#soft!miguel

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3

Part 8

Miguel usually starts his day off by preparing a dark cup of coffee immediately after finally peeling himself out the bed. With droopy eyes and a five o’clock shadow, his husky figure stumbles into the kitchen, thirsty for caffeine. As he waits for the machine to do its magic, he’ll maybe run his hand through his dark, peppered, slept-on hair or take a moment to clean his glasses with the fibers of his sweats. Once the cup is prepared, the fresh scent of grinded coffee beans in the air, he’ll lean against his kitchen counter, sipping happily from his world’s best brain mug. He’ll relax for a moment, thinking about the material he’s planned for the day. Once he’s done, he’ll wash his cup, and start getting ready.

He left the suit about three years ago, taking up the job as professor of genetics and biochemistry at around the same time.

He’s been happy with his life here. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. It’s simple. Everything he wanted. All the domesticity that was missing in his life had been rediscovered once he hung the mask. It’s been the best decision he’s ever made.

He didn’t think things could get better until you came along. This gorgeous, smart, funny, sweet person that had him wrapped around their finger. And given his stature and age, he never would have thought you’d fallen, too.

So this morning looks a little different, and every morning since he’s met you, for that matter.

Miguel gets up from bed faster now, with you on his mind. Once he makes his way into the kitchen for his fix of coffee, he’s reminded of the dream, possibly a pornographic one, he had about you. He’s like a horny teenager all over again, with an ache between his legs that, now, only you can inflict on him, and it’s there every morning.

Miguel now uses the time that it takes for the coffee to drip to shoot you a good morning text, accompanied by multiple heart emojis. And of course, he takes a little longer to get ready in the mornings just because he wants to make sure he looks his absolute best for you.

Today, while sipping on his café, he remembers the conversation you two had. It was when you two had gone to his office after the library. And then he remembered the things he shared with you about his past life; how amazingly you took the dump of lore. Only a higher power would know what anyone else would’ve done or said after hearing things like that. He smiles to himself as he thinks about your one and only question/response to it all:

“Are you happy?”

The response itself was all that he needed to see if his feelings for you were valid, and these feelings have become the strongest thus far. Miguel doesn’t want to jinx it, but he thinks what he’s feeling is something a tad bit more serious than a simple crush, and that both excites and terrifies him.

While he gets ready for the day, he then thinks about the conversation prior to that. He meant everything he said last night about not having sex, but at the same time, he would want nothing more than to show you how much of a good man he can be to you, both in daily life and in bed. Even though he’s hard at the very thought of you, he also wants you to feel safe more than anything. Being with you is far more important than the needs of his dick.

The fact that you’re his student also sort of weighs in as well. Getting caught in a professor/student scandal on the last week of classes before you receive your masters would be disastrous. Thankfully (and surprisingly), no one has been suspicious of y’all this semester.

Honestly, Miguel is just looking forward to Summer, because for him, that means he gets to take you out and enjoy you every chance he gets.

<3

For the last few days of classes, you tend to your exams and Miguel busies himself with his own work. You guys haven’t really been with each other, with the exception of passing each other in the halls. It hasn’t been easy on you at all, and even more so on Miguel. Let’s just say his office door has been spending more time locked than unlocked, and not to score papers. Thankfully, the walls are thick.

The day you take Miguel’s exam is the very last day of classes, and at this point, both of you are antsy to not only see but just feel each other. The tension in the air is thick, the text messages have become spicier, and on multiple occasions have the phone calls been so close to just becoming pure phone sex, but you and Miguel had to keep your distance. Just for this week, and afterward, y’all can do anything you desired. For now, you have to settle for the small touches and occasional eye contact during the exam.

That night when he dropped you off at your place, you half joked about him giving you a perfect score purely out of bias.

“I would never. I take my exams very seriously, for your information.” He responded smugly, his hairy forearm on the door of his car where the window would be. “Besides, you’re far too smart for that.“ His voice softens toward the end of his sentence, that lovesick smile he always gawks at you with on his face.

“I’m serious, Mig. I want an accurate grade.” You match his volume, leaning down onto the car window, face to face with him.

“Mama, I promise. I’m sure you’ll get a perfect score anyways, but on the off chance that you don’t,” he leans closer to, his breath on yours, “Maybe I’ll just have to give you more private sessions during the Summer.” You chuckle against his lips once they meet yours.

“You’re such a horndog.” The words are muffled by his lips and tongue. “Only for you.” He mumbles, unable to keep his mouth off of yours. Miguel really was hot n bothered by you all the time, but honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s your little loser after all.

The glances and “accidental” brushing of hands had definitely occurred before and during the exam. Emotionally, it kind of took y’all back to the beginning of the semester, when the feelings were first bubbling. Alas, you had to stay focused. Compared to your peers, you practically flying through it. Even though you spent half the time mingling during them (and making out), the tutoring actually helped in the end.

When it was time to submit your exam, you gave him a knowing look. All Miguel does is give you a smile, but one that was genuine and sweet. One that reassured you in the sentiment that he was going to score you accurately.

At the end of the day, you didn’t even care about what score you got, as long as Miguel nor you get in trouble. That’s all that mattered to you.

<3

It’s later in the day, and you’re in your dorm. Tomorrow is your big day. The day you walk along the stage and take your master’s in your hand; physical proof of your knowledge and hardwork. You were also thinking about Miguel and what he’s up to, but what’s new.

You were thinking about how after your graduation, Miguel will no longer be your professor and you his student. You would just be two people who were absolutely crazy about each other, and you were looking forward to that.

You get a text from Miguel.

Missing my baby. Just thinking of you.

Aw, I miss my big teddy bear, too. What you up to?

Finished about 30% of these papers. Need to take a break, though. What if I came and picked you up?

And go where?

Home

I’m already at home, ya goof

I mean my home, but you absolutely don’t have to. We could go to the library or whatever you want.

No! I’d love to come over.

You sure?

Of course, I wanna see what other books I can steal from you

Only in this for the books, I see. Ouch.

Don’t be dramatic, you know that’s not true

Do I?

You gonna pick me up or not?

Putting my shoes on.

He had you kicking your feet. You were unsure if it was a good idea, but that didn’t stop it from being an extremely enticing one. You were just worried about someone seeing you enter his home, but otherwise, you would love to see where he lives, despite making the deal about not seeing each other until after graduation. This whole time, you’ve only gotten familiar with his office, and that’s only one small part of him. You just couldn’t wait any longer to be near him, and besides, classes are technically over.

<3

“So you’re half spider?” You and Miguel relax in his living room. You scour his book shelves while he makes you a drink. His place is exactly how you imagined it. It’s a balance of sharp and cozy, like him.

“I know, not the most exciting of confessions.” Miguel’s sarcasm seeps through his speech and it makes you huff. Such a sass master.

“I’m being for real. I think that’s amazing and all, but I’m glad you chose to leave that life.” Your eyes are still on the spines of his books when you start to hear heavy footsteps coming your way. He’s just as excited to be near you as you are, if not, more.

“Me, too,” Miguel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss on your head, “or else I would’ve never met you.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” You playfully comment, getting on your tip toes to kiss him, his pouch rumbling against your torso from his chuckling. “Definitely. Without you, I was starting to lead on a pretty lame life.” Miguel humored at himself. He knew that although going to teach classes, returning back home, and repeat was a pretty peaceful routine, he also knew it could be a boring one at times.

You lean your head back in exaggerated astonishment, “Why would you say that? You’re the coolest person I know, and not because you were spider-man,” you run your hands up and down his chest as you list off his cool factors, “You’re a genius, you’re a family man, you’re funny, you’re also an Austen man, what more could I ask for?”

Miguel looks down at you, his muse, his angel, his everything. “Thanks, mamita. I’m proud to be your choice. Making me feel like the luckiest man in the universe.” You’re enjoying this little romantic banter between you two, and Miguel loves it.

“However, that last one is a secret between us. Can’t have people knowing that their exSpider-Man enjoys classic literature.”

“Speaking of which, have you gotten to the end of pride and prejudice?” You take his hand and lead him to the couch where you both plop down and find a good cuddle position. Miguel is the perfect amount of warmth even though he wore nothing but sweats, meaning his dad build was out in all of its glory. It took everything in you not to pounce on him. Miguel wasn’t much help either. When he’s sitting down and you’re sitting in between his legs and he brings you in close to him to hug you. He’s all kissing your neck and playing with the waistband of your pants with his hand because truly he wants to eat you out so so so bad and is extremely so hard by the intimacy, but he knows tonight is not the night, and so did you.

“I’m not finished yet, but I’m close.” He mumbles against your skin. Miguel was always a master of flipping your switch, this time using the smacking of his plump lips against your supple skin, claiming your neck, shoulders, and jaw as his.

“Mm… y’know what would be a great idea?” you manage to get out.

Miguel stops what he’s doing and braces himself. “Oh God. What?”

“If you read whatever you have left of the book to me.”

“You want me to read it? Out loud?” Miguel finds this cute. You nod your head eagerly, and Miguel was absolutely cooed by the request. “Like I’ve said millions of times before, I love the sound of your voice.”

“Para ti? Claro Que si, mi vida.” And so he went and grabbed the book and his glasses, settling back into his position under you, and began reading in his soft, silky voice. You listened intently, the words falling right out of his mouth, making music to your ears. For Miguel, this was an honor. He’ll take glances down at you and see that you’re in total awe of him, latching onto every word he recites. He hadn’t done something like this since, well, Gabriella.

This is the life he wanted. The life he had been living the past three years had served him well, but Miguel felt it. He felt it was time for another chapter. He was so certain. He’s decided he wants this every night.

Miguel reads on, simultaneously rehearsing what he’ll say in his head. The themes of newfound love and romance of the book was inspiring him. It made the scene all too perfect for the both of you. He then takes a long pause on a page. You can feel his belly hitch. “Everything alright?” You ask softly. “I’m okay. More than okay.” He sounds as though he might get emotional.

Miguel looks away from the book and into your eyes, putting the novel down. You two are in his home, on his couch, cuddling with a book, and the school year has come to an end. Miguel needs to say something and feels it’s time to share it. It’s now or never.

“You,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes shining, breath steadying,

“I love you.”

The words send your heart rate to oblivion.

“W-what?”

“I love you.” Miguel says this so matter of factly, like he’s never been so sure of something in his life.

You had to make sure what you heard matched what he said and it did. You’ve wondered when he would say it. You would’ve been fine had he done so on the first date! You only have one response to this, and tears well up in your eyes before you can say it, “I love you, too.” You attack Miguel with kisses, and both of you relish in this monumental moment in your blossoming relationship. You’ve finally found the prince to your fairytale.

“I adore you”, “I worship you”, “I’m so proud of you,” and more “I love you”s fall from Miguel’s lips, making the tears well up in your eyes again and your heart swell even more.

Miguel continues to read for you, savoring the special memory you both will now share for a very long time. Sometimes, he’ll just stop mid paragraph just to say it to you again, that he loves you, and you say it back. Both of you are giddy little kids, telling each other how much you love the other, trying to one up each other like it’s a contest. At some point, you can feel yourself start to fall, and Miguel sees it, but he proceeds with the story. The mixture of his lulling voice and the soothing sensation of his rising and falling tummy was the perfect combo for sleep. Once you’re completely out, Miguel turns off the lights by voice command, and lays a blanket over you. He holds you tight against him, as if you could disappear at any moment, and plants a kiss lovingly on your forehead. He whispers ‘te amo, mi vida’ before slumber takes him over as well.

<3

You can feel a light gently shed on your eyelids. You’re not fully conscious yet, drifting between the states of awake and asleep.

Your fingers flicker with life, and you think you feel something rough. Your eyes crack and you’re met with a blurred figure. Your vision focuses and you make out a face, your fingers lingering on the jaw. Your lips curl at this face. The closest thing in view is a pair of dark lips, parted and inspiring deep, low snores. Taking account of their breath, you feel the inhaling and exhaling of his stomach against your front side. You lift your head slightly to get a better view of the person you currently lay on top of. Tousled black hair, dark eye lashes that ornament sleeping eyes, thick brows lacking the tension creases that would otherwise be there, and some missing glasses, which now sit on a side table. The sight was sweet enough to make the coldest heart melt. You take a moment to just observe his breathing, his relaxed state, and start leaving small, ghostly caresses on his face, absorbing each line and shape of his rugged complexion. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. You wanna stay in it forever. The outside world finally makes its presence known with a few chirps of birds, and your attention goes to a window and that’s when it hits you: you’re still in Miguel’s place, and you both had fallen asleep on his couch. At last, you gain enough consciousness to realize that, for the entirety of the night, you had been held the same way a child holds their most beloved teddy bear by your exprofessor, now lover.

No, you two didn’t have sex, just like how it had been discussed a few days ago. You were both still clothed, yet, somehow, this feels even more intimate than when y’all eat each other’s faces.

Your attention is stolen back by the snores of the man below you, which makes you stifle laughter. You could honestly lay there watching him for hours. Your eyes glazed over every inch to ingrain the perfect mental image of this soft moment.

A few more seconds pass by before his snoring pattern comes to an abrupt halt and his eyes flutter open, landing on you. His watch goes off in a small, irritable beep. His tired eyes lift as he smiles at the view, despite the noise. This was something that he’s dreamt of waking up to every day.

“G’morning, sleeping beauty,” you softly speak, leaning down for a kiss on his forehead, “You sleep good?” Your voice is sweet, the moment seconds before leaving it honey-like.

“Morning,” his hands that wrapped around your waist unravel and rub your back, “Mhm. like a baby. Don’t think I’ve slept like that in… well, ever.” An early raspiness spills from his lips and its deep enough to make your insides flutter. “Me too.” You reply, gazing into each other’s eyes before sharing one or two good morning kisses on the lips, the second one lingering a couple seconds longer.

“Can you confirm something for me?” You continue, and Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Was I dreaming or did you say the L-word to me last night?” A giggle leaves Miguel’s mouth. “Yeah, I did, and I’ll say it again.” He says in his low voice. You grin ear to ear, bodies glued together as if they were merging into one. His hands come up to your face tenderly, and with pride, he confesses again,

“I love you.”

A/n: I’m back girlies, did u miss me?

<3Taggies<3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni

[imagineredwood]

25. Finding comfort in their scent

These prompts are making me so soft 🥲

Miguel sighed as he leaned back against the headboard, eyes strained, head pounding. He'd been pouring over this paperwork for nearly two hours and he was beat. New land developments came with a lot of permits and contracts and he'd neglected them yesterday when he should've had them done by now.

He had been with you though.

He'd had his day all planned out, Nestor aware of the time schedule and making arrangements.

And then it had all gone out the window when you had called, your voice cheery and hopeful.

"Hey! Do you want to come with me to that farm today? Maybe feed the little goats and get some veggies?"

Did he want to be outside smelling animals and tossing feed to them? No, not really. But he did want to be with you, in any way he could, so yeah. If that was what you wanted, then that was what he wanted too.

And he'd gone. Spent the entire day with you, rifling through the piles to find the perfect bell peppers and holding your bucket while you scattered feed for the little animals. Watching you as you laughed and grinned, interacting with the livestock. And he'd loved every second of it. Whatever this was, it had started as a friendship, and maybe you still thought it to be.

But it was more for Miguel now. He was falling in love with you. He'd tried to convince himself that he wasn't. That he simply enjoyed your company. Eager to have a friend who had no idea who he was or what he did. Just someone who enjoyed spending time with him. He swore he'd never do it again after his divorce, but here he was. Enamored with you and all that you were.

He looked over to the side of the bed, down at the cardigan you had bought him at the market attached to the farm. He smiled and grabbed it, holding it in his hands as he sat there before lifting it up to get a better look at it. The motion wafted your scent towards him and he took it in, closing his eyes as he felt it soothe him.

You had clutched it to your chest the entire time you both had walked around, not wanting to drop it or put it in the basket with the produce. Now it smelled just like you, and Miguel chuckled at himself as the thought crossed his mind that maybe he wouldn't wear it, so it would continue to smell like you.

And he knew then that he was done for. He dropped the gift down into his lap and reached for his phone, hoping that he wouldn't wake you. The line rang twice and he smiled as soon as your voice came through.

"Hey."

"Hey. What are you doing tomorrow?"

General taglist (tagged in all work)

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95

@cruzwalters @myakai13 l @lyly00 @Zsakaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady @choochoo284 @whitetxilwxlf @ravennaortiz @flowercrowns-goodvibes

Mayans MC taglist 

@dazzledamazon  @briana-mishell24 @wrcn9fvlcver @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @appropriate-writers-name @blessedboo @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @redpoodlern @myakai13 @cruzwalters @po3ticb3auty @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @carma-fanficaddict

[yournextbimbogf]

Can we get a miguel x chubby reader smut + fluff headcannons? btw i love ur fics!

thank you so much anon ur the best actually 😢 btw im kinda like chubby reader kinda i got a pudge loll. I also got this spanish from google translate (ntm now bc i wanna blow my brains out) but it might not be accurate so uh yeah but like🧍🏽‍♀️ and look at his fangs🤤

🕷️ Miguel would definitely love your pudgy tummy. It’s so soft and squishy what’s there not to like it?

🕷️ Miguel would reassure you about your body even if your insecure about it.

“Querida, i love your belly.”

“God your thighs are soft amõr.”

“Your ass is perfect whats so wrong about it hm?”

🕷️ Miguel loves to see you ride him desperately. Pushing yourself on his cock, panting, your tits jiggling with every bounce, your belly jerk every time you push down onto him.

🕷️ Miguel loves to cuddle you and lay his head on your soft thighs. Whenever he’s stressed he just places his head onto your thighs while you play with his soft curly hair.

🕷️ Miguel is obsessed with eating your pussy. He can be on the brink of death and would still wanna eat your pussy. He love the sight of your face scrunching and twisting in pleasure as you cum again and again into his mouth.

“One more for me Princesa. I know your cunt can take more right?”

🕷️ Miguel fawns over you when you wear skirts or any shorts that hugs your ass. He gets rock hard thinking of pounding you right then and there.

“Es como si quisieras que te folle amõr.”

(Its like you want me to fuck you, love.)

“Miguel it’s hot—“

🕷️ Miguel will definitely put hickeys on your neck and inner thighs. You can never leave the house without his marks. i mean he has to prove your his someway right?

🕷️ Miguel would get jealous If you guys are anywhere and he catches any guy staring at you he will instantly pull you into a bathroom or a private place to throat fuck you.

“Parece que quieres montar un espectáculo, ¿verdad?”

¿Quieres que ��l me vea correrme dentro de tu garganta?”

(It sounds like you want to put on a show, right? Do you want him to see me cum inside your throat?)

🕷️ Miguel drools when you wear those cute sundresses for him, he loves to feed you different fruits. He watches you eat the fruit as you both chuckle at the juice dripping slowly down your chin.

Miguel loves you and loves you fully <33.

and like i said i did say i would tag u so here u go mh its headcannons sadly tho cause im lazy :((

@chiwhorei

[floatmeintothesun]

NSFW; MINORS DNI

Thinking abt sensitive fem!reader who insists that she’s perfectly fine with being degraded, she wants it to happen, wants to experience what it feels like with Miguel. He’s hesitant, he dislikes saying things like that to his significant other even during sex but he does want her to explore on what she does and doesn’t like.

He’s splitting her open on his thick length slowly, her nestled firmly in his lap, his chest flush to her back. She’s squirming, gasping and trying to adjust as he carefully sinks into her, inch by inch.

“Poor baby,” he croons in her ear, big hands playing with her breasts, “dumb little whore can’t take all of my big cock, huh?” His hips snap up cruely, shoving the rest of himself deeper. She’s whimpering while he mumbles filthy shit like “you’re such a stupid bitch, can’t think when your insides are getting stuffed like this, yeah?” and “Want my cum? You'll have to beg for it, fuckin' slut" and all kinds of other mean stuff and she just cant help it :(.

She bursts into tears, sniffling and trying to wipe them away bc she’s trying to have a good time, but it’s all just getting really overwhelming. Miguel notices instantly — of course he does. He's immediately all over her, asking if she's okay, if she needs him to stop and pull out before she just shakes her head and tells him that it was just too much. he asks her what she wants to do for the rest of the night and she just asks him to be sweet.

sweet. he can do that.

he ends up spending the rest of the night pampering her thoroughly, making sure that she feels good and putting his own feelings second. soothing quiet moans with kisses, large palms holding her securely, gently -- anything she wants. miguel is nothing if not a thorough man, giving his gorgeous girl whatever she wants, however she wants. although, granted that doesn't mean he doesn't get off from watching her pretty face contort with pleasure.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 23

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Miguel continues to work on his physical boundaries. You find yourself in an unexpected, stressful, and unwanted situation; and Miguel tries to be supportive despite his own feelings. Word Count: 11.5k Warnings: time skip from New Year's; little flashback to NYE; some Spanish Music: "Cuando Vuelva a Tu Lado" - Eydie Gormé, Los Panchos (for the end scene 🥹)

Part 23

Fireworks covered the night sky. Music and happy conversations filled the air. Delicious food was made, shared, and enjoyed by eager party attenders on New Year’s Eve.

Like the previous year, your group of friends and you stood on a rooftop in Miles’s universe to celebrate the festivities since his parents invited everyone once again.

The fact that this was the second year he spent in another universe to welcome the new year didn’t escape Miguel as he stood on the same rooftop, surrounded by friends. The realization wasn’t negative, of course. He could’ve been in any other universe and it wouldn’t have matter as long as his best friend stood next to him; as long as you were there.

Standing on the same rooftop where only a year before you shedded happy tears, which Miguel tenderly wiped away with his scarf, Miguel and you welcomed the new year. While the others either hugged or kissed, or both, the two of you had your own moment when the clock struck midnight.

Amongst the cheering and loud fireworks, you gazed at Miguel and spotted the plastic crown with ‘Happy New Year’ on it that Mr. Morales gave to him earlier, similar to the tiara Mrs. Morales gave you with the same message.

“Un rey y una reina [a king and a queen],” Mrs. Morales had said earlier as she carefully placed the tiara on your head while Mr. Morales handed Miguel the crown.

“Wow, you guys must be special,” Miles commented from somewhere as he ate fried plantains. “I've only seen marrie—” The rest of his words died in his mouth by a single glance from his mom. “These fried plantains are to die for. Anyone tried them?” he asked before quietly stepping away to talk with Peter B..

“There, ready,” Mrs. Morales said stepping back to admire her work as the tiara rested on your head, perfectly secured. As you stood before her, you didn’t fail to notice the proud smile on her face while she gazed at you and then at Miguel, who quietly conversed with Mr. Morales with much more ease than before after carrying so much guilt and shame due to the circumstances between Miles and himself regarding the police captain. Still smiling, Mrs. Morales cleared her throat.

“Well,” Mr. Morales said, hearing his wife's cue. “I just remembered I haven’t talked with my neighbor’s… Godmother.”

“Right,” Mrs. Morales added just as Mr. Morales joined her side, taking her hand in his. “We must go and do some rounds. You guys enjoy the party and the food, alright? Let us know if there’s anything you guys need.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Morales, we will,” you answered politely with Miguel by your side, who took his spot next to you as soon as Mr. Morales went to his wife.

“Thank you. We appreciate your hospitality. The food is amazing, as always,” Miguel added with a small yet genuine smile before looking at you. “Dulzura and I are enjoying it very much. We have done so for the last two years.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Morales replied with a pleased smile, though you both mistook the real reason for it. It wasn’t because of the comment about the food and party, but rather, due to the lovely nickname Miguel gave you and how easily it rolled off his mouth; as if it was second nature to him. There was also the way that Miguel smiled much easier, a great contrast to the previous year when he seemed a bit more reserved in the presence of others. “We are delighted that you’ve both enjoyed the food and the party.”

“Very delighted,” Mr. Morales added with a small smirk, noticing the nickname, too.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know about the nickname because they one hundred percent did thanks to the spider gang, who had long ago shared that piece of information with the older couple, however, it was the first time they were witnessing the maroon-eyed Spider-Man saying it.

“Well, wow,” Mrs. Morales continued with her pleased smile, squeezing her husband’s hand as a sign that it was time for them to depart. “We truly are happy that you’re both here again and that you’re enjoying yourselves. Our home is always open to you. The two of you,” she continued, clarifying to make sure Miguel also understood. “So, I hope to see you both more and again next year.”

With a nod, Miguel answered. “Si Dios nos da licencia y ustedes nos reciben, aquí estaremos sin falta. Muchas gracias, Don y Doña Morales [if God allows and you receive us, we will be here without failure. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Morales].”

“What Miguel said,” you added with a smile. “Thank you again for inviting us.”

With smiles and waves, the couple retreated, leaving the king and queen with each other.

“Dulzura,” Mrs. Morales said, glancing back one more time to look at you and Miguel. “He calls her Dulzura. Es adorable [it's adorable].”

“It’s very cute. Who would’ve thought he’d be calling her that?” Mr. Jeff replied.

“Not me, but ey, I’m more than happy. Do you see how cute they look together? I told you last year that they have these gazes for each other, and you know what people say: The eyes never lie.¨

“I see it. They almost gaze at each other with stars in their eyes,” Mr. Morales replied with an amused smile.

“You see it, too, don’t you? They’re glued to each other, ésos dos [those two]. It’s like, they can’t be away from each other. Like they’re — No sé [I don't know] — Ah, cómo la luna y sus estrellas. Siempre juntas, allí lado a lado [Ab, like the moon and its stars. Always together, side by side].”

“Like the moon and its stars…” Jeff repeated as they walked. “That is true. I see Y/N looks very happy, too. Remember when we first met her? There was this… Look in her eyes.”

“Su mirada escondía una tristeza [her gaze hid a sadness],” Rio stated, nodding. “But now… There’s happiness in them. In both their eyes.”

After pulling his wife closer, Jeff smiled. “I think, the future holds something special for them.”

“I think so, too,” Rio replied with a smile. “I truly hope so.”

Hours later after that encounter with Mr. and Mrs. Morales, the clock struck midnight at which you notice Miguel’s crown before your eyes met his, discovering that he was already looking at you. Under the colorful patterns on the sky, Miguel smiled at you and took notice of your tiara. He had found it strange earlier in the evening how he had only seen a few people with crowns and tiaras, almost as if they had been handed out to specific people. Either way, Miguel found the sight of you in your tiara cute.

“Happy New Year, Dulzura,” he murmured softly, for your ears only. “I hope you have a wonderful year filled with happiness, health, and love; that you accomplish all your goals and wishes.”

With so much hugging taking place around you both, Miguel recalled his thoughts from days before when he came to the conclusion that he was ready for more physical contact. At that moment at the rooftop, however, Miguel found himself unable to take action with so many people around. He had the feeling that the spider gang would’ve lost their minds at the sight and the moment may have been disturbed or rushed, so he discarded the idea, and a kiss on the cheek…

Well, that was not even on the table, but of course, there was your personal form of physical contact. Gazing at you, Miguel lifted his pinky finger beneath exploding fireworks, offering a New Year’s hug in the only way he could, but meaningful nonetheless.

Without question or hesitation, you accepted it and embraced his pinky with your own — sharing a hug in your own secret way. With a smile, you thanked Miguel and reciprocated his kind and loving words, giving his pinky finger a gentle squeeze for extra emphasis. “I hope you have a lovely year; that it treats you with love and kindness, Solecito. I hope all your goals and wishes come true. Always.”

“Likewise, Dulzura. Always,” Miguel murmured back, reciprocating the gentle squeeze with a warm smile.

After wishing everyone else a happy new year, you both stayed at the party a bit longer to enjoy a few more desserts, like the amazing flan, and watched your friends and everyone else dance on the rooftop, a sign that the party was only going to keep going.

It was about two in the morning when you finally said your goodbyes and retired for the night, reaching home in seconds. You settled in the living room floor against a couch. Shoes, coats, and other accessories to stay warm were shed since they were no longer needed due to the penthouse's warmth.

“That food was amazing,” you muttered, your head resting on the couch’s cushion.

“I think I ate too much flan,” Miguel admitted, rubbing his tummy. “But it was amazing.”

“I definitely ate too much flan, but it was so good,” you replied with a grin. “Plus, it’s not like we eat it often, so… A little treat to celebrate the new year, right?”

“Mmm, I agree with your thinking,” Miguel answered, glancing at you. He could tell that you seemed a bit sleepy, but knowing you, you’d claim you weren’t. “You sleepy yet?”

“Nope. You?”

Miguel grins and leans back, his back popping with the movement. He knew it. “No. Too much sugar is probably going to keep me up,” he said, making you chuckle sleepily.

“We can work on a puzzle, if you want. Or, watch some TV. You know they always do the New Year’s shows. Maybe the performances are fun.”

Miguel turned the TV on, switching between channels to find some of the New Year's performances. He settled on a channel once he found a singer performing an upbeat song.

“Yay, sounds fun,” you said yawning, moving side to side to dance a little — a sight that captured Miguel's gaze.

“If I knew you were in a dancing mood, we should’ve stayed at the party,” Miguel said with amusement.

“Mmm, I only like to dance in private,” you answered laying back on the couch. “I used to dance with Peter all the time… In our little living room.”

With a nod, Miguel stored that information away, watching you continue to grow sleepier and sleepier. “Maybe one of these days…” Miguel started, gazing at you fall asleep slowly but surely. “You can dance again with someone.”

A sleepy smile formed on your lips despite your closed lids, your head sliding down the couch and onto his shoulder. “I’d love that,” you murmured, but before truly falling asleep, some words slipped past your lips. “— ith you.”

Miguel’s eyes widened as he connected the dots, or at least connected what he thought you meant in that moment — you'd love to dance with him. It brought a smile to his face as he relaxed once more next to you, basking in your warmth and closeness.

“Soon, Dulzura,” he whispered softly. “Just give me a little more time. I'm just a few steps away, I promise.” Miguel sighed, his eyes fluttering due to his own sleep as he thought about his whispered words. He truly believed in and meant them, from his very heart and soul.

♡

The month of January — with its promises of new beginnings — passed by with slow and easy days spent at the penthouse to stay warm.

Like previous years, you reflected on the past year and realized it had been an entire year since you had begun to live with Miguel due to the fire at your apartment building. You found it amazing how much both your lives had changed in a year alone; from living in your own spaces to being unable to sleep because you were in different dimensions. You recalled how you had refused to let yourself take root in the penthouse, how you wanted to make it seem as though you weren’t staying at Miguel’s home, but now, your belongings have found a home somewhere within the penthouse.

Your blanket now rests on one of the couches at the living room. Next to the remotes on the coffee table, your hair ties or other hair accessories can be found there at times. In the laundry room, your detergents sit next to Miguel’s. And just like in the beginning, it continues to feel normal to you both. As if it’s always been like this.

February, as always, came and went in the blink of an eye. Of course, you celebrated Valentine’s Day once again with your friends and baked sweet treats for everyone along with Miguel’s favorite desserts because well, he’s your best friend. That’s why you baked just for him. No other reason.

Without fully realizing when, the cold and snowy days ended and have been replaced by warm and longer ones. Outside, the sound of busy bees can be heard around the gardens. Ice cream shops are once again back in full business, offering delicious and rich flavors. And everywhere in the city, there's the feeling of new beginnings and growth due to the flourishing nature.

After coming to the conclusion that he’s ready for more physical touch on Christmas night, Miguel has been trying more and more with each passing day. These days, he allows his fingers to brush yours more often, letting them linger a second or two longer than necessary when he hands you things, like mugs with your precious café de olla that never fails to make you smile. At the Spider Society, your arms brush more often than not when you're walking side by side. At home, he's opted to sit next to you more than before when you spend the evenings hunched over the coffee table to put puzzles together — a new activity that you’ve both been enjoying.

Miguel can’t help but feel like he’s made a lot of progress with these gestures alone, yet… There’s this one thing he’s been thinking about for some time now. It’s been on his mind thanks to you for over a year now, when you made the confession in a moment of vulnerability that you wished to hug him. Ever since then, the thought has been on his mind, but lately, in all honesty, Miguel has thought about it even more.

Even now as he sits in the Spider Society's cafeteria, surrounded by the spider gang, waiting for you to join everyone, Miguel thinks about it.

To wrap his arms around and hold you… That's Miguel's goal.

The problem is that it's been so long since Miguel has held someone or has had someone hold him. It almost feels like a foreign concept at this point and he doesn't know how to even approach the moment. It's not like he should simply go up to you and ask for or offer a hug. Right? It doesn’t seem like a good way, at least not in Miguel’s mind. To him, there needs to be a reason to rationalize the moment because again, it’s been so long.

Thankfully, there’s still time for his goal despite it being several months since the new year began. At least, that's what Miguel tells himself as he waits for you.

“There she is!” Peter suddenly exclaims, nudging Miguel's arm to get his attention.

Focusing in the present, Miguel glances around until he spots you. There you are, heading towards the table -- a sight that makes Miguel's lips twitch upwards into a smile, though it falters a little when he notes that other spider members are watching you, too, most of which happen to be men.

With narrowed eyes, Miguel feels displeased with the way they're looking at you; a way he has never noticed before. He tries to figure out if he's simply never noticed it before, or if this is a new thing.

Maybe they have noticed just how lovely and beautiful you are. Maybe they’ve noticed that sweet and tender smile that's enough to warm a cold person’s heart. And of course, there’s your kindness, gentleness, and sweetness.

Yet, as Miguel turns to gaze at you again, he senses that that's not what these individuals see. They only see the surface of who you are, unlike him.

And the spider gang, too, of course.

These people have no idea what you look like when you're completely and utterly disconnected from the world with a good book in one hand and a mug of café de olla — made by him, just for you — in the other, laying on the couch under your favorite blanket at the penthouse.

They have no clue how damn cute you look when you wake up nor how warm and soft you feel.

They haven't witnessed the pure look of concentration when you're baking to your heart's content, or working on a puzzle. They don't hear nor see the excitement in you when you tell him you've completed a portion of the puzzle, or about something that brings you happiness.

They don't know you like that.

They don't have the privilege nor honor like he does.

“I think we've lost him. Hellooooo? Anybody home?” Peter states next to Miguel.

Miguel blinks in surprise when Peter’s hand appears in front of him, waving it to get his attention. “¿Que [what]?” Miguel blurts out, slowly realizing that he was a little too distracted there.

“You zoned out on us,” Jess says, raising an eyebrow at the Spider Society's leader and earning herself nods of agreement.

“My bad,” Miguel grumbles, straightening up in his chair. “I was just thinking.”

“Right. Just thinking,” Peter answers with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows at Jess with a knowing look.

Ignoring the comment, Miguel focuses on you again. You're a few tables away now, so close to reaching the table, but suddenly, to Miguel's great disappointment (and annoyance), someone intercepts your path.

Just like Miguel, someone else seems to have made a goal of their own regarding you, and that someone is none other than Ben Reilly. Ever since the new year started, it seems to Miguel that Reilly has made it his mission to be in your life. It's not even an exaggeration because as the months have gone by, Reilly has tried to be near you one way or another.

It started by him asking for help with reports, which Miguel remembers happened once last year before the Spider Society’s trip to the beach. When he first learned of it, Miguel found it odd. How could he not when Reilly has been part of the Spider Society since almost the beginning? He learned how to handle that task without much difficulty, but suddenly, Reilly needed someone's help — specifically yours — to complete them. It hasn’t been that one single time, though. Every two days or so, there comes Reilly with a ‘question’ regarding a report.

Then, there's him inviting you for lunch at the cafeteria once a week. Sometimes, it's with him alone and other times, it's with his whole group of friends. And finally, there's Reilly trying to partner up with you on missions, even after Miguel or Jess have already assigned teams and you're clearly not assigned with him.

This hasn't gone unnoticed by Miguel, of course. After witnessing all of these situations for months, Miguel connected the dots.

Reilly seems to have a crush on you.

He had a feeling this was the case back during the Christmas break when the other Spider-Man seemed eager to have found himself under mistletoe with you. Thankfully, Miguel prevented it from happening. For your sake, of course. Not for any other reason…

His suspicion has since then been confirmed. Or, at least, Miguel feels it has because why is Reilly suddenly everywhere? It all adds up for Miguel.

He can’t say the same about your feelings for Ben, however, because he’s not sure how you feel. You've always talked about Reilly with respect and kindness, and even mentioned once that some people underestimated him, but Miguel hasn’t noticed any clear signs of you having feelings for him. Not romantic ones, at least.

Yet, as Miguel watches you converse with Reilly now, he knows there's a possibility you've developed feelings for him and you've just not shared them with him.

With a sigh, Miguel lowers his gaze to the matching bracelets you gifted each other for Christmas. He still can't believe that you both bought such similar bracelets, even with the same little knot; a detail he views as a symbol of your friendship. Gingerly, Miguel traces the knots with his pinky finger, continuing to wait for you.

“You know…” Hobie starts, noticing Miguel's quiet demeanor and how he's tracing his matching bracelets as if that will teleport you to him. “This might sound crazy, but don’t they look kind of cute?”

Hearing Hobie's words, Miguel blinks in shock and disbelief. Surely, he’s not talking about you and Ben. Right?

“Who?” Peter B. asks, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about them,” he continues in equal disbelief, pointing at you and Ben with his thumb, which is a great relief to Miguel. He's glad he's not the only one that disagrees with that horrendous statement by Hobie.

Next to Hobie, Pav hums with a little smirk. “I don’t know. I think they would look good together.” He raises an eyebrow at Peter while Miguel, who is unaware of the silent conversation taking place around him, stares in your direction.

“You know… I can kind of see what you’re talking about. What do you think, Miguel? Ben and your dear friend, hm?” Peter asks, realizing what Hobie and Pav are doing.

“I think, it doesn't really make sense,” Miguel answers slowly and carefully, thinking about the numerous of times people have said you and him look like a couple. Or rather, how many people have assumed you are in a relationship. No one has ever said that about you and some other man, especially not Reilly. “I don’t see it. It's an interesting… Opinion, though.”

“It makes a lot of sense to me,” Hobie counters with his signature smirk. “Their vibes — just match.” At his side, Pav looks away, stifling a little laugh.

“If you say so, Hobart,” Miguel answers, drumming his fingers on the table. What is Ben talking to you about that’s taking so long?

“Not the formal name,” Pav mutters to Hobie.

“I for one… Agree with Miguel. Ben Reilly and Y/N, it’s like water and oil,” Noir says, adding to the conversation as he, too, gazes at you and Ben.

Miguel almost nods at that, but he refrains from doing so. It’s true, though. It’s simply impossible in Miguel’s mind; the idea of you and Ben.

“I think, what matters is that Y/N finds love again. Wouldn’t you guys agree?” Miles adds, which Jess seconds with a nod of agreement. “It’s been so many years for her, I think it’d be great if she found someone to build a life with again.”

“That’s true. It’s been what? Like, five years since her Peter’s death?” Gwen responds.

“It’s certainly been some time,” Hobie answers with a nod, glancing at you. “So, she should definitely get back into the dating scene. I fear, however, that it’s been so long since she’s been in that world. She might need some help, or advice on what guys to steer away from… Someone…” he trails off with a smirk.

“Well, I think Miguel would be of great help to Y/N,” Peter chirps in with a grin. “Something tells me you’d be great as her boy —”

“Hey, guys!” you cheerfully say, taking your seat next to Miguel. “Sorry about that. Ben stopped me to talk.”

“About what?” Hobie asks, voicing the very same thing that Miguel was about to ask. “Some reports?” he jokes, earning himself glances from the others.

“Oh, no, he asked if I was interested in going to his universe to witness some moon event taking place.”

“To moongaze?” Miguel blurts out, the words sinking in. Why does that sound like…

“As a date?” Peter B. asks, subtly looking between you and Miguel to gauge his reaction, and finishing your best friend's thought.

It can’t be. Right?

“A date? No.” You shake your head, smiling a little nervously now that you think about it. “It’s not a date… It’s not one if other people are going.” You glance at Miguel, your eyebrows furrowed. “His friends are going, too, so… It’s not a date. Just… A hangout.”

“Okay, so it’s a hangout,” Miguel repeats, nodding slowly. If there’s other people involved, that means it’s not a date. At least, he thinks so.

“I mean, I don’t know. Maybe the other people are going as couples,” Hobie says with a smile, knowing what he's doing. “I guess you’ll find out if it is, or isn’t. When is the event?”

“Tonight…” you reveal, looking at the table and pondering if you agreed to a date by accident when that wasn’t your intention.

“That’s exciting,” Peter reassures you next to Miguel. “I’m sure it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun, so… Enjoy yourself, alright?” Miguel adds softly, much quieter.

You nod, accepting the reassuring words from Peter and Miguel, but Hobie's words stay with you. Maybe you did agree to a date without realizing it. “Right, it should be fun. I’m sure of it,” you answer with a huff, one that Miguel notes.

He bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if it's a huff of disappointment due to the fact that it's unclear whether it's a date or not. He wonders if you’re hoping for the first option, yet he doesn’t voice his curiosity, out of respect.

Much like Miguel, you don’t voice your uncertainty about the social event with Ben to avoid worrying Miguel and your friends. Besides, they all seemed happy about the possibility of it being a date, so you don’t want to reveal you feel the opposite about it.

The uncertainty lingers for the rest of the day as you work on tasks and go on missions to other universes, making you nervous. It's been so long since you went out on a date and to be completely honest, you haven't even thought about it, so to suddenly find yourself in a possible date is more than stressful.

The work day eventually comes to an end and as per usual, Miguel and you head home.

Dinner is cooked by the two of you and then enjoyed in the dining room over light conversation despite the looming event over your heads, making it feel as though you’re both ignoring the situation.

You try to treat the evening as if it were any other; you clean the kitchen with Miguel and then shower to unwind for a bit, but the time soon comes for you to get ready.

Miguel looks up at you from his book, from which he's been trying to read for the last half hour without retaining a single word, when he notices you glancing at the clock. “Time to get ready?”

“Yeah… I need to get ready,” you answer, reluctantly standing up. You silently wish you had an excuse not to go, but alas, there's none and you don't want to come off as rude either. “I'll be upstairs if you need me,” you state, thinking maybe there's a chance of an unexpected mission.

“Alright, Dulzura. I'll be… Here,” Miguel answers with a little pout, watching you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. He sighs heavily and leans back onto the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A feeling grows in his chest. It's a mixture of concern and something else — a feeling of intranquillity — that has have him in a restless mood since lunch.

Miguel tried to go along with his day as he usually does, just like you did, but the truth is that he found himself in that mood. He kept reading reports over and over again because his brain struggled to retain the information he was looking at. Tabs that he needed open were closed by accident with his fidgety fingers. When members dropped by to make inquiries, Miguel found himself only listening to half of what was being said.

Miguel runs a hand down his face with another sigh, trying to be positive for your sake despite his worry because yes, he's simply worried. That's all to it. It's mere worry and nothing else. He's worried that you may have expectations and that Reilly will disappoint you. He's concerned that Reilly will hurt your heart when you deserve nothing but happiness and a chance of experiencing love again.

Staring off into space, Miguel continues to contemplate the situation.

Upstairs, you change out of your lounging clothes and touch up your hair. With a sigh, you gaze at yourself in a mirror to waste time. A few seconds later, you apply a bit of lip oil, which reminds you of a comment Miguel made back during your Christmas getaway.

A smile comes to your face as you recall Miguel tell you at the diner that the lip oil looked cute on you, which you found endearing. Still smiling, you reach for a bottle of perfume before you remember where you're going.

Your smile fades as you gaze at the perfume bottle, the lingering question coming back to you.

Is this a date?

If it is, a bit of perfume may give the wrong idea that you're trying to smell good for someone — Ben.

Nope.

You place the bottle back on your desk and after looking at yourself for a second time in the mirror, you decide to take off the lip oil, too. Satisfied, you pick up your last minute items and remember to grab a light jacket just in case the night is chilly since you'll be outside.

Rummaging through your closet, something falls from the top, which you sense immediately. With ease, you catch the item, only to come face to face with Miguel.

Or rather, a version of him in the form of a plushie.

A chuckle escapes from your mouth while you trace its mask with a finger. “Plushie Spider-Man 2099. You're just as cute as the real Miguel, hm?… Shock,” you sigh, shaking your head at yourself before placing the plushie on your bed. “Am I so uneasy about this that I'm talking to a plushie now?”

Of course, plushie Miguel doesn't reply, so you turn to grab your jacket, forgetting about the plushie for now.

You bought it a while back during one of your solo excursions of Nueva York and decided to keep it a little secret because you think Miguel might find it silly — or worse, weird — that you've bought additional merch about him. It's the reason why you always keep it in your closet, away from Miguel's maroon eyes, but as you exit the bedroom, you forget to tuck it away again.

Unexpectantly, you receive a notification, stopping you in your tracks. Your soul hopes it's a cancellation from Ben, or maybe it's soneone else sending a call for backup, however, it's none of the Spider Society's members who have messaged you.

Instead, it's Harry, who has been more and more in contact with you since the year started. As promised earlier in December, you met with him and Mr. Osborn after they returned from their trip abroad. Ever since then, you've been messaging each other more to keep in contact, though there have been times in which you've had no other option but to politely cancel or decline due to your work as Spider-Woman. Despite those setbacks, you’ve enjoyed having Harry in your life again.

There's no denying that initially, you felt hesitant about allowing Harry back into your life, especially because it meant having someone to hide your super hero identity from — someone who may notice your tardiness at times, or items at your apartment due to your forgetfulness that may reveal your identity. There's also the fact that all of your friends, including Miguel, felt negatively about him after he ghosted you for years. You can't blame them, you'd be the exact same way, but ultimately, you decided to give Harry a chance for Peter.

With so many months in contact, you feel that the two of you have become reacquainted and become friends once more, although it's a different dynamic than the previous one. Besides that, it’s going well. You have forgiven him and tried to move forward.

You may never know why Harry disappeared from your life so suddenly. Perhaps it's something that will always remain a mystery to you, much like your second life as Spider-Woman to Harry. And that's okay, you're fine with it.

Years have passed and you've both changed and matured. It's a new page and all there is, is to keep moving forward and growing as people with this new friendship.

With that in mind, you quickly check the message, wondering what he said.

Harry: Hey! How's your day going? Thought about you just now because someone received flowers at work. 🙂

Despite your temptation to reply now as a way to delay leaving the penthouse, you decide to answer when you return home.

Back downstairs, you find Miguel looking off to the side. Probably taking a break from his reading and reflecting on what he's read.

“Hey,” you start, holding your jacket in one hand.

Your voice snaps Miguel from his trance, making him turn to look at you. His maroon eyes respectfully take in your appearance. Silently and subtly, he notes the lack of lip oil and trail of your perfume you usually wear. All he notices is the scent of your shower products. He wonders about that, but doesn't voice it. Instead, Miguel offers you a small smile. “Ready?”

“Mhm… Ready,” you answer, wanting to add an ‘unfortunately’, but that may sound rude. “I guess I should go…?” you continue, sounding more like a question than a statement.

“If you're ready. You have everything?” Miguel asks, standing up and putting away the book he's been trying to read for God knows how long without any success.

You nod, looking at your belongings. “It seems so.”

“Good, that's good,” Miguel replies, still giving you that smile to be positive for you. “Be careful and just enjoy yourself, alright?” Miguel gently states, trying to offer helpful words despite his intranquillity. He still doesn't know if you want this to be a date or not. Or, if you have feelings for Ben, but despite his own feelings — those being concern and restlessness, of course — he hopes you're not hurt nor disappointed by it.

“I'll try, thank you,” you respond, offering a small smile. “I'll be back soon, okay?”you add, wishing you could stay at home with Miguel, even if it's in silence. Even if he’s in another part of the penthouse entirely.

“Alright, Dulzura. That sounds good, don’t worry,” Miguel answers with a nod, that feeling of restlessness growing in his chest, which he cannot explain. It’s not like you’re not coming back, right? You are. So then, why does it almost feel like he’s losing you somehow? “Have fun.”

You nod, forcing yourself to open a portal at last. After giving Miguel one more glance, you reluctantly travel to Ben's universe, leaving Miguel behind.

With yet another heavy and deep sigh, Miguel watches the dimensional portal grow smaller and smaller, the scent of your shampoo lingering behind like a soft caress.

Knowing he won't have better luck with reading, Miguel decides to go to the kitchen and do…

Miguel scratches the side of his head as he glances around the kitchen space.

“… Hm…” he hums to himself, wondering what he can do to pass time before finally deciding on something. “Dios mio,” he mutters to himself as he begins to reorganize a kitchen drawer, not sure why he’s doing this nor why he’s feeling the way he is.

♡

Over in Ben’s universe, you arrive to the location given to you by Ben himself. One single look at the scene gives you the feeling that this hangout may be the opposite of that, yet you hold on to the hope that it's not. You hold on to the idea that Ben's advances over the last few months have been purely driven by an interest in friendship and nothing more.

The fact that Ben's friends are present is a good relief. A part of you had the sudden worry that you'd arrive and only find Ben because ‘something’ came up for everyone else, but thankfully, they’re here.

However, the sight of Ben's friends sitting on one picnic blanket and Ben on another one alone, raises a flag of concern. Still, you remain polite and greet Ben and his friends, the same group of people that you remember seeing Ben with back during the Christmas break.

“You came,” Ben says with a smile, standing up to offer you a place.

“Yes, I did,” you answer, thanking him for the seat before sitting down. Of course, you make sure to keep a respectable distance from him.

“We have snacks and drinks. Please go ahead and get anything you want. Don't be shy,” Ben continues with a smile, gesturing to a bag and a cooler.

“Yeah, Y/N, don't be shy,” Anya Corazón, another Spider-Woman, says with a grin before nudging you slightly.

“Thank you,” you answer, picking out a snack and a drink after being nudged by Anya, finding her words and gesture a little strange. You put it aside, though, not thinking more of it.

Sat on the rooftop over picnic blankets, you all eat snacks and talk about random things as you wait for the moon event to start. All is going well, though you do notice that Ben seems to be moving closer to you as the conversation continues, until the topic shifts to something you were not expecting.

“So… Y/N… We were talking the other day,” Canada Spider-Woman starts, once again reminding you that you still don’t know her proper name. “About how most of us have lost someone. I recall someone mentioning you lost a Peter.”

‘A Peter.’

You swallow, disliking how cold and insignificant that sounds, even if that wasn't the Spider-Woman's intention. “I lost my Peter, who was my boyfriend,” you answer firmly. “He was my boyfriend since we were teenagers.”

Noting your short answer, the Spider-Woman quickly apologizes, glancing at everyone else. “Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to offend you, or him. We were just talking…”

“About all who are currently unattached,” Malala Windsor adds, trying to clear things up.

“I think what they’re trying to say is, everyone that’s not with someone,” Ben clarifies, giving his friends a look you miss entirely. “How — You know, there’s Peter B. and his family. Jess and her own. Then, there’s some of us who are… Single.”

“Yes, single. That's what we were talkinvg about when you came up. You’re single, right?” Anya asks, raising an eyebrow.

“… Yes,” you respond, noting you have everyone's eyes on you. The feelings from earlier rise even more with this interaction since it feels like your answer is being picked on by everyone. “Since Peter… My Peter passed away, I’ve been mourning him and have had no interest in further relationships,” you add, making it clear you're not interested.

“That’s understandable. It’s been a few years since his death, no?” Malala inquires.

“It has,” you answer, glancing at the moon and wondering how much longer there is to wait.

“Hmm, so it's been years now… Plenty of time to mourn,” Spider-Canada continues, glancing at Ben.

“Yeah, but as we all know, mourning is different for everyone. Some people take longer than others. It's been a few years for me… Years I spent on my own, learning how to heal and handle other emotions, so…” you trail off, awkwardly holding your drink to keep your hands busy.

“I did hear about that,” Ben gently says. “That you were alone for several years. I wish Miguel would've found your universe sooner.” Carefully, Ben places a hand on your shoulder with the hopes of reassuring and getting closer to you. “You wouldn't have been alone for so long, if he had.”

You hum, feeling Ben's touch and finding it uncomfortable. One, it's lasting too long for your liking. Second, his hand feels too heavy, making you want to move away. And third, the warmth radiating from his hand feels too much for your skin. It feels like his warmth is disrupting your body temperature where he's touching you. To make it worse, Ben even gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“Miguel and I have discussed this,” you state, offering a small smile despite your discomfort. “And just like I told him once, the time in which my universe, and I, was found was right. I learned a lot during that time of solitude. Grew as a person. And besides… That's in the past now. I'm just happy and thankful to be part of the Spider Society, and to have my friends,” you continue, wanting to change the topic. “Hey, how much until the moon event?”

“About half an hour,” Ben replies, noting your shift in conversation as his friends digest your responses. “Would you like another drink?”

The half hour passes by in the blink of an eye, just like the moon event. The conversation continues even after the event is over, but thankfully, sensitive topics are no longer brought up.

After helping clean up and organize the area, you decide that it's a good time to head out without making it seem like you've been ready to run off as soon as the moon event ended.

Sensing your exit, Ben steps closer to you without fully invading your personal space. “I can accompany you,” he offers. “I know it’s not actually walking you home, but… You know.” He states sheepishly, hoping you’ll say yes.

You, however, shake your head with a small smile. “That’s not necessary, Ben. Besides… I’m not going to my universe.” Starting up your gizmo, you continue. “Miguel is waiting for me at home, at his universe.”

“Oh,” Ben replies, his usual impeccable posture faltering by the revelation that you still live with Miguel. “I didn’t know.”

“Wait — You’re still living with O’Hara?” Max Borne asks, surprised to learn this fact. “I thought I heard that that was because of a fire back at your place, but that your apartment has been ready…?”

Chuckling, you glance up after missing an entire conversation amongst the group through gazes alone.

If only they knew what happened the night you supposedly moved back to your apartment; how you both ended up meeting on the same rooftop hours later in the middle of the night because neither of you could sleep.

If only they knew, but that’s not something they need to know, you decide. You're the only ones to know, Miguel and you. “Long story short? We realized we enjoy being roommates,” you answer. “Especially since we had both lived alone for several years. We enjoy each other’s companies, and we’re best friends.”

“Best friends,” Ben repeats, nodding his head. “Of course, you are best friends.”

“But I’m guessing that’s just a you thing, right? Like, the whole best friends thing. I can’t see Miguel actually admitting that out loud. He’s so… He’s just not the type to admit that these days,” Max states, having been there before you joined the Spider Society.

“Actually, Miguel has,” you reply with the warmest smile you’ve had all evening since you arrived. The fellow spider members don’t miss it at all; how the mention of Miguel seems to light up your mood.

“That’s great… For Miguel and you,” Ben adds after a few seconds of silence from his friends, who seem to be digesting the information. “You guys are best friends… No wonder you shared the cabin for Christmas.” With a sigh, Ben runs a hand through his hair and remembers Miguel’s actions at the diner that second day he ran into you, when you were both babysitting Mayday.

He felt incredibly irritated that Miguel pulled you away from him just when he was going to bring up the fact that you and him were under mistletoe. He didn’t even have the time to utter the first word when you were snatched away because of ‘icicles’. He recalls that he had looked at them earlier when he first entered the diner with his friends and hadn’t sensed any danger, but somehow, Miguel had and because of it, his moment was stolen.

Now, Ben wonders if there are hidden motives behind Miguel’s actions. Or, is he merely looking out for you as his best friend?

“Yes, we’ve found great company in each other, which I truly appreciate after being alone for so long in my universe,” you share softly with the multidimensional portal open behind you, calling you home. “It’s nice for us to have each other.”

“Right,” Anya answers, staring at you as if she knows something you don’t. “Well… I’m also glad you’ve both found company in each other.”

“Thank you,” you reply yet again with a smile. “Well, I’m heading out now. Thank you for inviting me tonight. I enjoyed moongazing and talking with you guys. Enjoy the rest of your night.” You wave goodbye and enter the portal at last, yearning to be back in Nueva York.

Back in Miguel’s universe, you step out into the living room hoping to find Miguel there, but the space is empty. There’s no sight of Miguel, even when you walk into the kitchen. That’s when you realize the penthouse is too quiet.

“Looking for something?” Lyla asks suddenly with a little smirk, floating next to you. She lays on her stomach, her legs swinging behind her. “Or, should I say, someone?” she corrects herself.

“Hah, funny. Where’s Miguel?” you ask, wondering if he’s taking a nap or gone out.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Lyla answers with a giggle. “I’ll give you the info if you tell me how you feel about Benny Boy.”

Hearing that nickname makes you grimace. “Please never call Ben, or anyone named Ben for that matter, that ever again. Especially not baby Benjamin. That just gave me the ick. Also, why do I need to tell you that when I can simply message Miguel and ask where he’s at?”

Seeing your grimace and genuine dislike for the nickname makes Lyla snort. “My bad, my bad, but you should tell me. I’m asking for a friend.”

You laugh softly. “You’re that nosy, hm?”

“It’s one of my ‘human’ traits. Don’t blame it on me,” Lyla answers with a shrug before her smirk returns. “So, Ben?”

“Nothing about Ben,” you answer, walking up the stairs to see if Miguel is there.

“So, no fuzzy feelings for him?”

“Nope,” you answer all too quickly, certain of your feelings. “No fuzzy feelings.”

“Gotcha. By the way, Miguel will meet you at the same rooftop you guys had tacos a few months ago,” Lyla says with a happy tone before disappearing.

With a heavy sigh, you turn back around. “You could’ve saved me the trip, you know?” you call out to Lyla, but the little holographic AI assistant is already long gone and you quickly let it go anyway, focusing on going to meet Miguel.

In seconds, you’re out of the penthouse through a window and swinging through Nueva York in silence, excited to see Miguel.

Somewhere else in the city, Miguel swings past buildings with a cup holder in one hand, heading to the location. His thoughts are focused on reaching you when Lyla presents herself through his gizmo.

“Your best friend is on her way to the location,” she informs him. “I see you’ve acquired the goods.”

“That’s good, thank you for letting me know. And yeah, I got them.”

“Good, good, good…” Lyla trails off as Miguel continues moving. “So… “

“So what?” Miguel asks with furrowed eyebrows, giving himself a second to glance at Lyla.

“So… I think it’s safe to say Dulz doesn’t like Ben.”

That nearly makes Miguel drop the cup holder, but he composes himself. “Oh… What makes you think that?”

With a little snort, Lyla smiles. “Well, if you ask me, I just don’t think Ben is her type.”

“I don’t know that Dulzura has a type,” Miguel mutters, silently wondering if you do and if so, what it is.

“Well, I just don’t see her with Ben.”

“That’s not… Up to you or me, or anyone else, Lyla,” Miguel answers, though he agrees. Wholeheartedly. For whatever reason. “If Dulzura likes him, then… It’s her feelings and decision.”

“I know, but it’s still something to think about and worth mentioning.” Lyla turns away, noticing Miguel is almost at his destination. “For a friend,” she mutters quietly before flickering off with a little smirk.

With a thud, Miguel lands on the rooftop with the cup holder safe and sound. He looks around, trying to detect your presence, which doesn’t take him long to do. In a matter of seconds, you’re in view, heading straight for him after your… What should he call it? Meeting? Hangout? Date? He supposes he'll find out eventually along with whether you have feelings for Ben or not.

The first thing Miguel notices once you land on the rooftop is your smile upon seeing him. It’s a warmhearted and welcoming one that inspires a fluttery feeling in his chest — like butterflies breaking free from their cozy cocoons and spreading their wings for the very first time for flight.

“Solecito,” you greet Miguel warmly, walking closer to him.

“Dulzura,” Miguel replies, smiling right back at you. There's that fluttering again at the nickname. Little sun. “You’re back.”

“What? Did you think I wasn’t coming back?” you ask, amused. “It’s not going to be that easy to get rid of me, I fear.”

Hearing that, Miguel chuckles and gestures for you to take a seat. “Here I was thinking maybe you’d come back to tell me you like Ben's universe better,” he replies, saying it as a bit of a joke, but the words leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“Um, no,” you answer, sat on the ground with Miguel next to you. “It’s pretty, but… Nueva York is Nueva York,” you continue, glancing at him slowly. Nueva York has its own beauty and most importantly, it has Miguel. Your Miguel. As in, your best friend Miguel, not another variant — you quickly and mentally clarify to yourself, for some odd reason. You clear your throat and offer Miguel a smile. “Nueva York is — well — Home.”

“It is home,” Miguel agrees, nodding. “No matter what, you’ll always have a home here. I hope you never forget that.”

Still smiling, you shake your head no. “Never. How could I? My best friend always makes it feel like home, you know?”

“I figured I’d mention it again, just so you don’t forget,” Miguel continues with a warm smile, happy with your words, before he shows you the cup holder.

“Oooh! You got yogurt?” you ask excitedly, your eyes showing your happiness at the sight of the pink drink topped with fresh fruit and cereal.

“Yep, I got yogurt — something sweet like you,” Miguel murmurs handing you one of the cups along with a spoon and straw.

“You don’t even know,” you state, picking out a strawberry slice. “How much I needed this. Thank you!”

With a smile, Miguel watches you eat the strawberry slice before eagerly sipping the sweet drink. His lips part in surprise when a little moan comes from your throat with your eyes closed in delight. A blush quickly spreads over Miguel’s cheeks, the little noise and sight branded into his memory.

“This is so delicious,” you murmur. “Are you not going to eat yours? The cereal is going to get soggy, Migs.” You point out, noticing Miguel hasn’t started on his yet.

“I — Yes, I am. I just — “ Miguel stammers. “I was just making sure you liked yours,” he finally says, finding the words within himself.

“I’m literally holding back from scarfing it down, so that should tell you everything,” you reply, chuckling. “I love it! You really surprised me with this amazing treat.”

“I'm glad I surprised you,” Miguel answers, getting his straw and spoon out before digging in himself. The little sound you made is still in his head, but he does his best to push it away in order to focus in the now.

A peaceful and comfortable silence falls upon you, allowing you to enjoy Miguel's treat and each other's presence. It's nothing new, of course. Miguel and you are so comfortable with each other that neither of you have the need to fill the silence.

Halfway through the dessert, Miguel clears his throat. His cheeks are less red now, though a light blush remains. Stirring his straw around the cup, which looks miniature in his large hand, Miguel turns to gaze at you; a question lingering in his mind.

“So…” he starts softly. “How was your… ?”

A small smile forms on your face as you hear Miguel trailing off, not sure what to call what you had. “I think… It was a date,” you answer, turning to gaze at him.

“Yeah?” Miguel replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… I did notice that the others were only there as friends. Not as dates.”

“But?” Miguel inquires gently.

“But… They had picnic blankets and everyone sat on one besides Ben. That left me to sit with him alone.”

Miguel hums, placing that piece of information as small evidence to support his suspicion about Ben having feelings for you. There’s still no indication of your feelings, though.

“I didn't mind. Maybe the others are used to that, or maybe they didn't want to sit with me. Either way, I shared the picnic blanket with him and noticed he moved closer and closer as the conversation continued. Then, we had this conversation as a group. It makes me think.. Maybe Ben's friends were trying to gather information.”

“Oh…” Miguel swallows, bothered by the fact that Ben tried to move closer to you without a care for your comfort and boundaries. “What makes you think that?”

“Well… His friends brought up the fact that I’m single, which I didn’t like because one of them said I had lost ‘a Peter’. I’m sure she didn’t mean to word it like that, but,” you sigh. “It still rubbed me the wrong way, as if he was insignificant.” Shaking your head, you sigh again. “They clarified they brought it up because they were discussing everyone who is unattached and the topic of me losing Peter came up, apparently. It did seemed a little out of place to mention that today, given we don't know each other that well. Maybe… They wanted to clarify for some reason?”

“Well, first, I do hope it was a mistake they worded it like that because that did sound wrong,” Miguel starts, understanding why the wording came off like that for you. “And about the unattached comment… It could be mere gossip, Dulzura,” Miguel continues, trying to offer another reason for their curiosity regarding your relationship status, though it’s unclear if it’s more for you or for himself. “I do know that in the past — before you were here — I used to be a topic of discussion for many.”

“I know,” you answer turning to face him again and offering a look of understanding. “And I’ve told you, you don’t owe anyone explanations. People will gossip, all the time, so, I do see them merely gossiping about this.”

Miguel nods, releasing a small sigh. “Though, there is the chance that… You know.”

“Right,” you answer taking a short sip from your drink, thinking. “It could be that Ben…”

“Has feelings for you and his friends were asking to help him out,” Miguel finishes quietly.

With a hum, you take another spoonful of yogurt, a short silence following before you break it. “But to be honest?”

“Yeah?” Miguel responds, gazing at you with curiosity.

“We could be totally wrong,” you say with a small smile. “I never want to mistake kindness for something else.”

Miguel nods, understanding what you mean. There are people who mistake kindness, or even simple politeness, as flirting and romantic interest when there’s none.

“And besides,” you continue, still gazing at Miguel. “Respectfully, I have no interest in pursuing a relationship right now,” you add. “Much less with Ben. I see him as a simple friendly coworker, so I hope he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“So you don’t…? For Ben?” Miguel asks, finding it easier to breathe thanks to your confession.

“No,” you answer quickly, shaking your head to emphasize the point. “No, I don’t.”

“Alright, well, I… You know, I wasn’t sure,” Miguel continues, scratching his neck with his free hand. “I thought maybe you did, but hadn't said anything out of shyness.”

“No, I don't have feelings for him, so now you know,” you answer before eating more of your yogurt, feeling lighter inside now that you’ve told Miguel; now that he no longer thinks you have feelings for Ben. “So…”

“So…” Miguel repeats, slowly smiling at you and watching you eat.

“What?” you ask, raising your eyebrows when you realize he’s watching you.

“Nothing,” Miguel replies, turning to finish his yogurt.

“You were just staring,” you counter.

“I was just thinking.”

“Hm… About what?” you inquire, getting Miguel to face you again.

You gaze at each other, your yogurts forgotten for now, with serious faces. A few seconds in, your lips twitch upwards, something Miguel notices and makes his lips do the same. It’s a domino effect; you notice his lips twitch, too, and it just makes yours do the same again and so on until you both burst into fits of laughter while sitting on the rooftop, away from the rest of the world and multiverse.

You cover your mouth to hide your giggling and point to Miguel, pointing out that he’s laughing.

“I’m not —” Miguel manages, unable to finish before another laugh escapes him, laughing so hard he feels his chest vibrate with the movement.

“You are!” you continue.

“So are you!” Miguel answers, pointing back at you, which makes you shake your head in denial.

“I’m laughing because you’re laughing,” you respond in between giggles.

Your laughter continues a bit more before you both settle down, feeling happy and light as though you're both on top of the world.

After catching your breath from all the laughter, you gaze at each other and exchange soft and tender smiles.

The thought that you’re enjoying yourself a million times more with Miguel than you were with Ben and his friends crosses your mind then.

Based on what happened today, you have a feeling that the invitation from Ben was a silent date and you’re sorry to say it, but if it was, it didn't go well.

You’ve enjoyed yourself a million times more in half an hour with Miguel than you did with Ben in over an hour.

You're not saying that this is a date, of course, but… It goes to show how comfortable and close you are with Miguel, your best friend.

Still gazing and smiling at Miguel, a little chuckle escapes from your lips as you think about how badly you wish you could hug him right now. If you could, you would’ve already thrown your arms around him and hold on tight for a few seconds, or rather a few minutes.

“What’s that little chuckle for?” Miguel questions, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Sighting through your nose, you continue to smile at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” you ask.

Hearing your words, Miguel’s face softens. “I know,” he answers softly, yet again experiencing this feeling in his chest that he’s felt before. It’s like a beam of golden light, swirling and shining inside him. It’s so intense, it feels like it might explode from his very chest, but he cannot help it. Not the previous times nor today. Not ever. Of that, Miguel is certain. “And you’re mine,” Miguel answers, the itch to hug you coming forth once more.

His free hand curls into a gentle fist at the thought and itch. This right here — this moment — is what he would consider a ‘perfect’ moment for an embrace.

Miguel swallows, his heart beginning to race as he considers it.

Is this it?

Miguel asks himself that as he continues to gaze at you. For months now, the thought has been on his mind. He's been building himself up for more touch; for what he considers the biggest step yet in his healing journey and has gone back and forth on when and how to make this possible.

So, could this moment be it?

Miguel leans just a tad closer, his fist loosening despite his racing heart. A mixture of excitement and nerves forms in his tummy as he builds himself up for the moment, slowly but steadily, but then, the chance slips away when you stand up.

“How about we go home?” you ask with a smile, unaware of how close Miguel came to taking that step.

“I — Yes,” Miguel answers, caught off guard. Just like that, the moment has fled, but he reassures himself that the moment will come. It will, at its due time. “Let's go home.”

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you excuse yourself to change into your comfy clothes — promising Miguel to meet him in the living room in a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Miguel throws away the empty cups and turns on the stove for the last little surprise he has in store for you. Leaving that on, Miguel heads upstairs, too, to change into his lounging clothes.

As he walks down the hallway to his bedroom, he notices your door is open and that you seem to be in the bathroom. He briefly glances inside your room, but he ends up doing a double take when something catches his eyes, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Without thinking, Miguel enters your room, equally surprised and filled with tenderness due to the discovery. Carefully, Miguel picks up the plushie sitting on your bed with a smile. You have a plushie of him.

“Oh —” you gasp, walking into your room only to find Miguel holding your little secret. Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment and a minor panic coursing through your body because he has discovered the plushie. Facepalming, you remember you failed to place it back in your closet before leaving due to your nerves. “I can explain, Miguel. I — um —” You stop when Miguel begins to turn to face you, fearing that he's weirded out.

Noticing your reaction instantly, Miguel steps closer to you with a gentle smile. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he reassures you softly.

“I hope you don't think it’s weird, Miguel,” you reply with a little pout that makes Miguel want to melt.

“God no, why would I think it’s weird?” he asks with an amused yet gentle smile. “I think it’s incredibly sweet of you to have it, and to reassure you… Give me a few seconds.”

“What — Where are you going?” you ask as Miguel leaves your room, still holding the plushie.

A few seconds later, Miguel returns with one of his hands behind his back. Smiling, he shows you the plushie of himself before revealing what’s behind him. “I got it a while back,” Miguel shyly states, presenting a plushie of you.

“You have one of me…?” you say, looking at the plushie before looking up at him, surprised.

“Yes, I bought it a while back from Mr. Stanley’s store. I wanted to tell you about it, but I felt the same way. I thought maybe you’d find it strange, or even silly that I bought it. So, I’ve kept it in one of the drawers in my office. I personally think it’s sweet,” Miguel continues.

You shake your head in both disbelief and amusement to hear that you’ve both kept plushies a secret from each other.

Taking your plushie of Miguel from his offering hand, you smile sheepishly at each other. “I think it’s sweet you have one of me, too,” you answer with a small chuckle as you both press the plushies next to each other to look at them.

“See? No reason to be embarrassed, then,” Miguel replies. “Maybe… We can stop hiding them now.”

You nod in agreement. “I agree. The cat is out of the bag now.”

“I think I’m going to place mine in the living room,” Miguel shares. “Near the record player… You’re welcomed to place yours there, too.”

That’s exactly what you do once you’re both downstairs. You both place the plushies next to each other near the records player, looking so cute side by side.

You’re still staring at them when you receive a new notification, one you ignore by putting away all your devices to the side, including your gizmo. You’re home, which means you can unwind and forget about everything else, even the new message that unbeknownst to you, is from Harry.

Harry: Are you home? I was wondering if you’re up for a coffee. Let me know!

You sigh softly and slip the simple bracelet that prevents you from glitching in your free wrist, deciding that all notifications can be taken care off tomorrow just as a mug appears in your line of vision.

“Surprise,” Miguel says in a singsong voice, giving you a warm smile.

“You made café de olla while I was gone?” you ask, happily accepting the mug.

Smiling sheepishly, Miguel nods. He did more than make café de olla. The reorganized drawers and cabinets in the kitchen are a testament to that, but he decides to leave that out for now. You don’t need to know or get an idea about his restlessness while you were gone at Ben’s universe.

“I did,” Miguel replies, carrying his own mug and walking to the record player. His gaze lingers on the plushies for a few seconds, finding the sight of them together endearing, before he chooses a record from his collection to play.

He settles on the ground next to you, his arm brushing against yours, just as nostalgic notes fill the cozy living room accompanied with sentimental lyrics — a perfect melody for an evening like this one with a nice mug of coffee and the company of someone dear to you.

Drinking from your mug, you smile and gaze from your spot out the windows, noticing the moon. There may have been a moon event at Ben's universe, but here in Nueva York with Miguel at your side, the moon looks far lovelier and bewitching.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N:

Hiii, pookies!

I can't believe it's been months since I updated NC 😭😭 After the last update, I was so excited to continue updating regularly, but then life happened. Thankfully, here's the update!

I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing for NC again!💖✨️

Also, if you noticed some errors, pls excuse them. As some of you may know, my laptop is currently out of service so I used my phone and tablet — mainly my tablet with a wireless keyboard — to write this chapter. For some reason, my keyboard was a bit of an annoyance since it kept switching between languages while I typed and the notion app kept deleting entire paragraphs (never happens on my phone, but on my tablet it did). 🫠 Hopefully, I'll have my laptop running again soon 😭

For this chapter, I want to give credit to two people (hopefully they're still reading). One, to a nonnie, who sent an ask a while back asking how Miguel would react to hearing someone say Dulzura is with someone/looks cute with someone else when he's so used to people thinking Dulzura and him are dating. I took inspo from that ask for this chapter, so thank you, nonnie!

I also want to give credit to Mercy for the plushie scene because they sent an ask about this idea, and it was too cute to not include it! Thank you, Mercy! @mercynguyen I need a Miguel plushie so bad 😭

So this chapter... Someone needs to hold Miguel and Dulzura's hands and tell them straight to their faces, at this point 😭 but EEEEE, the way they're right there... so close. And Miguel wanting to hug Dulzura, and almost doing it! Also, what did you think about the Ben stuff? And Miguel's reaction to it? 🤭 Let me know because me personally, this was me

I also want to make a quick note about a detail from chapter 22 that I forgot to mention due to the timing (it being New Year's) and length of my author's note. The detail is regarding the knots on the bracelets Miguel and Dulzura gifted each other. During my little research and brain storming for gift ideas for them, I came across the bracelets and learned about the True Lover's Knot -- symbolizing friendship, affection, and love. 🥹

To conclude, thank you so much for reading NC. It truly means so much to me that there's still many of you reading this story despite my slow updates and it being almost 2 years since this fic first started (in July we will reach the 2 year mark). Also, thank you for keeping up with me and for being understanding and kind! ❤️

I hope you're all doing well and having a great Sunday so far. Pls take care of yourselves and know that I love you, pookies! 💖💕

Alondra❤️

p.s. I've been thinking about cleaning up the taglist since I feel like a lot of the people on it are no longer reading/not active. This might solve the issue that some readers have had, which is that they don't receive the notification despite being tagged. I will be making a post about this soon, asking anyone interested in being tagged to engage with the post, so keep an eye out for that if you want to be part of the new taglist :))

Taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

@natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

@vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9

@tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies

@coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme

@lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection

@kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

@aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis

@f1-hoff @llumetrii

@nina-from-317 @kavimoo

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 

He also never lets the husband thing go. 

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Blue ♡

[brrwat]

it’s late .

you’re already curled in his bed , limbs tangled in the sheets , lashes fluttering with sleep .

you’d waited for him — tried to stay awake in your tiny , frilly nightie — but it’s past midnight , and he works late .

miguel steps into the bedroom and stops .

“ tch , ” he mutters under his breath , shutting the door behind him . “ you always fall asleep like this ? ”

you stir , slow and sleepy , a soft little noise slipping from your throat as you turn your head .

“ mm . . . miggy ? ”

his shirt’s halfway unbuttoned , hair messy from work , eyes shadowed and dark . he’s already palming himself through his slacks .

“ you waitin’ for me like this , muñeca ? ” he asks , voice low and gruff . “ spread out like a fuckin’ invitation ? ”

you shift under the blankets , blinking slow . “ was waitin’ for you . . . tried t’stay awake . . . ”

“ looks like you tried real hard , huh ? ” he scoffs , pulling the sheets off you .

the nightie barely covers your thighs . his fingers drag up the inside of your leg with no warning — calloused , unrelenting , cupping your heat through your panties .

you whimper .

“ ‘ course you’re warm , ” he murmurs , voice sinking lower as he presses a hand against your core . “ always are . always soft and ready for me , even when your brain’s barely on . ”

you squirm under his touch , eyelids fluttering . “ miggy — ”

“ shhh . ” his weight sinks into the bed behind you , trapping you with a palm splayed over your hip . “ i’m not askin’ for permission , princesa . you gave that up the second you came to bed in lace . ”

he pushes your panties aside , cock already heavy and hard against your thigh as he grinds slow against you .

you gasp , still hazy and dazed , trying to wriggle back against him .

“ so fuckin’ tiny , ” he breathes into your neck , teeth grazing skin . “ look at you . barely awake and still greedy . ”

he slips in — just the tip — and your breath catches .

you’re stretched slow , deliberate , inch by inch as he groans behind you .

“ can’t ever take me all at once , ” he mutters , thrusting in deeper until your body tenses around him . “ you always act like it’s the first time . like you forget how fuckin’ big i am . ”

you whimper something soft , legs twitching .

“ yeah ? ” he huffs , hips rolling slow , deliberately shallow . “ you like that , don’t you ? like gettin’ split open before you’re even fully awake . "

" like knowin’ you belong to someone too old and too mean to give it to you nice . ”

your fingers twist in the sheets .

“ so sweet , ” he growls , voice close to your ear . “ so easy . this little body was made to take me . ”

you moan , back arching helplessly against him .

“ that’s it , ” he coos , even as his teeth catch the shell of your ear . “ go ahead . fall back asleep if you want . i’ll do all the work . ”

he fucks you slow and rough — deep , taunting , dragging it out while you go limp and pliant in his arms . like you were meant to be used .

est ؛ ₍ᐢᐢ₎

[spid3rslvt]

Miguel, who spoons you from behind, letting you calmly play with his hands. He doesn’t move or comment on it, only a small smile apparent on his face as he feels you caressing the tips of his fingers down to his palm. He might be quiet, but it’s clear he doesn’t mind your actions as he triggers his claws for you to look at.

[yournextbimbogf]

Miguel O’Hara would definitely be a slow-sex person i mean he likes to savoy every moment of having his body on top of yours, rolling his hips and plunging his cock into you.

“Your perfect amõr.” He groans out. It drives him crazy how your cunt clenches around him and how your breasts jiggle with every bounce.

“Mmm i love you mig” you yelp out. It felt so good to both of you, it wasn’t rough but it was passionate. A couple of moments later of moaning and groaning miguel mumbles. His lips press onto yours as his tongue explores your mouth. It felt like flames are burning inside both of your hearts.

“Fuck princesa i’m gonna cum..yeah you want that?” You nod your head in anticipation as he pounds into you faster. Instantly you feel his cum fill up your cunt. But he does care about you and wants for you to cum also no matter how overstimulated he is. He presses his thick thumb onto your clit nub and caresses.

“Mig..m’ gonna cum..hmph!” You manage to moan out, in an instant your eyes shut and you can feel your orgasm coming.

“cum for me baby, do it for me.” is what you hear from Miguel as you cum.

I know after sex he loves to comfort you and ask if your okay ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა!

“Are you okay? Do you need water? You did so good mi vida”

[krussyarts]

Magma stuff :>

I haven't drawn this much in a day in actual months..

[appleblueberry-pie]

PIE'S MASTERLIST & RULES

HI, welcome to my page! I love writing on here as my main platform and I enjoy all comments and support under my works, it gives me the boost I need to keep going!

MASTERLIST

JJK

Yandere Blabs #1

ATSV

Yandere Spider-Blabs #1

AOT

Yandere Sasageyo Blabs #1

ANSWERED ASKS

JJK

Yandere Asks #1

Yandere Asks #2

ASTV

Yandere Spider-Asks #1

AOT

Yandere Sasageyo Asks #1

MISCELLANEOUS

About Yandere Content Out There.

Lmao

Never thought this would happen

RULES

What I do write:

Yandere(obviously)

fem reader

gender neutral reader

sfw/nsfw

fluff

anything regular that's not Yandere

bdsm

What I don't write:

Gore

incest/pseudo incest

rape

trans reader or male reader(i don't think I know enough about how it would physically work, in terms of smut)

infantilism

starving/overfeeding

drug usage

Cheating

Part 2's

I hope you enjoy going through my stuff. There is one post I want to put on the masterlist that I literally can't find at all. But nonetheless, this is all of my work so far. I will continue adding works on here as I post more often. It's about time. I want to expand the things I write, but for now, it's just this.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 24

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: You spend the day touring apartments, but it doesn't go well. Word Count: 14.8K Warnings: angst; mention of death; grief; minor mention of not wanting to exist; some Spanish Spotify playlist (updated) Masterlist

Part 24

“I can't believe they're doing this! My sister warned me they'd try to do this, but I didn't believe her,” you hear a woman say as you reach the lobby of your apartment building.

After spending the last two hours or so cleaning the apartment since you got time to do it today, you decided to come downstairs to pick up the mail as a little break. The last thing you expected was to find several other tenants gathered in small groups in the lobby, however, all with similar expressions of anger and disbelief as they converse about something.

“That can't be good,” you mutter to yourself, walking to collect your mail. Once collected, you quickly look through it, only to find a letter from the apartment landlord. Expecting the worst already, you open the letter and read it, learning exactly what everyone is talking about. You sigh as you finish reading and look around, understanding why everyone is angry and in disbelief.

“They pulled one on us, didn't they?” a younger woman asks as she walks past you, clearly upset and trying to vent to anyone who will listen. “We stayed with them even after the fire, and this is what they do? Sell the building off to some company. Unbelievable.”

Gazing around and continuing to listen to the tenants, you ponder about the situation. In hindsight, even if it hurts to admit, this makes sense. The main reason why Peter and you initially decided to live here was due to the rent. It was reasonable, not overly high nor low. The area is considered pretty safe and there’s plenty of small businesses and nice things to do around it. Plus, the building itself had its charm due to the older structure, something you appreciated.

Over the years, however, you noted the rent remained reasonable. It didn’t spike like it did in other places despite the economy, or simply increased because of greed. That also meant that tenants couldn’t demand for extra stuff, of course. It was as the saying goes, you get what you pay for.

It was the reason why you painted the apartment when you first moved in while Peter worked on other things like fixing the kitchen cabinets and such. Ironically, all but one of the cabinets needed work. Peter and you assumed the previous renter had barely fixed it before moving out and that that was the reason why it was in good shape. Years later, that very same cabinet’s hardware grew loose through daily use and Miguel was the one who fixed it on the first day he ever came to your apartment to check on you. With a small smile, you recall the screwdriver in his hand; how it had looked normal in Peter’s hand, but looked like a toy in Miguel’s.

Either way, the apartment has been, in a way, for those who cannot afford the other prices. It’s been a stepping stone for many, giving them a safe and decent roof over their heads before they can afford something better. That was also the plan Peter and you had, but alas, life takes many turns and you’re still here, even without Peter.

With that said, it makes sense that this is happening now. You imagine the landlord isn’t filthy rich due to the mere fact that they kept the rent reasonable all these years, and so, the fire probably made them pull money from their own pocket despite insurance. Perhaps, they tried to work through it, but the debt caught up, leading them to selling the building.

The unfortunate thing for tenants is that this is possible and legal due to the contract including a ‘lease termination due to sale’ clause, meaning the leases don’t have to be honored by the landlord since they're selling.

With a grunt, you turn back around to go back to your apartment only to run into a tenant you haven’t seen in years. You apologize and steady the old woman. With a smile you step back, recalling the times Peter and you helped her carry her groceries to her floor. If your memory suits you right, you recall that the last time you saw her was a few months after Peter’s death. After that, you never saw her again, so you assumed she had moved in with her relatives, or perhaps placed in a nursing home. To say you’re surprised to see her after so many years, is an understatement.

“My, my, I thought you didn’t live here anymore, sweetheart,” the lady says, smiling at you.

“I can say the same. I haven’t seen you in years,” you reply, amused. “But I’ve been here, you know, getting by. Are you still living in the same apartment?”

“Yes, the same. It’s a shame we haven’t seen each other in so long,” the lady replies still smiling. “We stopped running into each other and look, we assumed we had moved out, only to realize we’ve been here all along.”

“True. Life has its funny moments, but I’m happy to see you again. You seem well,” you respond, looking over her. She really does seem to be in good health, despite the years.

“I feel great! Thankfully, my health has improved since the last time you saw me,” she shares, looking around at the commotion.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you reply truthfully just as another tenant walks by, shooting you a look of bewilderment. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what their problem is.

“Maybe it is a good thing this place is shutting down. Too many freaks,” the tenant mumbles, shaking their head as they start up the stairs.

“The beauty of living in apartments,” the lady says, making you laugh softly. “But well, seems like this time we must go for sure.”

“Seems like it,” you answer, looking around the lobby you’ve entered and exited thousands of times now. “You have a place to go?”

“Yes, I do. I have a secured place, no worries,” the lady says with a small sigh before looking at you. “Maybe it’s a push from your friend to get you out of here.”

You smile at her, wondering if she doesn’t remember that Peter was your boyfriend, not just a friend. “Maybe it is, hm? Maybe it’ll be a good change.”

“Perhaps… I must go, dear. My favorite show is about to start,” the lady says. “Take care, alright? If I don’t see you again, I wish you the best. Don’t forget to follow your heart and keep your promises, no matter what people say.”

“Oh, um, yes. I will, thank you, but hey, I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Surely, we’ll run into each other in the month and a half we have left here, right?” you ask, caught a little by surprise by the woman’s goodbye.

“Perhaps, my dear,” she says with a little chuckle before going up the stairs.

You shake your head and go up to your own apartment after a minute or two, trying not to think too much about how you soon won’t be unlocking your door anymore and enter. Inside, you place the mail on the kitchen counter and look around, taking in the apartment. The fact that you must leave — for good — hits you like a punch to the stomach suddenly. It's not even the fact that this place is where Peter and you started a new chapter in your lives. Not anymore. While you cherish the place for that fact, you realized a while ago that you could move forward despite that.

The main thing is that this has been your home for so long. You lived some of the most wonderful moments of your life here, but also, some of the darkest after Peter's death. Despite the older design and structure, it has its charm, too. It has personality.

Still gazing around, you wonder if maybe, your chapter at this place ended with the fire from over a year ago now. Maybe that's why you've found it so easy to spend nearly every day away since then. Maybe it's why, a big part of you, isn't as heartbroken about this development like you would've been years before.

Perhaps, you've merely been holding on to this place because it was comfortable and safe. You were already here, why bother getting out of your comfort bubble?

“Maybe this is a push from you,” you say, gazing at one of Peter's photos. “Maybe, it's time… To truly move forward.”

With a sigh, you settle down on the couch. You have a month and a half to move out. That’s what the new owners are granting the tenants. It seems plenty of time, but you know the days go by in a blur, so it’s best to start planning. You must find another place, which means apartment hunting. That alone takes hours to do and the mere thought of it almost gives you a headache. Then, there’s the carefully packing of everything and moving it elsewhere with the fear that it might break along the way somehow.

Okay, stressing about that isn’t going to make it better, but at least… It’s keeping your mind away from the fact that you’re leaving this place. Sure, you’re already somewhat less attached to the apartment, but you’re still sad about it. You wish you could’ve made the decision to leave willingly, not ushered out the door by some company, who probably only bought the building to demolish it and set up yet another quirky office building, or worse, some kind of industrial plant that over time, will force everyone to move out of the area due to health reasons.

You stand up, thinking about buying boxes to pack, but first, you need to find another place to live at. With a groan, you decide to return to Nueva York. Maybe talking about it with Miguel will provide you some clarity, or at least, it will make you feel better.

You stop in your tracks as the lady comes back to mind. Maybe you should ask her if she needs help packing. With that thought, you leave your apartment and head to her floor, looking at the numbers on the doors until you find hers.

After knocking, you wait patiently for a few seconds before the door opens revealing an entirely different person. An older woman than you greets you, looking a little curious about the stranger at her door.

“Hii, good morning, ma'am. I'm sorry to bother, but I'm looking for…” you trail off. You don't even know her name now that you think about it. Peter and you never learned it. You offer an apologetic smile and decide to explain to the lady in front of you who you're looking for.

“Oh, yes. That was Mrs. Fernandez. She lived here before I moved in a year ago or so. I switched apartments,” the lady says. “I used to live across from her.”

“But she said she was still living in the same apartment as always,” you answer, confused.

“She did. She lived in this apartment until she passed away.”

“Wait, what?” you ask, shocked.

“She passed away before the fire happened. I'm sorry,” the lady says apologetically.

“I… Thank you for your kindness, ma'am. Have a good day,” you manage to respond before walking away. You struggle to wrap your head around this. You just saw and spoke to her.

Almost in a daze, you walk back to your own apartment, remembering that you indeed, didn't see her when the fire took place despite her saying she had been here all along. It didn't click in your mind at all earlier. A shiver runs over your body as you process this, but you don't let yourself get spooked. At least, not too much. After all, she was always kind.

As you head back to your apartment, you understand why it felt like she was giving you a final goodbye; it was. You also realize why the tenant gave you a weird look and said the place was filled with ‘freaks’: in their eyes, you were talking with no one the entire time.

You decide to keep this to yourself for the time being. Maybe you'll share it in the future, but for now, you store the moment away in your head and travel to Nueva York.

In seconds, you find yourself in Miguel’s lab, finding him fidgeting with some equipment. He looks up, seeing the colorful spots of the portal flood part of the lab. “Hey, done cleaning?”

“Yes. Mostly,” you answer, approaching him. “I cleaned for two hours before deciding to take a little break to pick up the mail, and… That’s when I learned of some unexpected news.”

“What happened?” Miguel asks, sensing your mood is different from before you left earlier today.

“The landlord sold the building off. I have a month and a half to get out,” you reply, frowning a little as you lean on the platform for support.

“What?” Miguel asks in slight shock. “They can’t do that. There’s laws to protect renters.”

“There’s a lease termination due to sale clause, so it was always a possibility. Peter and I didn’t expect to stay there for so long, so it didn’t worry us much when we first started renting. After Peter, I didn’t think much of it either. The apartments didn’t seem to be going anywhere,” you explain. “I’m certain the fire had to do with it. Perhaps, insurance didn’t cover enough and the landlord had to use money from their own pocket, or they took out loans and the debt is too much. The rent has been consistent over the years, so, they were likely making a decent amount of money to live off comfortably, at least, but with that happening, they were likely forced to sell.”

“Damn,” Miguel responds, his shoulders dropping. He’s always liked your place, even from the first time he stepped into it. There was a certain allure to it on top of how welcoming it is. If it wasn’t because it’s a one bedroom, Miguel would’ve probably asked if he could stay there with this arrangement you have now of being roommates instead of the penthouse. “I’m sorry about that. I know how much you love the place. It’s… It’s truly so welcoming and cozy.”

“Right? I really like the older style. All the new apartments are too modern. There’s really no personality to the buildings these days. Everything is a carbon copy of the rest.”

“You say that, but the penthouse is like that,” Miguel comments, smiling a little.

“Yeah, but it makes sense considering we’re in a futuristic universe. Plus, there’s still personality because of the unique shapes some of the buildings have. And, I have seen some of the new buildings are starting to include baroque features.”

Miguel chuckles. “I hadn’t even noticed that. You like your buildings with personality, hm?” He sighs, thinking about your place again. “So… A month and a half to move out?”

“Yeah,” you reply, mindlessly staring off while running your fingers over his platform, thinking. “I need to find somewhere to rent.”

Miguel nods, still thinking. He’s tempted to propose something, but he’s not sure you’d be up for the idea, so he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he offers his support. “Well, you know you can count on me to help you pack and move things. And I can tag along during your apartment hunting, if you’d like.”

“Really?” you ask, looking up at him with gratitude.

“Did you expect anything less from me?” Miguel asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to get offended,” he playfully says, trying to lift your spirits.

“No, I didn’t expect anything less, but I also know you’re busy here.”

“Never busy for you,” Miguel replies. “I’ll be more than happy to help.”

“I’m grateful for your help and support,” you answer with a smile. “Truly.”

“Always,” Miguel answers with a smile. “Hey, how about some lunch? It’s on me.”

“I could go for some lunch,” you answer, suddenly feeling hungry now that food has been mentioned. “I think I burnt breakfast off with all the cleaning.”

Together — and after changing into regular clothes — Miguel and you head out to get lunch, opting for one of your favorite spots.

“I’m not gonna lie, this is making me feel a little better,” you say halfway through the meal. “Thank you for the pick-me-up.”

“I hoped it would boost your spirits, even just a little,” Miguel says, wiping his mouth clean. “I’m glad it worked. I hate to see you down.”

“Well, it worked,” you reply with a smile before you receive a notification.

“Something wrong?” Miguel asks, wondering if it’s someone from the spider gang.

“Uh, no,” you answer, looking at the notification to read it. “It’s from Harry. He says he just found out about the apartment building being sold.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow, lowering his utensil. “I wonder how he learned about it.”

“Maybe he went to look for me. There were a lot of people in the lobby talking about the news. I have no doubts people will be talking for the next two days about it, so it’s possible he overheard someone discussing it. Or, I don't know. Maybe it made it to the local news, or something like that.”

“Hm.”

“Oh…” You sigh and look up at him. “He’s offering to go with me tomorrow to see some places. He’s worried about the short amount of time I have to move out.”

“Well… That’s helpful of him,” Miguel begrudgingly states.

“And… He just sent me a list of places he knows are safe and affordable,” you continue, going over the list Harry just sent you. Shaking your head, you turn your focus back to the food.

“So, tomorrow?” Miguel asks.

“Yeah… I don’t know if I should accept, though. I was going to look online first and make a list from there. Then again, if I say no, I might make him feel bad by rejecting his help. Hm, I guess it doesn’t hurt to go look. Maybe it’ll give me a better idea about what’s out there. It’s been a hot minute since I went apartment hunting, I’m sure things are slightly different now,” you reply.

Miguel nods with a sigh. “It would be nice and he’s offering, so…”

You nod. “Yes… Ok, I’ll tell him after our lunch that I'd appreciate it,” you say, picking up your utensil to start eating again. You silently think about Harry’s offer, which you weren’t expecting at all. For some reason, you were only picturing Miguel coming along with you. You can even picture someone from the spider gang, but not Harry, so the thought of him being the one to accompanied you on your first day of apartment hunting seems odd to you.

Across from you, Miguel eats his food, thinking about the very same thing. It didn’t even cross his mind that Osborn would be helping you during this process, but he supposes that’s just because he doesn’t like to think about Osborn. Regardless of the time you’ve been in communication with him, Miguel can’t find it in himself to like him. He barely respects the man and that’s only because you’ve found it within yourself to give him a second chance. Miguel respects you and your decisions, including giving Osborn a chance, but that doesn’t mean he respects him after what he did. He just can’t and maybe he never will.

Taking a drink, Miguel convinces himself that tomorrow will be a fun day for you. Maybe you’ll have luck and find somewhere you truly like thanks to Osborn.

-♡-

The next day after breakfast, you say bye to Miguel and return to your own dimension to meet up with Harry. Full of enthusiasm, Harry drops by to pick you up in his car, driven by Mr. Kerr. Together, Harry and you visit various places from morning to noon. You keep an open mind, but inside, none of the places you visit fully win your heart. You hope to find a place that makes you feel like you did when you first found your current apartment, but despite looking at several locations, you simply don’t connect with any place.

It’s nearly three in the afternoon when Harry and you leave the last place on his list, feeling mentally tired.

“Oh, there’s another place I forgot to share with you. It’s close to your current place,” Harry says as you both get inside the car. “You wanna go?”

“Yeah, why not?” you answer as Mr. Kerr begins to drive, figuring that one more place won't hurt.

“Perfect, let me tell Felix the address. I think you may like this place a lot,” Harry states before he tells Kerr where to next.

Exhausted from touring multiple apartments, you don’t even process the address of the last apartment until Kerr pulls up. You blink as the apartment building comes into view, your heart filling with bitter sweetness.

“Come on,” Harry says, tapping your arm before slipping out of the car.

“Good luck, madam,” Kerr states.

“Thanks,” you reply, unbuckling your seat belt and climbing out.

“I hear these apartments are very nice. Plenty of room. You could even have an office here, or build a home library. Actually, that would be very cool,” Harry continues. “Imagine how much fun it would be to have your own library.”

“Ah, yes,” you say as you both walk to the apartment’s main offices. “That would be very cool,” you add, hearing Peter’s voice in your head. You shake your head, trying to clear your mind. A part of you almost wishes that no tours are available today, just to avoid having to see this place in the flesh, but to your luck, the manager is more than happy to show you around.

The tour starts with the exterior parts, like the gym and pool, before you're led to an empty apartment. You enter the space with Harry and the manager behind, barely listening to the latter as they tell you about the place.

You do a full turn, taking in the large open concept space that makes up the kitchen, dining, and living areas.

“Can you imagine a little you or a little me running around? Not here in this apartment. Somewhere bigger where we’ll have more space. Like that place a few blocks from here.”

You walk towards the windows and gaze out.

“The place with three bedrooms and the lovely view,” you remember saying, head pressed against Peter's chest while laying in bed.

“That one. One bedroom for us. One bedroom for each child.”

“And on this side we have the bedrooms. Three bedrooms to be precise,” the manager continues.

You nod and follow them, stepping inside the main bedroom that would be yours. You can almost see it, your furniture in this room and the clothes, both Peter’s and yours, hanging in the closet.

You exit and look at the other two empty bedrooms.

“So you want two kids?”

“I — Let’s skip that question,” Peter said one time with a small grin. “Just imagine for now, two kids. Two kids and walks to the park so they can play. Trips to the bookstore because if their mom likes to read, surely one of them will pick up the habit. And, a bigger apartment means we can have more bookcases. You’ve always wanted a little library, so we’ll have that there. You can go on patrols at night, and we’ll wait for you for bedtime. I’ll tell them stories about Spider-Woman and how I’m the biggest fan…”

“There’s a park nearby, too,” the manager shares. “I’m not sure how familiar you are with the area, but it’s a wonderful spot for families. Parents take their kids there in the afternoons to walk and play. It’s a truly safe area. And, there are many stores around here, so anything you could possibly need is within minutes of walking.”

“That’s… Really something,” you answer, turning to the kitchen area to inspect it. Your fingers trace the pretty counter before your eyes land on the stove and oven. You think about the cakes and other sweet treats you would’ve baked here once; the birthday parties you would’ve hosted for Peter and maybe, those two kids. You even see Peter by the stove, making pancakes in weird shapes for his family and making the little ones laugh.

“Any questions?” the manager asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, but no. You seem to have covered all the bases,” you answer after clearing your throat.

“We look forward to receiving your application. Please don’t hesitate to let us know if you have any concerns,” the manager continues on as the three of you head out. Before the door is closed, you glance back one more time and for a second, you see a snippet of what could’ve, would’ve, should’ve been your life.

The ride back to your apartment consists of Harry talking, sounding more excited about the apartments than you are. You try to make conversation, forcing small smiles while your brain is stuck on the last apartment. Years have passed since those nights when you used to talk with Peter about such things. You’ve healed, yet seeing the place in person was different than merely imagining it like you used to with him.

Back at your apartment, you push the door open and turn on the lights with Harry behind you. As always, Kerr stays outside by choice.

“So, I think I’ve talked enough. What about you? Did any of the apartments we looked at caught your eye?” Harry asks, sighing.

“They were all pretty and the amenities are pretty great. Rent seems decent for the locations they’re in…”

“I sense a but…” Harry says, raising an eyebrow.

Sighing, you shrug. “None of them stood out to me,” you answer, avoiding telling him about the last apartment while fidgeting with the bracelet Miguel gifted you for Christmas.

With a scoff, Harry glances at the bracelets on your wrist. He noticed them the day you met with him after the holidays to celebrate, noting that he hadn’t seen them before. Harry’s mind was quick to pinpoint the responsible person for the new gift: Miguel. “You must find somewhere to live. Time is ticking, you know? I mean, what if you don’t find anything that stands out to you and when you do decide on a place, there are no apartments available there? Where are you going to stay? Is your plan to go live with that Miguel guy again?”

“That Miguel guy is my best friend,” you state firmly, raising an eyebrow at Harry’s tone.

“I haven’t even met him.”

“Harry… There will be a time for everything. Besides, Miguel is very busy.”

“What does he do?” Harry inquires, crossing his arms across his chest.

“That is not for me to say. When you meet him in the future, he can tell you himself,” you answer, turning around to walk to your kitchen, trying to avoid giving Harry any more information than necessary. “About the apartments, I’m sure I will find a place. I still have time.”

Harry follows you, standing across the main kitchen counter. “Why are you so secretive about him when he’s your ‘best friend’? Why can’t you tell me what he does for a living? Are you hiding something?”

“What?” you reply, confused by the shift in the conversation.

“Are you and him something else?” Harry asks seriously, staring you down from across the counter.

“What exactly do you mean by that, Harry?”

“Are you dating him?” Harry questions, going straight to the point.

Gazing back at Harry, you’re left speechless, even though his question shouldn’t affect you. After all, how many times have people mistaken Miguel and you for something? Too many to count, if you’re honest with yourself, that you’re no longer shocked. Even the first time, you don’t recall yourself being speechless, but rather worried about Miguel’s reaction. After seeing that he didn’t mind, you moved on from it pretty quickly.

So, then, why does the assumption coming from Harry make you feel different, and not in a good way? Swallowing, you realize it’s because it feels like you’re being accused of something immoral, which isn’t even true, and that is the great difference from all the other times.

“I’m sorry… What?” you question after a moment of silence, recovering. Internally, you hope you’re misreading his words after a long day of touring apartments.

“Please, Y/N. You go and live with this guy for God knows how many months after the fire and right now, you don’t even seem bothered by the fact that in a month and a half, you’ll have nowhere to go if you don’t find a new apartment. It’s like, you don’t even care. I can’t help but think that it’s because you already have a plan — you and this Miguel. You’re planning on staying at his place again, are you not?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” you respond calmly to reestablish your boundaries, to give him a chance to drop this.

“Well, guess what? I don’t appreciate that guy. I don’t appreciate you bringing him here,” Harry snaps suddenly, staring at you like he’s never done before. His eyes, usually relaxed and expressing care, are glaring at you with pure disbelief and anger. “You bring him here — to Peter’s home. He helps you assemble furniture, like Peter used to. You bake him treats and cakes, like you used to for Peter. You smile at him like you used to smile at Peter! It’s all in the photos. Then, you went and lived with this guy; had your little moments, like going out to buy groceries for the two of you while babysitting his friend’s kid — as if you’re his little wife. What would Peter think, huh?”

Harry continues on, his voice growing harsher. Behind him, the apartment’s door opens, revealing Kerr. A look of concern and shock is evident on the older man’s face, as if he can’t wrap his mind around this version of Harry, much like you.

“Sir — I think that is enough. You’ve had stressful days due to work, don’t say things you don’t mean and can’t take back out of frustration and exhaustion,” Kerr states firmly, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder to placate him, only for the latter to shrug it away with a scowl.

“Don’t interfere in this, Felix. I’ve had enough and she needs to hear this. This is unacceptable,” Harry spats, turning back to you. “What would poor Peter say about this? About you bringing some other man to his home, the same one you don’t seem to give a damn about nor spend time at anymore! Oh yes, I have noticed that.” Harry scoffs, noticing your confusion when he brings that up, still glaring at you. “Do you know how many times I have come over to hang out with you, only to not find you here? One of your neighbors, by pure luck, happened to tell me the other day that you don’t seem to be here much anymore after the fire. That you don’t seem to sleep here anymore. I mean, seriously? Do you not give a damn about Peter anymore, or what? Have you forgotten about him because of this guy you now call your ‘best friend’? I find that insulting, quite frankly. How you can replace Peter — Peter, for God’s sake — for that random man you’ve known all but three seconds? And for what? Is it because you’re fucking him, or are you still longing for some happily ever after with another man that isn’t Peter?” Harry shakes his head in disbelief, acting like he has never done before. He runs a hand through his hair, filled with an unexplainable frustration and anger. “What would Peter think?”

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Everything about this moment is wrong, so wrong. In all the years you knew Harry before Peter’s death, you never once heard him raise his voice nor grow this angry. A rush of cold runs over your limbs, leaving you with an array of emotions; anger, betrayal, disappointment, hurt, and disgust. You question how the day turned into this, how Harry went from being all too happy to go with you to all the apartments to this version you don't recognize.

“What would Peter think?” you repeat quietly, holding Harry’s gaze. “What would Peter think?” A scoff escapes from your lips, your eyebrows furrowing. “You dare ask me that, Harry?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You dare ask me that? You of all people,” you reply, stalking closer. “If you have to question yourself what Peter would think, then, you either didn’t know him at all, or you’ve forgotten what kind of man he was. He would be happy — comforted even — to know that I moved forward and found someone to be with. He wasn’t a selfish man, the way you seem to be painting him right now with your silly and repetitive question. He was one of the kindest and sweetest men I’ve known in my whole life. He wasn’t selfish. Never was.” You state firmly. “About Miguel, know this. I have no obligation to tell you anything that I don’t want to. You forget that you and I are — were — still growing reacquainted after years of losing touch, and even if we were attached to the hip, that wouldn’t make you entitled to know what I’m doing, much less who I bed, but let me entertain you today, Harry.”

“Madam — That’s not necessary, please, Mr. Osborn is merely under a lot of stress —” Kerr tries once again, hoping to dissipate the argument.

“No, let me clear this up for him, Mr. Kerr. For your information, I’m not ‘fucking’ Miguel, but if I was, that wouldn’t be your business. The same way it’s not my business what you do in your bedroom, Harry.” You shake your head at him in disbelief. “It’s sad that you’ve harbored this dislike for him when you don’t even know him, but especially when he has been there for me. Miguel and my other friends have supported me, taken me in when I was all alone, Harry. They’re family, whether you like it or not. And guess what? I know in my heart that wherever Peter is at, he’s more than content to see me happy, surrounded by people who love and cherish me, so please don’t make these accusations when you don’t know anything, alright? Especially not when I could turn the question back on you.”

“Turn the question on me?” Harry asks in disbelief at your words, his demeanor faltering.

“Yes.” You reply agitated. “What would Peter think of you? About your actions, or rather, lack of?”

“I don’t —” Harry starts, his angry expression fading away and replaced by an anxious look.

“What would Peter think about the fact that you ghosted me after his funeral?” you interrupt.

“I — Y/N —” Harry tries, his face growing pale at your words.

“You ghosted me, Harry. You disappeared when I needed someone the most,” you state. “You… Do you know how much it hurt me that that day was the last time I saw you? Right after Peter’s funeral, when I was... At the lowest I had ever been in my life.” Inhaling sharply, you look away as you recall that day, all your memories flooding your mind like water through a broken dam. “I don’t know when it became day. I was physically here and yet… I wasn’t. I got dressed in autopilot, put on my black clothes and noted that it was raining. I couldn’t help but feel that it was Peter’s doing to help me through the day. He knew I love rainy days.”

“Y/N… Please,” Harry whispers, shaking his head.

“Did you know… I don’t even know who came to pick me up?” you ask, turning to face him with a faint yet bitter smile. “I don’t recall who ushered me out the door, who I walked down the stairs with, whose car I got in to get to the cemetery. To this day. Years later. All I know is that one moment, I was here, at our apartment. Our home, Harry. This was our home, holding all his belongings; his clothes in the closet, the record player with the last vinyl he listened to, his books, and so much more. Suddenly… I was at the cemetery with people’s hands on my shoulders trying to give me comfort and reassurance as I gazed at his casket. All that comforting and warm touch, yet none of it could mend my broken heart nor melt this icy coldness that clung to me from the moment he died.”

Tears spill down your face without your knowledge “I never expected I would be doing that so soon… Burying the man I thought I’d marry one day and have children with, but there I was; burying him and silently wishing — begging — the Earth would swallow me whole with him.”

“Please don’t — I can’t —” Harry mumbles in front of you, his eyes growing teary. Behind him, Kerr watches you, listening to your every word in silence.

“My heart was… Utterly shattered already, but when I saw the casket being lowered… It felt like my world was ending right before my eyes. He was gone. Just like that. I recall thinking, it was like a star in the sky that shone so bright, but no… Peter was more. He was the whole sky. And he was gone, somehow.” Your eyes close, tears streaming down your face. “Before I knew it, more people were offering me their condolences before departing. I remember you coming to me. I remember it well because it was the last time I saw you in years. Do you remember it?” you ask him, opening your eyes.

“Y-Yes…” Harry murmurs, his person entirely different from minutes ago.

“You held me in your arms, tightly. It was the first moment in that entire day that I felt a small sliver of comfort. You even kissed the top of my head as we both cried in silence and I thought in that moment, that you were probably the only other person who could understand my pain because you were like brothers. All too soon, however, you released me and stepped back with a single look I misinterpreted. Somewhere inside of me, I assumed we’d be there for each other, but in reality, that was your goodbye. You squeezed my shoulders after that and walked away from my life.”

“Y/N, I can’t — You don’t know—” Harry whispers, his eyes damp with tears.

“I didn’t know that was going to be the last time I’d see you in years, so I… I stood there in front of Peter’s burial site, under that rain I believed was a little gift from Peter himself. I don’t know how much time went by nor did I care. I could’ve stood there for a millennia and I wouldn’t have noticed. Vines could’ve grown and wrapped themselves around my feet, legs, waist, chest, and head… And I wouldn’t have felt a single thing because I couldn’t feel anything beyond hurt and heartbreak. I wondered how I could ever live life with that feeling; how could such pain ever cease from my heart? I questioned how I would survive when it felt like I was drowning in a sea of misery and sorrow, but most of all, I questioned why God stood me up,” you state hoarsely. “Why did it have to be Peter?”

“I know, Y/N, I wondered that, too,” Harry mutters, his voice shaking. “You don’t need to go on, please, I didn’t mean to bring this up.”

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand, pressing forward. “I didn’t get an answer then and I doubt I would’ve received one that day, anyway, but I’ve healed since then, which I’m certain Peter would be glad about, and have concluded that unexplainable things will happen in life. Good and bad moments. All we can do is continue to live and learn, if not for ourselves, then, for our loved ones who have departed all too soon. In their memory. That’s what Peter wanted, Harry. He once told me that,” you say, recalling your sweet Peter’s words before he died in your arms that fateful day. “He made me promise to move forward and that if I happened to find someone to love again, to love.”

Harry’s eyes widen, tears streaming down his face, when he hears your words. “I — I didn’t know he said that.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t speak about things you’re ignorant about,” you answer, struggling not to glare at him. “Despite my reluctance and heartbreak, I have healed and it allowed me to meet new people — people who have become a family to me, no matter what you think. They’ve been there for me; become my family. Where were you when I needed you the most? I’m not trying to throw back your words at you, but what would Peter think about that?”

“You don't understand — You were likely going to push me away, anyway,” Harry replies, attempting to defend himself and his actions. “Just like you pushed everyone else away.”

With a scoff, you raise your chin. “Maybe I would've tried to do the same, that is a possibility. Or, maybe I wouldn't have, Harry, had it not been so easy for you to walk out of my life when you knew you were significant to me as well. I knew you from childhood. I trusted and cared about you, yet you didn't seem to care.” You inhale sharply, deciding you've had enough. “I have nothing else to say nor do I feel like listening to you anymore. Please leave my home.”

“Y/N, please listen to me. Look, I know what I said was —” Harry starts, but stops when you raise a hand, gesturing for him to stop.

“You’ve insulted me with your accusations in my own home, Harry, despite the fact that I gave you a second chance to be in my life again. Please leave.”

“I… I understand,” Harry states with a solemn look on his face, resigned when he hears your tone. After a few seconds, he turns to leave with Kerr behind him. He opens the door, but before leaving, Harry turns one last time. “I always cared about you, too, by the way. I still do despite my hurtful words.”

Your eyes close when you hear the door close at last. You don't know if Harry was expecting a reply, or perhaps hoping for you to change your mind about him leaving. Either way, it didn't work. His words have hurt you by bringing back memories you hadn't thought about in a long time. Even when you first ran into him after years of not seeing him, you somehow managed to block out those parts from that day.

Finding yourself alone at your apartment, you let yourself cry freely as his words echo in your head.

“What would poor Peter say about this? About you bringing some other man to his home, the same one you don’t seem to give a damn about nor spend time at anymore!”

Is that what it looks like for others around you? You wonder if people around the apartment building are judging you if they have seen Miguel. Do they think you’re with him and find it distasteful despite the years that have passed since Peter’s death?

“… How you can replace Peter — Peter, for God’s sake — for that random man you’ve known all but three seconds? And for what? Is it because you’re fucking him, or are you still longing for some happily ever after with another man that isn’t Peter?”

Miguel is your best friend and nothing more, so Harry was wrong about that, but especially to refer to the possibility of something between you so cruelly and vulgar in your presence. The happily ever after comment… Is it so wrong to consider that one day with someone? To still long for marriage and maybe children, even if Peter will never have the opportunity to experience it?

Crying, a thought comes to your mind. Before you know it, you’re already stepping out into Miguel’s lab. Through your tears, you gaze at his platform where his computer is at, surrounded by several screens. Relieved that Miguel isn’t here, you approach the platform and begin to type, pulling up the database containing every single universe discovered so far. Your heart races as you begin to type your first name, pondering if this is even a good idea. It’s too late to turn back when only two results come up.

The first result is you, confirmed by a picture that was taken of you when you were first recruited to the Spider Society. The second result is a variant of yourself, the photo a courtesy of Lyla’s work. Your chest heaves as you look at the second result. You never felt the need to know if there was another you, but right now, you do.

The drumming of your heart rings in your ears as you open the variant’s file, only growing louder when you see it, or rather a photo of him attached to your variant’s file.

Peter.

Not just any Peter, but one that looks exactly like your Peter used to.

“No…” you whisper, dismissing the thought that comes to mind while erasing your search history. You know you shouldn’t, yet how did that old saying go?

Right.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Without a second thought, you open a portal and walk into it.

-♡-

Over an hour later, Miguel returns to his lab after a mission that came up out of nowhere thanks to an annoying and persistent variant of the Green Goblin, who refused to be taken back to his own universe. His steps are heavy as he reaches his platform, feeling exhausted after running around the city pursing the anomaly.

With a deep sigh, Miguel sits down and wonders how you’re doing. He knows touring a single apartment alone takes some time, so he didn’t expect you to be back so soon. Still, he checks his gizmo for any messages, but there are none. Well, at least not from you.

With a grumpy frown, Miguel turns to his screens, remembering that Lyla is going through maintenance. He decided to do it today because well, he hasn’t done it in a while, even though it’s necessary. If only he hadn’t done it today, though… He could’ve asked Lyla to check on you, that way his worries would be placated. A quick message from him would probably do the trick, too, but Miguel doesn’t want to distract you with his messages nor does he want to intrude on your time with Osborn.

With another sigh, Miguel rubs his chest lightly as he opens up screens to review, feeling something he can’t quite explain. Earlier, he had the same feeling during the chase of the anomaly, so sudden and deep Miguel almost felt like he was drowning. He pushed through it, certain it was probably only the adrenaline doing a number on him. That had to be it.

“Get to work,” Miguel tells himself begrudgingly, knowing he has a lot of work and reminding himself that you’re alright. There’s no reason to be worried. With that, Miguel starts working, reading and analyzing reports on his marigold-colored screens.

Despite his poor concentration at first, Miguel manages to eventually get into the reports, making time pass. It’s barely an hour later when Lyla’s maintenance is completed at last, reminding him to take a break from the reports to confirm that everything ran smoothly.

“I'm backkkk!” Lyla says in a singsong voice. “Better than before.”

Miguel rolls his eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “No bugs. Welcome back, Lyla.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Lyla replies, bowing dramatically. “You guys can calm down. I'm sure you all missed me, but no worries. The smartest AI assistant in Nueva York is back.”

“Yes, I'm sure everyone was doing a countdown for your return,” Miguel answers jokingly.

“Ha ha, very funny, boss. I bet you're the one that was actually waiting for me because you need me to be your eyes.”

“I don't know what that means.”

“It means,” Lyla starts, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “You're probably stressing out about Dulz hanging out with that Osborn dude all day.”

“I — I'm not — I've been working just fine,” Miguel responds, looking away.

“Right, so you're definitely not going to ask me to ensure that Dulz is safe and sound, then.”

Miguel huffs, annoyed that Lyla knows how he gets when you're away with Osborn. It’s not some weird friend jealously. It’s mere dislike and distrust for the man, even if you keep giving him the privilege of being part of your life. “Lyla.”

“You gotta ask nicely,” she replies with a smirk.

“Why are you like this?” Miguel questions.

“You're the one that created me.”

“Please, check on Dulzura,” Miguel answers instead, wasting no more time.

“I'm on it!” Lyla eagerly responds, humming as she starts working, but stopping abruptly. “Uh-oh.”

“What is it?” Miguel asks, immediately standing up, tense.

“There seems to be a problem…” Lyla replies, looking at Miguel with an expression that only means trouble.

“What’s going on?” Miguel asks, impatient.

“It seems… Dulz has gone MIA,” Lyla reveals.

Miguel feels like the air has been knocked out of his chest as soon as Lyla is done speaking.

MIA?

“Pull it up on the screens,” he orders, trying to stay composed.

There has to be a reason for that, surely. A bug in your gizmo, perhaps. Miguel’s maroon eyes snap to the screen, his heart sinking as he sees your icon for himself in grey, symbolizing your location is unknown.

“We need to locate Osborn,” Miguel states. “He's supposed to be with her.”

“Should we call for backup?” Lyla asks as Miguel opens a portal to travel to your dimension.

“No, no backup. We don't need to worry the others. Maybe her gizmo is simply malfunctioning,” Miguel answers, trying to be reasonable despite the alarms in his head.

Too impatient, Miguel rips the portal open with his suit’s spines, his heart beating heavily against his chest as he steps out on a rooftop across your apartment first to see if you're there, but the apartment is dark.

“Do you need the address?” Lyla asks, seeing the same thing before noting that his talons have extended at the sight.

“I already know where he lives,” Miguel states before swinging away, moving as fast as he can to Osborn's place. Perhaps it's wrong, but ever since you decided to give Osborn a chance, Miguel made sure to figure out where he lives. Something inside told him to do it, so he followed his instincts, hoping he'll never need to pay Osborn a visit.

“Is this the place?” Lyla asks as Miguel lands on a rooftop, immediately activating a holographic spider drone from his gizmo to spy through Osborn’s windows.

“Yes.”

Without a word, Lyla nods, understanding the implication; Harry has never been trusted by Miguel. To be fair, not even the rest of your friends do.

Fully locked in, Miguel maneuvers the spider gadget, getting a view through his gizmo. The spider crawls down the wall to the window and begins to record. Thankfully, there are no curtains to obstruct the view, granting Miguel clear visibility of Osborn's apartment, specifically his living room. He observes in silence, finding no movement, even though the lights are on.

“Where are you?” Miguel murmurs, his heart heavy as he thinks of you.

The spider moves to another window, this one displaying a bathroom. It's empty and dark. Miguel moves on to the next one, immediately spotting Harry sitting on the ground with his back against a wall. His knees are pressed to his chest, face covered by his arms. It doesn’t take longer than a second for Miguel to notice the way Osborn’s body shakes, seemingly crying by himself.

Seeing this, Miguel's eyes narrow into slits. He finds it harder to breathe as his mind goes to dark places. He immediately switches the spider back to a hologram in order to allow it to slip past the glass to gather any audio.

“I'm sorry, Peter, I'm sorry,” Harry cries, his entire body shaking. “I failed you before and I've failed you again. I hurt her… What you loved most in this world. I hurt her again — worse this time. There's no turning back now.”

“No…” Miguel barely whispers, eyes wide at Harry's words. “No, no, no… Dulzura.”

“Miguel —” Lyla starts before Miguel growls in anger and hurt.

“Ése hijo de su — [That son of]” Miguel grits out, finding it even harder to breathe now with the misinterpretation of Harry’s statement. His movement stutters when your face floods his mind. He sees you; your sweet smile and those eyes that could make him fall to his knees.

“Miguel. We need to approach this carefully,” Lyla states. “We can't act irrationally.”

“Irrationally?” Miguel snaps. “Did you not hear him? He did something to her.”

“Lyla is right,” another voice says, tearing Miguel's attention away from Lyla. He turns around, only to find every single one of your friends on the rooftop with him; from Jess, who spoke up, to Peter to Noir to Margo.

“Lyla informed us.” Peter clarifies. “We came as soon as we got the message.”

“I see.” Miguel doesn't even care Lyla sent for backup despite his preference from earlier. The situation has changed now and everyone is needed. “I'm going in,” Miguel states.

“No. You're too… Affected. We can't let things escalate,” Jess answers, using her second in command voice despite her own concerns about you.

“That man needs to be interrogated,” Miguel snaps, fueled by pain and anger.

“Not by you, though. We need someone calmer,” Hobie intercepts with a deep frown on his face. “I think some of us are more likely to act on our thoughts right now.”

With a grunt, Miguel knows exactly what Hobie means. He's a heartbeat away from simply gliding down the building’s wall with his talons and breaking into Osborn's place through the window to speak to him.

“I'll do it,” Miles volunteers, standing up straighter. “I'll say another friend and I were waiting for her and she never showed up. I'll tell him we knew she was going to spend time with him, so that's why we came to him.”

“Yes, good. I'm going in, too,” Miguel states again, but Peter shakes his head no.

“Your eyes would give you away. You're also wearing the suit. Miles and I are dressed in civilians’ clothes, so I'll go in with him. We can't let Harry see anyone dressed in their hero suits. It could expose Dulz's identity as Spider-Woman and we don't want to cause her any problems, Miguel,” Peter carefully says, attempting to drive home the idea that you're alive and well for everyone, especially Miguel.

“Please…” Miguel starts, his eyes narrowed but betraying his hurt and worry. “Go and talk to him. Find out everything you can. We need to find her.”

“I know,” Peter answers with a nod, determined. “We’ll be back.”

“Lyla, please check if Dulzura’s location has been turned on again,” Miguel commands as everyone else huddles around him to watch the live recording from the spider gadget, watching Osborn still crying.

“Her location is still unknown,” Lyla reports back.

Miguel sighs, gazing at the buildings around him and wondering where you’re at while trying to stay positive despite the circumstances. His attention turns to Harry again when he hears the door bell ring through the device, announcing Miles and Peter���s arrival.

“Get up and answer,” Jess quietly urges Osborn, betraying her own worry.

To everyone’s relief, Osborn wipes his face and stands up to check the door. Without trouble, Miguel orders Lyla to project the view from Miles and Peter’s gizmos just as Osborn opens the front door, looking confused by the two strangers.

“May I help you?” he asks with caution, his voice hoarse.

“Hey, there, buddy,” Peter starts, trying to sound like his usual friendly self, though everyone listening can tell that that’s not his real voice. “We’re sorry to bother you, but we’re Y/N’s friends. She was supposed to meet with us after she finished touring apartments with you, but she didn’t show up nor has she responded to our messages. Our other mutual friends haven’t been able to reach her either. Do you happen to know if she went somewhere else?”

“What?” Harry asks, taking a step back. “You can’t reach her?”

“No. She hasn’t reply to any of our messages,” Miles answers.

Harry sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “God, what I have done?”

“We’re just trying to figure out where she is… We want to make sure she’s alright,” Peter continues, fighting the urge to glare at Harry’s response. “Think you can tell us anything?”

Harry opens his mouth, but a voice behind Peter and Miles prevents him from saying anything just yet. “Good evening, gentlemen. Mr. Osborn has been under a lot of stress lately.”

“Who the shock is that?” Miguel mutters from the rooftop before he, along with everyone else, see the person behind the voice when Peter turns around, giving them a look through his gizmo.

“My name is Felix Kerr,” Kerr introduces himself, offering a small nod. “Forgive me for my interruption, but I went out to retrieve some food and medicine for Mr. Osborn. He’s been feeling unwell recently, you see, and today was… Not great either.”

“I see,” Peter replies simply. “We’re sorry to hear Mr. Osborn is doing unwell. We don’t mean to disturb, but we know you were the last known person to see Y/N. It’s been hours since any of us has heard anything from her.” Peter states, turning to look at Osborn again. “As stated, we want to know she’s alright.”

“Right…” Harry answers, giving Kerr a look before turning to face Miles and Peter. “Please, come in. I seem to have forgotten my manners. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, his reaction raising eyebrows at the rooftop. He seems so polite, maybe too much. “If you wish to take a seat.”

“That’s kind of you, sir, but we don’t want to overstay,” Miles answers.

“Very well,” Harry states, inhaling sharply. “I… I don’t know where Y/N is, but I know she was upset when I left her apartment because we had an argument. An argument I started.”

“About what?” Miguel hears Peter question, prompting Harry to summarize what happened back at your apartment; from his accusations to your response.

“She was angry and hurt,” Harry says, lowering his face. “I don’t know what led me to say such horrible things. I promise I care about her. I really do,” he desperately says to Peter and Miles, his eyes showing remorse and guilt. “I’m not making excuses, but I haven’t been myself lately. I don’t know how I could say such things. I failed her once more.”

“At least, he admits it,” Miguel grumbles, his hands curled in fists. He has half a mind to go downstairs and give Osborn a piece of his mind for everything he said to you, especially when he thinks about how Harry’s version is only a summary and his own perspective. He’s probably leaving out details to save face.

“If she’s not with him nor at her apartment, then where is Y/N?” Pav asks, worried.

“With her location off, she could be anywhere,” Margo answers with a defeated sigh. “Anywhere in the multiverse.”

Hearing that, Miguel lifts his face to the sky. The weight of that reality is soul crushing. You truly could be anywhere right now, all alone and hurting because of this man.

“What if… She ran away and never comes back?” Spider-Ham states from somewhere, voicing an inner fear within Miguel, before receiving a hush from Noir.

That would end him, Miguel knows that. Even when it’s just a few hours away from you, Miguel misses you.

He misses you like the moon misses its stars in a starless night.

“We will find her,” Miguel says suddenly, turning to look at everyone. “We all heard the things he told Dulzura. She’s hurting and needs us. She needs comfort, just like she has comforted us over the years when we’ve been feeling down. We must find her.”

Your friends nod, their faces expressing their worry.

With that said, everyone on the rooftop returns to Miguel’s lab to decide who will search what universe in order to avoid overlooking one. Peter and Miles join the search a bit later after successfully convincing Harry to not make a police report just yet by reassuring him that you’re likely taking some time alone due to the argument. As to Miguel, he assigns to himself all the universes that the two of you have visited together, hoping to find you himself.

Universe after universe, Miguel searches the cities. He knows it’s useless, but mentally, he calls for you; asking you to, please, return home.

Desperation courses through Miguel. It seems to grow with every passing second and even more when the others report back with no leads. He stops on a rooftop, not sure if it’s the tenth or eleventh universe, and scans the city he’s currently at. There’s so many universes…

Feeling a knot in his throat, Miguel clears his throat loudly. He won’t cry. You’ll be back. You must, right? How many times have you told him that he’s stuck with you? You wouldn't just disappear and leave your life. You wouldn't just leave him behind. You will be back.

With determination, Miguel fixes his posture and continues looking through universes. He doesn’t know how much time has passed before he suddenly receives a notification. His eyebrows furrow as he realizes it’s your location; you’ve started to share it again.

The simple sight of that fills Miguel with such a great relief, so much his hands are shaking. He quickly opens a portal to you, the universe identification number looking oddly familiar. It comes to him then, making him stop in his tracks. The universe you’re in was only discovered two days ago and it’s not just any universe. His heart sinks, understanding why you’re there: It’s the only universe, in the entire database of the Spider Society, in which a version of your Peter exists in.

A strange fear forms in Miguel’s chest with this knowledge. What if, after all these years of healing, Harry’s hurtful words impacted you so deeply that you’re thinking of doing something you shouldn’t? Miguel swallows hard as the idea sinks in.

His thoughts are interrupted a second later by another notification. It’s a message sent directly from you.

“I’m home.”

Home.

That’s all Miguel needs to know before he travels back to his universe, directly to his home. He steps out into the living room, finding it empty. When he doesn’t hear any noise from the kitchen either, he heads for the stairs, climbing four steps at a time.

In a hurry, Miguel reaches your room, finding your bedroom door slightly open, allowing a sliver of light out into the hallway. Gently, he presses his fingers against the door and pushes it open. Miguel’s face softens as soon as his maroon eyes find you at last, sitting on your bedroom floor.

You look up at him, eyes puffy from crying with an open box in front of you, the one that contains Peter’s belongings.

“I’ll let everyone know she’s safe,” Lyla says quietly, appearing from his gizmo. “And that she needs time alone, at least for tonight.”

Miguel nods, his gaze glued to you. “Dulzura,” he whispers softly.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper back with a shaky voice. “I should’ve messaged you earlier, but I…”

“I know, Dulzura,” he answers, approaching you before dropping to his knees in front of you. The sight of your puffy eyes and visible heartache… Miguel wants nothing but to hold you in his arms and dry your tears.

“Harry…” you start.

“I know,” Miguel repeats. “We were looking for you and went to see him. Miles and Peter spoke to him. He told us what happened. A summary.”

You nod, lowering your gaze to the box. “I… I was so hurt, but also so angry. How he dared say those things to me,” you share before inhaling deeply, feeling a knot form in your throat once more.

“Rightfully so. He should’ve never said those things,” Miguel states gently, offering reassurance. “He had no right to and on top of that, he’s wrong. Everyone who knows you well, knows you love and care about Peter, just like Peter does for you from wherever he is.” Miguel scoots closer, his heart aching with and for you. “He looks after you, Dulzura. I know that. And, from everything you’ve shared with me, I know he’s more than happy to see you today like this; smiling and living your life because that’s what he wanted. Remember?”

Sniffling, you nod. “Yes. The promise.”

“The promise,” Miguel repeats, nodding. “You’ve honored part of his promise. You’re living life and making memories. You’re doing what you’ve told me before; you’re living for him, too. In his memory.”

You lift your gaze and smile softly, your eyes teary again. “Thank you for reminding me. I know he’s happy for me. He wasn’t selfish, never was, so I don’t know why Harry would say that. It made me angry… He said other things, too, and that got to me.”

“What things?” Miguel inquires.

“He asked if I was still hoping for a happy ever after with another man that wasn’t Peter,” you answer. “He asked if you and I were something else. If we were dating and if I was, if I had forgotten about and replaced Peter.”

Beside you, Miguel fights the urge to scowl. He silently wonders if Osborn expected you to remain alone forever as some sort of loyalty test to Peter when the man himself asked you a very different thing, or if it came from jealously. Could it be that Harry likes you more than a friend and sees Miguel as a threat?

Miguel swallows. That would be an unfounded jealously, at least to Miguel. You and him are only best friends. There’s no reason for Osborn to think anything else of your friendship. Then, again… The number of times you’ve been mistaken for a couple are high. Maybe that’s why Harry thinks that.

“Don’t let him get to your head,” Miguel says, his hands itching to comfort you as he watches you dry your tears.

“He succeeded,” you admit. “I wondered if it was wrong that I’m open to the idea of one day finding a man to start a life with once again, to experience parenthood when Peter didn’t get to.”

At your teary confession, Miguel’s eyes soften further. “Oh, Dulzura,” he murmurs tenderly, his own throat beginning to feel like barb wire. “It’s not wrong at all if one day you find someone. You…” Miguel continues, struggling to speak. “You of all people deserve to be happy, you hear me? You deserve happiness. Love. I know so, and I know Peter wanted that for you as well.”

“That — that means a lot to me,” you murmur, your eyes glistening. “I still… He put that thought in my head, which then led me to wonder if another version of me existed.”

Swallowing, Miguel nods. The other Peter.

“I checked in the database, I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I had to know. I needed to know. I found that there’s only one variant of me.”

“Yes,” he replies, treading carefully. “The universe was only discovered two days ago. I was trying to find a way to tell you. I… I didn’t know if it would cause you…” Miguel trails off, unsure how you feel about it, or what you’re thinking right now. He wants to ask if you saw the other Peter, if something in you has changed at the knowledge of his existence. The uncertainty is making him feel strange, in a very bad way.

“I…” you start, your tears beginning to flow more. “I’m sorry.” You apologize again, covering your face as you begin to cry harder.

The sight of you crying, your body curled inwards, and your chest heaving from such sentiment utterly shatters Miguel. He never wishes to see you like this again, ever.

Driven by his feelings, any last bit of restraint within Miguel evaporates.

One second, Miguel is kneeling by your side and the next one, he's sitting down and gently, but urgently, holding you by the arms. With care, he pulls you into him, his mind and heart determined. He makes space for you between his legs, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you.

Gently swaying back and forth, Miguel hears your crying stutter followed by a sharp inhale out of shock. Still, Miguel doesn't let go. He doesn't loosen his grip, not even just a little bit.

“Miguel —” you start in between tears.

“Shh, I'm here. I'm here. I'm here,” he whispers, feeling your head just below his chin. “I got you. Forever and always.” He whispers, his eyes threatening to spill tears. “Shhh, niña amada mía. Todo estará bien, te lo prometo [… my beloved girl. Everything will be okay, I promise].” He continues, gently trying to comfort you.

“Pe-Peter,” you manage to whisper through tears.

“I know, preciosa [precious],” Miguel whispers back, hugging you closer somehow. “I know.”

Sniffling, you pull back enough to gaze up at Miguel, meeting his maroon eyes full of understanding and tenderness. “He's… Happy,” you whisper with droplets of tears hanging off your lashes. “That variant of Peter is living a wonderful life. I'm so — I'm so happy at least one version of him got what he always dreamed about.”

At your words, Miguel's eyes soften. That's why you're crying, out of happiness that this other Peter had the privilege to live the life your own Peter always wanted with you. Tenderly, Miguel cups your face in his large and warm hands, staring at you as if you’re the very multiverse. He feels relief deep inside him, too, to know you are not sad nor bitter by this fact, which means you don't wish to interfere in this universe in any way.

“Mi Dulzura [my sweetness],” he starts, his voice steady and low. “You're the least selfish person I know, you know that?” he asks, gliding the pads of his thumbs over your skin to dry your tears. He smiles softly at you before hugging you again, comforting you.

Snuggling closer to him, you rest your head on Miguel's chest, calming down in his arms. The steady rhythm of his heart under your ear soothes you, bringing a tranquility you haven't felt all day, one unlike any other. You sigh in content, inhaling Miguel's scent. He smells wonderful as always, so warm and welcoming, and you can’t get enough of it right now.

Miguel smells like home.

Somewhere in your mind, a small thought pops inside your head. It goes as quickly as it comes to you, but you acknowledge it; you haven't come across a scent that makes you feel like this since Peter’s.

“My variant and Peter's variant are married,” you start softly, wanting to tell Miguel everything. “They have children. A boy and a girl. Have I ever told you that Peter hoped for two kids? One night we spoke about it.”

“Yeah?” Miguel answers, still embracing you while you talk. After all, some time ago you told him talking helps and as your best friend, he’ll happily listen to you talk all night long.

“Mhm… He talked about us moving to another apartment, which I toured today. It’s bigger and has two more rooms. One night, Peter mentioned two kids and how they could each have one of the rooms. How I could have a home library there.”

Miguel smiles. “Sounds like Peter had a wonderful vision,” he answers, imagining what you're saying. It was a pretty dream, a noble one to aspire. He mindlessly rubs your back, imagining you as a mother while you tell him everything about the last apartment you toured today and how you felt when you were there.

“With that already in my head and then Harry’s words… The idea weighted heavily on me; how Peter will never be my husband, have kids, or grow old. When I went to that universe, though, and saw that Peter,” you say, smiling softly. “I felt incredibly happy to see that at least one version of my Peter has the privilege of living that life. My variant, too. In another universe, we get to do the things we dreamed about. And for me, that’s more than enough,” you whisper, feeling like an invisible chain that you’ve been carrying around all these years has finally been lifted.

“You, too, will get to live it, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers. “One of these days, I promise.”

You hum in his arms, comforted by Miguel’s words and touch. Minutes pass and your tears cease. It’s uncertain how long you remain like that, but neither of you care, even when a comfortable silence falls upon you.

It’s not until much later, when your head is clearer, that your brain finally registers the reality.

You’re in Miguel’s arms.

He’s touching — embracing — you.

After years of healing and being reluctant to physical touch, Miguel is hugging you.

“Miguel,” you start softly, your grip on his bicep faltering as you suddenly remember his boundaries. What if he's internally struggling and you've been inconsiderate all this time with your crying?

The mere idea of you testing Miguel’s boundaries, even if he’s doing it out of kindness, leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Not wanting to put any more pressure on him, you begin to pull away only for Miguel’s arms to tighten around you.

He shakes his head, his arms wrapping entirely around your body, pressing you against him. “Please,” Miguel whispers, pleading. “Don't let me go just yet.”

With a smile, you hug Miguel back with the same intensity, reminding him what it’s like to be held once again.

Feeling your arms around him, Miguel sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes shut tight. “I forgot…” he murmurs. “How wonderful it is to be held by someone — someone you cherish, care, and love.”

Your eyes open at Miguel’s words, your stomach feeling a bit fuzzy before you close them again.

Meanwhile, Miguel inhales your sweet scent and relishes your warmth. He can't think of anything better than this right now. This is perfect, this right here with you.

Every step he's taken in his healing journey has led him here. From letting his walls down to baring his very soul for your eyes only. Every tear and smile. Every moment spent in your lovely, soothing, and endearing presence. Every little moment of touching, and so much more. It's led him to this moment.

With a smile, Miguel hugs you tighter. He reminds himself to not squeeze too much, or he'll crush you, so he hugs you tight enough to make his feelings known and perhaps, to make up for all the time he's gone without receiving and reciprocating such a simple human gesture.

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes closed, knowing you'll treasure this moment forever.

“No, thank you,” Miguel replies in a whisper. “I would've never… Been here if it wasn't with you.”

You hum, slightly shifting your head on Miguel's shoulder. Gently, you run a hand down his back, feeling his warmth and back muscles flex under your touch, making Miguel's lashes flutter in silent comfort.

Your hand tracing his bare skin…

Miguel clears his throat, mentally shoving that totally random and odd thought away. Instead, he continues to hold you in his arms like his life depends on it.

Outside, the city life goes on. The moon is high above in the sky, accompanied by its lovely stars. Moonlight filters into the room from a window, partially bathing the two of you as time passes by.

“Are you tired?” Miguel asks a while later, softly.

“No,” you answer, still in his arms. “You?”

“Not even a little bit,” he replies in a murmur, but his stomach protests, making it known he’s hungry.

Hearing the growling from Miguel's stomach, you chuckle before your own copies his.

“It seems I'm not the only one that’s hungry,” Miguel states, unwillingly loosening his arms around you. He feels you pull away enough to look up at him, smiling softly. “You haven't eaten anything, have you?”

“No,” you confirm.

“I'll make you something to eat. Come on,” Miguel says.

Since hunger calls, you pull apart from each other and stand up, needing a moment to stretch after being in one position alone for too long.

Downstairs, Miguel has you sit down because it's his ‘treat’ to cook after the day you've had. You oblige, but not before putting on one of your favorite records since you’re in a great mood now. How could you not when the day is ending on a great note? And on top of that, Miguel makes one of your comfort dishes.

After a delicious dinner, you shower and dress into pajamas before heading back downstairs. You settle down on the living room’s floor to check the messages from your friends since you reached out to them while Miguel cooked. You apologized for worrying them, but most importantly, you thank them profusely for their love and care. With a smile, you put away your gizmo with thoughts of baking sweets for everyone soon as a way to thank them.

“You came downstairs just in time,” Miguel says behind you with damp hair from his own shower, entering the living room from the kitchen.

“I did?” you ask, looking up and finding Miguel already halfway to you, carrying two mugs with café de olla. Your smile grows wider at the sight as he reaches you. Carefully, you accept the mug. “Thank you, omg,” you state, inhaling the comforting scent. “God, I love you,” you add sweetly before taking a small sip, too preoccupied with the drink to notice Miguel’s flustered face.

He gazes at you, his mug in midair while his brain experiences a ‘504 Service Unavailable” error due to your last statement. It’s your little chuckle of happiness and satisfaction after a third sip that fixes said error. He clears his throat and finally places the mug on the coffee table, his face red.

“God, I love you…”

Miguel swallows, his stomach feeling fuzzy. “You like it?” he manages to ask.

“You already know I love it,” you reply, turning to give him a look that tells him he shouldn’t even ask anymore because you’ll love it each and every time.

Miguel smiles. If only you knew that he plans on continuing to make that question, even if ten years have gone by with the two of you doing this. With a soft sigh leaving his perfect lips, he silently prays for something; he prays he has the privilege of having you in his life for longer than that time. For the remainder of his life, to be precise.

“I can hear you thinking,” you murmur, holding the mug with both your hands.

“Just thinking,” Miguel answers, picking up his own mug and trying the coffee. “Despite everything that happened today,” he starts, keeping his thoughts to himself from just now. “Did you happen to like any apartments?”

“Oh… No,” you answer with a frown, turning to face him fully. “There were some pros everywhere, but also a lot of cons.”

With a laugh, Miguel turns to face you directly as well, crossing his legs to scoot closer to you. “I think it’s going to take some time, perhaps. You have lived in one place for so long. You’re used to the area and the style of the building.”

“I know. Or, do you think I’m being too picky?” you question, tilting your head slightly.

“You? Picky? Never,” Miguel answers with a teasing tone.

“Ah, I see,” you reply, slowly smiling at him as he chuckles.

“In all seriousness, you have the privilege to think about it. You don’t need to rush yourself into a lease, if your heart is not on it.” Miguel hums, gazing at you. “You already know, my home is your home. Besides… You’re already, basically, well…” He clears his throat. “We’re basically full on roommates at this point. And, you insist on contributing financially while still paying rent over there. I was actually thinking, if you want…”

You raise an eyebrow at Miguel’s words, getting an idea of where he’s going.

“Well, I was thinking… If maybe, you would consider — to save your money — moving in one hundred percent,” Miguel finally says, coming out with it. “Only if you wish to, of course. I’m only making the suggestion, so it’s something you can think about.”

“Oh…” you simply say, thinking about it. Silently, you wonder if it’d be okay; to not have a place at your own universe, or if it’d bring you problems in the future.

“Take your time. Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to do it. I understand if you still wish to have a place at your universe. I’m only worried about you spending twice when I have the means to handle everything financially. I don’t wish for you to be spending your money in both places,” Miguel says. “And, if you ever need money, you can count on me. Please know that. Although, I have a feeling you’d be stubborn about accepting my support.” Miguel takes a sip and smirks softly when he sees you raise an eyebrow, trying to deny your stubbornness. “Yes, you would. I know you.”

You sigh, playfully rolling your eyes before thinking about his offer again. “Fair enough. I will think about it, okay? Thank you for… Making that offer.”

“It’s an invitation,” Miguel clarifies, making it known that there wouldn’t be any expectations legally wise, or of any other kind. “Think about it, yes? You let me know what you decide. Either way, I’ll be here with you.”

With a smile, you nod, remembering his words from earlier when he first held you. You recall his emotion when he told you he’s here for you; that he got you, forever and always. Still smiling, you take a drink from your mug. “Hey, how about we work on a puzzle?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Miguel replies with a grin, placing his mug on the coffee table before pulling the piece of furniture closer to the two of you. “Which one should we do?”

An hour later of working on a puzzle, you both groan softly and fix your postures, exhausted from slumping over the coffee table.

“I think we need a little break,” you say with a laugh, leaning back against the couch.

“I second that,” Miguel answers, leaning back as well. He turns to look at you and smiles at the sight of you simply sitting there in your pajamas, looking incredibly endearing.

With a soft hum, you briefly think about Harry. You’ve tried not to think about him or the argument after Miguel hugged you, so you haven’t truly processed the situation. You’re uncertain if he will try to contact you again and if you will even deem it worth it to listen to him.

You push the thought away. Right now, you don’t want to think about that. You put all of that aside and cherish the now, or more specifically, you cherish the company from your best friend. Yes, your best friend, who you’ve known for years now, not three mere seconds like Harry said.

With a soft sigh, Miguel rests his head on the cushions. He smiles softly and gazes at you again, noting that look you always get when you begin to get sleepy. “Sleepy?” he asks, already knowing the answer. No.

“Hm? Oh, no,” you answer with a small grin, resting your head as well.

“I figured,” Miguel replies turning to look at the ceiling, knowing it’s actually a matter of time before you doze off. He wouldn’t be surprised, especially after the day you’ve had.

“May we stay here a little while?” you ask softly, not wanting to leave his presence despite the day catching up to you little by little.

“We can stay all night, if you want. Just like this,” Miguel murmurs a minute or two before he feels your head rest on his bicep. He glances down, finding you already asleep. Carefully, Miguel lifts his arm to let you slip into his side before respectfully wrapping it around you. He remains awake for a while, long enough that he hears the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the windows. “Duerme, niña amada mía [sleep, my beloved girl],” he whispers softly.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: Hiii, my lovely pookies!! THEY HUGGED!! 🗣 I repeat, THEY HUGGED! 🗣🗣

I've been waiting for this day for forever, like everyone else! I didn't plan on taking so long to update, but it's kind of cool how the opportunity to post it today was given, considering today is two years since this story started.🥹

I don't want to ramble too much, but given it's two years of this fic and me joining the fandom here on Tumblr, I just want to say thank you for still reading! 🥹💖

It boggles my mind how I'm actually still writing this fic that two years ago, I was unsure about sharing. On top of that, the original plan was for there to only be four-ish chapters. Now, there are twenty more chapters than originally planned, and we're officially past the 400k word mark (I told you guys to take my keyboard away so many times 🤣).

I almost forgot, too, that the first chapter was untitled because I suck at coming up with titles for my works (you'd think over ten years of writing would help, but no). It was until I heard the song "Nonviolent Communication" from the ATSV album for the first time that I fell in love with the idea of that as a title for this work. It felt right and captured Miguel so beautifully, so the fic finally got its title before the second chapter was posted. I wonder if anyone currently reading was here for that lol.

Either way, this fic truly grew into something more than I planned, and I'm deeply proud of it. It's not perfect by any means, but if it has brought even a little bit of happiness and comfort to you like it has for me, that's more than enough for me!

I know my updates have been nonexistent this year and I'm truly sorry about that. To put it simply, I lost inspiration to write due to everything going on around the world. I suddenly felt a spark earlier this month and finally started to write again little by little each day until I found my groove once more. With that said, I seriously look forward to updating again and completing Nonviolent Communication.

I can't say for sure how many updates there are left because once I'm writing, I get into it and things change (the way an author's story changes over years of writing and editing a book before it's finally published, hehe; not to say this story will take another whole year to be completed, but simply that the number of chapters may increase), but please know that I intend on completing this story, which has been so kind and healing to me in ways you can't imagine. 🥹

Alright, that's enough of my yapping. Thank you so much for reading, pookies! I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and that I didn't dissapoint. And finally, happy two years of Nonviolent Communication! 💕

Alondra❤️

p.s. THEY HUGGED! Miguel didn't want to let go? 😭 The sweet nicknames? Their stomachs feeling fuzzy? Someone hold me, please! Also, Harry... 😐Should we forgive him?

Taglist: (post about this will be made soon, keep an eye out for it!)

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

@natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

@vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9

@tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies

@coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme

@lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection

@kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

@aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis

@f1-hoff @llumetrii

@nina-from-317 @kavimoo @heubstr

I missed NC Miguel so bad!🥹🥹

[cupcakeinat0r]

“Spider-Man: Beyond The Spiderverse won’t be released until another 2-3 years, reports say.”

No, that’s alright, take your time.

[spid3rslvt]

Miguel, who purrs quietly as you pepper soft kisses all over his face. So quiet, it can barely be heard. He doesn’t like to admit how his heart skips a bit with every kiss laid on his skin, or how warm his ears get with how you run your fingers through his hair. And he’s oblivious to how obvious it is to you, especially when he lays his head on your chest, your legs tangled together.

[idfciluvsmut]

Soft Fic, Aquarium Miguel🪼🪸🫧

Tags: Miguel × Reader, public setting, one shot, no smut. Sorry guys, terrible awful flirting, I'm the target audience, That's it. That's the plot. Okay, maybe I change my mind on no smut. Fuck. I suck at this.

AN: I have 0 idea how to make this all fancy and cute🥀🥀

Enjoy 💗💗

🐠. Gosh, he was so excited. His favorite documentaries were always on marine wild life, he couldn't wait to just talk on and on about everything he knew to impress you

His favorite, has got to be the Ballon fish, he watch an hour documentary once about their life. And it absolutely made him adore them.

"Y/N! Y/N! there, behind the rainbow fairy fish, do you see him?" He whispers excitedly. Squeezing your left with both of his hands, trying to hide his excitement and feeling definitely Giddy.

"Which one? I don't know their names, "

"The red head with a yellow body, amor," he giggled, too happy to really care.

"Where... Oh! That one, there. Is that it?"

"That's how you look holding your breath," he whispers, squeezing.you waist and snickering. With a bit of red on your cheeks, you speak up after a gulp. "..Maybe the gift shop will have something on them, " you smiled. You two looked at a few more exhibits before he dragged you to the corals and sponges, where it explained how every part of this ecosystem depends on one another, life cycles, and the plastic crysis.

After maybe two hours, with sore feet, and having heard a library of marine creature facts. Who wouldn't like some sex?...Well you do. What other way to get to it than with geeky pick up lines.

You wrapped your arms around his and chuckled.

"Miggy...We've done alot of walking, If your feeling down..I could feel you up."

"_..What? Amor de que locura hablas!" He chuckled, his cheek tinted with a beautiful rosy color on his tan skin.

"Just saying, your zipper look nice, maybe I should give it a durability test" you purred. Turning the corner to a library and seeing the bathroom. You walk without questioning.

"Yeah? Then you must be tired from looking so good, querida. How about i calm you down." He grinned, and with that, into the bathroom. Against the wall with hickeys, bites, and a lot of grinding... Maybe some breeding mentioned..

Might be my longest fic..SORRY ABOUT THE SMUT. I LOVE THIS MAN.

[mango-bango-bby]

yandere! platonic miguel w a reader who isn't treated too well by their parents in their dimension and tries to be at HQ a lot to escape please?

Ty for ur time!

♡ Escape ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, dad!Miguel, teen/tween!reader, mentions of abuse and neglect, isolation, basically kidnapping

Summary: Your family is mistreating you and Miguel notices (Platonic!Yan!Miguel O’Hara x GN!teen/tween!reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡ You loved being a spider-person. Although it wasn’t the powers, or the love from the public for your super-hero persona, or even really saving people that you loved about it. You liked being able to hide. You liked swinging your way up to the top of a building and staying there for hours, away from home until you absolutely had to home.

♡ So when you were introduced to the spider-society, of heroes just like you, of course you wanted to be there. You stayed there for hours, even late in the night. Even doing mundane things, just at HQ instead of home.

♡ Miguel of course noticed. Yes, you were an “annoying kid” as he told himself. But you also helped him, you were strong and helped him track down anomalies. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had grown fond of you. You were just a silly kid, he didn’t outwardly say it but he felt like he was responsible for you. Perhaps it was the father in him, but he felt the need to care for you, keep you safe.

♡ He did notice that you spent a lot of time at HQ, but more specifically in his office. You would just say hello to him and sit on the floor. He was a bit annoyed at first but you weren’t interrupting so it didn’t bother him to much. He did notice that you would just… sit there. You wouldn’t do anything spider-man related, you just exsisted. You would eat in there, watch things on your phone, do your homework, watch him do stuff on the monitors. You did everything in his office, maybe because you felt safe with him.

♡ Miguel noticed, but foolishly didn’t think much of it. He actually liked you, so it didn’t bother him too much. Maybe it was the father in him, or maybe that you clearly were trying to help him. But he felt protective over you, you were just a kid after all.

♡ What he definitely noticed and was concerned about is when one day, you showed up wearing your hero mask. You kept your spider-person mask on. But not in battle, just hanging out in his office. You were just watching him do stuff on the monitors while wearing your hero mask. Of course, you were hiding a bruise but no one knew.

♡ Although you eventually couldn’t take it anymore, all of your emotions erupting out at once. So you went to the only person you trusted, the only person who made you feel safe. Which was Miguel. You walked into HQ crying, keeping you mask on to try and conceal your tears. And you just hugged him and he rocked you side to side as if you were a baby.

♡ After you tell him, he knows exactly what he has to do. How could he ever let you go back to a family like that!? So you stay with him for that night. But he convinces you to stay with him longer, your family isn’t safe for you to be around. Perhaps he may need to pay a visit to your parents, they were going to be your canon event anyways so he might speed that up.

♡ You’re only a child. Nothing is exactly safe for you in your universe. Not your family, and especially not being a hero! So he begins to isolate you, convincing you to stay home. But it’s better than your parents so you gladly accept being isolated and kept away from the rest of the world. But at least you’re getting loved, being cared for and doted on by your real papa.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: You all are loving platonic yandere lately because it’s like all that’s in my inbox 😭😭 Not that I’m real complaining though 🫶 I’ve been working on what Halloween requests I have lately 💗)

Masterlist ➸ ♡