern. âYou okay?â
âFine.â
âYou donâtâŠÂ seem fine. Is there anything I can do to help?â
Godâyour voice, full of kindness and sweet summery grace, was better than the audio in any porno heâd ever seen. âI said Iâm fine.â
Thankfully, you took the hint and scurried off, not dissimilar to a wounded animal. Guilt immediately choked him. But, pushing you away is what heâs supposed to do. So he doesnât change his mind.Â
At least, not at first.
He spends the entire summer going out of his way to avoid you. He offered to host guys nights at his house on the weekends instead of your dad's garage. He left for work five minutes earlier than normal to avoid having to hear you say good morning, Joel! and wave at him with those pretty red nails and smile at him with your pretty white teeth.
But once summer starts, you and Sarah begin spending way too much time together. And at first, it makes him nervous. You make him nervous. He doesnât want to make small talk. He doesn't want to see you in your uniform. He doesnât want to look at you at all, actually.
It works out in his favor though, Joel thinks, because you and Sarah have the same taste in movies, and she thinks you're the coolest thing thatâs ever existed, and so whenever Joel and Tommy are in your garage, youâre at Joelâs house with Sarah. So he doesnât have to be on edge, wondering if heâd turn the corner and youâd be standing there smelling like vanilla and wearing pink lace.Â
But then youâre hosting a high school graduation party a few short months after you move in. And your dad invites Joel and Tommy to the party in your backyard. In fact, he practically begs them to come and keep him company. And Joel canât say no, because what excuse would he have? Sarah would never let him skip it, anyway. And so his avoidance comes to an end, and he finds himself standing in your backyard with a glass bottle in his hands, watching people congratulate you and your accomplishments all day long. Straight Aâs in all those AP classes you took, your dad tells him proudly, clicking his tongs together over the grill. Joel knows youâre a smart girl, he doesnât need to know your grades to see that you have your head on straight, but he also knows youâre a far cry from the timid little girl your father believes you to be. Joel can see it in you.Â
Still, youâre far smarter than he is, because while Tommy drones on and on about a project heâs got going on at home, all Joel can notice is the pretty sundress youâre wearing. Itâs pink, like the lace that sometimes still haunts him. It clings to you at the top, molding sinfully against your chest, and flows out at the bottom, cutting off at your midthigh.
Itâs too short, Joel thinks. Way too short to be wearing around so many male classmates. Around your dadâs friends. Tommy likes younger girls, you know. And JoelâŠJoelâs turning away from you and swallowing whatâs left of his beer. He clinks the empty glass against Tommyâs and asks, âYou need another?â
Your dad is the one who answers. âHow about a shot of whiskey? The cabinet above the sink.â
Joel thinks it's a fantastic idea. He gets stopped by Mr. Adler on the way inside, who asks what the celebration is. He talks for far longer than heâd like, and by the time he gets to the kitchen, Joel really needs something stronger than beer.Â
Except, when he steps into the room, he freezes the moment he sees you standing there. Your head whips in his direction, eyes wide as if youâve been caught. Itâs only as he tears his attention away from you and notices the two red solo cups on the counter and the bottle of tequila in your hands, perched over them, that he realizes what heâd just walked in on.Â
Your cheeks are pink, the same hue as your dress, and you quickly try to explain it away. âJoel! Hey! This isnâtâŠIâm not likeâyou know, itâs just a celebration andâŠIâll be nineteen soon andâI mean, itâs just a little .â
He raises his eyebrows, unsure of how to navigate this terrain. On the one hand, he feels the need to discipline you somehow. To turn this into a lesson of sorts, to let you know how the age of legal alcohol consumption is twenty one for a reason, that being drunk in a social setting like this is dangerous, especially for a girl like you.
But on the other hand, Joel knows heâs not responsible for you. Heâs not your father, and heâs not going to be the one to give you the speech about underage drinking. Heâd been far younger than eighteen-almost-nineteen the first time heâd gotten drunk. And you were rightâŠthis was a celebration.Â
The war in his brain seemed to dim what little common sense he had because Joel found himself standing behind you with almost no room to spare. The sweet scent of vanilla filled the space. Youâd curled your hair, and the ends tickled the inside of his arm. Soft. So, so soft he could die. He puts his big hand on your bare shoulder, and reaches above you into the cabinet, finding the half empty bottle of whiskey. His fingers twitch with the urge to squeeze your supple flesh. Christ. Itâs just a fucking shoulder, Joel, he tells himself. âItâs your party,â he says. âI wonât tell.â
It feels wrong just to say it to you. I wonât tell. Perverted thing to say, Joel thinks. You spin around to face him, and suddenly your breasts are brushing his chest, and Joel canât breathe. âThank you,â you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and sending him into his fucking grave.Â
Itâs then, as he stares down at you and you stare up at him all sweet and innocent-like, that Joel finally admits to himself that avoidance has done absolutely fucking nothing to put out the fire you started. He clears his throat. âYeah, yeahâitâs, uhmâŠitâs no problem. Have fun.â
He turns to leave, but then your arms are around his neck and he canât smell anything but vanilla and he can feel your tits pressing into him, can feel you everywhere. But Joel isnât a mean man, so what can he do but hug you back? If someone walked in, theyâd think it was a fatherly embrace. Proud. Protective, even.Â
But they wouldnât know that all Joel could think about is the way your skin felt under his calloused hands. Or the way your soft hair tickled his cheek as he laid it against the top of your head. Or the way your hips were nestled right between his thighsâand you were so warm andâ
Intrusive thoughts.
âYouâre the best, Joel,â you say, eyes bright and cheery. Heâs relieved when you pull away, but also a little bit empty. He watches you pour a shot into each red solo cup. âYou know, Iâve never tried whiskey. It seems so, likeâŠÂ manly .â You giggle, and itâs music to his ears but Joel begins to wonder if maybe this isnât your first time stealing from the tequila bottle tonight.Â
âItâs definitely not the best tasting thing in the world,â he says. âGets the job done, though.â
To put the tequila away, you have to stand on the tips of your toes. It elongates your entire body as you stretch upwards, and he canât bring himself to stop staring at the curve of your hips. âYou have to be drunk to hang out with me or something?â
The question surprises him. Yes, he thinks. Yes, he does need to be inebriated to hang out with you because otherwise his sober mind never lets him forget the way you look all dolled up. But he doesnât say that. Instead, Joel laughs quietly and says, âIâm here for your old man. You think he wants to be the lone adult in this sea of kids?â
He says it as a joke and is thankful you find humor in it. âIâm not a kid, Joel,â you remind him. âIâm a woman now. Is my company really so bad?â You tilt your head, pushing your bottom lip into the tiniest little pout.Â
Joel needs to stop staring at your mouth. He knows it, because the urge rises in him to bite that lip, to surge forward and taste your tongue for remnants of tequila. The idea alone sends a bolt of white-hot desire straight to his dick. âNo, noâŠsânot like that,â he says. Heâs too focused on your face and the gleam in your pretty eyes to notice youâve unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle.Â
You pour a shot into an empty solo cup and hold it up between the two of you. âIâm scared,â you admit sheepishly. âIs it gross?â
The wrinkle in your nose is the cutest thing heâs ever seen, and the sight forces his lips into a small smile. âI donât think so,â he says. âBut you might.â
âBecause Iâm a kid ?â You scoff, but shake your head and smile at him all the same. âWomen mature faster than men, you know. Which means when I make my decisions, I know what Iâm signing myself up for.âÂ
âOh, is that so?â He remembers being this cocky as a teenager. He thinks maybe youâve been spending too much time around Tommy and his defiant attitude is rubbing off on you. Joel offers a challengeâif youâre just so mature. âDrink up, then.â
He watches every microscopic movement as you lick your lips and lift the cup to your mouth. Itâs a beautiful sight, watching you tilt your head back and swallow the tiniest bit. And when you pass the remaining liquid to him, your expression is fashioned from steel. Nonchalant, blank.Â
But he sees it, sees the way your hands twitch at your sides, sees the way your jaw feathers as you clench your teeth. He canât help but chuckle at your persistence. Joel turns the cup in his hands and puts his mouth right where you did.Â
Itâs almost like kissing, he thinks. Having his mouth where yours was seconds ago feels good. Better than he thought it would. And he can taste cherry-flavored chapstick before he can taste the whiskey, and he wonders when the last time was when heâd had a shot because it goes straight to his head and makes him feel drunk. Or maybe itâs just the wide smile that stretches across your face.Â
âThatâs awful,â you confess. âIâll stick to tequila, I think.â
âTequilaâs worse,â he says with a shake of his head. Tequila makes Joel feel your age, makes him forget the word consequences, makes him buzz with energy.Â
âNo way,â you say. âThe taste isnât nearly as strong.â
While that may be true, it wasnât about the taste at all and he doesnât really know how to explain it. âTequila encourages people to make bad decisions.â
Your eyes widen in surprise. âBad decisions,â you echo contemplatively. âSounds like a great time.â You take both of your tequila filled cups in hand and press a kiss to his cheek. âThanks for always keeping my secrets,â you whisper.Â
Joel has to stand in the kitchen an extra few minutes after you leave because he still feels the ghost of your lips on his skin and doesnât know how to act. Eventually, though, he finds the courage to face his brother and your father. He stays for the remainder of the party and helps your dad clean up the yard after everyone filters out.Â
Itâs a relief when heâs finally in his own bed that night. He tries to resist thinking of you. Truly, he does â but itâs no use, and heâs alone in his bed, and this time he doesnât even reach for his phone when he touches himself.Â
And itâs good. So good that he tries to draw it out. He tries his damndest to make it last. But his efforts become futile in just minutes, because he can feel your soft lips, can taste cherry chapstick, and heâs right thereâright fucking thereâwhen his bedroom door creaks open.Â
âJoel?â
For a second, heâs convinced himself heâs gone crazy. Heâs well and truly lost it now, and his fantasies have grown into hallucinations at this point. Youâve driven him batshit insane. But his eyes focus in the dark, and he realizes his mind isnât playing tricks on him at all. âWhat are you doing here?â
You take it as an invitation, and he desperately wishes you wouldnât. He can still feel the buzz from the beer and whiskey, and his cock is hard beneath the sheets, and his brain is filled with images of you, and youâre in nothing but spandex shorts and a loose tank top, and when you sit on the side of his bed you lay your hand on his knee for balance and Joelâs hands shake.Â
âHow did you even get in?â
âI used the key under the mat,â you confess. âI need your help.â Your voice is so mousy and soft, and it pulls him back to his senses.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â
âYou were right,â you tell him. âI made a bad tequila decision and now Iâm sad.âÂ
Joel doesnât know what to say. You couldnât possibly still be tipsy, he thinks. Itâs been hours since he saw you in the kitchen, but he supposes you very well couldâve gone back after everyone left. Either way, youâd come to him to fix it, and even knowing the right thing would be to call your dad, he was still high on the second secret you two shared. So, Joel sighs and puts his hand on yours. âWhat did you do?â
âI snuck a boy into my room,â you say.
Joelâs jaw clenches. Anger rises in his chest, crawls up his throat, and chokes him. A million things cross his mindâfirst, what the hell did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Joel would find the boy and break his fucking jaw. Did he touch you? Maybe heâd break the boy's hands instead. Or, worse, did he touch you when you didnât want him to? The thought alone has his heart beating so fast he thinks he might die. Slowly, quietly, he asks, âWhat happened?â
âNothing,â you sigh. And it isnât one of those teenage girl nothings, itâs sincere. You climb over him to the other side of the mattress, and Joel thinks he should stop you but the sight of you in his bed is so fucking pretty that he canât bring himself to. âThatâs the problem. I wanted him to fuck me.â
The words give him pause. Everything freezes.Â
âBut he didnât want to,â you say. âEven though we were flirting all day.â You turn on your side, hands beneath your head. âI donât get it. Is it because Iâm not pretty?â
He canât stop the snort that leaves him at that. Joel canât believe youâd wonder about it for even a second.
âDo you think Iâm pretty, Joel?â
If thereâs anything in the world he hates, itâs this. He wonders a little if maybe youâre antagonizing him. Itâs a yes or no question, isnât it? So why does saying yes feel soâŠÂ heavy? Weighted? He decides it best to keep the conversation directed away from his personal opinion on the matter. âOf course youâre pretty, baby.â
Baby? God. Maybe he has lost his fucking mind.
But it seems to bring you so much joy he doesnât have it in him to regret it. You wrap your small hands around his bicep, and he can feel the heat in your touch, and itâs like heâs burning from the inside out. And when you turn a little more and bring your leg across his hips, Joel canât breathe.Â
He wonders if you can tell how hard he is, wonders how heâs supposed to push you away when you just keep withering away his resolve. If he hasnât lost his mind yet, heâs about to. âIs it okay if I sleep with you tonight?â
The words hit him like a freight train. But after a second, he realizes that you actually mean sleep âand he knows itâs a bad idea still because heâs having those intrusive thoughts once more. But he canât say no. So instead he says, âI donât think your dad would be comfortable with that.â
âIâll tell him I had a sleepover with Sarah,â you quickly supplied. âI donât want to be alone.â
He doesnât either. But Joel knows he should be. And if not alone, certainly not with you. And yet, he says nothing. Not yes or no, just nothing.Â
âCan I tell you a secret?â
âSure.â
âI think about you all the time,â you say. âI thought you were mad at me for a while. That made me sad, too.â
It made his chest ache to think he had caused you any harm. But it was for the best, wasnât it? You probably just saw him as someone to seek comfort in, and he saw you as something entirely different. He was no good. Definitely not for you.Â
A few minutes pass, and he thinks youâve fallen asleep, but then you kiss his cheek again in the same spot as this afternoon and say, âThank you, Joel.â And he feels so wrong. He feels awful, and selfish, and greedy, and desperate, and perverted.
He thinks thatâs the end of it. But then you kiss his jaw, and this time itâs an open mouthed kiss that leaves wetness on his skin. Joel shivers.Â
You kiss his neck, and his cock throbs inches from your thigh. He should stop this. He knows that. Joel isnât a stupid manâheâs just a bad man. He doesnât stop you when you climb into his lap. He doesnât stop you when your tongue darts out between your lips as you kiss his collarbone. He doesnât stop you when your kisses grow heated and heavy.
And when you kiss his lips, he doesnât stop himself from kissing you back. He doesnât stop himself from threading his fingers through your silky hair to pull you in deeper. He doesnât stop himself from biting that bottom lip and sucking off the cherry flavor. He doesnât stop himself from slipping his tongue into your mouth, or from lifting his hips just a little bit, pushing himself against you. The friction pulls a low groan from somewhere in the back of his throat, and Joel knows he won't be able to ever stop himself now.Â
You take the small movement as your cue to unleash yourself and roll your hips against his even harder. He can feel the wet heat radiating from you even through the spandex shorts, can feel his benevolence fading into the ether. You let out a breathless moan when you roll your hips again, and again, and again. And he curses, muscles tight, and feels a confession on the tip of his tongue. Joel wants you to say it, just once â wants to hear his name in your mouth shrouded in lust. Heâs imagined it so many times, but he wants to hear it.Â
But then you pull away abruptly. âJoel?â
You sound mousy again, and he feels suddenly ice cold. âYeah?â
âI think Iâm gonna be sick.â
He holds your hair away from your face for the remainder of the night as you vomit up the rest of the tequila in your stomach. You apologize over and over again and greedily drink up the water he brings you.Â
Normally, Joel would hate this. But itâs you, and something feels good about taking care of you. About making sure youâre safe, making sure you feel pretty even with sweat coating your pallid skin.
You fall asleep sometime in the middle of the night, and Joel carries you to his bed. He doesnât climb in next to you. He canât because he already feels bad enough for allowing a drunk eighteen year old girl into his bed. Itâs his turn to feel nauseous. Shame smothers him, and guilt, and mortificationâŠJoel knows he should feel regret, too. But he doesnât.Â
Sometime before sunrise, he nods off with his head resting against the bedside table. He doesnât hear you leave, but when he wakes an hour later youâve vacated the room.Â
He wonders if you remember how you ended up in his bed, if you remember how eager he was to taste your mouth, if you remember anything at all. He hopes not, because that would mean a conversation he was not equipped to handle.Â
When he trudges down to the kitchen, Joel stops upon the sight before him. Sarah sits at the kitchen table beside Tommy, whoâs sitting across from your dad. And then thereâs youâstanding in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand and two still-wet braids in your hair.
It isnât the fact that youâre in his kitchen, making pancakes for everyone, padding barefoot on the tile that makes him anxious. No one in the room can read his thoughts. They wouldnât know how much it pleases him to see it. They wouldnât know how he thinks he could get used to this, but knows he canât.
NoâŠno, itâs the fact that youâre wearing his flannel that makes him anxious. Your father wears flannels on occasionâŠbut this one is so plainly Joelâs that he wonders why your dad is sitting there laughing at something Sarah said instead of killing Joel with his bare hands. He swallows thickly and pours himself a cup of coffee.Â
âGood morning,â you say cheerily, as if last night hadnât happened. He thinks youâve forgotten, or maybe just decided not to ever mention it again.
It was only a lapse in judgment, after all, wasnât it? Just a split second where you and Joel both lost all sense. It didnât mean anything. It couldnât. âMorning,â he responds.Â
You ask him to help carry one of the heaping plates of fluffy pancakes to the table. When he reaches for the taller one, your hand brushes against his and Joel nearly jumps out of his skin at the contact. But then youâre holding your pinky out to him expectantly, and whisper, âOur little secret.âÂ
The vanilla scent is gone, Joel notices. You smell like irish spring instead. Realization dawns on him that you must have showered while he was asleepâ and used his body wash. Thereâs something about that little tidbit of information that sits with him. He likes it, he thinks. He likes smelling himself all over you, likes that something possessed you to use his things without asking. Something inside of him shifts, somethingâŠÂ intense.Â
He knows he shouldnât, but Joel winds his pinky finger around yours anyway. It feels so good to have yet another thing between the two of you. Something of yours that belongs only to him. It makes him feel giddy as if he wasnât running on a single sip of coffee and an hour of sleep.
The remainder of the summer goes on without incident. You donât end up in Joelâs bed again, though you never once leave his intrusive thoughts. He sees you sometimes, tanning in the backyard. He has a perfect view from his bedroom window, and he wonders if maybe you wear those tiny bikini tops for his benefit. But he never asks, even during the few moments you have alone, and is content to pine after you but not touch for the rest of his painfully sorry life.Â
He works. You taunt him. He plays pool in your garage. You come home late in too little clothes and smelling of vanilla scented tequila. Joel says nothing, though. He listens and agrees with your dad that since graduating youâve become a little wild . A littleâŠÂ defiant. They dance around the word bad, but Joel knows the truth. Knows that more than anything, you need a little bit of discipline.Â
Youâre not his to correct, though. So he doesnât. He certainly enjoys watching you, however. He watches you sneak out through your window one night when heâs sitting on the porch. You press your finger to your lips, creating another secret between the two of you. He walks into the kitchen one night to find you filling a vodka bottle with water. Joel says nothingâbut after grabbing another beer heâs got a smile on his lips he canât seem to shake.Â
Heâs mowing the grass in the backyard one sunny afternoon, and he catches a glimpse of something he shouldnât. Joel holds a lot of your secrets close these days, but this one isâŠdifferent.Â
Through your bedroom window, he can see you changing. The curtain is wide open, and youâre wearing nothing but that same pink bra he first saw you in, matching panties, and those knee high socks you used to wear with your cheer uniform. Heâs not sure if youâre getting out of your clothes or into ones more comfortable, but he knows he canât look away. His mouth is dry, and all the blood in his head rushes south. He thinks youâre beautiful. He wants to touch you so badly itâs overwhelming. The supple curves of your hips, the soft tendrils of your hair down your back, the swell of your breastsâ God, youâre the sexiest thing heâs ever seen.Â
And then you pick something up from the floor, and Joel realizes a second later that youâre putting on his flannel. The one you stole at the beginning of the summer. Do you wear it often? Do you always wear it alone, half naked in your bedroom? His lips part and his breath catches in his throat. Heâs not there. Heâs just standing in his backyard, ruining this patch of grassâŠbut a part of him is. Something of his is there, with you, touching you, and somehow it sets him on fire.Â
Especially when he watches you climb into bed. He wonât watch you sleep, he decides. He might have intrusive thoughts and secrets and uncontrollable fantasies, but heâs not a creep.Â
Except you donât go to sleep, so Joel continues to watch. He watches you run red painted fingers over your bare skin, between your breasts, over your belly, and back up. You do it again, slower this time, and Joelâs cock strains in his jeans. He watches you slip your hand beneath the band of your panties. He canât see any details from this far away, but his breathing synchronizes with the speed of your fingers.
Suddenly, he remembers youâre still in his flannel. Realizes that you put it on to touch yourself. Pressure builds in his cock, and he finally admits that yeahâ maybe heâs a little bit of a perv. But only for youâthereâs something about you that drives him fucking insane.Â
He stands there and watches you touch yourself until you finish. He revels in the small arch of your back, in the tremble of your legs, in the way your chest heaves with each ragged breath on the come down. He wants to clean you up with his fucking tongue.Â
Joel doesnât finish mowing the lawn that night.
When you go off to college, he canât deny what a massive relief it is. You move across Texas to some campus far away, and the distance makes him feel like he can breathe easily again. He stops having so many disgusting, intrusive thoughts. He stops feeling guilty every time he plays pool with your dad because those secrets he kept for you were ones that donât truly matter. Not when youâre nowhere to be found, anyway.Â
As the year stretches on, Joel realizes that heâd been wrong all along. He wasnât a pervert. You are a seductress. Even Tommy jokes about the obvious schoolgirl crush you had and admits one night when itâs just the two brothers that if you had thrown yourself at him, he wouldnât have been able to resist you so easily as Joel had.
Itâs not him thatâs in the wrong. Itâs you. You and your soft hair. You and your pretty smile. You and your red nails. You and your pink lace. You and your soft voice. You, you, you.Â
For several years, those intrusive thoughts haven't plagued him. Not until your junior year of college, when some problem with campus housing surfaces and youâre forced to stay at home for a few days. Your dad is excited about it and forces the four of you to go out to dinner together to catch up.Â
He sees you for the first time in so long, and you look so different but somehow even prettier. Youâre wearing a short white dress, and Sarah tells you you look like an angel, and Joel silently agrees. You have a tattoo on the inside of your wrist. Itâs the tiniest little image of two hands with their pinkies wrapped around one another, and he thinks itâs so fitting for a girl with so many secrets.Â
Every time you look at him during dinner, Joel shifts in his seat. He isnât very hungry. Not for food, anyway. Heâs a little floored when you proudly present your shiny, brand new ID to the waitress and order a fruity pink drink called a Paloma. You explain that it has tequila in it, and share a subtle glance across the table, and Joel feels his insides warm as if he was the one drinking a cocktail instead.Â
He drowns himself in work the entire week. He cannotâ cannot afford to find himself back in his old ways. Youâre a woman now. A fully grown woman, who no longer needs validation from older men. He knows you're not interested. He knows this time, this time, it really is Joel whoâs the problem. Avoidance, surprisingly, works.Â
Until you knock on the door one night with a DVD in your hand. âIs Sarah home? I found my old copy of Evil Dead. She said she missed having movie nights.â
Joel shakes his head. âNo, uhmâshe spent the night with a friend. Sorry.â
âOh,â you deflate. âThatâs okay, I get it. Sheâs older now. ItâsâŠâ
âWeird,â he finishes.Â
You laugh softly, and the sound brings a smile to his face. âYeah, really weird,â you agree. âI just hope sheâs nothing like me.â
âWhyâs that?â Your eyes darken, and Joel asks himself why heâs attempting to make conversation at all. Itâs dangerous. He knows this.Â
âYou know,â you say purposefully. âAll those secrets? There were definitely more.â
For a reason he canât pinpoint, it makes him a little annoyed. He knew it the whole timeâof course,  he knew there were more secrets than just the ones he was privy to. But a part of him wanted to know you better than anyone else. And maybe he did, for a second, but that second was long gone now. It was probably over moments after it began. âYeah, wellâŠthatâs different.â
âHow so? Sheâs only a little younger than I was when I met you.â
Itâs an accusation. Joel can feel it. He can feel the anger seeping through your fake sweetness, too. But he doesnât understand it. He didnât do anything wrong. âYouâre not my daughter. Thatâs whatâs different.â
You roll your eyes, and his hands twitch with the urge to grab you by the jaw. âGod, Joelâyouâre such a pussy. Do you know that?â
Your words startle him. A crease forms between his brows, and he takes another step out of the doorway. â Excuse me ?â
âJust say it! Say what you so desperately want to say. I can take it. Say it.â
The words come out slow and deadly, sounding far meaner than intended. âSay what?âÂ
âTell me itâs different because Iâm a slut. Itâs okay, Joel. Itâs just the two of us now. Go ahead. Admit it.â
His jaw ticks.Â
âWhat, you think Iâm dumb? You think I donât hear you laugh at Tommyâs jokes when I walk out of a room? You think I didnât know you guys called me jailbait for years?â You laugh cynically, arms crossed over your chest, and Joel thinks heâs never seen you so angry. So heated.Â
So hot.
He grabs your elbow and yanks you close. âHave you lost your fucking mind?â
Your face is inches from his, and he can smell vanilla and cherry and something happens. Something familiar and unique to you. Something disgusting. âAnd you know what the worst part of it all is?â
The worst part is that heâs twice your age. The worst part is that heâs known you since you were in high school. The worst part is that heâs friends with your father. The worst part is that youâre friends with his daughter. The worst part is that those perverted thoughts were never involuntary. They were never unavoidable. They were never unwanted. They were never intrusive.Â
âYou like it,â you say with a smirk. âYou like that I dress up in short skirts for you, and you like it when I climb in your bed when someone else leaves me unsatisfied. I almost finished that day, did you know?â
â Jesusâfuck âdonâtââ
âYou barely touched me but I was so close just sitting in your lap. You like that I put on your clothes and touch myself in front of my window, hoping youâll see. You like that Iâm a slut for you, Joel Miller. Admit it. Itâs okay. Itâll be our little secret .â
He pulls you into the house and slams the front door closed. His blood boils beneath his skin. He should have slammed it in your face, he thinks. But youâre here nowâtrapped inside with him. Or maybe heâs trapped inside with you.Â
The pleased smile on your face is his undoing. His breath comes fast, and he knows if he moves an inch there will never be any going back from this. So he doesnât move. His limbs are frozen and his eyes are fixed on yours.
After a couple of tense filled seconds, your smile falters. Joel sees it. He hears the slight change in your voice too, as you confess, âI want you to touch me so badly.â
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck âJoel holds your face in his hands and slams his mouth to yours. You taste just the same; cherry sweet and delicious. Itâs his favorite flavor, he thinks. Better than any forbidden fruit. Your tongue is so soft against his and impossibly more greedy. You invade his mouth, his soul, his heart.Â
It happens so fast, and so easily. Your arms loop around his neck and Joel pulls you flush against him and grips the back of your thighs. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, hips already rolling against him like some feral thing inside of you is desperately clawing to get out. His cock has never been this hard, Joel knows. And he knowsâhe knows that he could cum just like this. Touching you, tasting you, feeling your softness. Itâs enough.Â
Still, he wants more. He wants to see you fall apart. He wants to reach inside your chest and make you feel what he feels, make you feel tortured the way heâs been for years.Â
Joel walks to the sofa and sits with his legs spread wide. Youâre still kissing him with everything you have, and itâs a clash of tongues and lips and teeth that he loves so much itâs an effort to thread his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pull you away, but he does it. Youâre both panting, and you let out a whimper at the loss of contact. His cock is throbbing, straining behind his jeans. âPut your money where your mouth is, baby,â he says breathlessly. âYou wanna act like a slut for me, be a slut for me.â
He fists your dress in his hands and pulls it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. And then itâs just you, sitting in Joelâs lap, wearing nothing but pink, lace panties and a pair of strappy white heels. Youâre so pretty, and heâs always known itâbut seeing you up close has him weak. He canât keep himself from touching you, from running his hands over your hips and living the fantasy heâs existed in for what feels like forever.Â
Once he starts, Joel canât stop. He runs his calloused palms over your belly, your ribs, allowing his thumbs to ghost across the underside of your breasts. He moves slowly, meticulously, enjoying every moment. And when you hook your thumbs in the band of your panties with the intention to remove them, he places his hands over yours. âHell no,â he says. âYou think you can tell me you almost finished in my lap that night and get away with it?âÂ
âBut, Iââ
âNuh-uh. Prove it.â
Hesitantly, you tilt your hips against his. He wishes he was in only sweatpants the way he was that night because his jeans are keeping the feeling of your wetness away from him this time. But he can see itâthe baby pink fabric is darker at the apex, and as you grind your hips against his Joel realizes youâre creating a mess on his clothes, too.Â
He understands. He really, really does. He feels it, too. Joel understands how desperate and needy you are. And because heâs just so understanding, he grants you a little reprieve. He leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth. Heâs real sweet about it too, giving you the same tender treatment your mouth gave him that night in his room. He licks the hardened peak softly, swirling his tongue, and you let out the prettiest moan heâs ever heard. The pace of your hips picks up, rolling against the bulge in his jeans faster.Â
âOh, god,â you whimper. Your breath catches, and he can hear your heart beating rapidly behind your ribcage. He peppers kisses across your sternum and inhales deeply, sucking in a breath thatâs nothing but you and holding it in his lungs. He kisses your other nipple and pinches the one wet with his spit between his thumb and forefinger.Â
He sucks your nipple into his mouth and groans when you fist your hands in his hair. You sound so pretty, he thinksâand he leans back on the couch to admire just how pretty you look. He canât catch his breath, but he doesnât mind.
Your pace falters the slightest bit, and your chest is heaving a little slower now. He sinks lower into the couch and thrusts his hips up into youâonce, twice, and your legs are shaking. âAww,â he coos. âYouâre so sensitive, baby. Look at you.â
Too lost in your own bliss, Joel decides to help you, to teach you. He grabs your chin and forces it down, forces your attention to where your bodies are joined.
âI told you to look,â he repeats. Joel turns his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them taught, creating even more pressure against your clit. The pink fabric immediately becomes darker, sopping up some of the mess youâve created on top of him, and Joel intends to make good on his wish to clean you up with his tongue. But not yetânot when you still have something to prove. âYou gonna cum just like that? Hm?â
You nod frantically, your attention flickering between his dark eyes and your panties clutched between his thick fingers. â Yes,â you tell him, legs trembling. Your pace is quick, and each roll of your hips becomes shorter and shorter. And with Joel moving underneath you it only takes seconds more before you combust. âOh, fuckâfuckâIâm coming, Iâm comingâ!â
âThatâs it,â he says, and you feel the deep timbre of his voice skitter across your skin like embers. âThere you go. Youâre being such a good slut for me, hm?â
When your orgasm finally fizzles out, you fall limply forward and Joel is there to catch you, like he always has been, like he silently vows he always will be. He rubs soothing circles against your spine and presses sweet kisses into your hair, waiting patiently as you try and regain what little composure you have left.Â
You lift your head from the crook of his neck, and your eyes are glossy and your bottom lip is swollen and your cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue, and Joel thinks youâve never been more beautiful. But then you slide from his lap to the floor in one fluid movement, and he realizes that this is the prettiest youâve ever been; on your knees before him, eyes bright with anticipation and excitement. You place your hands on top of his strong thighs, look up at him through your lashes and ask softly, âCan I suck your dick, Joel?â
He has to squeeze his eyes shut. He has to because his cock is so fucking hard and your voice is so sweet and filthy he canât handle it. He breathes in slowly through his nose and says, âOf course you can, baby.â
Without a moment's hesitation, you unbuckle his belt. The metal clinks in your fingers, and Joelâs heart is racing when you unbutton his jeans and hook your thumbs through the loops to tug them down. His cock snaps against his belly, and you lick your pink lips.
You take it in your hands, and Joel aches when you swipe your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty sweetness of his precum. He canât believe this is really happening, that youâre really here, running your sweet, sweet tongue over every inch of his cock. Youâre tasting him, savoring him, and Joel wonders if it pleases you to see him all bent out of shape like this.Â
He prides himself on his masculinity. Heâs always been a strong man, one who handles his shit on his own. Maybe itâs the Texas in him, but Joelâs always had traditional values. Heâs always been the provider, the protectorâheâs always been the one in charge. But when you wrap your lips around him and ease his cock into your hot, wet mouth, heâs at your complete mercy.Â
â Fuck,â he hisses, hands going to your hair. He tangles the silky strands between his fingers, and you hollow out our cheeks, creating a suction that has him groaning. He feels each pass of your lips down his spine, pressure forming low in his belly. âJust like that, pretty girl.â
You wrap your hand around the base and stroke the length you canât fit into your mouth, and his grip in your hair tightens. Your nails are painted redâand the look of them wrapped around his cock is far better than heâd ever been able to imagine in his head. Itâs so good that he doesnât want to stop, he wants to cum just like this. He wants to expend himself at the back of your throat and watch his cum leak out of your mouth.
But Joel doesnât get too far ahead of himself. There are other things, filthier things he wants to do to you than fill your mouth up. You let out a whiny groan as if sucking him off is somehow more pleasurable for you than it is for him. Itâs the sexiest thing heâs ever seen, and the vibrations nearly send him over the edge, but Joel rips your head back to prolong this precious time with you.Â
Your eyes are glassy, makeup smeared, lips swollen. You give him a beaming smile and Joel huffs a breath. âDid I do a good job?â
â Yes, baby,â he says. âYou did so well. Câmere, stand up.â You do as told, even though your legs are wobbly, and Joel lifts your foot into his lap. He unbuckles the straps of your heel, takes it off and sets it aside. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and repeats the action with the other one, and then proceeds to pull your panties down your legs. He helps you out of the pink lace, and he knows he shouldnât but he just canât help himself and shoves them between the couch cushions, where he hopes youâll forget about them.
He presses his mouth to your hip bone, an open mouthed kiss that leaves goosebumps in its wake as he does the same to your other side. âThat feels so good,â you tell him.
Joel keeps peppering wet kisses across your belly, below your navel, over your pubic bone. Your thighs are pressed together, and youâre shifting on your feet in anticipation, and Joel can see the shiny wetness coating your pussy. He reaches between your legs and so gently slides his middle finger teasingly over your slit. It comes away sticky and wet, and he canât resist the urge to lick the digit clean. Itâs heady and sweet, and he feels drunker than whiskey or tequila has ever made him. âOh, sweetheart,â he says, forehead falling against your abdomen. âWhat are you doing to me?â
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âI want you so bad, Joel. Please touch me.â Your hands are in his hair, stroking the unruly curls and lightly pulling.
The word please in your mouth sounds so fucking cute, so needy and desperate. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to be a good man when you exist? He canât, Joel knows. So long as youâre nearâheâll never be a good man. Only a bad one. Only a perverse one. He hooks his arm around your leg and lifts it over his shoulder, keeping his other hand wrapped around your waist for balance, and lets himself taste you fully, to drink from the source.Â
And Jesus Christ, Joel loses it. He laps at your pussy, swallowing you up. He cleans up the mess you made in his lap, relishing in the decadence. He could do this for hours, he thinks. Could swirl his tongue around your swollen clit, could suck it between his lips, and kiss it softly for the rest of his life. He breathes in slowly, taking your scent deep into his lungs, and wonders why heâd ever want to come up for air. Your moans are music to his ears.
He dares a glance up at you to watch your expression when he reaches beneath you and slips a finger easily into your dripping pussy.Â
Your head falls back, your mouth falls open, and Joel falls in love.Â
The noises you make are obscene as you grind against his face, but not nearly as much as the sounds heâs making from between your legs. Heâs groaning with your clit in his mouth and youâre creating a puddle in his palm, and itâs so sloppy and disgusting and he fucking loves it.Â
Joel silently admits that you were right; that he loves your obscenities. He loves your secrets. He loves your defiance. He loves your depravity.Â
He loves that youâre such a fucking slut.Â
âOh, godâ Joelâ!â
He pulls away because if youâre going to moan out his name again itâs going to be because of his cock. He stands abruptly, keeping one hand at the small of your back, and holds your jaw. With your face tilted up towards him, he smirks as he watches tears form in your eyes. âWhatâs wrong, baby?â
âWhy did you stop?â Your voice is so whiny, so hopeless and frantic that it makes his cock twitch. âYou were about to make me cum,â you say.
He kisses you hard, and you moan into his mouth, and Joel runs out of patience. He lifts you up and lays your back flat against the couch. Heâs hovering over you, and his cock is just inches from the place itâs wept to be inside for so many years. Joel rolls it against you, gasping at the feel of your pussy on the underside of his cock. Youâre so wet, and he doesnât know how heâs supposed to last long enough for this to be good for you.Â
But heâs determined. â Joel,â you beg breathlessly, bucking your hips to try and find just the right angle where he slips inside.
âYeah, baby?â He tilts his head slightly, watching as your eyes flicker back and forth between his hips and his predatory grin.Â
âYouâre being mean,â you say. âStop teasing me. Just put it in, Joel, I need it so bad.â
He kisses your forehead. âSâthat right?â
âYes!â
Itâs impossible, he thinks, to hold back his laugh. âYouâre so fucking cute, baby,â he says. âSay please.â
â Please! Please, please pleâ!â
Joel lets out a ragged breath as he pushes into you. Finally, he thinks. Finally, finally, finally. âFuck.â
Itâs so much better than he ever imagined. He sinks in deep until your hips are flush, and even then he pushes your knee back to open you up and get impossibly deeper.Â
âOh my god,â you whimper, and Joel kisses you to swallow up the beautiful sound.Â
You take him like you were made for his cock. And maybe you were, because Joel had never known it could be this fucking good. He knows itâll never be this good again. âYouâre taking it like such a good slut, baby,â he whispers into your ear, tongue sliding up your neck. He pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, the sudden change in force ripping a cry from your throat. âShhh, itâs okay. You can take it.â
With your arms and legs wrapped around him, Joel fucks you slow. Real slow, real deepâheâs touching parts of you you didnât even know existed. You feel so full and pressure coils around your spine.Â
âFeels good, doesnât it?â
âYes, yes yesâ mmmâ!â
He sets a steady pace, hitting that soft spot inside of you every time. He reaches between your bodies and swipes this thumb over your clit. âSay thank you, baby.â
You look right into his eyes, warm and dark and full of devotion. You say, â Thank you, Joel,â and you suddenly remember the same memory he does of that first day.Â
He remembers how pretty you looked on your knees, and you remember how you spent that whole night in your bed touching yourself to him.Â
And now itâs happened, itâs finally happened, and his cock is buried deep inside of you and his thumb is pressing hard against your clit and before he realizes it, your pussy is squeezing him as you cum.Â
Tremors rock through your body, legs shaking and red painted fingernails clawing at his back. He keeps his same steady pace and says, âGive it to me, baby. Good fucking girl, being such a good little slut for me. Thatâs it. Give it to me. There you go.â
Even when your muscles loosen, you keep your limbs wound around him tight. Like even though youâve finished and heâs seconds away from following you there, you still want him as close as possible. It makes him feel tender. âI want you to cum inside me,â you say, and Joelâs cock spasms in your tight pussy. âCum in me, Joel, please âfill me up.â
He shouldnât, he really fucking shouldnât, but he already is, and stars blur his vision. Joel fights through the blindness though, and squeezes your cheeks in his hand. âLook at me,â he orders, and looking at your face makes him cum even harder. You take his thumb into your mouth, soft tongue circling it. And Joel bottoms out inside of you, has the best orgasm of his entire fucking life inside of a girl half his age, but cannot bring himself to regret a single second.
The weight of him over you is heavy but comforting. Itâs perfect, and helps you catch your breath. Joel is panting, and you smell like vanilla and irish spring and cherry chapstick and when his eyes close, he wonders if heâs died and gone to heaven.Â
Your fingers are stroking his spine lazily when the fear creeps in. Do you regret it? Now that itâs out of your system, do you wish youâd never have done it? Never have taunted him, never had let him keep all those secrets, never have come over tonight? The Evil Dead DVD sits on the floor by the front door, abandoned.Â
There couldnât have been much tequila in your mixed drink. You didnât taste like alcohol at all. But still, youâd had someâdo you feel like maybe he took advantage of you?Â
Joel is afraid to look at you. Heâs afraid to open his mouth, to ask if youâre alright, to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness.Â
But then you ask him softly, âIs it okay if I sleep with you tonight?â
He hears the echo of those words, and wonders if you do, too. You wince as he finally sits up and pulls himself out of you. He knows he should say no, but he canât. Instead, he asks, âWill you make pancakes in the morning?â
The sound of your girlish laughter greets him and calms his fears for now. âAnything you want.â
Joel stops at the bathroom on the way to his bed and cleans the sticky mess from between your legs. Itâs then as he realizes how many unhinged decisions heâd made tonight. He doesnât know if youâve slept with other people without protection, doesnât know if youâre on birth control, doesnât know if youâd be willing to take a contraceptive pill in the morning if youâre not, doesnât know anything. The distance, while easier, has taken so much of you from him. And the realization leaves Joel cold.Â
Youâre so young, and heâs so much older than youâŠif the worst happened, would it even be the worst? Do you even want kids?Â
A new fantasy emerges in his brain. The first one since admitting to himself that itâs a little more than just an intrusive thought. Youâre standing on the back porch with a beaming smile, hand over your eyes to block out the bright summer sun while he mows the lawn. Youâre in a pretty pink sundress, and your belly is swollen with Joelâs baby, and his knees buckle as he leads you to his bedroom.Â
You climb in beside him, and he holds you under the blankets a little tighter than you hold him. Emotion chokes him. Joel swallows it down. But then you ask, âWhatâs wrong?â
âI want to keep you,â he confesses. âI want to keep you forever.â
For a moment, itâs quiet. He wonders if maybe you think heâs going to say more, but he doesnât. He doesnât know what else to say. He doesnât have anything else to say.Â
âSo do it,â you whisper.Â
âBut I canât.â
âYou can,â you tell him with a sigh. âYou can, Joel. Thatâs the real secret.â
The words reverberate through him. They clang around in his brain and leave him with something akin to elation. You kiss his jaw, and Joel thinks maybe you might be right. Maybe he will keep you.Â
But for tonight, having you here pressed against him with the promise of pancakes in the morning is enough.
[PART TWO] coming soon
[masterlist]
divider by @thecutestgrotto <3
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Day 3: Peter Pevensie X Reader: Mirror Sex
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A/n: Apologies for this being super late. Writer's block is ass. Also sorry for it being short. 18+ Smut
Warnings: Smut, Mirror sex. P in V.
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It's ten minutes till dinner and I'm in my room finishing up getting ready. Smoothing down my dress in the mirror. Lucy and Susan are sitting on the bed chatting to each other and waiting for me so we can all walk down together.Â
âYou look fine Y/n.â Susan says. Lucy nods in agreement.Â
âThank you. Just want to make sure it looks okay I mean, Peter is down there and I just..I want to look nice you know?â I say nervously.Â
Susan gets off the bed and walks over to me, âI get it, but itâs Peter weâre talking about. He wonât care.â She said, rubbing my back in comfort.Â
âI still donât understand your crush on my brother Y/n.â Lucy says also getting off the bed.Â
I rolled my eyes, âOf course you won't Lu, heâs your brotherâ I said. She just smiles and shakes her head.Â
I take one more look in the mirror and then turn around and take a big breath. âAlright, I'm ready. Letâs go.â I saidÂ
We all turn around and leave the bedroom, walking down the stairs. I can hear grunting and rustling. We get down stairs and see the boys. Edmund and Peter, wrestling each other.Â
Me and Lucy look at each other and roll our eyes. We stand there for another minute before Susan clears her throat. They stop, and slowly turn their heads to see us standing there.Â
I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. âWhat,are you boys doing?â I ask.Â
They scramble off the ground and dust off their clothes, Edmond clears his throat, âwe were just messing around.â he said nonchalantly.Â
âOf course you were.â I said back. I look over at Peter to see him staring at me but when he notices me looking he clears his throat and looks away.Â
âWe should head to dinner. Itâs almost 8 and Ms.Chatham said the food is almost ready.âHe said, heading to the dining room.Â
We all follow him. Taking our places at the table. Ms.Pevensie is already there.Â
âAbout time children. Ms.Chatham is about to bring out the food. Sit, sit.â She said,
âApologies Mum, we lost track of the time.â Peter said.Â
âIt's quite alright but do not make a habit of this.â She said in a warning tone.Â
As she finished this. The food started coming out. The servers, Justine and Mikey, start plating everyone. Starting with Ms.Pevensie, seeing as she is at the head of the head, then Peter and I since we are on the right side of the table. Susan is at the other end and Edmund and Lucy are on the other side.Â
âThank you Justine and Mikey. You are excused until dessert.: Ms Pevensie said.Â
They quickly walked back to the kitchen and we began to eat. Dinner time is quiet as usual. Everyone is too hungry to enjoy conversation.Â
As I'm taking a bite of the pasta, I feel a breath on my ear.Â
âYou look lovely tonight Y/n.â Peter whispers in my ear.Â
I Blush and nod, âThank you Pete.â I said back
He smiles and we go back to eating.
We all finish the meal in silence.Â
Justine comes out a few minutes later to collect pur plates.Â
âExcuse me for a moment. I need to use the restroomâ I say standing up.Â
The bathroom is down the hall and then when you turn left it's the 3rd door. It's a good distance from the bathroom.Â
I go about my business in the restroom. Washing my hands and drying them. As I open the door to leave. I get pushed back in.Â
âWoah!â I yell. Looking up to see Peter closing and locking the door.Â
âPete, What the hell are you doing?â I asked.Â
He looks at me for a sec before slowly walking towards me.Â
âI donât know. I just..canât get the image of you in this dress,â he takes a finger and runs it down my side, âout of my headâ He whispers.Â
My breath hitches and my mouth gaps a little.Â
âW-what do you mean?â I ask.Â
He looks me up and down and then looks me in my eyes.Â
âI think you know what I mean darling.â He says. His face is getting closer to mine.Â
My eyes close slightly as he gets closer and closer. His lips ghost over mine, and his hands grip my waist.Â
Just as I think he's gonna kiss me, he quickly turns me around and pushes me up against the sink so weâre now looking at each other through the mirror.Â
âWhat are you doing?â I ask. Try to wiggle free.Â
âWhat Iâve been wanting to do for a while now.â He responds. Giving my neck slow kisses. Â
My head tilts back unconsciously.Â
His right hand trails down to the hem of the dress and pulls it up over my waist. Still placing kisses on my neck, he moves his hand to my panties, hooking his finger under and dragging them down.Â
I open my eyes slightly and make eye contact with him in the mirror.Â
My hand reaches back and grips his cock, slowly rubbing it for a few seconds before pulling it out and rubbing it on my entrance.Â
He hisses and his head tilts slightly. He removes my hand and takes over, slowly pushing inside me. I moaned, but I guess too loudly because he had to put a hand over my mouth.Â
âQuiet darling. Donât wanna get caught now do we?â He asks. I shake my head quickly.Â
He starts off slowly before picking up the paste.Â
âImma take my hand off now, think u can stay quiet?â He asked.Â
I nod and he takes his hand off and puts it on the waist with the other one.Â
Starting to pump faster I lean over the sink, needing to grip something. My hand came in contact with the already semi steamy mirror.Â
He groans slightly âOh god, i'm gonna come darling. I-I need you to come with me baby. Can you do that?â He asks hurriedly.Â
I nod. âUh huh, Yes yes yes.â I whisper, my voice cracking.Â
âOkay baby,â he says, pumping as fast as he can, âOn the count of three baby, come with me.â He says.Â
â1â His hands move to my shoulders for a better grip.Â
â2â My right hand is still gripping the mirror, my left grips his arms.Â
â3â He says and we both let go, I moan so loud he has to turn my head and kiss me to shut me up.Â
When he finally stops thrusting, we both pause for a minute to take a deep breath. My body slumps against the sink and he slowly pulls out.Â
He puts himself away and then turns me around. He helps me pull my panties back up and fix my dress before grabbing my face and giving me a passionate kiss.Â
I gasp as I pull away. âHow, how long have you wanted to do that?â I ask.Â
He rubs my face with his thumb âSince I met you in year 9â He says and smiles.Â
I smile back.Â
âIâm pretty sure it's already obvious but if itâs not. I like you Y/n. Alot.â He says.Â
âI like you too Pete.â I say back. Blushing and reaching up to give him another kiss.Â
#smut#narnia fanfiction#peter pevensie#peter pevensie x reader#chronicles of narnia#smut writing#edmund pevensie#lucy pevensie#susan pevensie
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i will never get over this man i fear !!!!
taglist : @versatilehater @ilovedilfstoomuch @taylormarieee @empty-malboro-box @nadiasgf @blackvelveteen1339
if you want to join the taglist comment here
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I feel like this is actually how James would find out đđ
James: Are you sleeping with Moony?
Sirius: What? Canât two grown men share a bed together without it being sexual, Prongs?
James: No
Sirius: Yeah, Iâm sleeping with Moony. Definitely, weâre also dating
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Kinktober Day 2-Peter Parker(Biting/Scratching)
Sorry it's late but im lazy, hope you enjoy.
TW: Unprotected sex, biting and "scratching"
Words: 533
May fell asleep a while ago but Peter just wanted to be extra safe before doing what he wanted to do.Â
He looked over to his aunt one more time to triple check she was asleep before moving his hand, that was originally around his girlfriends hips, down a bit further.Â
Her head was on his arm, watching the movie when she felt his hand go into her pj shorts and rub her slit.Â
He took his middle finger and slowly pushed his finger inside her, causing her to bite her lip to keep in the sound she so desperately wanted to make.Â
After a couple seconds, he pulled his finger out, causing her to whine.Â
He tutted in her ear, pulling down his sweats just enough to release his cock and then slowly lowering her pj shorts.Â
He slowly rubbed his cock up and down her slit a few times before inserting himself inside.Â
She turned her head towards his arm and bit down to stop the loud moan she wanted to release.Â
He started pumping, going faster and faster until she was biting his arm, which may have caused him to bleed a little bit. Â
She was gripping his arm so tight, she left nail imprints on them.Â
He looked down at her, his breathing starting to become short.Â
âI'm about to cum baby but I need you to cum first. Can you do that love? Huh?â Peter whispered in her ear.
She nodded and closed her eyes as soon as she felt his finger rubbing her clit.Â
âOh my gosh Pete, Im cumming petey oh my goddddâ She whispered to him, running her nails up his arm before forcing it over her mouth to help stop the big moan she let out as she came.Â
He continued rubbing her slowly helling her come down but also helping him cum as well.Â
And a couple minutes later, he pulled out before cumming all over her back.Â
He moaned in her ear as he came and she sighed as she felt his warm release.Â
The sigh almost sounded relieved, as if sheâs been waiting for this to happen.Â
He took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to her lips.
They quickly pulled away when they heard shuffling next to them and they both looked over to see may turning over to face them.Â
They both held their breath, but once she did a little snore, they both released a breath.Â
They looked at eachother and giggled before she quickly pulled her shorts up and stood up, on shaky legs.Â
Peter raised an eyebrow as if to ask what she's doing.Â
And she just pointed to the end of the movie credits and whispered she was gonna go to the bathroom to change her shirt.Â
He just nodded and stood up too.Â
He looked at may again before, walking over to her, covering her with the blanket by her feet, and turned off the tv.Â
Then he went to his room, to find his girl already laying there, waiting for him.Â
He smiled and closed his door, walking towards the bed and joining her.Â
Both immediately falling into a long ass sleep.
#smut#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker#peter parker smut#the avengers#spiderman#spiderman smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#female reader
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Kinktober Day 1-Tony Stark(Fingersucking)
Hope you enjoy, Ik it's super late but I was lazy.
TW: Fingersucking.
Words: 1k
-----------------------------------------
âExcuse me, Mr.Stark? Here are the papers Mr.Fury faxed you.â I said, walking into his office after I heard a come in.Â
Tony was typing furiously on his laptop with an angered look on his face, âHm? Oh yes, set it right there on the desk darlin. Thank you.â He gave me a strained smile and returned back to typing.Â
I started walking to the door when I heard a loud sigh behind me. I stopped and slowly turned around before carefully asking him, âHey uh, Mr.Stark, Iâm sorry if Iâm over stepping right now but you seem stressed. Is everything okay?â I cautiously asked him.Â
He looked up, eyes furrowed before leaning back in his chair, sighing again.Â
âIâm fine darlin, just Steve being difficult again. Nothing I canât handle.â He said, taking a drink of his coffee.Â
I nodded my head and did a small small before turning back around towards the door and opening it.Â
âBut,â He started, causing me to stop in my tracks again. âIf you want to help me, I may have an idea on how to do that.â He said, lifting his left eyebrow in a suggesting way.Â
I stood still, slightly in shock at the way his voice lowered and the suggestive tone he used. Could he be asking me what I think he is? No, no, he can't be, that is highly unprofessional and this is Mr.Stark weâre talking about.Â
I slowly turned around for the third time since I stepped into this room 5 minutes ago. âUh, excuse me Mr.Stark but, I'm not too sure I understand?â I semi asked, semi stated.Â
He chuckled a bit and waved me over with this pointer and middle finger.Â
I walked over, standing right next to him.
He scooted his chair out a bit, and patted his lap.Â
I looked from his face to his lap and back up to his face for reassurance before he nodded and lightly grabbed my wrist, giving me a little tug.Â
âSit darlin, I promise I won't bite.â He said, as I sat on his lap.Â
I shyly look up at him considering this is how close I've ever been to him. He smiled down at me and leaned forward a bit.Â
âSo, what I was thinking darlin 'was that, Iâve been a little stressed out lately and the only way for me to relax is to release.â He said softly.
I stayed silent, still staring up at him, the only thing that told him I was listening was the little nod I gave.Â
âSo I was thinking, you're such a good little assistant. You could be my good little girl and sit on my cock while I work?â He asked, so casually, might I add.Â
My eyes widened and I struggled forming words before I gave up and just nodded my head.Â
He looked at me for a second before shaking his head, âI need to hear your words darlinâ, he said.Â
So I nodded my head again, but this time I also muttered a quiet but still very hearable, âYes.âÂ
He smiled wide before pushing his chair out more and patting my butt, telling me to stand for a minute.Â
I stood, on slightly shaky legs.
He began unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants as well as his boxers.Â
All I could do was stare, I mean geez, how was that thing gonna fit in me anyways.Â
He looked back up after he was done and tugged my waist closer to him, pulling me down onto him. My knees on both sides of his.Â
I pushed my skirt up and moved my panties aside before taking a quick glance at him.Â
He grabbed his cock, rubbing it up and down my pussy before slowly pushing inside.Â
I gripped his shoulder hard and moaned so loud Iâm sure the whole tower could hear.Â
Once I was fully seated and he was fully inside me. I began to slowly bounce, not too fast but just enough for both of us.Â
He scooted his chair back in and pulled his laptop closer to the end of the desk so he could reach it.Â
After a couple mins, he put a hand on my butt to stop me from bouncing.Â
I whined so loud he had to shush me, and I guess the only way to do that was to shove his fingers in my mouth.Â
However, I donât think he thought I would start sucking on them.Â
He looked at me, slowly smirking, âYou like this darlin? You like sucking my fingers?â He asked, shoving them more into my mouth, causing me to gag and fix my breathing.Â
I nodded and looked up with watery eyes, sucking and licking his fingers, while moving my hips in a circle to get some friction.Â
He slowly drug his fingers out of my mouth before running them over my covered top and onto my bare pussy.Â
He tapped it a few times before rubbing small circles on my clit.Â
Increasing the speed every couple seconds.Â
I leaned forward, the pleasure being too much, and moaned in his ear.Â
âOh my god Mr.Stark. Im, I-Iâm cummingâ I said. Moving my hips in circles faster on his cock as his finger rubbed circles on my clit.Â
â Yeah, darlin, you cumming on my cock? That it honey cum all over my cock,â He said, biting my ear lobe, causing me to go over the edge.Â
I screamed as I came all over his cock.
He continued to rub me, slowly coming to a stop as I came down.Â
I was hunched forward looking down between us, my mind foggy from what just happened.Â
OMG, I just fucked my boss. In his office. What the fuck is wrong with me?!!
With all these thoughts in my head, I didnât notice him pulling my chin up to look at him.Â
âYou alright honey? Need anything? Water?â He asked, lightly rubbing my cheek.Â
I just shook my head and leaned forward, resting my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.Â
He chuckled softly and whispered, âYou tired? Wanna take a little nap?âÂ
I just nodded and he sighed before pulling back into his desk and started working again. This time seeming more relaxed.Â
As I opened my eyes and noticed he was just finishing up, I grabbed his left hand and brought it up to my mouth, slowly opening it and starting to suck his fingers again.Â
My eyes started to droop and before I knew it, I was knocked out.Â
He looked down at me one more time, smiled and returned back to work.
#smut#the avengers#tony stark#iron man#iron man smut#tony stark smut#tony stark x reader#tony stark x y/n#tony stark x you#tony stark imagine#kinktober#female reader
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*These fics won't be long because I am in a writers block. However I still want to do this so I am sorry in advance, but I do still hope you enjoy.
--------------------------------
Day 1: Finger Sucking (Tony Stark)Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
Day 2: Biting/Scratching (Peter Parker)
Day 3: Mirror Sex (Peter Pevensie)
Day 4: Cockwarming (Remus Lupin)
Day 5: Sleepy/Somnophilia (James Potter)
Day 6: Wax (Thor Odinson)
Day 7: Costumes;) (Fred Weasley)
Day 8: Nudes/Phone sex (Bruce Banner)
Day 9: Handcuffs (Loki Laufeyson)
Day 10: Caught (Edmund Pevensie)
Day 11: Threesome (Natasha Romanoff & Wanda Maximoff)
Day 12: Knife Play (Eddie Munson)
Day 13: Double Penetration (Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes)
#smut#eddie munson imagine#bucky barnes x female!reader#kinktober#bruce banner#thor odinson#loki laufeyson#fred weasley smut#steve x reader#steve rodgers imagine#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#threesome#edmund pevensie x reader#peter parker x reader smut#peter pevensie#harry potter fanfiction#james potter#remus lupin#tony stark#strangerthings#the avengers
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This was soo slayyy. Love the angst, plss tag me in the next part đ©đ€
No Longer Yours
James Potter x Female!Reader
IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, itâs incredible and one of the best Iâve ever read !)
A/N: First, I apologize for my time writing this; it just had to be perfect! I am so grateful that you all love my story enough to give it so much love and support and practically beg for a part 3; thank you so much. I had no idea how to start and continue this, so please be kind. I really hope you guys enjoy this part, and I hope it's everything you dreamed of <3
Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?
Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
"Shh.. don't wake her up!" You heard Lily whisper in your half-asleep state as the sun peeked at you through the blinds.
"It's Marlene's big oger feet," Mary snorted.
"Hey! My feet are not the size of oger feet," Marlene replied, sticking out her tongue.
"Shh!" Lily warned.
You heard the shuffling of paper and steps as you opened your eyes to see your best friends hanging up decorations, a smile appearing on your face immediately.
"Oh, bollocks," Lily sighed, face-palming, "Happy birthday!" She yelled, half annoyed but half happy there was a smile on your face. She embraced you as you sat upright in bed, glad to see your friend's dedication to your birthday.
The rest of them told you a happy birthday, embracing you in a tight hug.
"Wow, I can't believe you actually got Marlene up this early," You said, opening another card they gave you.
"Well, it took a chicken drumstick," Dorcas replied.
"Otherwise, I would've been grouchy, and Y/n would have had a horrible birthday, so really I did it for her," Marlene said as Mary rolled her eyes.
"I wonder what the Marauders have planned, especially James," Lily muttered.
Every year for your birthday, James would give you a grand birthday party and tons of presents. He usually would sneak into your dorm room and surprise you with cannons and the other Marauders, but of course, this year was different.
And coincidentally, your birthday was the same day as the start of winter break, which always meant you had to pack on your birthday.
And every birthday, you had to go over to James's house for your birthday dinner with your families.
Which you were not looking forward to this year.
"Oh shit, sorry, Y/n, I know you don't want to speak about him," Lily apologized.
"It's alright; I'm sure I'll be reminded of him today many times," You replied, getting out of bed, "I can't believe I don't get to spend my birthday at Hogwarts," You said, grabbing clothes from your closet, setting them next to the trunk.
"It does suck, but you can at least be excited about your birthday dinner," Lily replied, closing her trunk.
"Hopefully, it goes well without James hinting to our parents that I hate him and don't want anything to do with him," You angrily said, shoving your clothes in your trunk.
"Do you really hate him, though?" Mary asked, "I mean, you were best friends with him all these years, and now, you utterly hate him,"
"That was before I realized he was cruel and truly considered me anything but something that he couldn't get rid of," You said, "But enough about James, are we still meeting together after Christmas?"
"Of course, your house, Y/n?" Dorcas asked.
You nodded, "But we can't steal my parent's booze again; I'm pretty sure the elves are scared of Marlene,"
"I didn't mean to scare them with my clown impression; it was just too good," Marlene smirked.
"Yeah yeah, for sure," You said, laughing before packing the rest of your clothes.
Suddenly, your parent's owl flew in from the window, delivering you a letter. You opened the envelope and straightened the folded-up letter, which stated:
Dear beloved Y/n,
Your father and I are experiencing a torturous delay from France; we have fought with the conductor multiple times and even considered apparating or the floo. Unfortunately, because of the horrible mangling rabbit, I TOLD your father not to eat, he has been throwing up all evening, and we can't apparate, and the nearest floo is eight hours away. You will stay with the Potters tonight and tomorrow night because too many wards might injure you in the house that the elves can't disable, but we hope to return before then. We want you to have the most incredible birthday and love you so much; we are incredibly sorry to miss it. Please forgive us.
Sincerely,
Your proud parents.
"What does the letter say?" Lily asked, glancing at you the folding her socks.
"My parents are stuck in a delay and can't make it to my birthday dinner in time, or even tomorrow," You shrugged.
"I am so sorry, Y/n," Lily said, embracing you.
You hugged her back. "It's okay; at least I have the Potters.
"Are you sure you will be okay?" Dorcas asked.
"Yeah, you can stay with me if you want," Mary offered.
"No, it's fine." You sighed, "They will be hurt if I skipped the opportunity to continue the tradition, and my mom would wring my head off if I didn't go," You joked.
"Okay, well, let us know," Lily smiled.
The whole part of you was sincerely upset; you didn't want your parents to not be there for your birthday. Even worse, you weren't on good terms with James, which only made for an awkward dinner with his family.
But you understood and knew your parents would make it up to you, and you know how guilty they felt; you just missed them.
You chose to keep your mind off it and keep packing until it was time to go to the train.
"When does this bloody train come?" Marlene shivered, "I'm fucking freezing,"
"I told you to bring your jumper," Mary sighed.
"I didn't think I really needed it," Marlene replied, gritting her teeth.
"I knew you would be cold," You said, giving her one of your extra jumpers.
"You know, Y/n, I'll kick Potter's bloody ass for you; just remember that," Marlene suggested, causing you to laugh.
"Speaking of the devil," Dorcas muttered under her breath.
You turned around to see James looking straight into your eyes. You had to admit that James had never been so intimidating. His eyes looked as if they had darkened, and he looked as if you were his Slytherin competitor in Quidditch.
"Are you ready?" He asked, his voice sounding deeper.
He didn't even say Happy Birthday.
"I'm gonna sit with them," You blankly stated, not an ounce of kindness in your voice.
"It's better if we sit together," James demanded, "Otherwise, we won't be able to find each other in the crowd when the train stops," He explained to you slowly as if you were a child, which only pissed you off.
"Are you fucking mishearing me, or are you just delusional?" You asked, "I said I'm gonna sit with my friends and not assholes. I don't even consider an acquaintance." You sneered, your voice sounding so harsh that it shocked your friends, "Please do me a favor and leave me the fuck alone."
"Are you really gonna be an uptight bitch?" James asked, a cocky smile on his face, "I mean, Jesus, I like it better when your mouth is shut or perhaps filled." Some of you knew that James was just being an asshole because he was hurt, which is what he always did, even when he was a kid, but the only thing about it was that he only did it to you.
That only angered you more before you slapped him for his rude comment, "Don't you fucking dare speak to me like that."
"Or what?" He stepped closer
"Okay, guys!" Lily stepped in, "We will approach you five minutes before the train stops, and you guys will walk together in peace, hopefully," Lily dragged you away as you glared at James.
"I can't believe you actually slapped him," Marlene said, following after you guys, "I mean, after what he said, I would've punched him so hard in the di-"
Mary cut her off, "Jokes aside, are you okay, Y/n? I mean, I have never seen James so mean and awful towards you or anyone for that matter,"
You sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just don't get why he is so mean to me when he was the one who broke my trust in the first place,"
"What did he do?" Marlene asked.
The rest of the group looked at Marlene as if she had killed a unicorn. Nobody had really asked what James had done but considering your resentment towards him, it mustâve been unforgiving.
You hesitated, âHe just didnât say some nice things about me.â You answered, hoping to move on.
âLike what kind of things?â Marlene pried.
You could tell she was just curious, but you were so humiliated by what James had said that you didnât even want to tell your closest friends.
Dorcas elbowed Marlene, causing her to hiss in pain before she said, âIt isnât our business if you donât want to tell us, Y/n.â
âYeah,â Lily agreed, âMaybe itâs better it is between you and James.â
The rest of the group agreed including Marlene who was hunched over in pain and verbally cursing Dorcas for the hard elbow.
You muttered a âthanksâ before heading onto the train. You sat by the window, staring outside to the foggy mountains.
You didnât want to admit it but you did miss James and how much he cared for your birthday. Sometimes it seemed like it was his birthday with how high he held your birthday.
You didnât understand why he couldnât just try to even figure out what he had done or fight for your forgiveness, he just chose to be angry at you.
You didn't even want to think about him. Why does your whole life revolve around him?
"Anything from the trolley dearies?" The Trolley Witch asked.
"Chocolate frogs," Marlene said.
"Jumbling Jellies," Lily answered.
"I'll take Fizzing Wheezies," You said, paying her 10 galleons for you all.
"Y/n, you don't ha-" Lily was about to say before Marlene shushed her.
Lily glared as Marlene spoke, "Bless your heart, Y/n," She smiled as you laughed.
As Marlene started devouring her chocolate frog, you couldn't help but remember how you and James would share Fizzing Wheezies every time on your birthday on the train.
Practically tradition.
You wondered if he thought the same. If he was relishing in the memories.
Your thinking was halted when Dorcas set a hand on your thigh as you smiled, laying your head on her shoulder. You closed your eyes, trying to prepare for the day ahead.
--
"Y/n," Someone lightly shook you by your shoulder as you looked to see Lily. She was waking all of the girls up as the train stopped.
You yawned, getting up to grab your luggage. James was right that there would be traffic, so you had to rush off, saying your goodbyes to your best friends.
"Promise to write?" Lily asked, looking near tears.
"Lils, it's only a week," You snorted as she gave you a stern look.
"A week I won't get to see you," She hugged you tighter as you smiled and returned it.
"See you before Christmas?" She asked.
You rubbed her shoulder, "See you before Christmas."
"Promise me you won't forgive Potter," Marlene sighed, causing you to laugh.
"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Mary asked next to Marlene.
"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Marlene mocked, causing Mary to glare.
"Okay, okay!" You laughed at the both of them, "Only if you promise you both will stop bickering," You hugged them both.
They glared at each other as Dorcas spoke, "Forgetting someone?"
You grinned, "Never," You hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.
You were waiting for her to say, "Give him hell?" You asked as she laughed.
"I think you know what to do," She encouraged before you exited, waving goodbye to all of them.
Even though it was only a week, you still hated being away from your best friends. They were like your third family besides your actual and the Potters.
You saw the back of Sirius's head as you approached him, considering he lived with the Potters.
He turned around before you could tap him, picking you up, "Happy birthday Y/n!" He said, kissing your cheek as you yelped.
"Okay, thank you, Sirius, put me down!" You giggled.
He put you down as you smoothed your clothing, "So where's Potter?' You asked.
He smirked, "Only last name? Ice cold Y/n." You didn't respond, so he assumed you were waiting for an answer, "He went to the toilets,"
You hummed, silently tapping your foot on the pavement, only hearing the ruckus around you both.
"Excited for your birthday dinner?" He asked, partly ready for the drama.
"Very," You sarcastically said.
"Hey, Mom and Dad aren't too bad," He said.
"We both know Euphemia and Fleamont aren't the Potters I despise," You muttered.
"Well, for your sake, I'll make him behave," He sent a charming smile your way.
"What would I do without you, Black?" You rolled your eyes.
"Probably be miserable," He answered, causing you to laugh.
"What are we laughing about?" James said, not even a smidge of excitement in his tone.
Your usual mad facade slipped back in as you grabbed your luggage and started heading toward the car. You could hear Sirius laughing behind you.
You saw Euphemia and Fleamont waiting by the car like they had usually done since Sixth year since James told them to stop coming inside because of his newfound "popularity."
Your face lit up immediately, excited to see two of your favorite people worldwide.
You embraced Euphemia, giving the tightest hug you could and giving Fleamont a kiss on the cheek while they asked about your studies. You could see James rolling his eyes both audibly and physically.
"Okay, Mother, I don't think Y/n likes all the questions," James said, leaning his head on the window while his father drove.
Sirius was in between the two of you, snoring asleep. Considering the train ride, you didn't even know why he was tired.
"I don't mind at all," You said, smiling as James glared at you.
You knew that Euphemia could feel the tension between you and James, but she ignored it, "So Y/n, I have made you something extraordinary." Euphemia said.
"And that is?" You asked, knowing she wouldn't tell you.
"I guess you will have to find out tonight during dinner." She sweetly said, winking at you.
You smiled to yourself, relieved your birthday wouldn't be that bad.
--
You entered the house that you had been over to so many times, admiring it fully.
"James will show you your room," Euphemia said, rubbing your back as you smiled, trying not to show your discomfort about James.
James didn't even wait for you before heading up the steps. Thankfully, he carried your luggage because he knew Euphemia would berate him.
"It's in there," He lazily said, not even opening the door before walking downstairs.
Jerk.
You grunted, lifting your heavy suitcase inside the room.
You admired the room, which looked like it was made for you. It was warm and tremendous for a guest room. It had all of your favorite colors and smells.
It was perfect.
You decided to nap before dinner, considering you had no one to talk to, and you were partly tired after the drive anyway. You knew an elf would get you when it was time.
--
"Ms." A frail voice said as your eyes fluttered open to see Dot, the Potter's elf that had been there since you had first moved in.
"Oh, hello, Dot," You spoke lightly, yawning.
"Ms. Potter tells Dot to inform you it's time for dinner," Her small voice said.
"Thank you, Dot, I appreciate it," You thanked before the elf nodded her head and apparated out.
You stretched, wearing a semi-formal dress, one of your favorites.
You headed down the stairs as you smelt the food radiating from the dining room. It was all of your favorites; it was pretty extraordinary. Ms. Potter was always the type to blow you off of your feet, regardless.
Your face lit up, "This is stunning, Ms. Potter," You looked at the glowing lights.
Euphemia smiled, "I'm glad you love it,"
You sat next to James with Sirius next to him. His face had certainly softened, but he was clenching his jaw when you sat beside him.
"Now," Euphemia started, "I know we usually do gifts after dinner, but we all had such beautiful surprises for you that we couldn't wait."
Euphemia started first, giving you one of your favorite movies since you were a kid, except the movie wasn't available anywhere.
You rose excitedly, embracing her, "How did you get this?" You asked, smiling at the CDs.
"A friend of mine is good friends with the director, and he happened to have one last copy," She answered as you excitingly hugged her before returning to your seat.
"Thank you, Ms. Potter," You looked at Euphemia, "I love it,"
She nodded before Fleamont gave you his gift. It was a beautiful crystal from Bejing.
You thanked him for the beautiful gem before Sirius offered you his gift. He gave you a perfume that smelled of fire whisky but wasn't actually fire whisky.
Part of you wanted to know how he did it, but you decided to save it for later as you thanked him, kissing him on the cheek as he cheered.
Last was James, who picked up the gift from under the table. He had looked you in the eyes, not a set of resentment in them at all.
Your breath hitched as he gave you a stuffed animal your grandfather gave you when you were nine. You had cried for a week because you had lost it and teared up when anyone mentioned it.
He gave it to you as it looked brand new and was cleaner than when you had it when you were nine.
When you pressed on the heart, it always said "I love you" in your grandfather's voice and even had your name on the collar.
You teared up, "How did you find it?"
He stuttered, "I-I found it in the treehouse in the corner,"
"I thought the treehouse was infested with Clockonuts," You said.
He laughed, "Well, I risked my life to get it back,"
Every sense of anger you had felt had disappeared; he had done something that was so out of his actions lately that it made you miss him.
"Thank you," You genuinely said.
He gave you a simple nod before you began eating. Conversations started after, talking about school.
"So, any boys, Y/n?" Euphemia asked as James dropped his fork on his plate, making a huge sound that caused you to look at him.
You cleared your throat, "Well, I am trying not to focus on that right now,"
"Except for Carrows," James muttered.
"Who's Carrows?" Euphemia asked, genuinely curious.
You took a bite of your carrot, "Um, well," You swallowed, "He's just a friend I have."
"I don't sit on my friend's laps," James scoffed, causing you to glare at him.
"Well, I don't call my friends sluts," You spat.
"James Fleamont Potter, what did you call her?" Euphemia added.
James ignored her, "Well, when your best friend is acting like one just because you don't fancy her, I think she deserves it,"
Mate-" Sirius chimed in, but you were faster.
"When have I ever fancied you?" You asked, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge.
"Y/n, you were practically obsessed with me," He ridiculed, "I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life," His face looked shocked after he said the last words.
You couldn't tell if he meant it, but it hurt you badly. All those years of friendship were fake; he couldn't tolerate you.
"That's enough!" Euphemia said; even Sirius was silent.
A tear ran down your cheek, "I'm actually not feeling well; I'm gonna go to bed." You said, placing your napkin on the plate in front of you.
You heard Euphemia berating James as you ran up to your room. In some ways, you didn't understand why James did everything he did if he hated you so much.
Why did he give you that gift? Why did he always call you and get mad when you didn't want to be his friend? Did you ever mean anything to James Potter?
And if you did, why did he have to ruin your birthday?
A/N: If you hated this, I apologize.
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Need Part 4 now đ€đ©
Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)
Sequel to Webs of Fate
Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2 K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine
Part I Part II Part III
The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.
After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasnât stopped since.
Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.
The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web theyâve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.
Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly donât say nothinâ." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"
 Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."
"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. âThe pig says, âYou have the right to remain silent!ââ
Gabrielâs face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."
Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didnât stop crying?â
Beside her Peter B. with his shaggy brown hair and five oâ clock beard just shakes his head.Â
âThis is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.â Gwen states.
In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, âHeâs still going at it?â
Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. âOh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.â
Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."
Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. âDiaper?â
Peter B. Parker nods. âClean.â
âFood?â Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.
Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. âKept smacking the spoon out my hand.â
âNap?â Jessica's questions further.
The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated âLiterally the first thing we tried.â
Pavitr smirkes at them. âJinx.â But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.
Gwen, then takes charge, âOk, we have to do something,â her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, âYou have to talk to Miguel. Youâve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.â
Jess looks hesitant but nods.
âAnd Peter,â Gwen turns to Peter B whoâs still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. âGet Maydayâs toys. Maybe the babyâs just bored.â
Peter gives a thumbs up. âYou got it, boss.â
âAnd Pav, Hobie,â Gwen instructs, her voice steady. âYou need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.â
âMargo, youâre with me, girl. We are paying our old friend Lyla a little surprise visit. Somethingâs a little fishy with her.â Margo nods eagerly.Â
As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.
Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.
"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.
 He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.
âAlright buddy, letâs figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?â Miles whispers to the baby.
Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. Heâs tried everything he can think of â makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didnât work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder.Â
In the meantime in Miguelâs office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.
âPlease, Miguel, itâs a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?â Jess exclaims, her voice rising. âDid you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know youâre not a monster.â But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.
âAnd look,â Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the babyâs cries are coming from, âthis baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.â
âI canât risk any more lives, Jess,âMiguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.
âBut what if there is another way? We havenât even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Letâs...letâs figure something out that doesnât involve.. that,â Jess pleads, her voice softening.
Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.
Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. âLyla, what are the kidâs powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.âÂ
Lylaâs synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the childâs power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."
Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.
âis inconclusive.â Jess squints at Lyla. âInconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?â
âHeâs an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,â Lyla maintains her composed tone. âComplicated how?â Jess presses on. âJust...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,â Lyla responds vaguely. âThe child is an enigma.â
"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."
For a moment, Miguelâs gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."
Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.
"DONâT. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"
Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt, flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-"Â
"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. âUntil tomorrow morning, Jess,â he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jessâ outburst. âThatâs all. You can leave now.âÂ
Thereâs a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabrielâs distant crying.
Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what youâre doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.
In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention â the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh noâŠâ
"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.
Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."
Gwen's heart skips a beat. âI knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"
Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."
Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"
"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.
Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!â
"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms.Â
"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.
"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"
Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."
Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, â Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"Â Â
"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."
Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"
Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."
"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."
Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"
"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."
Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.
Suddenly Lylaâs holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. âSo, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..."Â
 "Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguelâs lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.
Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.
His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.
âStop,â Miguel chokes out.
âApologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,âLyla retorts.
But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.
Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. âMiguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?â Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.
Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.
âLittle dude, if you stop crying promise Iâll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,â Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.
After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.
"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.
Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. âYou,â Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. âPut him downâ
Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. âI need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.
"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.
The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguelâs hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.
"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight.Â
But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.
Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth â two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.
Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.
Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguelâs neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat. Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next.Â
Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "TĂș eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazĂłn," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms.Â
"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."
Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."
"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.
"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day."Â
Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"
âbrilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la mananaâŠâ
Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time heâs feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years.Â
The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.
Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible."Â
Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence.Â
Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she wonât mind in this case."
Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.
Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?"Â
At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.
Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.
You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.
Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.
Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.
A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.
Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didnât saw that coming.
Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"
"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"
Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"
Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.
"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.
Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldnât collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."
His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"
A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."
The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.
"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.
"Wait ⊠you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."
"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, donât worry. Hes safe for now.âÂ
"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.
"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.
"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.
"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light.Â
"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.
"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.
 It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.
Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"
Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.
Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, thereâs something you need to know. Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.
Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"
Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"Â
The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.
With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.
"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last.Â
Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.
Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."
And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace
"Where's my son, OâHara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.
Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.
As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.
"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo â lo siento. I â I didnât know.â
His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.
"But...how?How didnât I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. âYour son?â Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.
âYes, MY son!â your voice echoes through the room like a whip. âDid you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?â
Miguelâs grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like itâs about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him âpieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.
âWhere is he, Miguel? Whereâs myGabriel?â your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.
âGabr...â Miguel chokes. âNo... no...â
His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."
âYou, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my â our â flesh and blood!â Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit.Â
Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. âI didnât know. I swear on my life, on Gabriellaâs memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.âÂ
Thereâs a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.
Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.
Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You donât look back.
Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesnât dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.
"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.
Part 4 "Webs of Redemption" - coming soon
Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages â they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!
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Kinkmas Day 12-Sirius Black(Voyeurism)(Blurb)
Superr sorry for this late post, but I hope you enjoy.Â
Warnings: SMUTT, Voyeurism, masturbation(fem and male).Â
Word Count:865
The party was in full swing, I was hanging with James, Remus, Lily and Dorcas. They were talking about how they think they did on their OWLS, but the only thing on my mind was a certain wizard that wasnât here yet.Â
âHave you guys seen Sirius yet?â I ask them, taking a sip of my drink, licking the remains off my top lip.Â
âNope, I think heâs still in our dorm.'' James said, throwing an arm around Lily's shoulder, she brings a hand up to join their fingers together.Â
I nodded, âI'm gonna go see if I can find him. I'll catch you guys later.â I said, waving and turning towards the boys dorm.Â
Casting a spell that lets me through, I walk up the stairs and down the hall towards the Dorm James, Remus, Sirius and Peter share.Â
As I get closer I start to hear this noise, almost like a grunting sound. Walking up towards the door, I see it cracked open so I peek through it only to see what I didnât expect.Â
Sirius is standing right in front of the full body mirror, jerking off. His head is bent down and he's letting out groans. Almost like he was frustrated.Â
I couldn't help but admire him, all of him. Especially his cock. I start to subconsciously rub my legs together.Â
I run my right hand up my side, grabbing my breast before running it back down. My hand finds its way into the hem of my skirt and panties and next thing I know, Iâm rubbing myself while watching Sirius.Â
Moving my left hand to cover my mouth, covering my moans. My right hand rubbing my clit, starting to move faster. I went to lean against the wall but accidentally hit the door making it creak.Â
My eyes go wide and I stop what Iâm doing. I slowly look up, my right hand still in my pants but not moving, to see Sirius has also paused what he was doing and was staring directly at me through the mirror.Â
We stare at each other for a minute, not one of us saying a word. I go to take my hand out of my pants when he suddenly says something.Â
âStop. Donât do that. Keep it there and come in love.â He says breathlessly, like he hasnât used his voice in a while.Â
I hesitantly push the door open, walking in and shutting it behind me. Not once breaking eye contact, I walk towards him.Â
I stop right when I'm behind him, still looking at him through the mirror.
âI want you to lay on the bed for my love. I want you to lay there and watch me touch myself. And I want you to touch yourself.â He said quietly. Slowly beginning to stroke himself again.Â
I silently walk towards the bed, and lay down, propping my head up on a couple pillows.Â
Once I'm comfortable, I look back at him and my eyes immediately go to his cock. I feel myself start to get wet again and I slowly start to rub myself again through my skirt and panties.Â
I whimper, the noise barely there but Sirius heard it and he grins. Starting to move his hand up and down his cock faster.Â
âOh merlinâ I whisper, my voice barely there. I stop myself for only a second to remove my skirt and panties before I go right back to quickly rubbing my clit.Â
I take my other hand and grab my breast, squeezing and playing with my nipple. The added stimulation makes a feeling appear in my stomach.Â
âOh Siri, I'm gonna cum baby.â I moan out.Â
He groans and throws his head back, â Me too baby, Cum for me love.â He said, releasing all over his hand and lower stomach.Â
I follow quickly after, my body shaking slightly on the bed, my back arches off and I moan loudly. Not worried if anyone can hear me because of the music playing downstairs.Â
My eyes closed, and my mouth open, I felt a hand run through my hair. I slowly open my eyes and look up to see Sirius smiling slightly.Â
âGood job love. So good.â He whispers.Â
I smile a little and shy away, turning my head a little. My cheeks blushing as he chuckles.Â
âWell I sure didnât expect this to happen when I came to find you but, Iâm not complaining.â I said once I relaxed.Â
He just laughed and shook his head.Â
âWell I obviously didnât expect this to happen either but now that it did, it gives me some confidence to ask you out.âHe said, sitting on the bed, right next to me.Â
I sit up and raise an eyebrow, âAsk me out?â I question him.
He nods and leans slightly forwards, grabbing my face with both hands.Â
âYeah, ask you out. What do you say lovely, wanna go out with me?â He quietly asks me, his thumbs softly rubbing my face.Â
I stare at him for a moment before smiling wide and nodding my head.Â
âYeah, I'll go out with you.â I whisper to him, leaning forward and connecting our lips.Â
#sirius x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black smut#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black x y/n#harry potter fanfiction
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Kinkmas Day 11:Ron Weasley(Edging)(Blurb)
I am so so so sorry this is super late but I do hope you enjoy. I also am sorry it is so short, didnât really have an idea for this one.Â
Warnings: SMUTT, Edging, fingering, marking.Â
Word Count: 292
âPlease please please pleaseeeâ I whined as Ron edged me for what felt like the 1000th time but was really only the third.Â
âHmmm, I donât know. Youâve been a bit of a brat today.â He said, slowly moving his finger inside of me.Â
He places a couple kisses on the inside of my thigh, sucking here and there, leaving a few marks.Â
âI'm sorry Ronnie, I wonât ever do it again! Please baby!â I beg, my legs shaking from having the feeling of needing to cum but not having enough stimulation.Â
He bites his lip and closes his eyes for a second, like he's thinking about it before, looking back down at me.Â
âOk, fineâ he sighs, shaking his head slightly.Â
âBut if this ever happens againâŠIâm not gonna let you cum for a week. This is just a warning love.â He said, starting to move his fingers faster in me.
âOH MERLIN!â I shouted, cuming not even a second later from being edged so much.Â
He leans down, placing kisses on my thighs. Beginning to slow his fingers down again, helping me come down from my orgasm.Â
Once I've settled and my breath has evened slightly, he slowly removes his fingers. He sits up and looks down at me.Â
I look up at him and smile sleepily, letting out a yawn. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little.Â
âOh are you tired baby?â he asked, almost in a mocking tone.Â
I nodded slowly. Moving my arms from my sides to rest on my stomach.Â
He chuckles lightly, âWell that's too bad. We arenât even done yet.â He said, leaning up on his knees to unbuckle his belt.Â
âNow get on your knees baby and open that pretty mouthâ
#Ron Weasley#ron wealsey x y/n#ronald weasley#ron weasley smut#ron weasley imagine#harry potter fanfiction#ron weasley fanfiction
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Kinkmas Day 10-Draco Malfoy x reader(Voice Kink)(Blurb)
Warnings: Sleepy Draco, soft morning sex, cowgirl, kissing, marking.Â
(I apologize for this being late asf, but I do hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!)
âHey, Drayâ I nudge him, he hmmâs and rolls over, his back facing me.Â
I roll my eyes, and I lean over his body a little, my arms on his right arm. I rest my head on my arms and look at his side profile for a second. Taking my finger and lightly running it down the side of his face.Â
His nose twitches and he groans, âDraco.â I whisper his name, hoping to slowly ease him out of sleep.
He hums again, and slowly begins to open his eyes, blinking slowly to fix his vision. When he finally looks at me, I'm just staring at him. A smile on my face.
âGood Morning my love. We have 40 minutes till class and if we donât get up now, we wonât have time for breakfast.â I told him, sitting back up. And taking out my messy bun, running my fingers through my hair contemplating if I need a shower or if it can wait until after classes.Â
âI think I'm gonna skip breakfast this morning darling and sleep for an extra 20 minutes.â He mumbles, his voice soft and deep.Â
I pause what I'm doing, and look at him, he's staring at me with sleepy eyes and a small smile.Â
I smile back and lean down, my face over his, âMerlin I love your morning voice.â I tell him, placing a small kiss on his lips before sitting back up to get out of bed.Â
Iâm about to stand up when I feel him tug my hair, pulling me back down and earning a squeak from me.Â
âNow hold on now baby, you can say that and then just go about your day. Now you got me thinking about things and If we both want to have a good day, then we can have a quickie.â He says, pulling me into a kiss.Â
I smile into the kiss and slowly climb on top of him. âJust a quick one. We have thirty mins till class and I at least want some toast.â I said, pulling his pants down a little till his cock pops out and I move my panties to the side.Â
I slowly lowered myself onto him, we both let out small moans. I lean down to kiss him again, moving my hips slowly back and forth. He moves his hands to grip my waist, moving me a tad bit faster but not too fast.Â
I move my lips to the side of his neck, right below his ear and I suck, knowing that's the spot that gets him there and that heâll walk around later with a hickey on his neck all proud.Â
I start to feel my stomach turn and next thing I know, I'm cumming on his cock. My body shakes slightly as I lay on top of him. He continues to thrust into me slowly, reaching his orgasm only a second laters.Â
He kisses my temple and runs a hand down my hair, âThat was great baby, Merlins I love you so much.â He said, lifting my head up to give me a kiss. It was slow but passionate, perfect for this moment right here.Â
I smile and look at him, moving my arms to rest on his chest and my chin to rest on my arms.Â
âI love you tooâ
#draco#draco malfoy fanfiction#Draco Malfoy#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy x reader#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy x female reader
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Kinkmas Day 9-Pansy Parkinson(Body Woreship)(Blurb)
(Sorry this is so late and so short but, here it is.)
TW: Hair Pulling, Butt grabbing? But besides that none really, I know its Kinkmas but I didnât really have an Idea for this one so.Â
Word Count: 138
She runs her hands up my body, slowly going over my curves. Stopping at my breasts to give them a quick squeeze before she moves them up to my face.Â
She holds my face in her hands and leans in, giving me a long kiss. Biting my lip as she pulls away.Â
âIâm loving this body baby.â She said, My eyes begin to close as she runs her hands through my hair.Â
All of a sudden I feel a tug and my eyes open, she looks at me with a sparkle in her eyes.
âThis is my body, baby, mine. And only Iâm allowed to see it.â She says, pulling me in for another kiss, running her right hand down my back until he grabs my butt, pulling me closer to her.Â
Yup, sheâs mine and I'm hers.
#pansy parkinson x you#pansy parkinson x reader#smut#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#pansy parkinson#pansy parkinson smut
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Kinkmas day 8-Harry Potter(Praise Kink)
(I apologies for how late this is but I do hope you enjoy. I didnât really have an idea on what to do, I just started writing and got a bit carried away.)
TW: SMUT!! Praise Kink, Rubbing, marking. Pet names(Good girl, Lovely, darling)
Word Count: 1151
Sitting in the great hall, going over my potions homework. Harry walks over with Ron and sits down next to me.Â
âWhat do you have there Lovely?â He asks, snatching my paper from under my hands.Â
âHarry give it back! I'm going over my positions homework.â I said, trying to snatch it back.Â
He kept moving it out of my reach, looking at it. âThis ones wrong, change it to Pepperup potion not Polyjuice.â He said, handing it back to me and grabbing a piece of bread from the basket in front of him.Â
I use my wand to erase it and then rewrite Pepperup instead of Polyjuice. I nudge him to look over it once more.Â
He nods and gives my forehead a quick kiss, âGood girlâ He says, turning to Ron to talk about the next quidditch match on Friday.Â
I freeze hearing him call me that, my cheeks turn pink and I look away from them, hiding my face in my hands.
 I feel a hand on my back, âYou alright lovely?â He asks.
I just nod and grab my stuff.Â
âYes, the bell is going to ring though so Iâm gonna head to my next lesson. See you lads at lunch.â I tell them, leaning down to quickly kiss Harryâs cheek.Â
He smiles and gives me a small wave as I walk away. I wave back and leave the great hall. I walk into the girls bathroom and go into a stall, leaning against the wall and sliding down.Â
Why did I pause when Harry called me Good Girl?! Oh Gosh! Did I like it?
I shake my head and take a few deep breaths and stand back up. I exit the stall and go to the sink to wash my hands.Â
Drying my hands, I shake my head once more, and settle on a decision.Â
I definitely DO NOT like it when he calls me Good Girl, I was just shocked.Â
*Later after classes in the common room*
I sat with the trio in the common room going over Trelawney's homework.Â
âOk ok, who got B for question 4?â I ask.Â
âI got Câ Said Mione as Ron and Harry agreed with her.Â
âHmm, damn okay. I guess I'll change it.â I laughed and changed it to C.Â
Harry Leaned over the couch to where I sat on the floor and double checked it. Once he did a quick lookover, he nodded and patted my head.Â
âNice job Darling.â He said, leaning back and looked over at Ronâs.Â
I pause mid stroke and take a shaky breath. Shit! I do like it! Oh god. I start to feel this feeling in my stomach and I know what it is.Â
My eyes widen and I accidentally grab Harry's leg. He looks at me and sees my expression.Â
Leaning over he quietly asks, âYou alright Darling?â
I Just nod and blush and look down at my hands.Â
âYou sure?â He asks, double checking.Â
I nod again and give him my best smile.Â
I grab my stuff and stand up, âIâm actually not really feeling good guys so I'm gonna head up to bed. I'll see you tomorrow.â I said, putting my bag over my shoulders and giving Harry a quick kiss on his hair.Â
I smile at everyone and make my way up the stairs to my dorm.Â
*Harryâs POV*
Sheâs been acting weird since snacking earlier. I wonder if she's ok. Going to get back to work, I spot sheâs left her quill. I bend over to grab it.Â
âHey guys, Y/n left her quill. I'm gonna go give it to her real quick.â I said to them standing up.Â
All I get is a nod and a quiet okay before I make my way up the stairs to her dorm.Â
Before I am able to knock, I hear a groan from inside, my eyes widen thinking she's in pain so I knock. A couple seconds go by before nothing happens and so I knock one more time.Â
She still doesnât answer so I just walk in. And what I see is something I didnât expect.Â
Y/n, is laying there, with her hand down her panties and a hand up her shirt.Â
Smirking and leaning against the door frame I think, this must be why she wasnât âfeeling goodâ earlier.Â
âOh Harry.â She mutters but I hear it and smirk more.Â
Waiting a couple more minutes, I decided to make myself known.Â
âThinking of me Lovely?â I ask.Â
Her eyes open wide and she sits up so fast, she feels dizzy, putting her hand up to hold her head for a second before looking at me with wide eyes. She looks like a deer in headlights.Â
âI-I was justâ She stutters, speechless.Â
âWas just thinking of me? This was why you were weird all day huh. Thinking of me, doing things to you.â I tease her, slowly walking towards her.Â
She doesnât say anything, just stares at me. I raise my eyebrows.Â
I lightly grip her jaw, âIsnât it darling?â I ask a bit more sternly.Â
She nods, âYes sirâ She whispers.Â
âMmm good girl.â I say and she arches her back a bit. The smirk that's still on my face widens a bit as I realize why she's this way in the first place.Â
She must have noticed I noticed because she blushes and tries to look away but my hand is still gripping her jaw.Â
âNo need to be shy. I think it's cute that all it takes for you to get like this is to be called a good girl. My good girl.â I said.Â
She whimpers and rubs her legs together. I look down and see a little wet spot on her panties.Â
Letting go of her jaw, I sit next to her on the bed. Her eyes follow my hand as I grab her leg and put it over mine, opening her up for me.Â
I move my hand slightly over her panties, and start to rub over her clit. She moans and I know she's already close from before I got there.Â
I lean towards her next and start to press kisses on her neck, sucking on a spot I know she likes.Â
My fingers start to rub faster. Her hips start to buck and then a second later she lets go.Â
She grabs my thigh, pulling at my pants. Her eyes are closed and she looks blissful.Â
I finally stop and just place a couple kisses on her neck to help to relax and calm down.Â
She can finally breathe normally again and tunes to look at me. Giving me a look.Â
I smirk, about to open my mouth but she interrupts me.Â
âNo! We are not gonna talk about it.â She said, crossing her arms.Â
I laugh and pull her towards me, kissing her slightly chapped lips.Â
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Kinkmas Day 7-Hermione Granger(Stockings)
TW: Stockings, slight choking, eating out, fingering. (That's it I believe but if I missed any, lemme know! Also sorry this is super late, I've been last but I hope you enjoy!)
Word Count:564
Sitting next to Mione at Slughorn's dinner is proving to be not as boring as I thought. My hand is on her thigh and hers is on mine.Â
Listening to Slughornâs talking is making me sleepy. My eyes slowly begin to close before I felt a squeeze on my thigh,Â
I sat up abruptly and looked at Hermione. She continues to sip her drink but I stare at her with a questioning look.Â
I turn back to my food only to see everyone looking at me. My cheeks turned red and I looked down.
âYou know, Thank you for dinner Professor but Y/n isnât feeling too well so I am going to take her back to our dorm.â She said quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me from my seat.Â
I say a quick thank you and follow after her.Â
âWhat was that Mione?!â I ask her, confused.Â
She drags me in the dorm and closes the door, using her want to lock the door.Â
She pushes me on the bed and lifts my dress up.Â
Running her hands up my thighs, she hooks her hands around my stockings, pulling them down.Â
âHermione. What are you-gggâ I start to say before she shoves my stocking in my mouth.
âYou keep those there darling, I wanna eat you in peace.â She says before leaning forward and giving my pussy a quick kiss.Â
My eyes roll back and my back arches off the bed and she begins to suck. Swirling her tongue over my clit.Â
My hands go to her hair and pull slightly. She pushed her head in more, shaking it side to side slightly, her nose nudging my clit every so often.Â
I move up, slightly choking on the stockings. I take them out of my mouth and throw them on the floor next to us to be dealt with later.Â
âO-Oh Merlin!â I mutter. I feel her chuckle against me before I feel a finger prod my hole.Â
âMione!â I said, as she put her middle finger in me, slowly thrusting as she continued to suck. I feel my orgasm build quickly. My legs start to shake and next thing I know, My legs clamp around her head and I'm cumming all over her face.Â
Pulling her finger out, she grabs my legs, pulling them apart and continues to lick my pussy, letting me come down from what just happened.Â
When she sits up, she uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth and she smiles.Â
âThanks for that lovely. I really needed it after seeing you in that dress all night and not being able to do anything.â She said leaning over me.Â
I get up onto my elbows, still breathing heavily and smile sleepily.
âYouâre welcome baby. But that turn of events made me tired so can we please sleep?â I ask her and she gets up and heads to my dresser.Â
âYes, let's change into our pajamas and then we can go to sleepâ She said walking back over with my Pjâs in her hand.Â
We quickly change and then get under the covers. I lean my head on her chest as she runs her fingers through my hair.Â
âI love you my sweet girl.â She mutters quietly. I hmm back, too tired to speak, but she knows I heard and she knows I love her back.Â
#hermione granger#hermione granger x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#smut#hermione smut#hermione granger smut#hermione fic#hermione x you
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Kinkmas Day 6-Nancy Wheeler(Thigh Riding)(Blurb)
TW: SMUT!! Thigh Riding. (That litterally all there is, lol)
 Word Count:215
(Absolutely no plot whatsoever. Just a little blurb because Iâm not a very big fan of Nancy. Lol Sorryy!! Still hope y'all enjoy though. Also sorry it's super late. Iâve been lazy lately)
âThere we go honeyâ She says softly, running her hand over my back.Â
My pussy rubbing on her leg, her bare leg slightly bouncing to add pressure.Â
I moan softly, biting my lip, starting to move my hips faster. I feel my orgasm approaching fastly.Â
She tugs my hair back lightly. Forcing me to look at her.Â
âLook at me honey, there we go.â She says, nodding slightly and rubbing her hands up and down my legs to encourage me.Â
âCum all over my legs baby, Come on.â She said, Leaning forward and lightly putting her lips on mine, giving me a small kiss.Â
I arch my back, my head lolling back and I let out a low moan. Cumming all over her legs.Â
She continues to rub her hands up and down my legs to soothe me from my orgasm.Â
I slowly come to a stop, my breathing ragged. I lean forward, resting my head on her shoulder.Â
She takes a hand and runs him over my hair, placing a small kiss on my hair.Â
âSo good honeyâŠso good.â She whispered.Â
#nancy wheeler#nancy wheeler smut#stranger things fanfiction#nancy stranger things#nancy wheeler x y/n#nancy wheeler x you#smut
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