#gabriel o'hara fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reverieblondie · 7 months

Text

Meeting

Pairing: Gabriel O'Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Mutual pining, Lots of teasing, Miguel is a cock block, Inappropriate use of a work table, Lab sex, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Hair Pulling, Fingering.

Summary: It all started with a boring Spider Society meeting...then you two just couldn't stop seeing each other.

A/N: So I usually only write about Miguel but I was inspired to make the when I saw h4mmiee's Gabriel doodles, Please check them out they are great:

Here

Anyways, I will hopefully have two more Miguel x reader fics up by Friday, so please look for those. I hope you enjoy this in the mean time, it was supposed to be shorter but I got carried away, whoops.

Word Count: 6,552

Another dull meeting at the spider society, Miguel O’Hara the boss man himself stands on the stage giving us our usual depriving. Don’t go on missions alone, report anomalies in your dimension, turn in all paperwork promptly, keep an eye on new recruits, blah blah blah…

This all feels so redundant now, we have these meetings every six weeks on the dot. All the spiders are here getting our lecture from Miguel, as he stands on his stage. You were standing in the front row so you got an unobstructed view of the leader. Usually, you get lucky and get to stand in the back, losing yourself in a daydream to pass the time, with the others who are also not particularly fond of the meeting's usual dull tones. But today you don't have such luck, being in the front means you have to look interested or you could earn a scolding from Miguel. No thanks.

As you look at Miguel you see the select few who got to stand up on the stage with him. His closest allies get the pleasure of standing on the rise and looking out to the crowd; those with this honor are Jess Drew, Peter B Parker, and Ben Reilly. unsure exactly why those three get to be there but they seem to always be the ones Miguel tells the most things to. Miguel's AI LYLA also makes a cameo, though a small one with her glowing at Miguel's shoulder. But someone is missing you notice.

Then there he is emerging from the doors at a quickened pace trying to get to his usual spot on the stage. Gabriel O'Hara, the Spider societies lead technician, is the one who helps develop the tech here and works to keep everything functioning. You didn't know him personally, in fact, the only time you ever have had a chance to see the infamous Gabriel O’Hara was at these meetings. Everyone knew that Gabriel and Miguel were brothers, the resemblance was uncanny from what you could see.

It was a little-known fact that Gabriel was always working in the back labs somewhere so not a lot of people had stories of him. Those who do, always positively speak of him. Apparently, the brothers were like opposites. Interesting…

Gabriel spills onto the stage beside Ben trying to brush off the fact that he is definitely late and will properly get a lecture on punctuality from Miguel after this. Your mind wonders, thinking about Gabriel and his role in HQ, and why he was late. Why did he even come to these? If you were him you would find an excuse to skip these meetings using the whole I'm not a Spider-person as an excuse.

Wrapped in thought you don't realize that your eyes are glued on him, watching as he gets in his usual place, looking out to the crowd. You haven't even noted that you are staring, but he has. Gabriel slides his eyes towards you, then he flashes you a grin. The sudden smile seems to wake you up from your thoughts. You quickly avert your eyes, A bit embarrassed being caught staring and thrown by the smile.

Wait, did he just smile at me? No right? I mean we don’t even know each other?

You look back up and his eyes have returned to Miguel giving his speech. A tinge of disappointment rushes through you. But almost as if he can hear your thoughts he looks back at you and smiles again adding a slight wave.

Looking to your left looking then to your right you try to figure out who he is waving at. Looking back at him he gives a slight chuckle before mouthing the word “hi” to you.

Okay yep, he has noticed you, I mean it would be rude not to respond right?

Smiling, you give him a “hey” in return. He eyes you for a moment before mouthing “How are you?”. This makes you giddy, is he really doing this now? “Good” you mouth in return. This was definitely a turn of events. And here you thought you were going to have to deal with another grueling meeting with nothing to distract you, but here he is.

You mouth back to him “You were late” wanting to tease him for his unprofessionalism that you definitely didn’t care about. His eyes light up at your words “I know, work-related” he responds with a smile and a slight roll of his eyes. Adorable just adorable; you nod, well he's definitely keeping you interested. “Did I miss anything?” he tilts his head giving you a knowing smile, he knows he didn't miss anything, it's always the same thing at these meetings. You shake your head no “Same as usual”.

Gabriel is amused by this and starts to mouth some more words but quicker this time. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare trying to catch what he is saying but he's moving his mouth too fast. He finally stops and smiles at you pleased with himself. All you can do is look at him and shake your head not catching what he is trying to say. This seemed to only encourage him to continue to mouth words at you quickly then stopping to see your reaction.

You smile and shake your head again and mouth “I can't make out what you are saying.”. Gabriel's eyes widen slightly and his lips creep into a sly grin “I know”. Oh, he's enjoying this, now playing this little game with you. However you can't deny you're enjoying playing back.

It's then that your spider senses shake you slightly, looking over you realize that Miguel is no longer talking. Jess is talking about teams and mentoring positions available. Not listening because all your attention has gone to the fact that Miguel's eyes are glued to you with a confused look on his face. Quickly you stop smiling and avert your eyes from him. Miguel's glare, then shifts to Gabriel, leaning in, Miguel whispers something to Gabriel and then goes back to listening to Jess.

Shifting your eyes back over at Gabriel, his eyes move back to you, he mouths the word “busted”, grinning widely. This earns a chuckle from you, he was busted but he didn't seem to care all that much.

You and Gabriel continue to steal looks from one another for the rest of the meeting. When the grueling meeting comes to a close and people start to flood out of the room you give Gabriel a small wave goodbye and head out the door.

It seems like everyone is eager to get on with their day moving out of the meeting room in haste. Once you are finally out you head to where your duties are, you were on paperwork duty for the week and you absolutely were dreading it. Not wanting to think about the grueling task ahead, You think back on Gabriel and giggle to yourself. He seemed like a playful person completely different from his older brother.

Then your spider senses start to tingle and you quickly look to your right. There's Gabriel with his hand extended out to touch your shoulder but your senses gave him away. Seeming surprised by your sudden turning he smiles at you and then puts a serious look on his face furrowing his eyebrows, “Don’t you know you're not supposed to goof off during meetings? You could miss something important.” He says in a mocking tone.

Laughing at his impression of seriousness, you quip back “Oh? is that what you think?” You put your hands on your hips and cock one to the side. His Smile spreads wide at you, looking at you up and down for a quick moment.

“It's what my brother told me I should think'' he holds his hand out to you “I’m Gabriel O’Hara, and you are?” you shake his hand introducing yourself, and swapping pleasantries while you do.

His hands are bigger than yours and have calluses from him working hard on different machines all the time. Now that you're closer to him you can see the differences between him and Miguel, like Gabriel's green eyes and slight freckles that dust his cheeks. His hair was exactly like Miguel’s but he kept it loose rather than brushed back. Also with him up close to you now you could get a better look at the goggles attached to his head and a striped scarf that hung down from his neck. He was good-looking, and he knew it. The hint was the confidence that flowed out of him.

“So where are you heading off to now? A dangerous mission? Going to fight crime and save the day somewhere?” A smile is painted on his face as he asks you. “Oh yeah I have a very dangerous villain I have to fight, it's called paperwork and if I don’t turn it in on time the whole universe could shatter” Everyone in the society thought that the paperwork we had to do was ridiculous, this universe was so futuristic and we still had to fill paperwork? The hell?

Gabriel tsks “That danm paperwork, you think we could find a better way to log reports? Well if you find yourself with some downtime you should come by the lower floor tech lab, that's usually where I'm held up at.”

You nod “I might just do that,” you say walking backwards to your work area keeping your eyes on Gabriel before turning around to get your work started.

Gabriel watches you walk away, your hips swaying in a way that he can't help but smile at, he is appreciating the must wear your spider suit rule right now as he watches your form, his eyes glued to the tightness of your suit and the way it leaves little to the imagination.

“Oh I am in trouble,” he whispered to himself with a shake of his head, before walking down to his lab.

-----

Turns out that getting downtime while working at the Spider Society is a lot harder than you originally thought. It had been a couple of days and you finally had nothing on your plate to take care of so you slowly made your way to the tech lab on the lower level to hopefully have an impromptu meeting with Gabriel. During your time working you couldn't help your thoughts running back to your first meeting with the younger O’Hara. So it was only natural you were eager to get to see him again.

Never having been to this part of HQ before you note that it was pretty deserted, the only things you could see were all the different machines, some whirling and operating while others were broken down into parts. This place seemed like a maze with you having to take turns constantly and having to go a different way when you would hit a dead end. This is where he works? No wonder he was late to the meeting. He probably got lost down here.

Continuing to walk, you start to hear what sounds like a voice and it sounds irritated. As you get closer and closer you can hear it more clearly and the words that are being slipped.

“Come on you know you wanna…”

“That's it keep humming for me, very good…”

“Mierda…” (shit)

The words you were hearing caused you to blush, is that Gabriel? Who is he talking to? When you round the corner you see Gabriel working on a machine, he's completely focused on his work. The whole body is crouched down in the machine, small grunts and the sound of metal scratching can be heard as he works tentatively. The machine would seem to start working when Gabriel was working on it but quickly would shut off as he started to move out from under it.

Getting closer and leaning against a machine a smirk on your face as you watch Gabriel work. From this angle, you can see his muscular back, oh? Hiding some lean muscle huh? Being so close to him you can observe his muscles tense as he continues to get more irritated, the smirk never leaving your face.

“Come on your dirty thing, work for me!”

The machine starts to whirl and work as he continues his tinkering.

“That's a girl, work for Papi”

“So does talking to the machines help?” you say startling him

“ah, ¿qué carajos?” (What the fuck!?) Gabriel jumps at your voice and hits his head on the machine, he looks at you with goggles on his eyes as he rubs his head. standing there you can't help your giggle at his surprise. He lights up in your presence, quickly he moves his goggles to the top of his head to reveal his green eyes.

“Hey! You finally got some downtime!” He quickly stands to his full height with a warm smile looking down at you.

“Yeah I did, I am a pretty busy woman so it took me some time to get all my stuff done.” you smile at him he seems excited to see you again, which causes your chest to warm up a bit.

“Do you often talk like that to your machines?” you tease him.

“Talk dirty? Yeah sometimes if they are being difficult” He says a bit embarrassed but quickly hides it with a smirk.

“So you talk dirty often then?” you ask with a smile spreading to your lips, wanting to tease him more. But this only gets him to step closer to you and lean down to you slightly, his eyes roaming all over you, watching you as if you just told him a dirty secret about yourself.

He smirks and looks deep into your eyes, making your heart race and your lower stomach tighten “Why? Are you enjoying it?”

Oh, he's teasing you back, “Probably not as much as the machine is.”

Gabriel looks over to the machine and smiles to himself before turning back to you. “Oh yeah, they can't resist my charm or these hands” he holds his large hands up to you in a playful gesture that has you blushing.

Gabriel goes back to working on the machine stealing glances your way. Walking around you look at the different machines running your finger along some of them. “So how come you only come out during meetings?” darting your eyes to look at his tall figure up and down, when you do you catch his emerald eyes following your form as you walk.

Moving away from his work, eyes still glued to you he shrugs. “Oh, I don't know, probably because Miguel doesn't like me getting distracted and leaving my work.”

Coming to a stop you look at what appears to be his work table, filled with tools and parts that you couldn't begin to understand. Pushing yourself up you sit yourself on the edge, slightly swaying your feet. Eyes glued to Gabriel as he begins to walk closer to you. That sly smirk on his face filled with mischief that you just couldn't resist.

“Yeah? What gets you so distracted from your work?”

Gabriel chuckles and looks to his feet for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Well, I have a proclivity for flirting with pretty girls”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it's very bad, I just can't resist the pull they have on me.”

“I couldn't even imagine how hard that is for you.”

Gabriel stops right in front of you and leans both arms down to the edge of the table, trapping you between them. Being so close to his face you are trapped looking into his eyes, his tantalizing scent takes over your senses. Flirty smirk still glued to his face he slowly leans into you dragging his hands slowly back.

“Sometimes it's downright painful.”

His closeness causes your face to flush and your heartbeat to race. Leaning in slightly.

Gabriel looks from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes again. A slight hum left his lips. Leaning in you know you hardly know him but the tension between you two has been electric. This has to be what he's wanting right? Then he quickly pulls back holding a tool in his hand.

“Pardon me, I just needed to grab this from behind you real quick.”

That cocky tease just totally played you!

Eyes wide you Quickly readjust yourself trying to make it look like you weren't just leaning in for a kiss from him. Gabriel just eyes you and laughs to himself. Great he's an incredibly cute flirt who knows how to push your buttons, you're starting to understand why Miguel keeps him busy in the lab. It's not that he's distracted by us, we would be distracted by him.

-----

After your first meeting with Gabriel going to his lab to flirt and hang out with him became a common occurrence. Now is flirting on the job acceptable? Not really you knew getting caught would mean some serious Miguel wrath but you justify to yourself that Gabri might just be worth it.

The more you spent around him the more and more you wanted him, but you were not going to be the one to break first. The two of you seemed to be in an unspoken game, the game? See who can tease the other until they confess their feelings, or break the tension first. He was a tease and proved to be good at the game, but you will be damned to be the one to break first. The tension between you building and building till someone was going to burst. With any luck it would be him, you just need to be patient and play the game to the best of your ability.

You two were not the only ones to note the sparks between you. People had started noticing the flirting and the stolen glances. Though to save your skin you had to play it off as just harmless fun, though on the inside you were burning with want.

“You know Miguel won’t like that you're getting so close to his brother,” Jess says as she picks the tomatoes from her burger

“I say keep going, maybe one day you will be his sister-in-law and he will have to see you at family BBQs” Peter chuckles as he steals Jess’s unwanted tomatoes to stack on his burger.

“Okay, wow, we are not talking about marriage. We are just flirting a little here and there is no harm, no foul.” taking a bite out of the blue and red burger, it's funny you thought that the food coloring would make it taste strange but the 2099 burger was actually decent.

“All I am saying is be careful flirting so close to trouble, speaking of…”

Jess trails off as she nudges her head behind you. Turning you see Gabriel approaching, quickly turning you check your teeth to make sure you don't have anything caught. This action causes Jess to roll her eyes and Peter to give you a thumbs up. Turning back around you kick the chair out next to you for Gabriel to sit.

“Lunch out of the Lab? What's the occasion?”

Gabriel sits down with a giddy smile “They are serving Birria! So I had to come get some.” Gabriel starts to eat the stew-like soup with glee. You watch Him enjoying his lunch, in a moment of relaxation, you rest your palm in your hand as you just observe him eating. Gabriel turns to you a mouth stuffed with birria, you quickly adjust your stare from him back to your burger. Seeing that you are watching he quickly swallows his food and hits his chest from eating too fast.

“What did you get?” he looks over to your plate and sees that you are eating the burger with his brother's face, he scrunches his nose at you. When he does you note how this makes him look like his brother but you wouldn't mention that.

“What's with the face? It's pretty good” You take a bite and chew and Gabriel's face contorts with disgust.

“Yeah no I’m not going to eat something that looks like my brother”

“Your loss”

“Here, put that monstrosity down and try some real food” Gabriel takes the spoon away from his lips and fills it with the hot liquid. Grabbing your chin gently with his warm fingers, he turns you to face him, that flirty smirk on his face and he watches you with hooded eyes.

“Ah~” He teases as he brings the soup to your parted lips. Watching as you take the soup hypnotized by his emerald eyes. Taking the spoon in your mouth tasting the perfectly seasoned liquid, you can't help but blush at the fact you are using the spoon he previously had his mouth on. An indirect kiss is all that floods your brain as Gabriel just watches you, fingers slightly rubbing your soft skin.

“It's good huh?” His voice purrs staring at your lips

The sound of a clearing throat breaks the tension as you look at Jess, she shakes her head and Peter just smiles as he takes in the moment you two just shared. Feeling your face heat up you quickly avert your gaze back to your unfinished lunch, your sudden bashfulness doesn't seem to faze Gabriel as he swings his arm around your chair and leans closer to you.

“I could give you more if you want,” his voice whispers to your flushed ear, sending your brain swirling.

It was a loaded question, he knew it, you knew it, but would you crack?

Then just as if it could sense the tension Gabriel's watch starts to ring and Layla makes her appearance.

“Hey Gabri, Miguel says he needs to see you.”

“Can it wait till I’m done with lunch?”

“He insists it's urgent”

With that Gabriel sighs and quickly eats his soup, taking the bowl to swallow down the contents. Turning to you he winks “Duty calls, see ya bichita.”

Quickly darting towards Miguel's office his scarf and large jacket look like a flowing cape as he runs off. Staring, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him go, but then you feel a set of eyes piercing you, you turn to see an unimpressed-looking Jess and a giggling Peter.

“What?”

“Girl, you're in trouble” Shaking her head she leaves you at the table and Peter follows behind her laughing.

-----

The next day you hadn’t seen or heard from Gabriel so it was the perfect excuse to go see him. Walking into his lab you see Gabriel. He seems sweaty like he's been doing strenuous work. The subtle sheen of sweat resting on his face makes your mouth water. Moving around the lab he's picking up what seems to be heavy machinery, this is what must have made him all sweaty not that you're complaining.

Gabriel tries to lift what seems to be a very large, very heavy piece of equipment, he tries to lift it, even tries pushing but it’s not bugging. Sauntering over you look at his struggle, it strangely excites you watching him, face contorting in frustration, skin glowing from sweat, breath heavy with exhaustion. Wonder if he looks like that during…Taking a deep breath you calm yourself before you approach.

“Hey Gabri, looks like you're struggling a bit. Let me help you”

Bending over you go to grab the equipment Gabriel tries to stop you. “Wait it's too-”

Before he can get the last word out you have lifted the equipment over your head holding it with ease.

“Huh, sometimes I forget you have super strength…” he marvels as you move with the machine with ease.

“What? I don't have super strength? I'm just that jacked.” You say in sarcasm before You flex your arm to show off your muscles.

Gabriel laughs, “Must be nice to be able to lift whatever you want.”

Opening your mouth you go to rebuttal his comment but as you're placing the equipment down you see how Gabriel's face seems to flush from watching you work, he quickly turns to hide his flushed features. This is an interesting development, he's made you nervous about two times now. Maybe it's time we make him nervous…

Walking up behind Gabriel you quickly scoop the taller man from his feet and hold him like a bride, a wide grin painted on your lips as you take in his slight squeal and shocked expression.

“Yeah, it sometimes has its perks like getting to surprise people” You boost with him in your arms. If you didn't have powers you could never lift him. Not always loving being a spider-woman. It's moments like this that make everything worth it.

“Aw don't worry, I won't drop you” You tease him as he tries to change his expression to fit that of someone who is unfazed, failing miserably he decides to lean into the role of a saved civilian.

“Oh Spider-woman your my hero” he bats his lashes at you

“All in a day's work Sir, no big deal”

“Oh, well I just have to repay you somehow, you know for lifting that heavy machine and lifting me to carry me” You gently put him back on his feet, his tall stature immediately towering over you as you do.

Craning your head up to meet his eyes you feel his hand brush against your jaw, thumb rubbing your cheek. “How about a kiss Spider-Woman?” Leaning down he is inches from your lips, noses almost touching, those green eyes studying your face. Is this him breaking? Is he going to pull back? Is this real?

“Can I kiss you Y/N?”

It's real, you can feel your heart thrumming like crazy. This feeling is so intense.

Your lips part and you start to rise to your tiptoes. Gabriel's other hand finds your soft neck as he leans down. Hands searching for anything to grab, they find a place gripping onto his striped scarf. Finally one of you broke and it’s led to this perfect moment.

“Gabri, I think we need to relook at the go-home machine, I think if we can program it to work faster we could, oh…” Miguel stops walking and tapping away at his watch when he sees you and Gabriel in such proximity. Face contorting from surprise to confusion, to annoyance.

Damnit…

Gabriel and you quickly let go of each other and face Miguel. Miguel walks closer to you two, his face in that unhappy glare.

“What are you two doing?” he asks placing his hands on hips narrow waist

“I-I-Uh-” you nervously stumble over your words trying to find an excuse.

“She was helping me out, I needed someone with strength to lift some heavy equipment” pointing to the large machine you have effortlessly moved.

“Well looks moved, you should head back to your dimension if you're done with your duties today,” Miguel says in a serious tone.

With a quick nod, you slip past Miguel and look back at Gabriel. Looking back at him he looks like he is bracing for a lecture from Miguel. Feeling guilty because you know those are never fun. Miguel starts tapping his watch, something he does before lectures, you assume to think of what he will say before he says it. Gabriel's eyes land on you, he looks serious preparing for his talking to, then just like a flip of a switch, he gives a mischievous smirk with a wink.

And with that, you knew you were going to break first.

-----

Miguel made sure to keep everyone extremely busy after he saw you and Gabriel together, maybe you were reading too much into it but it seemed to be the only correlation. It had been four days since you saw Gabriel and you were getting antsy. The almost kiss played on a loop over and over in your mind. The sudden distance between you two only made your thoughts of him run rampant. The whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing was right. Not seeing Gabriel for four days made you realize how much you enjoyed being near him and how desperate you were to kiss him finally. You two had teased each other and flirted enough, it was now time to do something about it.

As you wind and twist your way through the maze you make your way closer to Gabriel's lab, you didn't know what you would say or do once you saw him you just knew you had an uncontrollable urge, a desire to be near him and you couldn't wait anymore.

Finally getting through the maze of a lab you reach your goal, Gabriel.

Gabriel sees you enter the lab, giving you a sweet smile and putting down the small apparatus he was tinkering with.

“Well if it isn’t Spider-Woman, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Gabriel strides over to you still insistent on teasing you like always. Danm, He gets cuter every damn time you see him. That cocky strut is like he knows why you're here like he knows how bad you have it for him. Hating to lose the game but you're going to burst if you don't, just swallow your pride, tell him…

“My w-watch, it's acting weird.” you quickly stumble out. Okay, what the fuck? That's not the plan? What the hell is the matter with you?

Looking at you with concern Gabriel grabs your hand lifting your arm to examine the watch.

“Well, that's not good bichita. Step into my office, let's see if I can't help you out.”

Guiding you through the lab he takes you to his work table. Swiftly he grabs your hips and lifts you on the table. A small Squeak leaves you for a moment, you're here to confess and he's still making you nervous, danm…

He takes his time examining your watch. Nesting himself between your legs making your breath get shaky. He then raises his eyebrows in concern and shock.

“Oh wow this isn’t good, it's really messed up…”

“What really?” You look down in surprise.

Gabriel taps his index finger on your nose making you look back up to him. “No, it’s perfectly fine, now why are you really here?”

Taking your arm back you adjust your watch on your wrist looking at him irritatedly. “Don’t scare me like that…”

“Well don’t lie to me, what’s up? You don’t need a reason to come see me, you should know that?”

Starting to chew on your bottom lip you look at him and nod. “I know, I just…the thing is…I hate losing.”

Lifting an eyebrow confused he pry for you to elaborate. “Okay? What did you lose?”

Holding your head down you sigh and point between the two of you. “This I lose the game, which sucks because I almost won if it wasn’t for-”

Before you can finish your sentence Gabriel's hands gently grab your face and lifts it to meet his emerald eyes, then his soft lips are meeting yours. The kiss was tender and passionate, his large hands carefully gliding down from your face. The slow movement of his fingers leaves a heated trail on your skin. Finally, his hands met yours, intertwined his fingers with yours holding your hands tightly, as if he didnt you would disappear. With a swift gradation of intensity, the kiss from his instant lips has yours parting making your body quake as you begin to feel the slight teasing of his tongue to yours.

Pulling back he's the first to relinquish the kiss looking into your kissed-hazed eyes. “I lose…this stupid little game between us, I lose, you win.”

Grabbing onto his scarf you bring him closer so you're whispering into his lips. “You're not going to be a sore loser right?”

He laughs slightly “I will gladly lose to you whenever you want”

With that you pull him into a passionate kiss, quickly heating to a blazing fever that has you both instantly stripping each other trying to cool the raging fire between you.

Before you know it you're bent over his work table, bare for his taking. Warm lips kiss up your spine while his index finger explores your soft folds, finding you already desperately wet.

“Wow, I don’t even need to prep you, so fuckin’ wet for me,” Gabriel says, his finger still rubbing through you teasing at the opening of your slit.

Moaning and leaning into his finger you're desperate for him but he's insistent on still teasing you. Slowly he begins to plunge his finger into your walls and the sweet stretch has you rocking back and forth only to get worse once he slips a second in curling into you.

“Amas mis manos, ¿verdad?” (You love my hands don't you?)

Nodding you are willing to agree with anything he says as long as it means more. A chuckle leaves his lips and he takes his other hand and starts rubbing tight circles on your clit, slightly pinching the bud to make your hips jump forward. You can't help the embarrassing moans that escaped your lips but Gabriel just relishes in them. “That's it, gemido por papi.” (Moan for Papi)

You're approaching your orgasm quickly just from riding his skillful hands. Uncontrollably you're squirming underneath him, thighs closing and tightening around his arm. Gabriel nudges your feet further apart with his foot spreading you open and plunging deeper till you're practically panting as he continues curling into you and abusing your swollen clit. “No, no, stay spread for me, can't make you cum with you getting shy like that” he purrs into your ear.

Your moans are reverberating through the lab, it is music to his ears getting to hear you approach your high. “God, bichita I've been wanting to do this to you for weeks, I didn't imagine you would be so loud though. Aw, don't hold it in now, I want to hear you scream my name.”

The new pace as you lean further on the table as you clench down on his fingers screaming out his name as your orgasm flows over you, your juices coating his digits, some of it falling onto his floor. Gabriel finally pulls his fingers from you looking at your quivering pussy as you shake from your orgasm, tilting his head he watches as your juices drip to the floor, he lazily sucks the slick from his fingers releasing them with a pop.

“Danm, you're making a mess on my floor.” Before you can turn you feel a hand caressing your ass and his breath fanning your ear “Let's make a bigger mess shall we?”

You feel his hand grab onto your hip and rub small circles, then you feel him pushing against you, foot kicking yours to spread open again, he's going to have to break you of that habit. Then his cock is rubbing against your wet folds, and you're instantly ready to go again, breathing quickening in anticipation. Carefully his tip teases your entrance before slipping into you spreading you open with a moan escaping your lips. Starting slowly he kisses your shoulders as he slowly pistons his cock, loving to see your pussy gripping onto his cock. The soft pleading of your moans and mewling of his name is making him throb inside you, like a siren song to fuck into you harder.

Answering your sinful song he grabs a handful of your hair before his thrusting into you harder and faster.

“Harder, Ha-Harder!” you cry chasing his cock with your hips.

“Harder? Oh, dirty girl, you're already gripping me so tight and you want it harder? ” His hand presses down on your back stilling you as he fucks harder into your squealing cunt. Hiccuping and slurring you're getting drunk from the pace he's pushing into you. Sweat is forming on him as his chest starts to burn, taking his hand from your hair he lifts your leg to where your knee is on the table, pushing himself deeper where his tip is nudging that sweet spot that has you clamping around his cock.

Approaching your second orgasm he takes his hand and rubs those same tight circles on your clit. Finally, you're coming undone on his cock, squirting on him. Gabriel lets you ride out your high as long as he can before he's about to bust inside of you, finally when you're wiggling and whining in overstimulation he's pulling out and cumming his thick cum on your ass. Gasping from the sudden emptiness, your skin tingles as you feel the warm liquid run down your leg.

Gabriel is quick to leave a barrage of kisses on your back. He quickly grabs a clean rag and wipes the cum dripping down your leg off you coo sweetly to you. Turning to face him, your chest fills warm from his tired-looking expression, you're quick to wrap your hands around him and kiss him sweetly. Gabriel surrenders to your gentle kiss, but slowly you become more ravenous taking the lead, your tongue eager to push through to taste him again.

Breaking the kiss to catch his breath he looks into your eyes, and all his confidence wavers as he sees the hunger in your eyes. You're already ready for the next round and he's still recovering. Using your hand you push his chest gently backing him onto the table. A sweet smile on your lips as you watch him lean against the table watching you with bated breath. Before he can even try to make a move or say something he is lifted and pinned on top of his disheveled work table. The surprised look on his face has you licking your lips as you crawl on top of him.

You look as if you could devour him, he can't help how it's making his cock hard again. A smirk falls onto your lips as you see his excitement. Straddling him you start to lazily pump his cock making his hips buckle and he moans from the overstimulation.

“Spidey powers means I have crazy endurance and quick recovery time. Can you keep up?” You start to pump his cock faster making him moan and the precum to pebble from his cock.

Gabriel hiccups and hastily nods, he would do whatever you wanted of him.

Leaning down you lick the secretion off his tip making him whimper and throw his head back.

“Good…” you purr.

-----

Completely spent you lay your tired body next to Gaberials. Your head resting on his warm chest, you could hear how his heart was still racing. Your stamina being higher than his, he had worked double time to satisfy you. Watch beeping, Gabriel lazily looks and sighs seeing that it is time for another one of the dull meetings.

“We have a meeting to go to”

Looking at him you think for a moment then a sly smile crosses your lips

“Well, that's no fun”

“No, it's not”

“Want to go take a shower in my dimension instead?”

A gasp leaves his lips “And skip our very important and completely not irrelevant meeting instead?”

Biting your lip holding in a laugh you nod enthusiastically.

Gabriel kisses your nose “Let me grab my clothes.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv #atsv fanfiction #gabriel #gabriel o'hara #gabriel o'hara x reader #gabriel o'hara x you #atsv smut #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff and smut #smut fic #fluff and humor #romance #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse smut

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kit-and-wolfe · 1 month

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Battle of the Bands

Hobie, Miguel, Gabriel, Gwen and 1st person pov OC / MC

New Adult magical realism AU (obvi) brain worm that has grown from a 2-shot screenplay for some fun comics into a monster. This fic is like Tremors in my brain.

The summer before college MC, Gabriel O'Hara, and Miguel O'Hara go on an international road trip with their metal band, Neon Requiem. Destination? BandFest, the Battle of the Bands in London guaranteed to secure the winning band a record deal. They meet other ATSV characters along the way.

No mention of Y/N / Reader, written from 1st person POV. Self-insertion is made easier by fewer details about the MC.

Notes on language: Tried my best here, if you are a native speaker of French, let me know if the MC's French is unnatural and I will love you forever.

Romance, angst, and poorly understood music concepts are often written as having a distinct visual component because I am an artist first. <

@pinksugarscrub @the-kr8tor I DID THE THING!

*******************************************************************

Chapter 1 - “Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l’oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire”

The Rusty Nail's neon whir and raucous rhythms had been muted to a melancholy hum that evening, it was a ghost town, the emptiness of the dimly lit bar echoing with decades of unfulfilled longings. I nursed my drink, letting the smoky burn of liquor etch contours of quiet contemplation onto my throat as I surveyed the handful of kindred souls keeping solemn vigil. Life had been feeling heavy, and I needed to write, to make art, and to get lost in music.

At the far end of the bar hunched a beautiful wraith, his slim, angular frame sheathed in torn denim and studded leather. Something indefinable shimmered around him, unsung poetry, snippets of melodies, a symphony I could see and hear and almost touch. Drawn like a moth to the lambent glow of the music, I slid onto the stool beside the ethereal punk spectre. In my mind's eye, I crowned him the prince of punk, a fairy tale rebel.

Our bodies brushed intimately in the cramped space, raising ghosts of sensation along the exposed skin of my fishnets. "Wozzat, luv?" he murmured, kohl-rimmed eyes flickering over the point of contact with a soldering heat.

Mon dieu, {My God} Had I spoken my admiration aloud? A flush crept up my cheeks as I scrambled for a response.

"Désolé. Je répétais quelque chose pour ne pas l'oublier… Need to write it down before I lose it," {Sorry. I was repeating something so I wouldn't forget it…} I mumbled, a flimsy excuse for my wandering mind.

Fumbling through my bag ,I pulled out my tattered notebook, fingers trembling as I scribbled down a scrap of verse inspired by the punk's incandescent presence beside me. I scribbled my observations in hasty strokes. The dying light of day bled into night, a liminal space that begged for a soundtrack. I could almost hear it, a melody just out of reach, shimmering in the smoky air.

"The liminal light of late afternoon, yawning into early evening…" I muttered, pulling on the strings of the melody, trying to draw it back to me. "I don't want to be loved for the things that I don't do. I don't want to be just a pretty face, I want to be a work of art…We are all just works of art."

The jukebox fell silent, making my mutterings around sift and strange, slightly unhinged---but the punk prince remained---his gaze heavy on my skin. I met his stare, unflinching. Unabashed curiosity flickered in eyes, wide brown and doe-like, framed by lashes so lush they seemed to blur the line between masculine and feminine, earthly and ethereal. I found myself dizzied by warring impulses - to flee this unsettling intimacy, or be consumed by it wholly.

He was a changeling, gorgeously androgynous: part punk Mona Lisa with a Cheshire cat grin, part Jean-Michel Baptiste, part force-of-fucking-nature. He made me feel like a background character in his story, could be a punk fairy princess, and I would be the dragon. My thoughts raced, fragments of poetry and half-formed desires. I scribbled faster, chasing the threads of inspiration, but a nudge from my prince brought me back to earth.

Snatches of poetry, raw and unfinished, that I urgently longed to refine on the page before they dissipated like the last wisps of smoke in a spent ashtray. But the punk's aura dragged me too deeply into devotional reverie. I glanced up apologetically as my concentration scattered, the thread of inspiration slipping through my fingers once more.

The bartender had sprouted up directly in front of me, and she eyed me expectantly. Her hair was a shock of blue curls and silver streaks shorn close to her scalp, it made her eyes seem more gray. Her skin etched with lines that mapped out the years like a roadmap. I felt the familiar pang of a poem lost to the ether.

"Un…Jack Daniel's, s'il vous plaît," {A…Jack Daniel's, please} I said, no longer able to filter its lilt from my words, as I wasn't paying attention to dulling it.

"Blimey, that's a proper choice, innit? You 'ere for the battle of the bands event this week, love?"

"Oui, how did you know?" {Yes, how did you know?}

"Just a…sense," he demurred with a wicked grin. "Call it a punk's intuition, darling. I'm in the mix too, y'know."

The bartender chuckled as she set my drink down. "You mean because everyone is here for Bandfest? Don't listen to this one, lovey, he's incorrigible. The crowds will be in later on, but you're a bit early."

"Shh, Roz. Who's up tonight?" The prince asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Oh, you want insider information? What's in it for me?"

"Givin' away free tattoos, could autograph yer arm, love."

"I'll pass, thanks. The brackets are up in an hour anyway. It's Night Terrors vs. Death Rapture, Blood Prophecy vs. Cherry Bomb, Spider Punks vs. Neon Requiem…"

"Why are the punk bands going up against the metal bands?" I asked, just as the prince inquired about Phantom Pulse.

"There wasn't a lot of quality competition this year, or that's what the sponsors said, so they automatically advance to the semifinals since they won last year."

"Bollocks!" The prince cried, his outrage palpable.

"Oi Punk, you don't want to sign with Vic Luna at Zenith Music Group, anyway."

"Tu…ne le fais pas? Mais pourquoi?" {You…don't? But why?} The words tumbled out, my curiosity getting the better of me. At her blank stare, I repeated the question in English, heat rising to my cheeks.

Roz leaned in, her voice low, "Look kid, it's complicated…"

The prince rolled his eyes, a sneer playing at his lips. "Betrayed a lot of good bands."

"You don't need to remind me, Punk, I lived through it. Despite the changes at Zenith Music Group, they still organize the annual Bandfest, which showcases both established and emerging talent in the punk and metal scenes. The event is highly respected within the community and provides a platform for bands to gain exposure and connect with fans," the bartender continued, her words stilted, rehearsed.

"Ay, and they are the sponsor bringing in your crowds." The prince's voice was sharp, laced with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

"The only time we're out of the red, punkass. We'd have to shut down if it weren't for the Battle." She said heavily, "Which is the greater evil, we are a place of refuge for several members of the community, not just you."

"You don't need to remind me Roz, I'm living through it. Right, I'll stop ragging on the corporate sods for now, until you have some plausible deniability." He raised his hands in mock surrender, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"There's a good Punk." Roz smiled, sliding him another pint before retreating.

I made a mental note to warn my bandmates about Vic and Zenith's sordid history. We were in this for the music, not the money, no one played metal for the money--but it never hurt to be cautious.

"Roz is like the den mother of the London punk scene, a living testament to grit and resilience, and screaming yourself hoarse at basement shows. Dream t'be like her when I grow up. To listen without judgment, offer advice without preaching, and know when to slide a shot of whiskey across the bar and when to cut you off. She has a way of looking at you, really seeing you, like you matter… like you are more than just another face in the crowd." His voice trails off, heavy with emotion. He blinks and shakes it off.

"Can I see it?" The prince's voice cut through our lost thoughts, his fingers reaching for my notebook.

I clutched it to my chest, a knee-jerk reaction. "Can you look into my very soul, like Roz?"

His smirk widened, that Cheshire cat grin that set my heart racing. He nodded, a challenge in his eyes.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he purred, and I felt my stomach flip. I repeated the phrase in my mind, first in French, then in English, just to be sure I'd heard him right. Wasn't this some flirty idiom?

"You have a book of poetry somewhere hidden in those skinny jeans, mon ami?" {my friend?} I ask, hesitant, double-checking his meaning. He flirts like others breathe.

In lieu of an answer, he produced a sharpie from thin air. Before I could protest, he had my arm in his grasp, his touch electric against my skin. I shrugged off my leather jacket, baring my arms to his ink-stained fingers. Roz chuckled as she set another drink before me, clearly amused by the prince's antics.

"You'll need it…I see you took this wanker up on the free tattoo offer. Don't let him draw any on your arms."

"Any? …Any what?"

"Wankers," she clarified with a laugh. It clarifies nothing, I need to study my British slang.

"I would not mar the flesh of such a beautiful and willing participant, Roz. Kindly fuck off," the prince mumbled around the sharpie cap clenched between his teeth.

Between the verses he scrawled, he peppered me with questions, his voice a giddy whisper.

"So, who's your poison, love? Which bands get your motor runnin'?"

"Ah, j'adore Rammstein, Gojira, et bien sûr, Motörhead. And so many others, doesn't even scratch the surface. Et toi?" {Ah, I love Rammstein... And you?}

"Proper choices, those. For me, it's the classics - Sex Pistols, The Clash, Buzzcocks. Real raw, in-your-face stuff, y'know?"

I leaned in, excited, but too close. I nearly jumped as my lips grazed the dusky shell of his ear. "Ah, un homme de bon goût! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, c'était incroyable!" {Ah, a man of good taste! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, it was incredible!}

"No bleedin' way! Metal chick like you? I'd give me left bollock to have seen the Sex Pistols live. But I did catch The Clash back in '07. Changed me life, it did."

"Lemmy, sans aucun doute. The man's a legend!" {Lemmy, without a doubt.} I declare into the bar.

"Oi, don't go disrespectin' Johnny, now! The bloke's a punk icon, 'e is!"

"You're a punk icon!" someone shouted from the back, but the prince waved them off with a grin.

"Oh, I didn't catch your name," I said, with a sudden shame, my brow furrowed.

"Everyone just calls me Punk. You can too. Just not dirty punk, we don't want to come to blows, do we, love?"

"I'd kick your ass, mon ami. Pas grand chose à donner, mon petit prince des fées… eh mon prince dégingandé, right? I would not describe you as petite even if you are skinny." {I'd kick your ass, my friend. Not much to give, my little fairy prince… eh my lanky prince, right?}

Miguel was at my side in an instant, all rippling muscle and furrowed consternation. "Carnalita, {little sis} why did you sneak out on practice just to drink in this hellhole?" he rumbled, disapproval lacing every sonorous word. Tenderness faded a bit.

I met his gruff chiding with an insouciant toss of my hair. "Salut, Miguel. Ça fait longtemps." {Hello, Miguel. It's been a while.}

"Is that Jack? No puedo mas… Carnalita…This shit is bad for you." {I can't take it anymore…little sis...}

"Je nais etre rond comme une queue de pelle. Tu es vraiment un trou de balle quand tu dis des choses pareilles!" {I would be round as a shovel handle. (Idiom, essentially she is saying ~ I was born to be drunk) You are really a dumbass when you say things like that!}

Miguel's grumbling stream of Spanish reprimands washed over me as I settled into our familiar dynamic - the tender yet terse cantata of friend and protector that had composed them score of our relationship since childhood. For all his bluster, I knew every arrhythmic cadence encoded Miguel's steadfast affection.

Only Gabriel's soft interjection could salve the rising discord. "You worry too much, Miggy. We've been practicing all week."

He cast me a plaintive glance, silently pleading for conciliation, and I grudgingly obliged with an internal eyeroll. "Qu'il aille se faire! C'est vraiment chiant tu te rends compte." {Let him go fuck himself! It's really annoying, you know.}

Heedless of my saucy french asides, Miguel merely drew a fortifying breath before continuing in that maddening timbre of unrelenting reason. "Gabri and I could have come out with you. You shouldn't go out alone in an unknown city - it's not safe for you, mi carnalita."

The prince leaned towards us with a lazy smirk, "S'not that serious. The Rusty Nail is safe enough." He paused as the bartender snorted in agreement before continuing, "We're keeping the lady safe, mate…you can trust me, I'm one of the Spider-Punks."

Miguel simply sneered at the prince's proffered handshake, dismissing it out of hand. "You have arms like sticks. How would you keep her safe?"

The punk's smirk widened as he shrugged. "Ah, one of those. Never skip leg day, eh bruv?"

I strangled a guffaw as Gabriel hastened to run interference, engulfing the punk's hand eagerly. "We've heard of you guys, the local punk band, yeah? Your drummer is…gahh…Ah-Mazing! You think we could meet?"

"You call that punk noise "rock"?" Miguel scoffed. "Metal is where the real skill lies…Real talent is in the complexity, the technical skill. Metal pushes boundaries, takes you to new places. Punk's just three chords and an attitude."

I rolled my eyes. At this rate, I'd have to drag Miguel out before he started a brawl.

"Ah, mais non, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, non?" {Ah, but no, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, right?}

Miguel grunted, but squeezed my hand.

I stood, motioning for him to lean in close. "Allez, let's save the competition for the stage, d'accord? I learned some things about the record company. We should talk in private." {Come on, let's save the competition for the stage, okay?}

The prince unfolded himself, towering over me. "Tell you what, mate. Let's settle this on stage. We'll let the crowd decide who's got the real chops," he challenged.

Gabriel chimed in, "Pero, mana's right, Miguel." {But, sister is right, Miguel.}

Miguel looked ready to explode, but Gabriel's eyes held him in check.

"Music's music. Let's just focus on putting on a good show, and maybe we can learn something from their band, eh?" Gabriel said.

The prince leaned in, lips grazing my cheek. "Aye, love. Can't wait to teach your wall of meat here a thing or two. How about we give 'em a show they won't forget…later?"

I grinned, "Oui! A collaboration? Here… Ça ne casse pas trois pattes à un canard…mais, pour vous. I want it back later." {Yes! A collaboration? Here…It doesn't break three duck legs (Idiom ~ It's nothing special) …but, for you. I want it back later.}

The lanky punk sauntered off, his studded boots leaving faint trails of glitter on the barroom floor. Miguel's scowl deepened as he watched him depart, fists clenched tightly.

"Is that your poetry notebook?" he growled, voice rumbling low.

"Yes, I traded it to the punk faerie for these tattoos, I smirked, revealing the vine-like scrawl of ink now adorning my flesh like raised scars from whipping brambles.

Miguel's face darkened further, storm clouds gathering at my words. "The one you never let anyone touch or read…"

His voice strangled to a whisper, and I could not parse the complex calculus of emotions flitting behind his eyes

Gabriel placed a calming hand on his brother's arm.

"Easy, hermano {brother}. He's not worth it," Gabriel said in a soothing tone.

"Be nice, Punk is a good guy. I like him," I countered softly, a warm glow blossomed within me as I realized my entire arm was now a crawling garden of sentences entirely in French.

Miguel opened his mouth, undoubtedly to unleash a heated retort, but Gabriel cut in, "Should we go look at the brackets to see who we're facing?"

"It looks like my entire arm is covered with quotes from The Little Prince, which happens to be my favorite book. It's actually quite a sweet gesture," I said softly, fingertips grazing the raised words like treasured runes.

With renewed curiosity, I examined the ink quote now etched on my skin: "Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l'oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire." {You are the master of your life and your emotions, never forget that. For better or worse.}

I didn't mention the lone scrawl that could have been a phone number hidden amidst the literary foliage now vining my limb. Miguel was in full-on Dad mode, and I didn't need to add fuel to that particular fire.

"I already know the competition for the quarterfinals, we don't need to waste our time. Come on, manos {used as slang for brother}, we're going to kick some ass!" I giggled brightly, elated at my new 'tattoos' scrawling up my arms. I didn't put my leather jacket back on, I didn't want to cover any of it up.

Miguel's glare never wavered, his eyes fixed on the far side of the bar where the prince had disappeared into the crowd. "Don't tempt me. Let's go, carnalita {little sister}, time for practice."

With a resigned sigh, I surrendered to my brothers' insistent tugs, allowing them to lead me from the Rusty Nail. But the punk prince's parting words still reverberated through my mind like the lingering notes of a siren song. Later, he had purred, that single hushed syllable seeming to contain all the intoxicating lure of a siren's call - equal parts velvet promise and brazen challenge, twined inextricably into an enchantment I could not resist. The whole damn bar was a sailor's nightmare.

#across the spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie fluff #hobie brown #astv hobie #spider punk #au spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel fanfic #hobie fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #gabriel o'hara

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maddieautobot273 · 10 months

Text

Silk & Cologne (22)

A Miguel O’Hara x OC Series - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 22 - Promotion - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC

Words: 3.2K+

Warnings: PG - no major warnings other than sibling banter

Summary: Miguel requests an audience with Lisa

/////////

“I can't find it in myself to just walk away

I can't find it in myself to lose everything~”

My dance crew and I stepped lightly as we walked through a rough routine I had managed to plan out in the spawn of a mere two hours. I stayed up a little longer than I should have, exhausting over taking me after fighting a stone golem to rescue your boss and crush will do that to a person. But after a quick run to Starbucks for a cold brew, I was back on my feet.

We all turned, forming a circle as Touya, Touga, Hannah and I surrounded Kasey. We all reached our arms out towards her as she crossed her arms over her chest, something similar to the Wakanda Forever salute before flexing her arms down to her sides. As she did that, the rest of us dropped to one knee, kneeling as we bowed our heads to her.

“Feel everyone's against me, don't want me to be great

Things might look bad, I'm afraid to look death in the face~”

Kasey then propelled herself forward, sliding along the floor. Hannah and I steered clear of her entrance. As we faced in her direction, Toya stepped behind Hannah and Touga stepped behind me, the boys hoisting us up to our feet and became our dance partners. The pair of us did a sweet waltz as Kasey was up front performing her own solo.

“I'm good now, who's really bad?

I choose me now, what's wrong with that?

Wish you could see me

Now, now, mm, who had my back, baby?

Know no love lost, good always will win~”

As Kasey finished her solo, the boys slowly dipped Hannah and I closer to the floor as the music began to fade. When it was over, they pulled us back up and the group erupted with a series of cheers and applause.

“That was so good!” Hannah exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“You guys really liked it?” I sounded hopeful as I looked at their excited faces. “I mean, it’s not done yet, I still have the rest of the song to figure out–!”

I tried to not let my rambling get the better of me. I couldn’t help but as the nerves coursed through me and I began to crack my knuckles out of habit. They all seemed so thrilled, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through their veins.

“Lisa, that was stunning!” Kasey praised as she clapped her hands together. “I knew making you our team captain was the right call,”

“Got any other sick moves planned?” Toya asked with an accelerating look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I wanna keep going!” Touga nodded his head eagerly in agreement.

“Sorry guys, but that was all I could manage to come up with and write down before clocking out for the night,” I rubbed the back of my neck, casting an apologetic look at the boys.

“Well, I thought it was wonderful!” Hannah smiled sweetly. “Maybe next time don’t do it in the middle of the night and pace yourself?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I chuckled with embarrassment.

“But hey, we’ve got a framework now, so let’s use that when figuring out the rest of the routine,” Kasey grinned with an eager look on her face.

We all agreed and ran through the routine once more before taking a break. I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall as I rummaged through my bag for the banana bread I had bought during my Starbucks run. As I pulled it out, the screen on my gizmo lit up.

My face lit up as I tapped on the screen, bringing up the message before taking a bite out of my snack.

“Just got discharged, wanted to let you know I’m feeling okay.” - Miguel

“How’s practice going?” - Miguel

I smiled at the message, sighing in relief that he was alright. I continued to munch on my bread as I typed up my own message.

“It’s going well! I was just going through a part of the routine I came up with with the others. It was well received!” - Lisa

“So you finally heard back from the artist, then? Do you like the song?” - Miguel

“It’s definitely different from most of his other songs that my friends have shown me. I think it’s something you might actually like! I would show you, but I’m under an NDA agreement, lol” - Lisa

“No interdimensional exceptions?” - Miguel

“Was that another joke from the great Miguel O’hara?” - Lisa

“ *eye roll emoji* perhaps” - Miguel

“Sorry, no exceptions. But I’d be happy to show you when the NDA is lifted after the performance,” - Lisa

“I’d like that,” - Miguel

I chuckled at his response, not sure if he was just being nice or was genuinely serious. What was his music preference? Would he like this?

Maybe I should make a playlist for him for his work outs when I’m not with him.

“If you’re free after practice today, would you mind stopping by HQ?” - Miguel

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” - Miguel

My body froze, jaw dropping slightly as I read his latest messages. Did he read the report Gwen made? Does he know about the curse? Does he know I kissed him?

My mind began to race as I tried to calm myself down, not wanting anyone else to notice me and think I must have looked like a lunatic.

“Sure thing. Is everything okay?” - Lisa

“Yes, everything is fine. No need to worry. I just wanted to go over some things, that’s all,” - Miguel

What things?

“No problem, I’ll be there!” - Lisa

“What’cha doing, Lisa?” Hannah’s voice caught my ear as she sat down beside me.

I instantly shut the screen off on my Gizmo and looked over at her. “Oh, nothing! A friend just messaged me, that’s all,”

“Oh? Is it the famous boyfriend you’ve told us about?” Hannah giggled sweetly as her eyes seemed to sparkle.

My cheeks flushed at her claim as I chuckled nervously. “Maybe?”

“Oh, and how is he doing?” She asked with a genuine curiosity before handing me a small zip lock bag. “Cookie?”

I couldn’t help but giggle softly as I reached in and grabbed a cookie. “He’s doing good. He was at the doctor’s yesterday and he was just letting me know it went well and he’s feeling okay,”

“That’s good! You must be very relieved,” She smiled sweetly.

“I am,” I sighed happily as I took a bite out of the cookie.

“Say hi to him for us the next time you see him, and tell him we’re happy he’s feeling better!” Hannah beamed. “I hope it wasn’t anything serious,”

Oh, you know, just glitching cause you were stuck in another dimension and your atoms were slowly breaking apart and killing you bit by bit unless you’re wearing a fancy high tech watch. Absolutely not serious at all.

“Oh, it’s fine, just a normal check up,” I nodded, waving the worry away.

“Oh, good!” Hannah smiled. “You know, my mom always said that the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Why not try making something to cheer him up?”

“Make him something?” I repeated, raising a brow at Hannah as the idea peaked my interest.

Would that help make things less awkward for us and get to know him more?

“Yo ladies,” Toya waved off at us as his brother Touga and Kasey were doing some warm ups. “You two ready to keep practicing?”

“Coming, Toya!” I smiled before looking over at Hannah. “Ready?”

“Ready Freddy!” She giggled.

No use in worrying about what Miguel wanted to talk about right now. I needed to focus on this routine and be here in the moment with my team.

///////

After practice was done, I ran back home to my apartment and quickly changed into my spider suit. I know for simplicity sake, most Spider-Men wear their suits under their clothes. You never know when a villain is going to show up, but considering my current situation, I thought it wasn’t necessary.

I jumped through the portal activated from my gizmo and arrived at Spider-Society HQ. Coming through the lobby and entering the main hall, the building was lively as ever as I made my way through the halls and arrived at Miguel’s lab. Walking through the large doors, I stepped out of the brightly lit hallway into the dim lighting of his lab.

It didn’t feel as scary coming back the second time around. I walked through the entryway and entered the large hall where his platform hovered high in the air. It was beginning a descent as Miguel swiped at some holoscreens.

“Miguel?” I called out, offering him a wave.

He turned, looking down towards me after hearing my voice. “Lisa,” he offered me a kind nod. “Thank you for coming,”

“Hey, you said it was important, so who am I to make you wait?” I smiled in response.

I stood there for a few moments, watching as the platform continued its slow decline. Its painfully slow decline, I should say. I crossed my arms, patiently waiting as I shifted my weight in between my feet.

“Um, Miguel?” I spoke up.

“It’s slow, I know,” He shook his head in understanding. “I’ve been meaning to get it fixed, but things keep getting in the way,”

“He won’t fix it,” Lyla pipped in as she appeared on my shoulder. “He likes it that way cause it makes him look so imposing,”

“Lyla,” Miguel’s voice deeply groaned in warning.

“Am I wrong?” She grinned as she fizzled and reappeared on top of my head.

Miguel scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s alright, Lisa, you can come up,”

“Oh,” My eyes widened at the offer, jumping briefly before shaking off the nerves. “Okay, coming up!”

I used my web sling to hoist me up in the air and landed on Miguel’s platform. There were computer consoles and monitors setup along its center, not to mention the multitude of holographic screens that hovered around Miguel. I stepped closer, taking them all in. Some were schematics for machines, others were various security monitors of the building, and anomaly detection scanners.

“I can certainly see why you’d be busy up here,” I spoke softly as I continued to look around.

“Someone’s gotta do it, might as well be me,” Miguel shrugged his shoulders. Speaking as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I watched as he reached for a vial and grabbed that strange looking staple gun, injecting the contents of the vial into his shoulder. He grunted slightly, his body twitching with the injection. There was a tingle in his eyes, and before I could ask him about it, a new noise caught my attention.

Someone giggling. A child giggling.

I glanced over, my eyes coming to one of the holographic monitors. There was video footage playing of a little girl in a soccer jersey. She ran towards someone as the male figure kneeled down and patted their head. My pupils widened when I realized it was Miguel.

He was smiling. He looked happy. Genuinely happy. Who was the child that was with them?

“Who’s–?

Miguel coughed suddenly as my cheeks flushed and I stepped away, looking towards him. Miguel lowered his fist from his lips as he motioned his head to the side. “That’s enough work for the day, Lyla, thank you,”

“Shutting it all down, boss,” Lyla smirked as one by one the holographic monitors powered down, their orange hues disappearing.

I noticed that the video footage of the child was the first to go.

“Thank you again for coming on such short notice,” Miguel spoke up as he walked closer towards me.

I composed myself, clearing my throat. “It’s no problem. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to properly commend you on the mission yesterday. I read Gwen’s report earlier this morning,” He explained.

My eyes widened at the realization. A sting of fear coursed through me. “You did?”

“Yes,” He nodded and his face relaxed into something more genuine from his stern demeanor. He was proud. “Although I had trouble playing back most of the Gizmo surveillance footage. Lyla says there was some sort of magnetic interference in that sector of Petra’s world.”

My soul nearly left my body in pure relief as I heard that sentence. Lyla was still keeping true to her word and hiding what really happened during that mission. Although I felt awful about lying to Miguel, something kept nagging me in the back of my mind that it was the right thing to do.

“With that being said; You displayed true bravery, skill, and determination. All good qualities of a Spider,” Miguel offered me a proud nod.

“Wait, does this mean?” My pupils slowly grow wide as I feel a wave of adrenaline course through me.

“This doesn’t change anything about our deal,” Miguel quickly elaborated, pointing a gentle finger at me. “However, it made me realize you would do well to earn more hands on experience in the field,”

“So?” I pressed on, taking a step forward as I crossed my arms behind my back.

He scoffed with an almost half smile on his face. “So, I’ll allow you to take part in missions, under my choosing. Is that fair?”

I nodded eagerly, even offering him a friendly salute. “Yes, absolutely! I won’t let you down,”

Miguel let his guard down briefly, chuckling as he began to walk to the platform’s edge. “At ease, Spider-Muse,”

I gawked at the man as I stared at his back, watching how his muscles seemed to twitch and move with his arms as he laughed. “Please don’t tell me that’s catching on already,”

“Oh, believe me, it has,” Miguel smirked with a smug look in his eyes. “For once, I actually agree with Hobie,”

“You? Agreeing with Hobie?” I stared at him with a stun expression as I took a couple steps towards him. “Who are you and what have you done my Miguel?”

I instantly bit my tongue, taking a step back as Miguel turned to face me. His eyebrows arched in surprise, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually offended by what I had said. “My Miguel?”

“Well, you must be in a really good mood if you’re agreeing with Hobie?” I quickly back tracked, chuckling nervously.

He seemed to stare at me for a few moments, the silence obliterating me before he hummed softly, “I suppose I am. But enough messing around, follow me,”

Miguel motioned for me to follow him as the platform finally made its descent to the floor. We exited his lab and made our way through the halls of the Spider-Society and entered a wing of the building I had never been in before. “Where are we?” I asked as I looked around a very messy laboratory.

“Welcome to my domain!” A voice called out.

I jumped as a male figure stepped out from the shadows. He had curly brown hair with a pair of orange goggles strapped to his head. Freckles adorned his cheeks and his eyes were a hazel green. He wore a dirty green jumpsuit with a yellow scarf around his neck. The most shocking part of it all was that his face bore a striking resemblance to Miguel.

“Lisa, I’d like you to meet the Spider-Society’s head engineer,” Miguel motioned a hand towards the man as he stepped forward. “Gabriel O’Hara,”

“O’Hara?” I repeated, my eyes widening as I exchanged a look between the pair.

“I’m Miguel’s playful, charming, younger brother,” Gabriel introduced himself with a playful bow before offering his hand. “It’s an honor to finally meet you in the flesh, Miss Lisa,”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I smiled softly as we shook each other's hands. “How come we never met before?”

“Oh, you know how older brothers get when they introduce a girl to the rest of the family,” Gabriel grinned with a teasing look before he whispered lowly. “Very protective, you know?”

“Gabe,” Miguel shot Gabriel a warning glare, his hands crossed behind his back as if to stop himself from physically laying a hand on him.

“I’m just teasing big brother,” Gabriel chuckled with a sweet laugh. “Although I can’t understand why he never said how cute you look,”

Gabriel shot me a wink and I found myself blushing at the compliment. “Oh, uh–!”

“¡Oye, eso es suficiente!” Miguel growled, his muscles tensing. - Hey, that’s enough

“See?” Gabriel raised a brow, nodding his head with a knowing look. “Protective,”

“Need I remind you that’s not why we’re here,” Miguel tried his hardest to calm his tone as he glared at his brother.

I glanced between the pair and took a step forward, deciding to intervene in the event things got ugly. Although maybe this is normal sibling banter? I wouldn’t know since I’m an only child.

“Um, so Gabriel, you’re the engineer here?” I asked him with a peak of curiosity.

“I help out with his gadgets and help Lyla keep things running here at HQ. If you think about it, that would make me his–” Gabriel had a wide, teasing grin on his face.

“Gabe, don’t you dare say it!” Miguel pointed a lecturing finger at his brother.

“Guy–” Gabriel started.

“No-!” Miguel narrowed his eyes.

“--In the chair,” Gabriel bowed as if he were a showman.

Miguel sighed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “No puedo mas, no puedo mas,” - I can’t even

“Come on! It’s a cute concept,” Gabriel chuckled at his brother’s reaction as he fell back into his chair.

“Once, I let you come with me to Earth 19999 once,” Miguel huffed, putting his hands on his lips as he paced anxiously in a circle. “I’ll never hear the end of it,”

“Anyways, I imagine Miguel has given you the news about your promotion now, right?” Gabriel smiled. “I’m gonna be helping you make some upgrades to your suit so you’ll be better equipped while you’re out dimension hopping,”

“Upgrade my suit?” My eyes lit up as I glanced down at it. “I thought it was working fine,”

“Just because something already works, doesn’t mean it can’t be improved,” Gabriel softly lectured as he motioned for the two of us to follow him.

Gabriel activated a console and a machine came to life. A platform glowed as holographic screens surrounded it.

“After the incident with the mosh, I became concerned that your suit had been compromised,” Miguel spoke up, speaking honestly as he looked over towards Miguel. “I asked Gabriel to help,”

“Now Miss Lisa, all you need to do is stand up there and get comfy,” Gabriel smiled as he put his goggles on. “We might be here a while,”

I cautiously walked over towards the platform, stepping on it as its hue glowed brighter when it registered my presence and a blue beam of light began to scan me from the feet up.

“Lyla, in the meantime, keep trying to repair the frequency of Gwen’s Gizmo,” Miguel spoke as the AI appeared at his shoulder. “I’d like to see the mission play back,”

Lyla exchanged a look with me, her digital eyes pouring into mine before nodding her head. “I’ll keep trying boss,”

//////////

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greensagephase · 6 months

Text

Nonviolent Communication - Part Ten

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: Miguel continues to recover while trying to figure out how to move on. You take another step forward in your own mourning journey.

Word Count: 23,982

Warnings: I reviewed this three times but I may have missed some errors so apologies in advance; more Spanish terms than usual, I think but translations are provided at the end like always; mostly fluff with a bit of angst but it's necessary angst

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight |

Part Nine |Part Ten |Part Eleven|

Part Ten

A little while after your friends leave, Miguel and you lie on your respective beds for the night. You’re already passed out asleep but Miguel is still awake and he finds himself, once again, watching you sleep. He looks away, remembering that Lyla caught him staring the previous night. Yet, there’s something comforting about watching you sleep. Miguel doesn’t understand why but there is. There’s the sound of your breathing; slow, even, and soft. It’s like an invitation to sleep. Like a calling, letting him know that it’s safe for him to do the same.

There’s also the sight of you. You’re once again hugging your pillow and Miguel cannot help but wonder if this is how you always sleep, as this is the third time he’s seen you like this. Watching you sleep, Miguel cannot help but feel ternura, a word in Spanish that translates to “tenderness” or “endearment.” However, he specifically thinks of “ternura” because no term in English does justice to the Spanish translation. The term incites a much deeper feeling than “tenderness” or “endearment” in him. It’s different somehow, even if they translate to the same thing and he suddenly wonders, as he watches you, why he’s even having this chain of thought.

He shakes his head gently, wanting to clear his mind and tries to do so by turning his attention to the windows instead with a soft sigh. The blinds are drawn but he can still see through them. His eyes land on faraway lights from cars, while his ears remain focused on your breathing. His mind shifts back to his thoughts from earlier when your friends were here. On how he’ll try to move forward.

He has time to think about how he’ll do it. He knows it’ll be hard and that it won’t be an overnight change as he’s lived with this mindset for such a long time. It’ll take small steps, and some will be harder to reach than others, but he’ll try. He hasn’t given up in the past when it comes to other things, so Miguel now tries to think of this process in the same way. He won’t give up on it. He won’t give up on moving forward. For them. He smiles faintly, still looking out the windows from the bed, as he remembers his family members telling him they were always around. He looks around the room now, wondering. He remembers Gabriel’s words.

“We’re always with you. Even if you don’t believe it or sense us, we’re always there. In every mission. In every universe. Every day and sleepless night.”

Every sleepless night. Miguel isn’t sleepless tonight. Nor lonely. He looks over at you and for a second, he swears he sees the blanket draped over you move slightly. Miguel blinks and shakes his head once again, thinking he should really go to sleep now. With his eyes on you, he can’t help the thought that comes to his mind suddenly.

“If you’re really around at all times, spare me from losing again. From losing… her.”

And maybe it’s silly but Miguel doesn’t take his thought back. He means it and he hopes that if his family is really here or somewhere out there listening, that they’ve heard his plea. With that, he finally closes his eyes and leans back on the pillows, letting your breathing pull him to sleep.

★★★

The next morning when Miguel wakes up, he finds you awake. You look like you’ve showered already and you’re once again typing into the tablet he’s seen you with this entire weekend. It’s Monday and Miguel suddenly feels like he ought to be in his lab, which he now realizes he’s been away from since Friday night. The thought makes him pause for a few seconds. It’s been so long since he’s spent a weekend out of the lab, and he can’t believe it was due to injuries.

He stretches slightly, wincing when he feels pain in his lower abdomen from the trident wound. You notice and are at his side in the blink of an eye.

“Are you okay?”

Miguel nods, meeting your eyes. “Yes, I just stretched too much. Don’t worry, the pain is subsiding now. I thought it’d be better today.”

“Little by little. Try not to put too much strain, especially on the stitches please,” you reply, watching Miguel with concerned eyes, which he takes notice of.

He instantly feels guilty for making you feel concerned over him, so he gives you a small smile, hoping that it’ll reassure you. It does or at least he believes so because you smile back at him.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m just not used – to this,” Miguel admits and then realizes he’s not used to any of what happened this weekend, and so much happened. There were many realizations. Many firsts. Too many thoughts. All with you by his side; his friend, the one that hardly left his side this entire weekend. The one that found him on that rainy rooftop. The one that gave him the gizmo to keep him from glitching. The one that watched him died and come back to life. The one that fed him, and helped him showered with such care and tenderness. His friend. Miguel’s face suddenly feels very warm. He clears his throat and motions to the tablet that you left behind on the fold out chair. “You’re still working on the report?”

You nod, feeling more relaxed now that you see Miguel is no longer in pain. “Sections two and three are done. I’m almost done with the anomaly section,” you inform him, and he nods, remembering that he wants to ask you if you’d be interested in working with him on the report from now on. He decides to ask later, maybe after breakfast.

“That’s good. I look forward to seeing the complete edition,” he answers with another small grin.

“Hopefully you like it,” you reply with your own grin. “Do you want to get up and walk around a bit? Maybe use the bathroom?”

Miguel nods and so, you help him once again to get to the bathroom. You help him brush his teeth and offer to clean his face, which he hesitantly agrees to again. Once he’s ready, you help him walk to the fold-out chair as he doesn’t want to be in bed anymore.

You offer Miguel breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, which he accepts. You surprise Miguel with another large coffee cup, making him wonder how you managed to do it again. It’s been weeks since he was able to get his hands on one but you’ve managed to get three in the span of two days. The two of you have breakfast together before Jess and Peter B. show up to inform Miguel about the day’s tasks. He nods and listens intently to them while you stand by the windows, behind Jess and Peter B., listening quietly to the updates. At last, Jess and Peter B. head out, leaving you and Miguel alone again.

You offer Miguel the tablet so he can check on some things while you fix the room. Shortly after, the medical team arrives to check on Miguel. You’re both happy and relieved when they report that his injuries are healing correctly and that he’s in the right direction for a full recovery. He’s doing so well that he’s discharged with the instruction to rest at home for another day or two, at least until he can move his arms without hurting himself.

So, that’s how you find yourself in Miguel’s penthouse over an hour later after the doctor discharged him. It was an hour later for different reasons. You needed to pick up the items from the bathroom and transport everything Miguel received from spider members to his penthouse. The main reason, however, was that the two of you simply stuck around the infirmary room even when you could’ve left sooner.

As you place your personal hygiene items out on one of the nightstands in Miguel’s guest room now, you can’t help but think how it felt like Miguel didn’t want to leave the infirmary room. You wonder if maybe he had the same thought you had as you were packing up. You were picking up his personal hygiene items from the bathroom and suddenly realized it was time to leave the place that became somewhat of a home over the weekend. The two of you were there the entire time on your own with the exception of two or so hours, even with other spider members in the building.

It was a room in which a lot happened, some of which you wish to not think about while there are other things that make you smile. Exhaustion, fear, helplessness, and other emotions you felt in the early hours on Saturday morning were replaced by the afternoon. Happiness and relief were felt when he woke up at last in the afternoon. There was a bit of humor from the horrible hospital food and Miguel’s grumpiness. There was comfort in seeing him awake and talking, and in his interest in the movies you watched together in the dimly lit room while it rained. There was vulnerability, tenderness, caring… You ate together. Talked. Slept. The two of you shared this one room and in a weird sense, it felt like it was your own little world away from everyone and everything. And perhaps Miguel felt like that, too.

Maybe that’s why he stalled. Maybe that’s why there was relief, gratitude, and something else in his eyes when you walked up to him and told him, “We can head to your penthouse if you’re ready now.”

And unknowingly, you’re correct. Miguel didn’t want to leave the infirmary room because he thought it meant going home to an empty penthouse. It meant your return to your universe. He felt selfish for stalling and for wishing that you’d stop packing but then you walked up to him and the way you looked at him when you told him the two of you could head out made him realize you had no plans on leaving his side yet. At last, he nodded and the two of you left the infirmary room to go to his penthouse.

You finish putting away your items on the nightstand. You’re unsure of tomorrow but you’ll be spending the night today. With your hands on your hips, you look around the room. You remember vague details of the place from Saturday morning when you came looking for Miguel, hoping you’d find him here and that everything was fine. You sigh as you remember those moments so vividly, how you were rushing from room to room. You clear your head and focus on the bedroom instead. It matches the neutral theme the entire penthouse is decorated with. The room is organized and clean, which makes you wonder if Miguel cleans the place himself or if he has someone clean it, considering he hardly spends time here. Either way, you notice there’s no dust on the furniture.

Your gaze falls on a bookshelf, catching your attention. You walk to it and read some of the books’ titles, noticing some of them are specifically about genetics. You smile softly, remembering from somewhere that Miguel is a geneticist. It’s been a very long time since you learned that and you can’t even remember who mentioned it to you. Your eyes move to another shelf with more books though these are on technology. You notice a few of the titles are specifically about inventions and repairs. You hum, wondering but retreat from the bookshelf and walk to one of the windows in the bedroom.

You stand in front of it and look out before a strange sensation washes over you as you’re met with a beautiful sight of Nueva York. Tall buildings in Nueva York’s futuristic architecture and flying cars in the distance meet your gaze. You chase the sensation, wondering what exactly it is. It feels like you’ve been here before somehow, looking out of this very window but you know you haven’t. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head, knowing it’s been a crazy weekend and you’re probably just tired. You sigh softly as you stare out the window for a few seconds longer before you head out of the guest room.

You walk down the stairs, catching Miguel’s eyes from the living room. He sits on the couch closest to the stairs, so he looks up as soon as he hears your steps. The sight of you walking down the stairs makes him pause as he realizes it’s been a long time since anyone has been on the second floor. He doesn’t even know that this is your third time over this single weekend since he’s unaware that you came looking for him on Saturday morning.

You reach the bottom of the stairs at last and give him a smile. “Sorry if I took a while. I got a little distracted,” you admit.

Miguel raises his eyebrows softly, curious. “You didn’t, don’t worry about it. I hope you find everything to your liking. There are clean towels in the bathroom and other essentials you may need. If you need something, please let me know.”

“Everything is great, thank you,” you answer as you take a seat on the other couch, across from him.

Miguel nods. “I’m glad to hear that. I want to make sure your stay is comfortable,” Miguel says softly. “So, please let me know if there’s something you need.” You give Miguel a reassuring smile and nod before he adds, ”You said you got distracted?”

“The view. It’s so lovely,” you say with a smile and Miguel nods, knowing what you mean.

The view from the penthouse was one of the reasons he decided to move here in the first place back when he thought he’d spend a lot of time here. He did to some degree but he eventually spent less and less time after Gabriel passed away. As he sees your smile and enthusiasm about the view, it makes Miguel realize it’s been so long since he’s admired it. He honestly forgot about it. Before he gets a chance to respond, you look down at your gizmo.

“It’s almost lunch time. I was thinking – I’m kind of over cafeteria food. No offense, it’s great but would you like something homemade?” you ask slowly.

Miguel nods softly, a small grin on his face. “I would but – you don’t mind?”

You stand up from the couch, fixing your top. “I don’t mind. It might take me a minute to get acquainted with your appliances, but I got this. Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Anything you make will be more than great to me,” Miguel says softly. “Really, I’ll have whatever you make. You’ve done so much and now this, too…”

“You’ve done this for me, too,” you interject quietly walking over to the console table between the two couches. “Besides, I think we could really use a homemade meal,” you add with a chuckle.

Miguel gives you a small grin. “I agree… Thank you. If we need to order groceries, let me know so I can order them.”

His last sentence makes Miguel pause. He holds your gaze, but you don’t seem to mind it, or even notice it. You smile and nod.

“Don’t worry about it. I have groceries at home that I can bring if needed, alright? You just sit here and relax, I’ll take care of the rest. And here are – all these remotes,” you say with a frown as you pick up multiple remotes. “If you want to watch TV in the meantime. I think – yeah, this one looks like it.”

You walk over to Miguel, who’s still thinking about his comment on the groceries, and place the remote in his hand.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Thank you, Y/N,” Miguel responds at last, giving you a nod before you walk away to the kitchen.

He watches you before he looks down at the remote. He shakes his head, wondering why he’s stuck up on his comment. He turns on the TV but nothing catches his attention, so instead, he slowly looks around his living room from his seat.

The fact that he’s sitting there is strange to him. He can’t remember the last time he sat in his living room. It was some time after Gabriellas’s universe collapsed in the first week after his return. He couldn’t sleep because he was plagued by nightmares of Gabriella calling out to him in fear before she vanished from his arms forever. Yeah, that sounds about right to Miguel. He remembers coming to the living room and sitting here sometimes, in the darkness because he couldn’t stand being in his room. When sitting didn’t work anymore, he’d pace; sometimes forgetting for how long. He paced and paced, something he still does at HQ when he needs a break from the screens, trying to hold back the tears – trying to hold back from screaming in anger, grief, and loss in the dead of night, alone in this empty penthouse.

He remembers looking around on those nights. He barely visited the penthouse during his time in Gabriella’s universe. He had no reason to. It wasn’t his home anymore. It didn’t feel like home anymore. He remembers how foreign, cold, and lonely it felt when he came back. There was no warmth. No sign of family. There were no toys in the living room or pink glitter notebooks on the coffee table with crayons and colored pencils scattered about with the promise that they’d be used again the following day by their owner after homework was completed. There was nothing. It was an empty shell of a place he once hoped he could make a home of, and he was suddenly back because the place that had been his home, no longer existed. Just this.

He couldn’t bear it on top of his recurring nightmares. It was so much easier to immerse himself in work to avoid his thoughts and emotions. It was so much easier to avoid sleep, too, even though he often felt like he was stuck in his nightmares in plain daylight.

And so, that’s why he hardly spends any time here. He only shows up in the morning around six each day to shower and until recently, he’s been staying once a week to sleep thanks to you. Miguel leans back on the couch now as he remembers something from his dream. He scoffs silently as he thinks of Gabriel telling him to sleep and teasing him about gray hairs, which he’s sure he must have by now though he hasn’t noticed them.

“Gabrielito,” Miguel whispers with a small smile, shaking his head. “Trataré. Te lo juro.”

It’s another item on a long list of things Miguel will work on, little by little, but he will try. He’s already made up his mind. He will.

Miguel brings himself back to this moment. The TV is on and he can hear you in the kitchen cooking, yet another strange thing – for someone to be using the kitchen. He can’t help but focus on it. From the sound of cooking utensils and the opening and closing of cabinets and drawers; such mundane yet homey sounds.

Shortly after, Miguel hears your steps. The penthouse has a lovely scent from your cooking and when he looks up, he finds you carrying a plate with food for him. He feels both grateful and guilty at the sight. You’ve done so much for him and spent your weekend not only away from home but your entire universe to look after him. He’s glad the other spider members have kept watch over it while you’ve been here at least but there’s still guilt that you’ve been away for too long.

You don’t mind though. You haven’t even thought about how this is the first time you’ve been away from your apartment in a while, including your universe and you’ve no idea Miguel is thinking about this either, as his face reveals nothing about the matter. He offers you a small smile and thanks you, once again, for everything before you help him. You feel satisfaction when Miguel finishes everything with a delighted look on his face, a far different reaction from when he ate the steamed carrot from the infirmary.

Once he’s done eating, you eat, too. You clean the kitchen afterward and wonder what you’ll make for dinner as you’re still not in the mood for cafeteria or takeout food. On top of that, the way Miguel enjoyed the food lets you know he, too, prefers something homemade. You mentally go through all your groceries from back home and think about what you can cook. You remember a specific Mexican dish you enjoy and wonder if he’d like to eat that. It’s easy to cook but delicious and filling, so you ask Miguel how he feels about it when you finish cleaning the kitchen.

“Hey, I was thinking about dinner. How do you feel about flautas?”

Miguel meets your gaze with a bit of a smile. It almost looks like he’s trying not to smile. He nods. “Flautas sound great. I can help you if you want,” he offers, with a glint in his eyes.

“You can give me advice from one of the stools.”

“Just advice?”

“And conversation, if you’d like. Nothing else though, as you still can’t lift your arms too much,” you say as you take a seat across from him on the other couch.

Miguel at last gives you a small smile. “Advice and conversation it is then,” he replies softly, amused by your refusal to let him do more to help with dinner.

You give him a small smile before you grab the tablet Ben Reilly gave you over the weekend. You’re not even surprised by the fact that it still has battery after how much you’ve used it considering all devices in Miguel’s universe have better battery life. At the sight of the tablet, Miguel remembers his pending question for you regarding the reports.

“Working on the report?”

“Yes, I’m just editing it now. It’ll be ready for Jess to cover tomorrow for the meetings.”

Miguel nods, thinking about what he’s about to talk to you about. It’s one of the few things on his mind right now. “I wanted to ask you…”

You look up, wondering if he’s in any discomfort you haven’t noticed yet, though Miguel looks fine. His natural color has fully returned now, and his energy is higher. He’s on the right track in his recovery. Still, your eyes quickly take in his appearance, finding nothing wrong. You relax again but wonder what’s on his mind.

“I noticed you seem to like working on the report and I was wondering if you’d like to work on them from here on now – with me,” Miguel says, meeting your eyes. “And Lyla,” he adds, remembering her just now.

You hold Miguel’s gaze, processing his offer. You weren’t expecting him to say that, so there’s a bit of surprise on your face, which is noted by Miguel. A few seconds later, you nod with a smile.

“Yeah – I’d like to. Thank you.”

Miguel nods, giving you a small smile. “Great. And once I’m back – hopefully by Wednesday – we can talk about when to start the system training for you and Peter. We could start this week if the two of you are available.”

Still smiling, you nod. “That sounds great. I’ll be available. As long as there’s no emergency, I’m clear.”

Miguel nods, feeling relieved and happy that you’ve agreed. “Great – It’s – It’ll be great having you on the team – for the reports,” he says, feeling a little bit flustered. “Later this week we can discuss how we’ll approach it.”

You continue to smile and nod. “That sounds wonderful. I look forward to it! Thank you again,” you reply softly, noticing Miguel’s reaction. The significance of this doesn’t elude you. You know Miguel hardly asks for help or lets others collaborate with him but he’s invited you to work with him on the reports now and then there’s the system training, too. You look down at the tablet once Miguel nods at your reply, not wanting to make him uncomfortable as you understand these sort of situations are not easy for him. Still, you think about it and what it could mean.

Miguel O’Hara, founder and leader of the Spider Society, has asked if you want to help with the reports from here on now. On top of that, he’s open to teaching selective members, you being one of the first two approved members, how the society’s network system works.

You can’t help but wonder if the events of this weekend have impacted the man sitting across from you more than you thought. That maybe, he found himself at a crossroads and he has chosen a different path. You imagine that coming face to face with death will do that to someone. You sigh silently as you begin editing the report, hoping.

Once you’re done, you show the completed report to Miguel, who looks pleased with your work. With Miguel’s approval, you send it to Jess for tomorrow’s meeting.

The two of you spend the rest of the day in the living room. You remember that you didn’t finish the film series the two of you started watching over the weekend, so you resume where you left off, taking walking breaks with Miguel since his body finds relief in stretching since he’s not used to sitting and laying down as much. This time when you start watching the third movie, the one that neither of you could understand until you realized it was the third installment, the two of you finally understand what’s happening.

By the end of the fourth movie, you look over at Miguel and find him sleeping. He’s laying on the couch with his head propped on pillows you retrieved from his bedroom earlier since you helped him lie down in the last walking break.

The fifth movie starts playing and you leave it on, not wanting to disturb Miguel’s sleep with sudden silence. You look at the tablet to check the time halfway through, realizing you should probably go and collect all the ingredients you’ll be needing for dinner since you’ll have to travel to your universe. You look over at Miguel again, who’s been asleep the entire time, and feel relief that he’s resting.

You recall what Jess said to Peter B. and you before Miguel woke up on Saturday. She mentioned there was a chance Miguel would try and wave the situation off like nothing. That he’d probably try to jump back to work right away. You were worried he was going to try, especially when he started talking about scheduled meetings and the unfinished report shortly after waking up on Saturday. Yet, Miguel hasn’t pushed himself to go back to work nor argued with you about resting or taking it easy.

Instead, Miguel has allowed himself to be taken care of. You know it hasn’t been easy and there have been times that his embarrassment was visible, like the first time you helped him eat or when you wiped his mouth clean. You remember the slight tint on his cheeks and the aversion of his gaze. No, this weekend wasn’t easy for Miguel at all for obvious reasons but also because of the amount of trust and vulnerability he had to show.

Yet, he wanted you to stay. You know that. In his in-and-out state of mind after he was resuscitated, he asked you to stay. You smile sadly now. It was only in that vulnerable moment that his mind wasn’t protected by his usual boundaries, that he was able to say that out loud. Not only did he want you to stay but he also trusted you with his care. So much happened this weekend but at least it wasn’t all bad. There was some good, too. You feel as though a lot was said even if it wasn’t said out loud. It feels like another step forward.

You continue to watch Miguel. The sight of him sleeping brings you comfort as he looks comfy and peaceful. Your gaze moves to his chest for a few seconds, watching the movement intently. His chest rises and falls evenly; a sign that he’s alive and well. It feels as though you’ve spent the majority of the weekend doing this; making sure he’s there and that this isn’t some dream you’ve thrown yourself into to escape the bitter reality that you’ve lost someone once again but thankfully, this isn’t a dream.

Still, your mind leads you to two brief thoughts. The first is about how you watched Miguel die and how that makes him the second close person in your life that you’ve seen pass away. Except the two situations you’ve witnessed ended differently with one of them making it. That leads to your second thought on how Peter’s death anniversary was only a few days ago and if something had happened with Miguel – it would’ve been just days apart.

The thought alone fills you with a heavy feeling. You’ve known you care about Miguel for a long time now, so it’s not a surprise but as you sit there and reflect, you realize just how much you care about him. It suddenly hits you all at once and you don’t even want to think where you would be right now. You’re just now fully moving forward and if things had turned out differently with Miguel – you know you would’ve been thrown right back to square one.

But you’re not in that scenario. You’re here and Miguel’s alive, sleeping across from you safely with that same peaceful and boyish look on his face that makes you smile but also wonder if this is the first time Miguel has slept this much consecutively in a while. Even when you were first recruited into the Spider Society, it wasn’t hard to pick up on the founder’s habits, especially when other members talked about it. You learned quickly that he worked day and night, which meant he probably didn’t sleep much.

And so, you can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since Miguel has rested like this. You don’t know but with his sudden acceptance to let people help him more at HQ, you hope he’ll also start to sleep better.

With one last glance, you head to the kitchen. You check what Miguel has already and then make a quick trip to your universe to gather other items, including more clothes for yourself, before you return to Miguel’s penthouse. You check on him once you return, finding Miguel still sleeping before you head back to the kitchen and start working on dinner.

You check on Miguel regularly as you work on dinner, making sure he’s alright. All throughout, he sleeps peacefully and it’s not until your third or fourth round that you find him waking up. He yawns softly before he looks up at you.

“I’m sorry. It seems I fell asleep at some point,” he apologizes, pulling the blanket down softly.

“Don’t worry. It’s good that you’re resting,” you answer walking closer to him. “I’m almost done with dinner in case you’re hungry.”

He nods. “I can smell it. It smells – amazing,” he says softly, meaning it. “Thank you again. I really appreciate it,” he adds quietly, and you nod.

“Always.” You clear your throat quietly. “Do you want to get up and stretch?”

Miguel nods. “Yes, please. And I did say I’d give you advice and conversation – maybe I’m not too late.”

You chuckle as you pull the blanket from him, placing it to the side before you help him up. He winces slightly as most of his pain is now focused on the trident wound. You’re careful with him as you lead him to the kitchen and help him take a seat. You make sure he’s comfortable before you walk to the stove to check on the food.

Miguel settles on the chair, the pain subsiding slowly. He silently hopes that by tomorrow it’ll be better so he can start moving his arms more. He looks around the kitchen, the scent of the food filling his nostrils even more now that he’s at the heart of the cooking. He spots sour cream, fresh cheese, green salsa, and cut cabbage, which looks prepared with lime juice. It seems that you have all the toppings for the flautas ready.

You carefully make more flautas by rolling tortillas with the filling and putting toothpicks through them so they’ll hold while they cook in the pan with hot oil. Miguel’s eyes land on you as you add the first batch.

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s still waking up or if it’s something else but he can’t help but think how the penthouse feels different right now. It’s as if you’ve brought a warmness to his penthouse. A homey feeling that makes this place feel less lonely, cold, and empty.

You turn around and walk to his fridge to retrieve a pitcher before grabbing ice on a scoop from the freezer. You place both things in front of Miguel and grab two glasses, making Miguel notice that you’ve found your way around his kitchen perfectly.

“I made some agua de jamaica. Would you like some?” you offer.

“Agua de jamaica…? Yes, please. Thank you,” he says with a bit of surprise. “I haven’t had any in – God, I don’t know. Years, I think,” he admits as he watches you pour some for him after adding ice. Once done, you carefully slide the glass to him across the counter.

Suddenly, the irony of this moment doesn’t elude either of you. Months ago, Miguel did the same for you at your apartment with a different drink under different circumstances. Miguel meets your eyes and all you can do is hold each other’s gazes as the two of you silently think of the same thing. At last, you smile softly, earning yourself a soft grin from Miguel.

“I’ll get you a straw, hold on. I think I saw some reusable ones somewhere,” you mutter as you turn around to search. Miguel is about to tell you where they’re located but you find them right away. You walk around the counter to him, sliding the straw into the glass before you grab it and hold it up for him to drink, making sure to hold the straw steady for him. He leans forward and tries it.

Miguel almost sighs at the wonderful taste. It’s not too bitter nor too sweet; it’s perfect. Miguel sips quietly, drinking half of the glass in one go as he’s taken back to the days when he used to drink this frequently. Seeing him almost finish the glass makes you happy, though you mask it to avoid making Miguel uncomfortable. At last, he releases the straw and leans back.

“It’s really good,” Miguel says quietly. “You just reminded me how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed an agua fresca, specifically this one. It’s one of my favorites,” Miguel shares. “Thank you.”

You put the glass down on the counter and nod with a small smile. “I’m glad you liked it. I don’t know why but I remembered I had some hibiscus leaves at home and I thought it would be perfect with the flautas.”

“Flautas and agua de Jamaica –” Miguel pauses, wanting to tell you that you’re spoiling him with such a meal. He looks down, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he debates telling you his thoughts. “You’re spoiling me,” he admits at last, quietly.

Your smile grows as you hear his words. “You haven’t tried the flautas yet. Maybe let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You might not even like them,” you say with a chuckle before you walk to the stove to flip them.

Miguel grins, watching you. “I doubt they’ll be anything but amazing. I mean… It smells great and you have salsa,” he says eyeing the green salsa, hoping it’s spicy.

“I think I made it too spicy but hopefully you like it,” you say as you continue to flip the first batch of flautas.

Miguel remains quiet but after a few seconds he responds with an amused tone. “I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it.”

You hum in response as you prepare a container to put the flautas in once they’re done cooking, before setting it aside. It catches Miguel’s eyes. He doesn’t even remember where it came from or where it was stored, which makes him realize just how acquainted you’ve become with his kitchen, much like he did with yours so many months ago. Miguel thinks about that day and how he fixed some of the things in your kitchen while you slept. For a few seconds, he wonders if they’re still working fine before his thoughts shift to another pending question for you.

He’s been searching for the perfect time to ask... What were you doing at HQ so late when you discovered something was wrong? He wonders if you needed something – maybe someone to talk to. Maybe you were sleepless and you thought of him. And of course, the one time you may have needed him, he wasn’t there for you because his insistence to go alone on solo night missions got him in trouble for once. He’s been wondering ever since Jess and Lyla mentioned you being the one that found out he was in trouble, and right now seems like a good time. The two of you are in a good mood and there’s no one else, so that means no interruptions.

“Y/N… May I ask you a question?” he asks.

You finish checking on the food and place the tongs away before turning around to face him. He has a very serious look on his face; one that worries you. You approach the counter and nod.

“Sure… What do you want to ask me?”

Miguel’s eyes meet yours. “What were you doing at HQ so late on Friday? Or, rather Saturday morning, I suppose,” he says quietly.

You hold his gaze for a few seconds before you look at the glasses on the counter. You suspected that at one point he was going to ask, you just didn’t expect him to ask so soon. You thought you’d have more time because hell, you haven’t had time to really think about it. You hoped you’d have more time so you could explain everything properly, especially after you told Jess what happened. Jess may have thought that she fooled you but you didn’t fail to notice that she wanted to say more on the matter. There was also the way she looked at you afterward. It made you feel as though what happened was something major and really strange.

Almost like nothing close to it has ever happened before and if it has, it’s rare. You can’t help but worry. If Jess held back and found the situation odd or as something shocking, then you wonder what Miguel’s reaction will be. You don’t want to alarm him, to make him feel like – You don’t even know how because you haven’t had time to properly think about it but now Miguel is asking, and he thinks you were at HQ for some other reason and that you just happened to discover something was wrong when in reality he was the reason you were there at all.

But – you won’t lie. So, you sigh quietly and grab your glass with agua de jamaica, taking a long drink before you set the glass back down. You check on the flautas over your shoulder; they look fine. You do this in the span of a few seconds, knowing that you can’t and shouldn’t prolong answering Miguel’s question or then, it’ll make it seem like you don’t want to tell him and he may find the events even more uncomfortable or weird. You look up at him, once again feeling the irony that you’re in his kitchen cooking and looking after him the way he did for you so long ago.

You offer Miguel a smile and shake your head at last.

“It wasn’t like that,” you say, meeting his gaze. Still smiling softly, you continue. “You want to know how we found you?”

Miguel nods, though he wants to correct you. There was no “we,” just you. You were the one that found him on the rooftop. The one that discovered something was wrong by going into his lab for some unknown reason.

“I’m just – curious,” he replies, and you nod.

“Yeah, I understand. I’d like to know, too,” you say quietly and pause for a few seconds before you start. “It was three in the morning and I was at home sleeping.”

Miguel’s eyebrows furrow, confused, yet he doesn’t interrupt you. He notices the way you’re being careful with your words, as if you fear that the wrong word will set him off.

“Out of nowhere,” you pause. “I woke up. My spidey senses were going off and – I quickly got up to check my two-way radio.” You look away for a second at the counter. “I was certain it was something in my city, you know? But for once, my city was fine, and nothing came from the radio.” You look up at him again. “I suited up and I went out to check regardless because my senses kept going off. I looked around my city and there was… nothing. Everything was fine in my universe, at least. So, I decided to go to, you know, other universes like Hobie’s, Miles’s, Gwen’s… I did a quick check to figure out what was happening but each universe was fine. There was no emergency and yet,” you pause and shrug slightly. “My senses were still warning me. I traveled to multiple universes in the span of two minutes, I think, trying to figure out what was happening until I finally realized I should tell you because maybe it had something to do with the multiverse.”

You quickly check the flautas again, looking behind your shoulder. You don’t want to end up letting the food burn or worse, cause a fire in his home. You face Miguel again when you see the flautas look okay. Miguel continues to watch you, hanging onto every word you say. He notices that you find this hard to talk about and he slowly begins to understand why the more you share what happened.

“So, I went to HQ and um – I called for Lyla so that she could let you know that I was there but she didn’t respond like she normally does. I tried again and once I saw that she wasn’t responding I just – I felt that something wasn’t right. So, I decided to go into your lab and figured that I’d just apologize for intruding later but when I did – your lab was empty. The screens were red, and you – you were nowhere to be found.”

You look down at the counter and sigh silently. “And so – I reached out to Margo and you know – she never goes to bed at a reasonable time. She always goes to sleep so late and – anyway, I for once hoped that she didn’t listen to our encouragement on fixing her sleeping schedule. Thankfully she didn’t because she immediately showed up and started working on the system once I told her that it wasn’t working and that – oh yes, I was trying to reach you through your gizmo but it said you were offline.”

You look up at Miguel, who still hasn’t taken his eyes off you as he listens to your recollection of the night. He watches you with both guilt and ache because he can see that talking about it is hard for you. It’s obvious to Miguel with how you’re pausing and looking away from his eyes. Then, there’s the fact that despite everything, you still thought about apologizing for going into the lab if you had found him there, which just makes Miguel want to smile and tell you that you don’t need to ask or notify him anymore; that you haven’t had the need to do so in a really long time but he just hasn’t told you yet because of what it would mean and because he has a feeling that you’ll continue to do it regardless because you’re always so respectful.

But for now, he wants to stop you, so that you don’t have to continue thinking about that night, yet you carry on. “We realized something wasn’t right with your offline status, so while she started fixing the system… I actually came here to look for you,” you say quietly, holding his gaze. “I hoped you’d be here.”

Miguel holds your gaze, feeling like someone is squeezing his heart with your last statement. You were hoping he was here, safe.

You give him a sad smile.

“I checked every room and you weren’t here. I went back to HQ, knowing that something was definitely wrong. It was confirmed when Margo got Lyla back and she told us very briefly what happened, so – I headed to Earth-42 and soon, we had a whole search team looking through the city until we found you…” you trail off.

“You found me,” Miguel says. “I remember… It was just you before everyone else arrived.”

You hold his gaze and nod. Miguel’s mind is whirling with thoughts about everything you’ve said.

“Your spidey senses… They warned you about me,” Miguel states, not as a question but as a fact.

“I don’t know how that’s even possible,” you admit. “But the good thing is we found you and we brought you back home.”

Miguel nods but he still wants to correct you. It was you that found him. You alone. You somehow also knew what building to check, and he has a strong feeling that it’s related to the first mission you joined him in but that isn’t the most important part of this. It’s the fact that your spidey senses were tipped off across the multiverse - for him, who doesn’t even possess that ability. Yet, somehow across the vast multiverse, you sensed his situation.

As he continues to hold your gaze, Miguel remembers you were the last person he thought about before his consciousness first slipped. From that point on, he was in and out of it but suddenly you were there, kneeling by his side talking to him and shielding his face from the cold rain with your own mask; slipping your gizmo into his wrist to protect him from glitching. All because your spidey senses went off… For him.

He doesn’t understand how it’s impossible. He thinks about it, going through multiple explanations as he possibly can in the moment but one thought keeps popping up. It feels like it’s the only one that holds despite having no scientific evidence.

There’s a bond between the two of you.

A connection that’s strong enough to travel across the multiverse. It both worries and comforts Miguel. There’s that fear - that fear that he’ll lose you, too - and this only adds to it. How will he ever go on if that ever happens when such connection exists? And yet, there’s comfort from it, too. To know that even in your deep and peaceful sleep, away in your own universe, you sensed his danger because of this connection. And that very same bond allowed you to find him, to save him.

Miguel’s gaze softens. “Thank you,” he says quietly with a heavy tone, as if moved by your words, and he is. He has a lot to thank you for and wishes he could do and say more. He wishes he could find a way to show you how thankful he is for everything - for you.

Smiling, you nod slowly. “Always…” you quietly answer in Miguel’s kitchen, feeling glad that you’ve told him. It’s out now. You were worried Miguel would react negatively but instead he’s thanking you and there’s a look on his face - like he’s thinking of something else - like he knows something that you don’t. You want to ask but despite everything, you remain the same as always. You don’t push his boundaries.

Suddenly, you remember the food. “Oh, shoot,” you say and quickly walk to the stove, sighing in relief when you see the flautas are intact. “They’re good!” You quickly take them out, placing them on the container you prepared earlier. Miguel smiles at you as you do this.

You add a new batch to the pan before you walk back to the counter, feeling the need to change the conversation now so you pour yourself more agua de jamaica. You take a sip and nod.

“I forgot how good this is,” you say quietly, placing the glass down and looking up at Miguel, who has been unable to look away from you.

He’s determined to do this. He’s thought about it so many times now but suddenly he feels a stronger push to seek this journey. This journey that felt so unreachable even in his dreams because they were always plagued by nightmares but now - as he sits across from you with everything that’s happened this weekend in his mind - he feels as though he can reach over and graze that journey - that possibility - with his fingertips.

It’s there like it’s never been there before, and hell, Miguel is going to reach for it. He wants to. For his family. For you. For him.

“It’s so refreshing,” Miguel replies, feeling overwhelmed with everything going on in his mind but he still eyes his own glass, which you notice.

“You want more?”

Miguel nods and so you help him take another sip. You finish cooking the last batch of flautas and fix two plates. It doesn’t occur to you until you’re ready to help Miguel eat that flautas, much like empanadas, are finger food. So you find yourself helping him eat much like you did that day, holding a flauta from one end as he bites from the other one. You also forgot how messy flautas can be with all the toppings, so you find yourself cleaning his mouth more than you did with the empanadas.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot utensils can’t be used to eat this or how messy eating flautas can be sometimes,” you apologize quietly as you gently wipe the corner of his mouth but Miguel shakes his head slightly, trying not to move much.

“It’s alright. I didn’t think about it either when you suggested them. I guess we were both in need of a homemade meal. So much that we forgot to think ahead,” Miguel replies once you withdraw your hand, sounding amused. “It’s so worth it though. These are some of the best flautas I’ve ever had. Thank you again for this amazing meal.”

You put the napkin down and chuckle. “Always, and yes. I was a bit tired of cafeteria food. I was so relieved Jess and her husband sent us homemade food yesterday. I just missed it,” you answer. “And I thought it’d be better for you, too, as part of your recovery.”

You take a bite from one of your own flautas now, for once eating at the same time since Miguel asked. He hasn’t liked the fact that you’ve been eating after him, with your food growing cold. On top of that, this makes it feel more like you’re actually eating a meal together. You finish eating and take a quick sip of your drink before offering Miguel his own glass. He quietly accepts it and drinks as you hold the glass for him.

The two of you sit side by side on the island chairs, facing each other. Miguel is slightly slouched to accommodate you for his height, making it easier for you to bring the food to his mouth. As you do so, you can feel Miguel’s warmth radiating off him, especially on your legs, since they’re slightly pressed against his so you can reach him but it doesn’t seem to bother Miguel.

Once you’re both done eating, you clean up the kitchen to make sure it’s back to the way it was: spotless. The two of you talk quietly as you clean, and you have to decline Miguel’s help more than twice because he insists he should do something. You finish cleaning by wiping down the last counter, noticing the time on the stove’s clock when you look up. It’s still early but Miguel still needs a shower and his wounds to be checked on.

“Whenever you want, we can head upstairs so you can take a shower and I can look at your wounds.”

“We should probably do that now before it gets too late. I don’t want to keep you up and I’d like for you to finally rest on a proper bed, which reminds me, I’m sorry you had to sleep on that thing,” Miguel mutters, sounding upset.

“Don’t worry about it! It was actually comfortable,” you reply with a smile as you stand across from him.

“I don’t know how but you did look comfortable.”

You shrug. “It was comfortable, really. Don’t worry about it or about keeping me up but you - you should rest properly. Resting on the couch is not the same as resting on a bed and I bet you’ll feel far more comfortable in your own bed, especially after a shower,” you say.

Miguel’s head tilts to the right. “Alright, it does sound better than the hospital bed.”

You chuckle. “Well, whenever you’re ready”

Miguel tells you he’s ready and with that, you help him up the stairs and into his bathroom. Like the previous day, you fix the shower head so his wounds are not directly hit by the water and leave towels within reach for him. Thankfully, Miguel’s bathroom is large and spacious, and even has a built-in bench that’ll help you wash his upper body. You leave him to wash his lower body and head downstairs to quickly make some canelita. Since you remembered the day Miguel went to your apartment for the first time months ago, you thought about it, too, and now you feel like it’d be something nice to end the day with. Maybe it’ll even help Miguel relax before he goes to sleep. You put water and cinnamon sticks into a pot before you put it on the stove to boil. You head back upstairs and prepare everything you’ll need to take care of Miguel’s wounds. You also prepare his bed, thinking it’ll be so much more comfortable and spacious than the hospital’s with his king size bed.

You head back downstairs to check on the canelita, surprised to see it’s already boiling. You add more water to it before returning upstairs to check on Miguel. You know it’ll be a while before he’s ready since you asked him to take his time to avoid hurting himself accidentally. You walk to one of the windows to look out for a few minutes before you return downstairs to check on the canelita. You turn it off when you see it’s ready and get two mugs out before going back upstairs.

You enter Miguel’s bedroom just as he calls your name, ready for your help.

You help Miguel wash his torso like the day before using the built in bench to do so. You notice Miguel seems far more relaxed, especially because the two of you make conversation as you repeat the same process from yesterday. You start from his shoulders until you finally reach his lower abdomen with your careful and gentle touch all throughout. You wash his arms and then his back before you eventually start on his hair.

Miguel sits sideways on the bench with his head thrown back to give you easier access. Your fingers glide through his hair as you lather the shampoo into his scalp. His eyes are closed, not only because you asked him to avoid getting any shampoo in them but also because he’s once again overwhelmed by the pleasant sensation of your fingers. He thought it’d be easier today but he finds himself clutching the towel around his waist once again. Internally, he’s just glad that the two of you are conversing so he can focus on that and avoid embarrassing himself with any accidental noises escaping from him.

You finish by rinsing his hair out and drying the excess water with a towel, taking the chance to dry his neck and shoulders, too, since water made its way to those areas. You clean his face with lukewarm water and reusable cotton pads, telling him you’ll clean it again after he brushes his teeth.

As you do so, you can’t help yourself and once again, take in every detail of Miguel’s face. You're so lost in concentration that you don’t notice Miguel’s own eyes doing the same with your face; observing everything from the color of your eyes to your eyelashes to the bridge of your nose and lips. His gaze grazes every inch of your face. You smile a bit when you notice some stubble on Miguel, which he notes.

“What is it?” he asks softly.

“Just noticed you have some stubble.”

“Oh, yes. Maybe tomorrow I can move my arms more and take care of it,” he says as you glide the cotton pad over his cheek.

You nod. “I’m sure tomorrow you’ll be able to move more. Just try not to push it, okay? And if you still can’t reach your face, I can do it if you trust me,” you say quietly as you move to the other cheek, which makes Miguel smile faintly.

“After all your help, it would be silly not to trust you with a razor to my face.”

You chuckle. “I guess that’s fair. I can help you tomorrow then. Alright, done.” You back away slowly and put the cotton pads away. “Do you want sweatpants and a jacket to sleep in?”

“I think I can go without the jacket tonight,” Miguel answers, straightening up gently before meeting your gaze. “The place won’t be as cold as the infirmary room.”

“As long as you’re comfortable, it’s your choice. Let me get your clothes then.” You quickly collect the clothes for Miguel before returning to the bathroom with them. You place the sweatpants on the counter and hold on to his boxers to help him start dressing.

The two of you succeed again by sticking to the same method from yesterday and in minutes, Miguel is dressed, ready for you to take care of his wounds. The process takes about fifteen minutes while the two of you talk about how much better his wounds look. You also notice he doesn’t wince as much as he did the day before. You lean back when you’re done, giving Miguel, who is sitting at the edge of his bed, more space. You slide the office chair you brought from his office back, taking a look at the injuries from afar.

“Was that alright? Any discomfort?” you ask, as you put the supplies away.

“None at all,” Miguel answers. “Thank you.”

You nod. “Do you want anything else to eat or drink? While you were showering I made some canelita. Would you like some?”

Miguel looks at you with surprise. “Really? I… You’ve done so much already, you shouldn’t have,” Miguel says softly, looking away in embarrassment. He can’t help but think about the fact that you cooked twice today on top of helping him shower and move around, and yet you’re still going out of your way to make him even more comfortable.

“I remembered it earlier and thought it would be nice. It’s not a big deal, Miguel. You know it’s not hard to make, so don’t worry about it, okay?” you say gently, trying to reassure him. “Now, would you like some? I think it’d be nice to drink before bed.”

Miguel finally looks back at you with a soft sigh. He nods and smiles faintly. “I can’t say no to canelita, so yes, I’d love some, please. And thank you, again,” he says, still smiling faintly, which makes you smile in return.

“Great! I’ll go get you some then. I’ll be right back.”

With that, you head downstairs and get two mugs of canelita on top of a straw before you head back upstairs. You find Miguel still sitting at the edge of his bed when you enter the bedroom. He seems to be looking towards the window but at the sound of your footsteps, he turns to face you. You place your mug on the window ledge so you can cool Miguel’s by stirring the straw around gently as you stare out the window.

“I’m trying to cool it for you,” you say softly, still looking out. You can’t help but feel mesmerized by Nueva York’s beautiful sight at night. You’ve spent several days here but you’re truly taking it all in now that everything is much calmer regarding Miguel’s health.

“What are you thinking about?” Miguel asks, noticing the fascinated look on your face.

“The view.”

Miguel nods, still looking at you and recalls you talking about the view earlier. He looks out the window, too; trying to see what you see.

“You know… Sometimes, I get so wrapped up with what we do that I take this for granted,” you suddenly say as you turn to him, still trying to cool off the canelita for him.

Miguel meets your gaze, surprised.

“You know what I mean? I’ve the chance to see flying cars and use this amazing technology.” You motion to the gizmo on your wrist. “I’ve visited so many universes. Work with so many versions of us. It’s just really amazing we can do this. To have each other...” you trail off, thinking about all your friends, including Miguel. You can’t help but think about the possibility of none of this happening. It could’ve very easily never been possible and there would be no Spider Society. All of you would’ve gone on never knowing about the existence of the multiverse or of each other. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m suddenly thinking about this. It’s all just so incredible. And it’s all possible thanks to you,” you quietly add, smiling.

Miguel holds your gaze and gives you a soft smile. No one has ever thanked him for this, and it’s not like he’s expecting anyone to or even asking to be thanked. It feels nice but more importantly, your words make him pause. He’s been so busy that he’s never truly stopped and thought about how incredible it truly is. “It really is, isn’t it?” he asks quietly as he thinks about it more. He’s so used to the technology and always keeps himself busy, making it easy to forget and acknowledge how amazing it is. It just makes him realize how he, too, takes for granted many things in his universe.

Miguel begins to make the attempt to get up, making you place the cup on the ledge quickly. “Hold on, Miguel. I’ll help you,” you say as you stand by his side.

You help him up with ease but he winces slightly and pauses for a few seconds. His arm is around your waist as he lets the pain die down before he fully stands up, letting go of you slowly.

“I’m starting to feel less and less pain,” he says and you nod, stepping away a little to give him space. He towers over you as he finds his balance, finding it easier than earlier. He nods and starts walking on his own. His steps are more determined than they’ve been the entire weekend, which is wonderful to see. You give him space but remain ready to help if needed, knowing that this is a great sign for Miguel’s recovery. He reaches the window and stands partially in front of it, as if leaving space for you.

You walk closer and stand by him with plenty of space between the two of you. Miguel looks up at the sky, watching constellations. He can’t recall the last time he looked up at the night sky to see the stars, which fills Miguel with a sudden sadness. He composes himself and tries a different perspective, a less sadder one. He’s looking and appreciating it now and that’s what matters, right? He subtly looks down at you, noticing your gaze on the city before his eyes shift to the same view. He tries to see the place he grew up in through your eyes. He looks at the modern architecture, the flying cars, and the train to the moon, which he hasn’t been on since he was a teenager. He looks at it all with a new perspective - your perspective - and he’s filled with a sense of awe, realizing it is amazing.

After a few more seconds of silence, you offer him the canelita again.

“I should sit down again or you won’t be able to reach me,” Miguel says as he starts to move but you make him pause.

“I think I can lift myself for this,” you offer. “If you wish to stay like this, I can do it.”

“What if you get burned?”

“I won’t. I’m sure it has cooled off by now.”

Miguel looks down at you and then nods. “But be careful… Please.”

You nod and grab his mug but before you do anything else, you put some of the liquid on your palm using the straw to make sure the liquid is suitable to drink. Satisfied, you walk closer and shoot a web to the ceiling before you slowly lift yourself to an appropriate height.

“Just wanted to make sure it’s actually cooler now. Don’t want you burning your mouth through the straw,” you say as you hold the cup securely in your hand and bring it close to his mouth. With your finger, you keep the straw from moving as he leans closer to take a drink. You look out the window for a few seconds, as if giving Miguel privacy because of the close distance between the two of you now. A few seconds later, you face him again just as he steps back, nodding.

“Very soothing,” he says quietly, looking at you as a soft smile appears on his face. ��I’ll probably fall asleep very soon with this and the shower.”

“That was the plan,” you say with a chuckle. “You ought to rest. It’ll speed up the recovery.”

Miguel nods with that soft smile still on his face before the two of you continue to look at the city through his bedroom window, drinking canelita. Your gaze takes in everything about the city, and Miguel continues to look at it your way, realizing he’s taken this for granted even more than you, and that maybe he ought to stop and admire it more often.

Miguel smiles faintly at you about thirty minutes later. He’s on his bed now and you’re fixing the covers over his body. Your fingers brush past his bare skin as you do so, and you subtly but quickly step back once you’re done though Miguel doesn’t seem to mind.

“If you need anything, just let me know, okay?” you say, looking down at him with a soft smile.

Miguel nods, looking at the gizmo on his nightstand. It dawned on you moments after you told Miguel he ought to rest that you’d be in different rooms tonight, which means that if he needs anything, you won’t be able to hear him. After telling him, you suggested you could sleep on the floor but of course, Miguel immediately rejected that idea.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Y/N,” he quickly said with a stern tone followed by what you could only describe as a low growl.

So, that idea was instantly scrapped until Miguel remembered he had an extra gizmo in the penthouse. He keeps all of them at HQ under tight security for obvious reasons but he’s always kept an extra one here, just in case, which is now sitting on his nightstand and will help him communicate with you if he needs anything.

“I will, don’t worry. Thank you,” he says, still thinking about your suggestion. He wants to shake his head in disbelief at you. There’s no way in hell he would’ve allowed that. Ever.

“Alright. I’m off then. Good night,” you say softly before you quickly retrieve the mugs from the window’s ledge.

“Good night,” Miguel replies, eyes on you.

You’re about to exit the room when he softly calls your name. You pause and turn around. Light from outside illuminates parts of his room, which makes it easier for you to see him. His eyes meet yours with a relaxed and soft look on his face.

“I just wanted to tell you - thank you. For everything,” Miguel says in the darkness.

You smile softly, not failing to hear the way he emphasizes the last word. “Always, Miguel… Good night,” you whisper.

“Good night,” Miguel whispers back before you pull the door after you exit, leaving it ajar.

With your retreating steps, Miguel lays on the bed and stares at the ceiling now. He suddenly has a sensation wash over him. The one that lets you know that you'll remember every detail of a specific event or moment for years to come, no matter how much time goes by. Miguel has that sensation now. He’ll remember this entire weekend, this moment, for the rest of his life.

He hums faintly, looking up at the ceiling before he closes his eyes, ready to fall asleep. Yet, he can’t, even though he’s tired and willing. It feels like twenty minutes pass by and Miguel is still awake. He’s perfectly comfortable on the bed. He’s tired and sleepy but he cannot fall asleep. With his eyes still closed, he sighs and starts thinking about the previous nights and how easy it was to fall asleep even though the infirmary room wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world; the room was very cold and the bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his own is. His bedroom is definitely far more comfortable but… It’s missing something that the infirmary room had, or rather someone.

Miguel’s eyes snap open with that thought.

“Mierda,” Miguel whispers as he realizes.

You’re not in the room sleeping nearby, letting your breathing call him to sleep. He lays there for a few minutes as the realization sinks in. He didn’t realize how much the sound of your breathing while you slept helped him the last few nights. He sighs softly and closes his eyes, thinking about something. Maybe if he just…

He feels like an idiot for trying but he does it anyway and surprisingly, his brain has no difficulty. He recalls the sound of your breathing from the previous night by memory, perfectly.

And it seems to work for tonight because Miguel succeeds and falls asleep soon after.

★★★

Miguel moves around his kitchen with ease as he cooks. It’s Saturday, exactly one week since he woke up in the infirmary room. He can move his arms freely now and he’s been walking normally since Wednesday. His less serious injuries are fully healed while the trident wound has a day or two left before it's completely healed. Thankfully, Miguel feels better and more like himself, at least physically.

It’s strange. It’s late in the afternoon on a Saturday, and he’s home instead of at HQ. He went in this morning to work on something but now he’s back and he has plans to stay the rest of the day here. If it goes his way, of course.

Miguel pulls out a fresh lettuce from a delivery bag. He ordered groceries earlier to prepare dinner, finding it easier than going out to shop. He opens it and begins to pull some of the layers off before carefully washing the leaves. He cuts them into strips and when he’s done, he places it on a container, adding water to keep it fresh. He feels a little nervous but at the same time, he really wants to do it. It’s the least he can do after everything. He checks the meat he has on the stove, seeing that it’s halfway done. He stirs it before he leans back on the counter, looking around his penthouse as he thinks.

He finds it hard to believe that only a few days ago you were staying here. You stayed a total of two nights and you somehow made the place feel different. Now, Miguel can’t seem to find that feeling. He grew so used to hearing your footsteps and drawers opening in the kitchen in such a short amount of time. Your presence has made Miguel realize that he misses having someone around like when he and Gabriel lived here together. His young brother made the place feel homier, much the same way you did. It didn’t feel empty, cold, or foreign.

He sighs, thinking about how he needs to find a way to make this place better because he hates how he feels when he’s back.

He remembers the first evening without you here. The penthouse was quiet and empty. He stared out the windows of the living room for a few minutes. It felt wrong. He walked upstairs and that feeling remained. He stopped in front of the guest room, or rather Gabriel’s old room, knowing it was empty. Yet, he pushed the door open and stepped in. There was no sign of your stay and Miguel found himself thinking it was very like you to leave the room the way you found it, seeing as you’re always so organized and tidy. Yet, it bothered him because it made it feel like you hadn’t stayed at all. Like it had been some kind of dream.

He walked further into Gabriel’s old room, pushing his other feelings away. He doesn’t like to go in there much as it still pains him when he thinks of the days they used to live together before he moved out to the next floor. There are some belongings of Gabriel left though; some of his books on repairing. At the sight of them, Miguel picked one up before he sat down on the bed. He started flipping the pages, finding his brother’s messy writing on the margins with notes and measurements. It was then that his nose picked up on it. The only sign that you had been there at all was your scent.

Miguel ignored it as he continued to try and decipher Gabriel’s handwriting. He laid on the bed, resting his head on the pillows as he held the book up trying to figure out what a specific portion of text said. Suddenly, your scent was awakened by his movement, filling his nostrils and he found himself breathing deeply. He found comfort in it before he started to think he was being weird. He left the room pretty soon after, closing the door after himself and forgetting about it until later that night when he found himself in bed, once again unable to sleep.

He tried playing your breathing in his head. It helped the previous two nights perfectly but suddenly it wasn’t working. He was tired and willing to go to sleep unlike so many nights but yet he couldn’t reach it. He got up, ready to pace like always but ended up in Gabriel’s room instead. He stood before the bed for a while with a thought on his mind but he knew it was too much. Yet, he also knew it was two in the morning and nothing was working. So he did it, thinking it didn’t hurt to try. He pulled the covers and got in bed.

He laid there, eyes closed as your scent engulfed him like cloud formations, and the memory of your breathing playing in his head. He woke up the next day with Lyla peppering him with questions about why he was sleeping in Gabriel’s room and poking fun at him because she had to wake him up. He got in the shower, wondering. Was he in such a bad state that he needed to hear someone’s breathing and their scent to sleep?

He also questioned how he was going to sleep later on. It seemed that simply recalling the sound of your breathing wasn’t enough anymore. The only reason he had slept the previous night was because of your scent. So now, not only does he have to figure out how to make his home better but also find a solution to his sleeping problem. Your scent is still present in Gabriel’s room but he knows that within a few days, it’ll be gone. He’s been thinking about buying candles or something of the sort. Otherwise, he might find himself unable to sleep when he’s now trying.

Miguel shakes his head and remembers to check the meat. He stirs the food carefully, remembering how much you liked this dish on Christmas Eve, which is why he’s making it. He’s spent the rest of the week getting back to work, figuring out what was done and how it was done but he’s also been thinking about how to thank you properly. He thanked you that first night you stayed over and again the following day, and then once more on Wednesday morning. He had his movement back and there was no need for you to stay another night away from your universe. The two of you knew it. You had breakfast together one last time in his kitchen and then you were there, standing with your travel bag packed and ready to go and the sight of it made - Miguel stops. He doesn’t want to think of that moment because thinking about it includes admitting how he felt when he saw you with your travel bag in hand. He felt a wave of something rush over him. Sadness.

As soon as he realized what he was feeling, he felt appalled. He’s already on edge with admitting out loud that you’re his friend and suddenly he was feeling sadness that you were leaving and he wondered, if your departure alone made him feel like that - what would he feel if something ever happened to you?

Miguel knows he’s grown fond of you. He’s grown attached to you. Perhaps too much, considering your scent and the sound of your breathing are the only two things that have helped sleep so far.

“Definitely too much,” Miguel mutters to himself with a sigh.

He looks at the clock to check the time. He’ll be sending you a message soon to ask if he can drop by your place. He plans on inviting you for dinner and surprising you with burritos de tinga, as you seemed to really enjoy them on Christmas Eve but now he wonders if he should’ve asked you sooner. For all he knows, you may have plans with your other friends or on your own. He decides he can cook another day for you as a way to thank you, if that’s the case. He just wants to do this as a way to show you his gratitude, even when he knows nothing he ever does or says will ever fully be enough to show his appreciation and gratitude to you - for you.

He sends his message ten minutes later before he adds sliced onions to the meat. Your reply arrives about two minutes later, telling him you’re home and that he can drop by. He lets you know it'll take about ten minutes, the amount of time it’ll take to finish cooking. Once he’s done, he places the lid on the pan to keep it warm, expecting to be back soon.

He looks around briefly, making sure everything is ready before he opens a portal and travels to your dimension. In a matter of seconds, he steps out into your living room as small objects float in midair. His eyes take in the scene before him until they land on you.

You’re sitting in the middle of your living room’s floor, leaning over your console table with a paintbrush in your hand and multiple blank picture frames laid out on it. The living room is… an organized mess. You look up at him just as the floating objects fall back into place and smile. Miguel blinks, the sight branded to his mind.

“Please excuse the mess,” you say as you put down the paintbrush.

Miguel scans your face carefully, noticing paint on your cheek. He smiles back at you, finding the sight amusing before he looks around your apartment.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly.

Your walls are empty of decorations. Your console table is covered up to protect it from the paint. Your old rug is rolled up and propped against a wall next to another one still in its new wrapping. There’s a large unopened box with a picture of a bookcase and an extra couch wrapped in new protective material while your older one is partially covered.

You’re redecorating your apartment.

“I seem to have come at the wrong time,” Miguel says as he returns his gaze to you.

You shake your head and get up, stretching slightly. Your arm pops, and you wince quietly before you give him a smile. “Don’t worry, it’s never a bad time. I’m just - redecorating,” you say as you look around briefly before returning your gaze to him. “May I get you something to drink? Thankfully my kitchen area is functional,” you say with a chuckle as you walk towards him, motioning to him to take a seat on one of the two chairs on your kitchen island.

Miguel follows you, facing your kitchen now, which yes, appears to be spared from the redecorating. He watches as you walk into your kitchen and wash your hands carefully as he reaches the counter. He lays a hand on it just as his eyes flicker to the side where he finds an open laptop. He accidentally reads the multiple tabs you have open, all regarding storage units in your city. He quickly looks away, not wanting to invade your privacy.

“Thank you but I’m alright,” Miguel replies as his gaze finds you again.

You turn around and nod, leaning on your counter. “You sure?” you ask softly and stretch your shoulders again, feeling tension after painting pictures frames for a while since you decided to give them a new look instead of buying new ones.

Miguel nods with a little smile. “Yes, I’m sure. Thank you though. I’m actually here because well -” Miguel pauses and straightens up. “I wanted to thank you again for everything and I know, you’re going to say I already did,” Miguel says once he sees you about to interject. “I know but I still want to do something to show you my immense gratitude. I cooked dinner and I was wondering if you’d like to join me tonight,” Miguel says quietly.

You tilt your head slightly and smile at him. “That sounds wonderful, though you don’t need to do anything to show your gratitude, Miguel. You know why I did it,” you reply gently.

“I know,” Miguel says, fully knowing why. He swallows, not knowing what gives him the sudden push to say the next words. “Then… You know why I’m doing this.”

His words take you by surprise, making you take a few seconds to acknowledge them, which in other circumstances they wouldn’t have left you feeling startled. With anyone else you’d smile, acknowledge them, and move on; maybe even throw in some banter because the friendship is constantly acknowledged verbally but the words didn’t come from just anyone. Those words are not as easy to say for Miguel as they are for you. You also know this is the closest you’ll get to hearing Miguel admit out loud he considers you a friend, too, before he directly admits it one day. You finally nod and smile softly, trying to keep it casual because you know this isn’t easy for Miguel and the last thing you want to do is make it a big deal in front of him, even though it is.

“So, what did you cook?” you ask instead.

Miguel gives you a soft smile, feeling relieved that you took his words well. “Burritos de tinga. I’ve made agua de jamaica, too.”

“Tinga?” you ask carefully with excitement, remembering how amazing his cooking was back on Christmas Eve. He nods, noticing a bit of a glimmer in your eyes. You chuckle and look around your apartment. It’s a mess. You nod. “I think I could use a break from looking at this mess. And burritos de tinga sound like the perfect way to forget about it for a little bit.”

With a chuckle, Miguel nods and opens a portal. “I finished cooking a few minutes ago, so it’s just a matter of heating the tortillas.”

Miguel tilts his head towards the portal, as if motioning to it. With a nod, you step out of your kitchen area just as Miguel moves aside to let you in first. The two of you find yourselves back in Miguel’s penthouse in seconds. You sigh in relief as you’re met with organization and tidiness, stepping aside in Miguel’s living room to let him lead the way.

Miguel steps out, motioning for you to follow him to his kitchen and dining area. You look around a bit, feeling strange to be back so soon already but quickly put it aside as the lovely scent of food fills your nostrils. Your stomach growls in response, making Miguel look behind his shoulder with an amused look in his eyes. You don’t even try to hide it.

“I was very close to ordering takeout,” you say as you reach the chairs.

“It's a good thing I messaged you at that time then,” Miguel says as he walks around the kitchen island to the fridge to take out the tortillas. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll start heating the tortillas.”

You nod and sit on the second chair, leaving the one at the edge for him. You sigh softly and relax into the chair, just now realizing how exhausted you are even as a spider person. “Yes, it’s a good thing. This is a million times better than whatever I was going to get,” you say and chuckle as Miguel turns on the stove and puts a pan to heat the tortillas. He chuckles as he heads back to the fridge to retrieve a pitcher, the same one you used a few days ago.

He grabs two glasses and ice and pours you some agua de jamaica, sliding it across the counter for you. “How long have you been working on it?” he asks as his eyes find the spot of paint on your cheek again. He doesn’t say anything about it and pours himself a drink, amused.

You drink the contents of the glass, suddenly realizing how thirsty you are. You lift a finger, motioning to Miguel to give you a second as you drink more before finally setting the glass down. Miguel eyes it and motions to the pitcher as he takes a drink, too. You nod.

“Yes, please,” you reply before he pours you more. “I started on Thursday morning with breaks in between and decided to try and finish it today, so I woke up extra early. I’m kind of hoping to finish it tonight but I don’t know if that’s going to happen.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow and nods. “You must be exhausted.” He also can’t help but wonder how you got the new couch into your apartment, considering you’re several floors up.

“A little bit. I think I’ll feel good to go once I eat something. Thank you by the way,” you say softly, smiling. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it.”

Miguel nods with a soft smile before he turns around to check the pan. His hand hovers over the pan to feel the heat, and feeling satisfied with it, he places the first two tortillas.

You look down at your refilled glass and drink some more before you lean back on the seat, feeling your back relax after being hunched over your table for who knows how long. You’re trying really hard not to think about Miguel’s indirect way of saying you’re his friend, so you decide to think of something else, like your apartment and the current mess it’s in. You wonder if you should keep going once you return home or if you should leave it for tomorrow but the idea of leaving the living room a mess another night bothers you.

The place is a mess but you need to do it. You’ve put it off for four years now, keeping the apartment the same way it was while Peter was alive to cope with the fact that everything and everyone was moving forward while you were stuck in time; refusing to believe everything was over in the blink of an eye. Outside your apartment, people lived their lives. Flowers bloomed and died. Hot and humid days turned into cold and rainy ones with the promise of snow. Everything was moving forward and your apartment was the only place where you could pretend, even for just a few hours, that everything was the same.

You could pretend that Peter would come in through the door any minute from a quick run to the grocery store or from work. Or maybe he came back from collecting the mail, holding another package with new Spider-Woman merch to add to his collection even though you told him repeatedly he didn’t have to buy anything to show his support. He always did anyway and you could never get on to him. How could you? All he wanted to do was support you like he always did and of course, it was always a sight to see him wearing Spider-Woman merch. You smile sadly at your glass, and sigh silently.

So, you kept the apartment the same. You cleaned and tidied up the place regularly but things remained the same. You had the same furniture and kept it in the same place as if nothing had ever happened. You were okay with that, as it was one of your coping mechanisms until last Friday when you looked around, realizing that your apartment has remained untouched by time.

But, everything and everyone has moved forward, and so have you.

It hit you suddenly on Thursday, the first morning you woke up back at your place. You spent almost a whole week away but you didn’t think much of it. You woke up, brushed your teeth, and made your bed after leaving it unmade in the early hours of Saturday when your spidey senses were going off. You never imagined that you wouldn’t come back to it until days later.

You finished making your bed before heading out of the room to get some breakfast but ended up pausing at the doorway, suddenly struck by everything. You were away for so long that the apartment smelled the way a place often does when you spend time away. You slowly walked to the middle of your living room and stood there, looking at everything as if you had stepped into someone else’s home and in a way, you had.

You stepped into the home of another version of you. A version of you that doesn’t exist anymore. You turned around and looked, finding remnants of a woman’s life that no longer exists.

You stared at your wall with photographs for minutes as it laid out the reality for you. You were staring at pictures with people - once friends - that you now know nothing about. In fact, it reminded you of the time that you saved one of your old friends and their child when they were almost struck by a car. You remember being shocked to see your friend holding on to what appeared to be a two year old. You were so surprised you were only able to nod in response as they thanked you profusely before you swung away.

Your memory only fueled your realization that the people on those photos were - are - different people now, and so are you. You looked around your space again, realizing the apartment was no longer an accurate representation of who you are or where you’re at in life - so you started the process. You took down the picture frames and removed the photos from a different life long gone with Peter, leaving you with empty picture frames to fill with photos of this new life. As you did that, you saw the rest of the apartment for the first time through a different perspective. You saw the beat up rug, the way that the bookcase’s shelves are dented in the middle from so many years of holding books, and your couch that has seen better days among other things that highlighted the truth.

As the morning sun streamed into your apartment, you saw a new vision for the space that you love and hold dear to your heart. Yes, it could use some improvement and the kitchen is especially a testament to that, as it has had some things here and there in the past, some of which Miguel fixed the first time he was there. You could move somewhere else, having the means to do so but you love it. You’ve loved it from the first moment you laid eyes on it when there was an opening to rent. You knew it was going to be the perfect place to start out before you and Peter eventually moved out, especially with early talks about a family one day but that isn’t in the works now. That’s in the past. Those were the plans of a woman who shared them with her partner.

Now, you need new plans, even if they don’t fully include Peter. Not in the way you wish, at least. You’re not moving out and don’t plan to even though you’ve been in the same apartment for over five years and it could use some improvement; even when you don’t recognize your neighbors since the previous ones are long gone.

No, you’re staying and changing your space to honor your current self, starting with the living room before you move to other areas of the apartment, slowly but surely.

You look up at Miguel just as he slides a plate with burritos to you, your thinking face not going unnoticed by him but he doesn’t ask. He guesses it’s related to the current state of your apartment. You offer him a smile, letting go of your thoughts and focusing on this moment.

“Thank you,” you say and he nods before he walks around and sits next to you.

He offers you the toppings and refills your glass from which you’ve been drinking from this whole time, making it your third glass. You thank him again and add the toppings to your plate.

The two of you start eating in silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company. Miguel is internally happy to see you enjoy the dish once again, as he notices your looks of delight with each bite. The more you eat and relax, the more you start thinking maybe you ought to stop for today and continue tomorrow.

Miguel cleans his mouth gently and finally breaks the silence as you take a drink from your glass.

“Would you like more?” he asks and you immediately shake your head.

“Thank you but no, my hunger has been satisfied. And so has my thirst,” you joke as you motion to your glass, already halfway empty. “Thank you. This is amazing, truly.”

Miguel nods and takes a drink from his own glass, with a soft smile on his face. He’s glad his dinner plan lined up perfectly with today so you could have a good dinner after a long day of redecorating. He places the glass down, suddenly remembering the multiple tabs on your laptop with storage unit searches and your old couch that’s currently partially covered, leading Miguel to piece together that you’re storing it. He thinks of his own furniture, or rather furniture that belonged to Gabriel and his mom, which is all stored away in the next two floors.

“I’m happy that you enjoyed it,” Miguel says nodding to you. “It’s a good thing I planned it for today. A good homemade meal is always great after a long day like yours.”

You grin and nod. “Yes, it is. Except dinner wasn’t only ‘good.’ It was amazing.”

Miguel chuckles quietly and leans back on his chair, making his towering height over you even while sitting, more apparent. “Thank you. I’m really glad you think so,” he answers, looking down at you. His eyes very briefly pass over the paint on your cheek again before his gaze meets yours, still thinking about the furniture and the searches on your laptop. “So, you got a new couch.”

“I did… I think it’s time,” you answer quietly with a small smile, turning your gaze to your glass. You hold it in your hand, twisting it carefully as thoughts of your apartment return. You look up at him again. “I’ve had the same couch - since Peter and I moved in,” you add softly.

Miguel nods, silently realizing how long you’ve had the couch then. He knows it’s been four years now since Peter’s death since you mentioned it the day of, on top of the years you’ve had it since you bought it. That means the couch has been in your possession for over four years. Yet, it looks like you’re still going to store it anyway. As if reading his thoughts, you tell him about it.

“Peter and I bought it when we first moved in together. A lot of the furniture was bought then, actually. We were fresh out of college and kind of broke,” you say and laugh quietly. “But we really wanted to move in together and we planned financially for months until we found that apartment. It was perfect for us to start out.” You shake your head slightly, recalling those days. “Anyway, we furnished the place and it’s been the same since. I refused to change it after his death… I just couldn’t,” you whisper, looking back at your glass.

Miguel closes his hand into a fist, fighting the urge to reach out and comfort you physically. The comment about your apartment being the perfect place to start out for you and Peter makes him remember something. He’s taken back to the first day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. As he was fixing a loose cabinet, he wondered why you lived there when it looked like you had a bad landlord. He remembers thinking you deserve to live somewhere nicer, which is why he asked if you were struggling with money when you mentioned the rent is good.

He wondered to himself if that was the case as it is for many spider members who find it difficult to keep an everyday job with the duties of a superhero, which is why there’s a program within the Spider Society to help those members out. He instantly regretted asking though, when he saw the way you froze in place after that; your eyes teared up as you glanced at the photo of Peter and you had this faraway look on your face until you said that it didn’t matter as you were out a lot anyway. That was his cue to drop the subject. He knew from that point on that the apartment was important to you but he didn’t realize just how much.

You clear your throat and smile up at him, oblivious to Miguel’s thoughts and his clenched fist.

“But - after spending some days away, I went back and it just hit me that I need a change, you know? It’s lovely and it’s served its time but it doesn’t represent me fully anymore, my apartment, I mean. So, I decided to redecorate and that includes a new couch but…” you trail off, thinking about your old couch. It’s not in the best condition anymore but you still can’t find it in yourself to throw it out like nothing. “I don’t want to throw out my old one. Peter and I spent a lot of our evenings there and - I don’t know. I know it’s stupid-” you start but Miguel interrupts you.

“It’s not stupid,” he says in a serious but reassuring tone as he turns his body more to you, leading to your legs brushing each other’s now. “It’s perfectly normal. I have stored furniture, too,” Miguel shares, wanting to comfort you at least this way. You look up at him then, surprised but at the same time comforted by his words, so he decides to add more. “Gabriel used to live here. The other room was actually his. We lived together for a while until he decided to get his own space. He did a lot of repairs on tech pieces and didn’t want to clutter here,” Miguel says looking around before he looks back at you. “So, he bought the next floor and moved out. After some things happened - my mom also moved to this building. She bought the next floor when it became available, wanting to live closer to us. They didn’t live in their own apartments for long though,” Miguel pauses, thinking about how his mom passed away a year later after she moved in. Gabriel followed suit a little while after her. “I inherited their possessions and - their apartments are still like they left them, for the most part,” Miguel whispers. “I know it’s not easy to let go of items.”

He can’t help but think about Gabriella and his wife. If he could’ve kept their belongings, he would’ve. The only thing he has left is Gabriella’s acoustic guitar that he brought to Nueva York a few days before their universe collapsed. He was going to tune it for Gabi but he never got to it. Now, it’s the only physical item he has left of her, so he keeps it safe downstairs in one of the bedrooms, only retrieving it when necessary like on Dia de los Muertos to offer it to Gabi.

You nod softly, feeling comforted by his words and also touched that he has shared yet something else with you. You lay your hands on your lap. “Thank you, that really - that really makes me feel better,” you reply quietly, giving him a relieved smile. “I appreciate it.”

Miguel nods, at last relaxing his fist as he sees your smile. “Always,” he answers quietly before he remembers the searches on your laptop again. His eyebrows furrow a bit. “I didn’t mean to intrude but I saw the searches on your laptop when you offered me something to drink. You’re putting it in a storage unit?”

You nod. “Yes.” You sigh deeply, remembering your search. Your sigh sounds tired to Miguel. He’s been unable to stop thinking about it and he realizes now it’s because he’s been worrying about your belongings. “I’ve been looking for storage units but they all have mixed reviews. I’m going to visit each place and see which one is better this upcoming week to compare.”

Miguel nods. “Yeah, that sounds like the best idea to avoid any damage to your belongings.”

You nod before you take another drink of agua de jamaica.

Miguel looks down at his own glass, thinking. “You know…” he starts, making you turn to him slightly. He looks at the remnants of his drink. The ice has melted quite a lot, diluting the agua de jamaica into a light maroon color now. “No one goes downstairs but me. I clean both floors twice a month to make sure they remain clean. If you want…” he says and turns to you. “If you want, you can store your furniture there. It’d be safer.”

You start shaking your head as soon as he’s done talking. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you but I can’t possibly accept that,” you decline politely.

Miguel’s eyebrows furrow slightly. “You’d have access to it at all times. You don’t have to let me know if you decide to come in and check on it. It’ll be safe here, probably more so than in most storage units,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

You shake your head. “That’s too much, Miguel. It’ll be cluttering your space. Thank you but no. I appreciate the thought, though.”

Miguel shrugs, still looking down at you. “No one lives there. I hardly go down there except to clean. It won’t be an inconvenience to anyone. Seriously,” Miguel says. “Just think about it. All the furniture downstairs has been stored for years and it’s intact. I’d hate for something to happen to your belongings,” he says softly, genuinely concerned when he can tell how much the couch alone means to you.

You sigh softly, thinking about it and Miguel wonders why you’re being so stubborn about this. It’s a simple offer.

“Are you worried something is going to happen to them here?” he asks you.

“No, of course not. I’m pretty sure they’d probably be safer here than in most storage units but -” you pause. “I don’t know.”

Miguel shakes his head in amusement. “I won’t let anything happen to your furniture and you can come in any time you want. I’ll show you how to access the floor and everything. Really, it’s not an inconvenience, Y/N.”

You sigh again thinking for a few seconds until you nod slowly. “Are you sure, though?” you ask, making Miguel tilt his head to the side with a soft grin.

“I’m sure. C’mon, I’ll show you the space so you can see it’s clean,” he says standing up. “I’ll clear this up later, don’t worry about it,” he says when he notices you pick up your plate, taking it from your hand gently and putting it back on the counter.

He motions for you to follow him, walking the opposite way of the living room. You follow him, thinking about how you haven’t seen the entrance to his penthouse, or a laundry room for that matter now that you think about it. Miguel comes close to the wall and he opens a door that you hadn’t even noticed before with ease. He turns around to let you in first. “Sleek doors,” he says, noticing your confusion. “They’re meant to blend in with the walls to give the space a sleeker look.”

You nod and thank him as you step into a hallway that leads to another room. You spot three doors in the hallway, actually noticing them this time even though they’re sleek doors, too.

“Laundry room,” Miguel says, motioning to the first door on the right. “A bathroom for guests,” he says, pointing to the second door. “And another office,” he says for the single door on the left. You follow him down the hallway, stepping out into another living room, smaller than the other one but still larger than your own apartment. “A living room for guests, while the other one is for family and friends,” Miguel explains.

“It’s lovely,” you reply genuinely because even though this is supposed to be smaller and perhaps less personal, it’s still a very beautiful living room that leads to a grand entrance. You keep following Miguel as he leads you out of his penthouse, stepping out into his private entry before you enter an elevator and reach the next floor.

The two of you step out of the elevator with Miguel continuing to lead the way to the apartment’s front door. He reaches out and presses his finger to a screen on the wall, which scans his entire hand before the door unlocks. He opens it and lets you in first. You slowly walk down a hallway that opens up to the entire apartment, which is impressive and luxurious. You see furniture, or rather the shapes of it, as everything is covered just like Miguel said. Blinds cover the windows completely, keeping the sunlight out. Everything looks organized and clean, even the picture frames on the wall, which your eyes very briefly scan, noticing Miguel is in some of them with Gabriel. You look away out of respect and focus on the apartment itself.

Miguel stands behind you, giving you time to look around before he does the same. His eyes land on the photos on the wall. He thought about taking them down but never got to it and he eventually thought about how Gabriel wouldn’t like it either, especially when Miguel still has the apartment in his possession. So, he just left them up. You turn around to face him and nod.

“The blinds keep the sunlight out and the temperature is right to avoid any damage. Everything has a protective sheet, as you can see,” Miguel says, looking away from the photos. “No one else comes here except for me.”

You nod again. This is much better than any of the photos you saw from actual storage units, of course. You look around again ready to ask about the payment, noticing that Miguel is looking at another photo.

“What do you think?” he asks gently. “I think it’s better than a storage unit and you don’t have to worry about paying,” he says, giving you a glance. “I know you were just about to ask.”

You smile and laugh.”You can read minds, too?”

“I saw it on your face,” Miguel answers with a shrug, smiling softly before he turns his attention back to the photo. It’s of Gabriel and him. In fact, a majority of the photos in the apartment are of them. A few have their mother, too, though there’s no sign of the father.

You stand a few feet away from Miguel in silence, not wanting to intrude. He seems lost in thought with his unwavering gaze on the photo, and how could he not when Gabriel has been on his mind all week. Miguel’s loved ones are always present in his mind but that’s especially true after what happened a week ago.

“He was better than me with the decoration,” Miguel mutters, still looking at the photo. “He and my mom got on to me about it. They were the ones that decorated the penthouse after I went a few months without doing anything to it. Gabriel on the other hand… He had all these photos hung up three days after moving in.”

You nod, though Miguel isn’t facing you. You look at the photo from where you are, noticing that the O’Hara brothers look to be in their teens and even then, Miguel towered over Gabriel.

Miguel shakes his head softly. He feels like a lot has changed since the last time he was here and it wasn’t that long ago. Now, he’s here again with you, and that makes you the first person that’s visited this apartment in years besides himself. If Gabriel is really out there, with the rest of his family, he wonders what they think of this fact and of you. He suddenly remembers his dream and how they kept telling him you were calling him. He recalls the way they seemed delighted about it, and he takes that as a sign that if they’re out there - or here, who knows - they must be happy about this, too.

Miguel sighs softly and turns around to face you at last with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about - my family,” he says, wondering when he’ll tell you about his dream because it’s no longer about whether or not he will. Not anymore.

“Don’t apologize. I understand,” you answer, smiling.

“You know - they would’ve really liked you,” he quietly says, which catches you by surprise.

“I - Thank you. I wish I could’ve met them,” you reply, and he nods, wishing, too.

“Me, too,” he answers in a hushed tone. He clears his throat softly. “So… What do you think?” he says motioning to the apartment.

“Yes,” you say, nodding, feeling a bit embarrassed to accept his offer. “If it’s not too much… I’d really appreciate it.”

Miguel nods. “It’s not an inconvenience. Believe me. Do you want to bring it right now? I can help you, if you want,” he offers, even though he knows you might want to do it on your own.

“You’re already doing me a big favor… I don’t want to bother you with one more thing.”

“You wouldn’t be bothering me, Y/N. It’s not an inconvenience. Please…”

Please let me help you, Miguel wants to say but the words don’t come out, so instead he holds your gaze and hopes you can see it in his eyes; that he wishes to help you, if only you let him.

You nod slowly, eyes softening at the sight. “Alright… Thank you. I guess I could use some help, since I’m moving it across the multiverse.”

Miguel nods, amused but glad that you’ve accepted his help. “I’ve never transported furniture through the multiverse, so this will be a first for the two of us.”

You laugh, even though you feel like you’re overstepping by bringing your couch here but in the end, Miguel and you successfully move your couch from your universe to his. As soon as you step back into Nueva York, Miguel carries it on his own like it weighs nothing. He places it near a wall once you tell him he can put it anywhere after he asks if you have a preference. He retrieves a protective sheet before turning around to face you.

“Thank you so much,” you say genuinely, feeling bittersweet to see your couch in another space. You smile fondly at it, forgetting for a second that Miguel is in the room with you, and of course, he notices the look on your face.

“I’ll wait outside,” he says quietly but you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. It’s - It’s just a couch,” you say softly but you know it’s not true. It was once the couch that completed an old vision for your apartment. One that included Peter. It was the couch you spent your evenings on, reading your books before he asked you to dance with him to his favorite songs. It was also the couch on which you sat with Peter’s head on your lap as your fingers played with his hair after a long day from work to ease his stress.

Miguel walks to you and offers the protective sheet, knowing you must do it. He walks around you and stands a few feet away to give you space. You walk over to your couch, letting the protective sheet unfold. You don’t give your couch a “goodbye” but rather a silent “bye” as you know it’s not the last time you’ll see it. You smile fondly at it before you drape the protective sheet over it, covering it fully. You step back, letting your eyes trace the familiar outline of it and sigh. It’s time. One more step forward. You feel a tear roll down your face and wipe it away discreetly, thinking about how Peter would be proud of you for taking this step. You smile at the thought of him, sweet Peter. You nod softly and turn around to face Miguel, still smiling.

Even from afar, he can see the trace of a tear on your cheek, softening his expression. He’s relieved you’re not crying because he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle seeing you in such a vulnerable state. The thought alone… devastates him.

Yet, you smile at him and nod. “Thank you,” you say softly, almost a whisper. “I really appreciate it.”

Miguel nods back. “Always,” he replies in the same tone, smiling softly.

The two of you head out of the apartment shortly after, stopping outside the front door so Miguel can add your fingerprint to the system. The process takes only a couple of seconds before you head back to his penthouse where Miguel offers you a coffee as a way to comfort you. You accept, still thinking about your couch while Miguel prepares a special kind of coffee. Café de olla. The two of you sit side by side once it’s ready, drinking it slowly and enjoying the rich scent and flavor. You smile up at him.

“Thank you for the great coffee. And for dinner, on top of letting me store my couch here,” you say, just thanking him over and over again, making Miguel chuckle quietly.

He looks down at you, remembering the paint on your face. He gets up without saying anything and retrieves a towel to run under warm water before he returns to you. You watch him with curiosity, wondering what he’s doing. He takes a seat and turns to you.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, holding the towel. “You have some - paint here,” he says as he slowly lifts the towel to your face, as if unsure of what he's about to do but he ends up going for it. He gently cleans the paint off your face and you chuckle quietly.

“All this time and you didn’t tell me?” you ask, feigning disbelief.

Miguel withdraws the towel once the paint is gone. “It wasn’t that noticeable, don’t worry.”

You shake your head at him, smiling. “I don’t believe that but I’ll let it slide because of this amazing coffee.”

Miguel puts the towel down on the counter, amused. He looks at the time and realizes how much later it is. It seems that each time the two of you are together, time flies by. He takes a sip of the coffee, thinking.

“Are you still going to work on your apartment or are you calling it a day?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know if you’re going to keep working.

You shrug. “I feel kind of tired - but I think I may work on less strenuous things.”

“Like what?” Miguel asks curiously.

“I have some new art to hang up and I’m going to choose new photos.”

Miguel nods, making him look around his own place. It’s been the same for years. He’s about to tell you that when Lyla appears.

“Hello, you two! Smile!” she says, catching the two of you by surprise.

You look over at Lyla as she displays a photo of you and Miguel, just taken.

“Lyla,” Miguel says.

“What? I’m just taking a picture to add to my file.”

That makes you and Miguel raise your eyebrows.

“File?” you ask.

“Oh - Uh, did I say file? I’m so tired from work I misspoke,” Lyla says shrugging and laughing nervously.

“You said file,” Miguel says, narrowing his eyes as he has no knowledge of this file.

“Okay, so I may have some photos of you guys and like - of the rest of the members.”

“What kind of photos?” Miguel asks.

“Normal photos, Miguel. I’m not a creep.”

“May we see them?” you ask.

Lyla crosses her arms over her chest, thinking. “Fine, since you asked so nicely and you’re one of my top five favorite spider members. I’ll do a slideshow for you,” Lyla says with a grin before she does exactly that.

The two of you watch as Lyla starts displaying different photos specifically of you and Miguel with Lyla making appearances sometimes. Some appear to have been taken on rooftops in other universes from when you and Miguel go off to the tallest buildings. Other photos show the two of you talking before meetings with your coffee cups making appearances, too. There’s one from Christmas Eve with the two of you leaning over the windows watching the holographic Christmas light show and another one of Miguel showing you how to design an ornament. The last photos of the slideshow are from the last few days at the infirmary room, which includes a picture of the moment Miguel made a face after he ate the horrible carrot. It makes Lyla giggle but she quickly shuts up when she sees Miguel glaring at her for a few seconds. He notices you covering your mouth as if stifling a laugh. He shakes his head in both amusement and disbelief.

“I can’t believe I ate that,” he says. “You didn’t believe me when I said it was going to be bad.”

“In my defense, I thought it’d be better since it’s Nueva York.”

Miguel scoffs playfully. “Yeah, well… It’s no wonder why the no outside food rule is disregarded, to be honest.”

You chuckle before the two of you return your attention to the slideshow. There’s a photo of the two of you watching one of the movies from last Saturday. Another one of the two of you sleeping which makes you and Miguel raise your eyebrows at Lyla. She shrugs.

“Accidental photo, my bad. At least I got good angles of you.”

Miguel rolls his eyes remembering how she called him a creep for watching you sleep but here she was, with a photo of the two of you sleeping.

Then, there are a few photos of when your friends showed up. The rest are from the two days you spent here, like you cooking and Miguel sleeping in the living room. At last, the final one is the one Lyla took just moments ago, though there are a few more that Lyla doesn’t display.

You nod slowly and turn to Miguel, who meets your eyes. You think about it for a few seconds, gaining the courage to ask him.

“May I have a copy of some of these?” Miguel raises an eyebrow and you quickly explain yourself. “Not the ones of you sleeping or us sleeping but you know - like the one from Christmas Eve or when everyone showed up? I’d love to add a few to my wall, if you don’t mind.”

Miguel nods, amused. “Yes, of course. Just tell Lyla which ones you want and I’ll get them for you. Let me put this stuff away while you tell her,” he says, motioning to the toppings from dinner.

You quickly tell Lyla which ones, which leads Miguel to go to his office. He comes back a minute later with a flash drive. He hands it to you. “They’re all there,” he says and you thank him as the two of you return to your seats to finish drinking your coffee.

“Wait… Are you guys drinking coffee? Miguel, you should probably not drink that considering you’ve been struggling to sleep the last two - three nights,” Lyla says, raising an eyebrow.

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow of your own. “You’ve been struggling to sleep?” you ask softly, your tone laced with worry.

Miguel wants to glare at Lyla, who shrugs but he finds himself unable to as he meets your gaze. “It’s alright. Sometimes it happens,” he says.

“It wasn’t happening lately until the last three nights,” Lyla adds, gaining herself Miguel’s gaze.

“Lyla,” Miguel warns her gently but with a hint of authority.

“I’m just saying - I don’t think Y/N would mind - if you just ask her,” Lyla says nonchalantly, somehow knowing the current solution to his sleep problems.

“Ask me what?” you ask Miguel curiously.

“It’s nothing, Y/N. Lyla appears to have a bug, probably from the system failure from last weekend,” he answers but you’re not convinced.

“If I can help you somehow… Please let me know,” you say but Miguel shakes his head.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I just - It happens sometimes,” Miguel says, trying to convince you it’s nothing so the conversation can be dropped. He’s not about to tell you the truth. He can’t. It’s too much.

“Miguel - it’s really not that big of a deal. Y/N probably wouldn’t min-” Lyla starts.

“Lyla, deactivate,” Miguel says evenly, making Lyla disappear instantly.

You sit there, holding your cup of coffee staring at nothing now. You turn slightly to Miguel, giving him a small but reassuring smile. You can tell he really doesn’t want to talk about it, so you bring the cup of coffee to your lips and drink quietly. Miguel sighs next to you, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry you had to see - and hear me - like that,” Miguel says quietly.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” you answer, putting your cup down on the counter but still holding it. “Lyla can really push buttons, sometimes.”

“More than sometimes,” Miguel grumbles but now he feels horrible for the way he reacted in front of you. It’s nothing compared to the ways he’s reacted in the past, he knows that but it bothers him that you’ve seen a different side of him now, or at least a glimpse. “I can’t talk about it.”

You nod slowly. “I understand. You don’t have to,” you answer without judgment, though you wish he’d tell you about it, especially if you can help him somehow.

Neither of you say anything for a minute or two. You continue to drink your coffee silently, trying to give Miguel some time to come back from this moment. Meanwhile, he’s internally fighting with himself. He’s embarrassed to tell you but now there’s also the need to explain it anyway, so you understand why he reacted the way he did towards Lyla. He sighs silently and runs a hand through his hair, wishing Lyla hadn’t said anything. At last, he picks up his own cup of coffee and drinks before he sighs again. He is trying, isn’t he? He said he will.

“I’ve avoided sleep since Gabriella’s…” Miguel starts, his voice almost a whisper.

You look up at him and start shaking your head slightly, wanting to tell him that he doesn’t have to explain anything; that he doesn’t have to give any explanations to anyone, not even you but Miguel shakes his head gently, knowing what you want to say. “I should… You said talking about it helps, right?” he asks softly. “On Christmas Eve, you said it helps to talk about it.”

You pause, remembering you said that many months ago while sitting on the same chair. You nod slowly but say nothing. Miguel nods back, meeting your eyes.

“I’ve avoided sleep since then because of - nightmares,” he continues. “It was easier to not sleep. To keep working. I’ve only been sleeping when my body is extremely exhausted. I take naps,” he reveals, breaking your heart with each word that leaves his lips because that means that he truly doesn’t sleep that much. Then there’s the nightmares part and you can only imagine what they involve if they started after what happened with Gabriella’s universe. You feel your hand itch to reach over and hold his. You want to comfort him for his lack of sleep, for the nightmares, for his vulnerability right now, and for the fact that it seems that he’s trying to sleep these days but hasn’t been able to. You feel incredibly sad as his revelation confirms your suspicions that this past week has been the first time Miguel has slept well in a long time, and it breaks you even more to know it was because of his injuries and not a good reason. You yearn to reach out and comfort him but you hold back, resting your hand on your thigh instead and keeping it there.

“I’ve been living like this since then and - I’ve tried to sleep this week. To recover. It was working but not anymore, even when I want to,” Miguel says so quietly, still holding your gaze.

You nod, wishing you could do something even if it’s just offering advice but you’ve never been in his shoes. You lost Peter but you didn’t have nightmares about it. You dreamt of him often after his death but they were always pleasant dreams, which have decreased over the years.

Miguel looks away before he continues. “Something has been helping me recently.”

You clear your throat softly. “What is it? We can get it so you can rest properly, Miguel,” you offer, noticing Miguel’s fist clenched softly.

“I don’t know how to say this.”

You sit still, not sure if you should encourage him or just remain quiet and give him time to speak. You want to respect his boundaries. You want to give him space. Yet, you also want him to sleep well, especially now that he’s admitted that he’s trying and no longer avoiding sleeping. It makes you wonder again if last weekend’s event has impacted him more than you thought.

“Your breathing,” Miguel mutters at last, almost making you miss it. You keep still, trying not to show your surprise once his words register. “The sound of your breathing when you sleep - and your scent. It’s been helping me sleep,” Miguel quietly admits at last with a tone that lets you know he’s ashamed of it.

You sit there for about a second or two, not thinking about it for too long because you don’t want your silence to be mistaken as a negative reaction, so you smile and look at him, searching his face. There’s a slight tint to his cheeks and he’s avoiding your gaze.

“Well, then… I’m sure with the gizmo Lyla can record my breathing when I sleep, right?” you ask gently. “Tonight, we can do a live feed and record it in the process,” you offer, making Miguel turn his head to you in surprise. Here you are, offering to have your sleep be recorded so he can use it and sleep himself.

“Y/N… No, that’s too much. I’m just trying to explain this mess Lyla made,” he says quietly.

“It’s not too much, Miguel. If it’s going to help you sleep, it’s not. I don’t mind,” you answer and give him a reassuring smile. “And my scent,” you pause, thinking. “Do you think a sweatshirt would help? I wear one to sleep all the time because I get cold during the night. I can give you one each week so it’s fresh. We can rotate,” you offer, thinking about it and nodding to yourself as this seems the best course of action. “I’ll bring you the one I’ve been using the last couple of nights.”

Miguel shakes his head. “I don’t want you to feel-”

“I don’t,” you counter. “I want to help. I want you to sleep well, and if this helps, let’s do it. I don’t mind. If it works, you’ll let me know by accepting the new sweatshirt each week. No words need to be exchanged. If it stops working, you’ll let me know by declining the sweatshirt. We’ll find another method then, okay?” you ask softly.

Seeing the tender look on your face and hearing your reassuring words, Miguel nods slowly. “Thank you,” he hesitantly answers, feeling embarrassed.

You smile at him kindly. “Always.”

He gives you a soft, almost shy smile and you know this is too much for the founder and commander of the Spider Society, so you try to ease the situation for him to make him feel comfortable again.

“This coffee is really good,” you say as your attempt to lighten up the mood. You want to bring back the carefree Miguel from earlier.

Miguel hums. “It’s even better with a piece of pan dulce,” he says looking at his own coffee. “Gabriel and I used to make this kind of coffee on Saturdays when we had more time,” he shares. Sometimes they took turns making it and they’d always bring a cup to each other wherever they were in the penthouse. Even when Gabriel moved to his own floor, the tradition carried on. Miguel can’t help himself from thinking that Gabriel is probably happy he’s made some again, which happens to be on a Saturday. He can almost hear him telling him to make it a thing again, even if Gabriel isn’t here anymore. He looks over at you suddenly, his embarrassment subsiding now thanks to your change of conversation, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. He’s noticed the way you always try to make hard situations for him better and he appreciates it. So much. It encourages him even more to embrace this new journey. “If you’re not too busy next Saturday, I could make more and buy pan dulce.”

You nod slowly, smiling. “That sounds great.” You pause, thinking. “And since you cooked today, I can cook something then. I promise my living room will look presentable again.”

Miguel hides it well but he’s surprised at the subtle invitation for dinner. He nods slowly and chuckles. “Very well. And I’m sure it will.”

You nod and smile before you look at the time, wondering where the time has gone, sharing Miguel’s feeling from earlier. Time flies when you’re in each other’s presence. You finish your coffee and motion to the kitchen as it still needs to be cleaned.

“Do you want help picking up your kitchen?” you ask but Miguel quickly shakes his head.

“I can take care of it but thank you though,” he responds softly.

“Well, I should probably head home now. It’s getting pretty late and you still need rest. Your wounds doing good?” you ask as you get up at last.

“Yes. The smaller ones are closed up. It’s just the trident wound now,” Miguel answers standing up, too, as his hand brushes past the hem of his shirt since he’s wearing normal clothes today. He wants to show you the progress but he’s not sure about randomly pulling up his shirt to show you. He ends up doing it anyway, deciding that you’ve seen him in far less appropriate ways since he’s certain that you unfortunately caught glimpses of certain parts of his body when you helped him get dressed. The two of you tried your best but only so much could be covered at some points, which makes Miguel’s face feel suddenly hot but he ignores it as he shows you.

Your eyes fall on his tan and bare skin. There’s hardly any sign of injuries, except for the trident wound, which is still in the process of healing. You nod, satisfied that he’s almost fully recovered before looking up at him, not wanting to stare for too long at his well defined body.

“I’m happy to see that you’re recovering well. I’m sure the trident wound will heal completely in a few days.”

“I think so, too,” Miguel says, letting go of his shirt. “I also want to thank you for helping me with my injuries. I know it was probably - Some people don’t do well seeing injuries like that. Yet, I still asked you even with a medical team available,” he says with a sigh. “It really meant a lot to me as you know that I can’t… You know,” he says softly, referring to his boundary regarding physical touch. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

You shake your head. “I wanted to help you, Miguel. I wasn’t ‘putting up’ with you. My only worry was I wasn’t going to do it properly and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Miguel chuckles quietly. “I felt no pain with you and I’m certain my less serious injuries are fully healed because of you. So, thank you, again, for everything, Y/N.”

And when he emphasizes “everything” once again, Miguel now includes his sleeping situation and the fact that you’ve unselfishly offered to help him again.

You smile brightly at him. “Always… So, let me get you the sweatshirt,” you say as you start clicking on your gizmo.

“I’ll go with you, if that’s okay. That way you can stay home already and not make multiple trips. It’s the least I can do,” Miguel says quietly and you nod slowly.

“Just ignore the mess,” you chuckle and Miguel raises an eyebrow, playfully.

“Even your mess is organized,” he comments, which makes you laugh as you pick up the flash drive from earlier, making sure to hold on to it.

You head to the living room with Miguel behind, remembering that the multidimensional portals make nearby objects float so you want to avoid the kitchen. You open the portal and motion to Miguel to follow you. You step into your living room and quickly go to turn on a light since you forgot to leave one on before you left.

You place the flash drive next to your laptop, telling Miguel to give you a second before entering your bedroom to retrieve the sweatshirt. Miguel looks around your apartment while he waits, feeling embarrassed that he’s actually doing this. He tries to let it go and focuses on the current state of your living room instead, noticing the new bookcase you have yet to put together and a few other boxes he didn’t notice earlier. He thinks of something just as you step out of your bedroom holding a sweatshirt with a smile.

“Here we go. Next Saturday, we exchange,” you say, still smiling as he hesitantly accepts it.

Miguel holds it gently, feeling the softness of the fabric. He nods while looking down at you. “Thank you. Next Saturday then…” he says and you nod.

“Next Saturday after dinner.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Miguel quietly responds. “I’ll go ahead and head out. You must be tired from working on your apartment all day. Rest well.”

“You, too. I’ll tell Lyla about-” you start.

“Don’t worry, I got it under cover,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly, surprising you because she’s supposed to be deactivated. A thought Miguel voices out loud. “I have my ways of coming back,” she replies with a shrug.

You shake your head in amusement. “Alright. Well, it seems like Lyla knows what to do. Good night, Miguel,” you say softly.

“Good night, Y/N,” Miguel answers. He looks at Lyla and gives her a warning look. “Behave Lyla.”

“I always do,” she responds, which earns her a scoff.

Miguel gives you a soft smile and a nod as he’s about to enter the portal to head home but he stops. Still holding your sweatshirt, he turns sideways.

“Before I head home… Would you like some help?”

You slightly raise an eyebrow. “Help?”

Miguel nods and motions to your living room. “You know - With your apartment.”

You hold his gaze for a few seconds, thinking. You spent the majority of your mourning journey on your own and thought it’d end the same way. You had every intention of doing this on your own, too. You thought you needed to. And yet, as you look at Miguel, you realize that just because you started this transition in your life alone, doesn’t mean you must end it the same way.

You smile. “How do you feel about putting a bookcase together?”

Miguel looks over at the bookcase’s box before he returns his gaze to you, smiling softly. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

You chuckle and you’re about to tell him you were joking about the bookcase and that you’d appreciate help hanging up new wall decorations but before you can speak, Miguel beats you to it. “I can drop by tomorrow. Just let me know what time would be best for you,” he says, sincerely.

You nod slowly. “Midday? Lunch on me,” you say softly and Miguel nods.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow then… Goodnight,” he says.

“Goodnight! Thank you, by the way.”

“Always,” Miguel replies. With one last nod and a small smile, he heads out holding your sweatshirt in his hand.

You stand there and watch the floating objects fall to the ground as the portal closes after him.

Before you jump in the shower, you quickly set the photos from the flash drive to print since you have the supplies. Thirty minutes later you’re placing all the photos you’ll be using in the now dry picture frames. You hang them on your wall and try different variations for a few minutes. You take a step back at last, happy with the last variation. There are now other pictures of Peter, some of which were some of the last photos you took of him like the one where he’s showing off his “Spider-Woman’s #1 Fan” t-shirt. It was one of the last things he bought before he passed away.

The rest of the photos are of your new friends. You spot the one Pav took of the time Hobie, Pav, and you went to get ice cream at Hobie’s universe, which was quite the experience. Then there’s one where everyone went to Gwen’s universe to eat bagels from her favorite bagel place among others that even includes the Morales family. Your gaze shifts to the ones of Miguel and you.

You asked for the pictures from Christmas Eve, a few from the two of you on rooftops, and the one from today before they land on the last one. You didn’t ask for it but it was in the flash drive. You smile as your eyes scan the photo of Miguel making a face after eating the steamed carrot while you stand next to him, watching him. You were surprised to see it in the pile of printed photos when you got out of the shower and wondered if it was a mistake but then you thought about it and realized Miguel wouldn’t make a simple mistake like that. Right?

And the truth is no, it wasn’t a mistake. Miguel added it because he saw you found it amusing. So now it’s on your wall, next to a picture of Peter and you. You yawn softly and smile before you turn around to look at your apartment. There’s the empty spot from your old couch ready to be filled with the new one and even though you have the urge to clean the area and go ahead and place it, you decide to leave it for tomorrow.

You do your night routine, put your gizmo back on so Lyla can do her thing, and get in bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Back in Nueva York, Miguel lays on his bed a little while after cleaning the kitchen. He stares at the ceiling, thinking. Your sweatshirt is on the other side of the bed, over the pillows. A few minutes later, Lyla appears and tells him she’s about to play the live feed from your gizmo. He sighs in disbelief when she disappears, unable to believe this is happening but his thoughts stop when he hears your slow and even breathing. He closes his eyes, feeling the effect almost immediately. He hesitantly reaches for your sweatshirt and pulls it closer, letting your scent surround him.

It’s only a matter of minutes before Miguel falls asleep to the sound of your live breathing and scent. He falls into a deep slumber, unknowingly seeking to be closer to your sweatshirt in his sleep. He fulfills his quest by pressing the soft fabric to his face.

_________________

*Translation for italicized Spanish words:* Really love getting to include more Mexican/Latin details ❤️

-Ternura - endearing, tenderness; I've been thinking about this for such a long time because of Miguel lol I can't think of another word in English that has the same feeling "ternura" does. I don't know if it's just me or if other Spanish-speakers can relate

-"Trataré. Te lo juro." - "I will try. I swear."

-Flautas - literally translates to "flute" haha but it's a deep fried tortilla with filling and topped with different toppings.

-Agua de jamaica - Hibiscus tea (I drink this every day lol)

-Agua Fresca - translates to "fresh water"; there are different flavors like horchata water

-Canelita - cinnamon tea

-Mierda - shit

-Burritos de Tinga - translates to "Tinga burritos"; Latin dish made out of meat (pork, chicken) in sauce with onions, chiles chipotle and tomatoes. Can be eaten on tostadas or in burritos (my experience)

-Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead

-Café de olla - coffee made in a pot

-Pan Dulce - sweet bread (it's that time of the year, iykyk)

________________

Hi, guys! First, I hope you enjoyed this new update! Second, I want to apologize for updating almost a month later. I'm so sorry! This part took me a while to write and there were some sections I wasn't initially happy with, so I took extra time to work on them. Then, I got sick lol I was hoping to update sooner but that kind of threw off my plans. I was even hoping to do a Halloween special for the story (short drabble) but life happens.

I'm actually thinking about doing a Thanksgiving one now. I know not everyone celebrates but I don't know, it would be kind of cute and just a short drabble connected to the storyline, not an official part if that makes sense. Just something to read on Thanksgiving related to Miguel x reader and the other spider members! ☺️ if you're interested in getting tagged for that (if all goes well and I actually get to write it), please let me know. Or, you can always just look for it on my masterlist, of course!

Also, I wanted to say a huge THANK YOU for all the support part 9 received!!! Like, for real, thank you SO MUCH!! I think it's the part that's had the most support right after I posted it (besides part 1) regarding reblogs, comments, and asks. It meant a lot to me as several days went into that part specifically because of how long it was, so I really appreciate it and I'm just really happy that so many of you enjoyed it. ❤️🥹

I think that's all I have to say! Thank you again for the amazing support and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope you're all having a wonderful start to November, which just makes me wonder where did this year went?! I swear it was just February and now we're here lol but anyway, have a great start to November and take care of yourselves!!

P.S. Please check out the amazing fanart that has been created for Nonviolent Communication! It can be found in my masterlist! Thank you to the amazing talented artists for your support, it means so, so much to me!!! ❤️

-Alondra

__________

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @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

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tarjapearce · 15 days

Text

That First Kiss

Pre Soccer Family! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warning: 0. Just fluff. Mildly suggestive towards the end

Summary: The first kiss shared with Miguel ~

After that dance back at Peter there was something undeniable blooming between Miguel and you.

He had tried to kiss you after all, only to be denied by a simple yet crucial mistake made by none other than his own doubts.

He mulled over your words over and over. Would've something changed if he invited you properly to the party? Maybe something, maybe everything. He didn't know anymore but his mind was set into achieving that kiss.

Would it be too desperate if I want to kiss her?

He had asked Peter.

Cause in all truth, Miguel O'Hara, a prodigy, and soon to be ascended in the Alchemax's bureaucracy lines, didn't know a peep in flirting, much less in when to make a move.

The epitome of such thing was him telling you about the party, but not inviting you.

Social gatherings weren't his forte but Peter and Gabriel had been kind enough to include him in every activity and prevent him from being a forever stunted wallflower. The reason why Peter always asked him to cook for his parties.

And the reason he was having an override in his system after you left him with his lips pursed, perfect to touch yours.

"If you wanna do that, means you're into her. That you like her."

Peter mumbled while sucking the sauce off his fingers.

Despite the disgusting sight his red eyes got at the moment, he knew Peter was rather intuitive when it came to these things. He wasn't a complete idiot.

But with MJ at his side, Miguel had secretly made Peter a prime example of what to do and not do when it came to women.

"Can't believe she refused to kiss you." his friend snorted while drinking the last bit of his Corona.

"Don't remind me."

Miguel rubbed his face and picked up the dishes.

"Look, you're the only one that hasn't realized she also likes you." Peter smirked when Miguel gave a faint and proud chuckle at his words.

"You just gotta make a little more effort if you know what I mean."

"Not really."

"C'mon pal, I know you had a girl back in college."

"Dana? We just lasted a semester."

"Still is experience. Negative or positive. But your friend that's into you too, is a new chance to make things right. If that's what you're after."

"I wanna take it slow and see where it leads us."

Peter nodded but then shrugged.

"Tell me something. Do you want just a hookup with her?"

"No."

"What do you want then?"

"Get to know her more and see where it takes us." Miguel mumbled a tad sheepishly.

"Do you want whatever it is to be something more?"

"If she wants to. If she doesn't then... I'll leave her be."

"And how would you do that?" Peter kept inquiring and Miguel seemed to actually consider his words.

"By inviting her to a dinner or a movie."

Peter smiled and nodded proudly. "You're welcome. Now... All you gotta do is save her number I totally did not asked MJ, and invite her." Peter sent him your number and washed his hands.

"I got you, pal. Don't screw it up this time though."

-----

Would you be asleep? Would it be rude of him to suddenly text you out of nowhere? It had been a week of staring at his phone screen, glaring at your name on the chat log and watching the profile picture change a couple of times.

A week of pure self torture and replaying the many scenarios of him being fooled and rejected. He was angry at you for making him this nervous and, angry at himself for not being able to press send after rewriting several times the future message that could either make it or break it, before anything could even take off between you two.

"If you're trying to see if you have telepathy, I'm telling you, it's not working Miggy."

Miguel rolled his eyes and heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I like her. You haven't even started something and you're already nervous."

Miguel threw a pillow at Gabriel and the latter laughed to then return it.

"It's just a message, not a proposal."

"How do I know-"

"Goddammit" Gabriel groaned annoyed.

It felt like time slowed down when Gabriel pressed his fingertip against the screen on the send button.

Three letters were sent. And the seen icon showed up.

Hey

But his heart thumped harder when the three dots appeared on his screen along a message

Hello, stranger :)

Gabriel snorted and patted his shoulder.

"Good luck, Miggy."

----

Hey

Hello, stranger :)

It's Miguel. Peter gave me your number.

Oh? Too afraid of asking it yourself, Dracula?

He chuckled while accommodating the pillow behind his head.

It always escapes my mind doing so, Pitufina.

Sorry if I'm interrupting .

My overthinking maybe, so thanks for that.

His smile widened

Must admit though, didn't expect you to message me.

Sorry for taking that long. Wasn't that sure you'd engage into this.

'Engage into this' he says. Relax, I ain't biting.

Unless that's your sort of thing. I don't judge :) .

A little warmth spreaded through his cheeks as he read the message with an airy chuckle.

Wanna find out?

I believe the polite thing to do before that happens, is for you to take me out on some dates, sir.

He had you right where he wanted. With a deep breath he typed, not letting the sudden burst of boldness that took over to waste.

Then next week, a dinner on Friday. I'll pick you up at 7.

He left no room for doubts, just a yes from your end.

Yes, sir.

And it was official. Miguel O'Hara had a date.

Then a second and a third. Tonight was the fourth one. Something regular, more intimate and comfortable. A movie night.

I'm going through the popcorn section and there's no spicy one. And I know you give the caramel ones the mean eye.

They get stuck in my teeth, preciosa. Not precisely something I enjoy removing.

I've got Butter Lovers and classic.

Bring the classics and some tajín. I'll prepare them here.

Ok. On my way

You closed the chat log and went to the cashier.

----

Even though he had explained you that he didn't have a problem by paying up in all the dates, you still wanted to give some of that back. He had refused but eventually agreed upon sensing your pouting through the texts.

So you were in charge of the snacks this time. You'd be a liar to say if you didn't go overboard with it. The usual candies and some Mexican snacks he talked about in the past dates.

Movie begun, both of you laid on his couch, inches away from touching each other's knees and shoulders. A bowl of popcorn on his hands big enough for the both, some soda and other candies.

The movie played, earning a few giggles here and there from you and sometimes Miguel.

You didn't know when his fingers grazed your shoulder, or when his arm draped around you.

You could feel his heart thumping through his solid and warm chest, inviting you to rest your head on it.

And when you did, his whole body tensed, to finally relax when you smiled.

His eyes had long stopped focusing on the movie, rather your expressions and reactions.

The way your eyes crinkled with joy, your lower lip trembling on a specific sad scene and how lovely they stretched whenever a laugh came out of them.

"God, that's so corny."

You tittered while resting your head ontop of his chest again. Body relaxing with a deep and silent sigh.

Your fingers curled softly ontop of him and his hand immediately opened to hold yours. Long and calloused fingers entwined with yours.

The darkened room and the dim light irradiating from the tv were the perfect catalyst for him to inch his head closer to yours.

Miguel gulped when you craned your head upwards to watch him,

"Are you ok?"

He nodded but gulped again when your tongue misted your lips, as if preparing them for an emerging endeavor.

"You? Are you enjoying?"

A sweet smile stretched again in your lips. But your eyes were locked in his, breaking the contact for a minute to stare at his lips.

His arm pulled you closer and one of your hands slid through his cheek, caressing his skin, mildly prickly with stubble.

He was about to speak, but closed his lips to finally dip his head and kiss you. As if deciding that going for it instead of asking made it better.

Your lips received him with a soft sigh that only deepened when he placed a hand on the slope of your jaw to keep you in place as his lips kept kissing and marking yours in slow and gentle motions.

Your hands thrummed over his chest, and soon both of his hands were gently cupping your face. Some of your strands entangled in his fingers.

Neither wanted to break it. Not when his tongue was curling and playing with yours, fighting sensually for control. But your lungs demanded air. And when the kiss broke, he took a deep inhale to give gentle pecks on your sweet tasting lips.

"Happy?" your forehead rested against his and his hands roamed your back. Taking a much heat he could from you.

"Very." Another peck and you bit him softly. He returned the bite with his fangs trapping your bottom lip to then deliver a gentle lick on it.

"Can I have more?"

He put a strand of hair off your face and tucked it behind your ear while nodding with dazed eyes and a warm smile on his face.

"Los que quieras, mi amor." (As many as you want.)

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #mama o'hara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara

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exhaslo · 5 months

Note

Um, hi, this is my first request, so I'm kind of nervous and will probably ramble. I wanted to ask if you could write a Miguel fic where he's the reader's best friend's older brother? Something like in the song 'Stacey's brother' by Mad Tsai, except that the main character is a girl. Er, so basically, reader has been bff's with Miguel's younger sibling for a long time and she and Miguel started developing feelings for each other over time and he wants to tell his sibling, but she's nervous and feels guilty. So then Miguel starts touching her and teasing her whenever she goes over, trying to get her to crack? And then a spicy hookup scene too? But more soft, like a childhood sweethearts kind of thing? Sorry it's so specific, I just want someone else to write it for me 😭. Okaythanksbye!

Awe! Don't be nervous and I love the idea!!! I'll keep it nice and sweet with a little bit of teasing here and there for you! But don't be afraid to make requests!! :D

Warning: Fluff really, teasing, touching, making out

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Since kindergarten, you and Gabriel O'Hara had been best friends. The two of you were like peas in a pod and had to absolute everything together. From then until now, the two of you would always try to be in the same class.

Hell, not even the college life could separate the two of you. Both you and Gabriel had to get into the same college. Once you did, you decided to dorm together, at least you were until his big brother had something to say about it.

You had heard the stories of the big bad brood known as his brother. Miguel O'Hara. Every time you went over to his house, you never saw the man, until now that is. You wanted to find out why his big brother was holding you back from your best friend.

And lord was he your type.

"What gives dude?" You huffed, staring at the large man before you.

"(Y/N), Miguel is mad todaaaaay, he's gonna lecture you!" Gabriel cried out, crawling on the floor as if he was a survivor.

"It isn't like we're together or anything. You know your brother as well as I. He can barely touch himself out help." You said bluntly.

"Ouch, that hurt, (Y/N)."

"This isn't about that," Miguel said with a loud huff, "I just don't think the two of you fools will focus on your school work. You'd just play games all day instead of studying." He admitted.

God, he even sounded fine. You furrowed your brows as you tried to glare towards Miguel. He kept his stern look, towering over you. Whatever girl got with him was lucky indeed.

"Fair enough. Gabriel, why don't you commute from home since you live closer to the college. I'll dorm since my parents are moving out of the city. I can always come over and hang out."

"Here?" Miguel questioned. You glanced at his handsome face,

"Is there a problem?"

"No."

----------

There in fact was a problem. Gabriel was living with Miguel at the time. This was dangerous. Every time you came over, you could barely focus. Miguel was stealing your attention away from your best friend. He was just, oh so fine!

Honestly, you wanted to learn more about Miguel. Sometimes, you purposely went to the house when Gabriel was in class just to play dumb. Miguel offered to have you wait inside for him, but you always chickened out.

But not today.

You honestly thought Gabriel was home when you knocked on the door. The two of your shared a different class and had a project coming up. When Miguel answered the door, you felt your knees grow weak.

"He's at his club," Miguel said as he let you inside. You bit your lower lip, holding your bag tightly,

"Oh, I forgot that was today." You said, plopping yourself on the couch and getting your notes out, "I'll just wait here. We have a project to work on."

"Hm, I remember him saying something about that. What are you working on in the meantime?" Miguel asked as he leaned against the couch, his breathe tickling your ear.

"Biology." You did your best to avoid stuttering.

"Need some help?" Miguel asked as he sat beside you.

You could feel your heart racing as Miguel pressed up against you. His warmth engulfing your side. You were enjoying this. It was hard for you to pay attention as Miguel tutored you. All you could hear was the beating of your heart.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered, his hand against your thigh, "You don't seem to be paying attention."

"Kind of hard, when I have such a good teacher," You muttered.

Miguel just chuckled in response as he stroked your thigh. You scooted closer to him, your hand against his. Your body was getting warmer as you got closer to Miguel. His face was inches away from yours.

"Fiiiiiinally! I thought I'd never be free!" Gabriel gasped, immediately making the two of you move away, "Hm? What are you guys doing?"

"Studying." The two of you said in unison.

----------

You kept going over to 'study' at Miguel's place. Each time, you and Miguel kept getting closer and closer. His hands were roaming a different part of your body while you tried to kiss him. Each time you tried to place your lips against his, something stopped you.

Not this time.

You were sitting beside Miguel, attempting to study. His hands were holding your waist, giving light squeezes every now and then. You were trembling under his touch. You bit your lower lip, leaning into his touch,

"Hey, Miguel," You whispered. Miguel stroked his hands against your back towards your inner thigh,

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"I want to study something else," You whispered, slowly crawling onto his lap, "Do you think you can teach me this too?"

"I think I can,"

Miguel grinned as you finally kissed him. He hands rested against you waist, deepening the kiss. His tongue pushed itself into your mouth, exploring your wet cavern. You muffled into the kiss, wanting air, but Miguel was dominating you.

"Ugh, what a day," Gabriel sighed as he struggled to open the door.

You quickly rolled off of Miguel, squealing lowly as your skirt lifted up. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he fixed your skirt, his fingers gently grazing over your panties. You felt your heart race as you avoided Miguel's gaze.

"H-Hey, Gab! How was class?" You asked, leaning over the couch. Miguel glanced towards his brother, hiding the fact that his hand was now groping your ass,

"Any news on that test you took?"

"Uh, oh wow. What a beautiful day out. Hey, (Y/N), I just remembered that there is a party going on in the quad. Why don't we go check it out?"

"Sure!" You chirped, trying to ignore Miguel's touch, "Have fun at work, Miggy."

Miguel grunted lowly as he watched you leave with his brother. It felt unfair how he had to hide his relationship with you. You were his precious little girlfriend. You were only a couple years younger, but the fact that Miguel worked full time made his time with you so short. He needed more of you.

-----------

"He'll be fine, let's just tell him." Miguel whispered in your ear as he sucked against your neck. You mewled softly, squirming against his lap,

"B-But he is totally going to sing that deception song," You whined.

"He'll get over it."

"But, Miggy," You whined softly. Miguel hummed to your cries and proceeded to grope your body, "It isn't fun hiding our relationship from him."

"I think it is," Miguel huffed, then heard the door downstairs shut, "He's here. How would you like him to know?"

Miguel smirked as he pinned you against his bed, locking you down with his body. You whimpered, feeling his needy lust and your own. You reached up, kissing Miguel. Miguel held your head, making sure that you left his room exhausted.

"Hey, Migs. I'm going to head over to the library for a bit. If (Y/N) stops by, let her know for me, kay?" Gabriel yelled. Miguel raised a brow, breaking the kiss,

"Why don't you tell her?"

"Well, you're her boyfriend aren't you?" Gabriel yelled.

Both you and Miguel froze and immediately ran downstairs. Gabriel just had a grin on his face,

"C'mon, you're my best friend and he's my brother. I noticed long before you guys even kissed."

"But the song-"

"Sang it at karaoke with the boys," Gabriel laughed. Miguel glanced at your dumbfolded expression and chuckled, picking you up,

"(Y/N), Gabriel's going to be in the library. Guess this gives us more study time."

"Ew, no. I don't want to know!" Gabriel cried out as he ran off. You just laughed,

"Don't worry! You'll be my maid of honor!!!"

"Nooooooooooo!"

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

Hahaha, hope you enjoyed!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

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politemenacephd · 4 days

Text

Arachnophilia: (Part Twenty-Nine)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content/CW: Fluff + Angst. Breeding kink, Rough Sex, Possessive Sex, Tongue Play, Creampie, Strong Aftercare.

‘Arañita… I’m, not sure I’m ready for this.’

Mig’s soft voice caught you off guard. You were busy getting dressed in the corner of the den, shifting out of your spider suit into something more casual, and you hadn’t noticed Mig had started anxiously fidgeting in his own unique way.

He’d used his webs to hang his body upside-down from the ceiling, and he was now swinging back and forth with his head barely an inch away from the floor, trying to imitate a spider hanging in mid-air.

He was slowly spinning in a circle, his arms folded and his eyes closed, his brow knotted in thought.

You couldn’t help it; the sight of him made you melt, and a soft giggle spluttered from your lips. You hid it with your hand but Mig was quick to notice.

‘Mm?’ he grunted, carefully opening one big, red eye. ‘Arañita, did you hear me?’

‘Mhm. I sure did’ you said, pushing down your laughter as you approached. You sank down to your knees and shifted his head so that it was laying in your lap, allowing you to comb his hair through with your fingers. He looked nervous at first, his big red eyes peering up at you in this odd position, but the longer you preened him the softer he became.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting to reveal his teensy little fangs peeking out. You smiled.

‘I refuse to believe hanging like that is comfortable’ you whispered gently against his forehead. Miguel grumbled.

‘It is not, but- my instincts desire me to try it. It is… comforting, if not comfortable.’

‘You’re really freaking out that badly?’

As you stroked his head back and forth Miguel nodded again, his red eyes slowly blinking open to peer up at you above him.

‘Yes, mi tesoro. I am… Quite, freaked out, as you say.’

You sighed and slowly nodded back. ‘Yeah… Yeah, me too, honestly.’

You didn’t blame Mig for being nervous. It wasn’t objectively meant to be that scary, but oh god it was. Gabriel had asked you, Mig, and Miguel to try and visit his baby daughter Micaela now that they’d been reunited. Since the little girl was sick and Mig was, well, Mig, a giant 9ft spider hybrid, they’d all agreed it would be easier to keep her in her own universe, and have you, Mig and Miguel visit via a portal.

They’d calibrated the coordinates so that they could drop in onto the roof of the hospital she was being kept at, avoiding any onlookers or hospital staff, and Gabriel would meet them there to just hang out and get to know the little girl they were now working to save.

It was a nice idea, and nobody could say no to Gabriel’s big puppy-dog eyes, but it was also taking a toll on Mig.

He had only just started interacting with people again, and outside you and Miguel his socialization was still pretty limited. The spider society were more accepting than most, and even there he was largely relegated to looks of fear and morbid curiosity. He wasn’t a real ‘person’ to many of them.

Any but you, that is, and that meant the idea of trying to interact with a baby was terrifying, especially when he felt like it needed to go right. This was his niece after all.

‘You got this, Miggy’ you whispered, sensing his silence. Mig had started disassociating and his eyes were growing dilated, but at the sound of your voice he blinked them back to normal.

You felt his soft, thick hair nestling against your thighs as he craned his neck to see you better. When you brushed his cheek with your fingers, he purred.

‘Mm… I hope you are right, arañita’ he murmured softly. ‘I just- if I upset my brothers offspring—’

‘Do you have to say offspring, sweetheart?’ you giggled, lightly cutting him off. Mig purred a little louder and shifted on your lap.

‘What, am I not supposed to say that?’

‘You say baby, sweetheart. Just say baby’ you insisted, still giggling a little from how sweet that enormous beast looked on your lap.

He tilted his head and grunted. ‘I… I will, try, I suppose, if you believe it may offend my brother otherwise.’

‘Not offend, just… might confuse him, is all. Don’t worry.’

You took another quiet moment to comb out his hair while he closed his eyes and relished the touch. It was a peaceful moment, in the warmth of your den.

‘… I, um…’

You paused, unsure of what to say. Neither you nor Mig had acknowledged your awkward love confession since it happened, not really, beyond agreeing it just wasn’t the right time to acknowledge it. This was fine, but you kept feeling the urge to say you loved him now that it’d been said once, and without that discussion you weren’t sure if you could say it or not.

Mig opened his eyes and peered up at you again. You didn’t need words at this point. Mig read your thoughts with ease.

‘… Mi tesoro’ he whispered smoothly, reaching one large, calloused hand up to cup your cheek. ‘Tú eres mi corazón, arañita. No lo dudes.’

You smiled a little wider as your heart swelled. ‘Mi corazón’ you whispered back.

You leaned down to kiss him, his claws drawing your face towards his own, when—

‘EY! Are you home?’

You both jumped in surprise at the sound of Miguel’s voice drifting in from the top of your nest. You reluctantly let Mig go and helped him stumble onto his eight fluffy legs, before rushing to the entrance to greet your slightly unexpected friend.

‘Miguel! Hey, down here!’

He was standing at the entrance to the nest with folded arms. His eyes kept roaming around the forest, almost as if he were nervous, but the moment he saw you he stopped and fixated. His face turned quiet, polite, verging on perhaps affectionate, as he curled his lip and helped pull you out of the hole.

‘I was worried you’d be late’ he grunted, swiftly putting you to the side before reaching to help Mig. The great spider took his hand, but, it was clear he didn’t need the help, and assumed instead that Miguel simply wanted to hold hands.

Miguel was left slightly flustered with his comparatively smaller hand in Mig’s as his enormous variant beamed with joy, and you struggled not to break down laughing.

‘Can- can we just, go, please?’ Miguel hissed, far too awkward to break the contact. You nodded.

‘Yeah, uh- don’t worry I can set up the portal’ you said, refusing to give Miguel any excuse to let go. He was left with a sour, confused expression as Mig held him tight, unaware that this wasn’t what he’d wanted.

You input the exact coordinates as given and created a portal, and without further delay, all three of you stepped inside. Miguel used this as his excuse to break Mig’s grip.

You all stepped through with relative ease, out of the cool, misty mountain woods and out into the head of the hospital roof, with the tarmac wavering ever so slightly with heat lines beneath the clear blue sky.

You could hear traffic, distant cries and calls, and could smell gas and street food.

It smelled like the city all right. You’d been in Miguel’s home so long you’d almost forgotten it.

‘Ah- Dios mio, Aquí huele fatal eh?’ Mig grunted as he stepped through. His higher senses were delicate from a decade of living in the woods, and you saw him do a little shudder with his abdomen as the smell assaulted him.

Miguel grunted, but quickly took a sympathetic stance with the giant shuddering spider. ‘te acostumbrarás’ he muttered back.

‘Ay, eso espero’ Mig replied.

‘HERMOSO! You made it!’

The three of you jumped as you saw the hospital door swing open, revealing the glowing, grinning face of Gabriel as he stormed up towards you, his arms filled with a soft little bundle of blankets.

You immediately felt the tension rise. Oh boy, here we go.

‘Hermosito’ Miguel and Mig said in unison. They shot each other a glance while Gabriel just chuckled.

‘Ey, I’m glad you found your way here quickly. The nurses are on break so I managed to break ‘er out pretty easily, and they shouldn’t be up here at any point’ Gabriel said as he approached. ‘So, did you guys get here okay?’

‘Yes, we- literally just portalled in. It took less than a second’ Miguel replied, as he noticed that Mig was too spellbound by the bundle to say a thing.

‘Oh, right! The portals. I don’t know how you guys

‘So, how’s the uh- the work been going?’ Gabriel asked as he shifted the bundle. You could see Mig craning to try and see the baby while doing a poor job of looking like he wasn’t, while Miguel was overtly trying to avoid looking at it. You kept your giggles to yourself. Sweet boys, you thought. Your sweet, dumb boys.

‘It has been, ah—’

‘Satisfactory’ Mig said, cutting Miguel off. ‘Yes, we’ve drafted some plans to approach the issue, based on the uh- blood samples you sent us. It is, quite nasty, but—’

‘We can do it’ Miguel said, butting in with his calm, cool confidence. Gabriel beamed.

‘Ah, wonderful! Well, how about- you guys meet your little patient then’ he said, and without further ado, he began to peel back the blankets while shielding her from the sun. You could almost feel the boys tensing up with a wild mixture of emotions. Fear, apprehension, excitement, a giddy well of feelings for this one tiny thing.

The blanket peeled back, bit by bit, and there she was.

Mig’s eyes almost dilated at the sight.

She was so small, even by baby standards. Micaela was just a tiny little thing, with delicate little fingers and big brown eyes darting about her new surroundings, quivering slightly in her covers. She had the same dark hair as Gabriel, with slightly darker skin, looking like a real mini O’Hara in the making.

You weren’t sure what to do but ‘aw’, until you were abruptly distracted by an unusual sound.

You glanced up and noticed that Mig seemed to be… purring? He was vibrating softly, his back legs tapping and rustling. It was something you’d never seen him do before. You’d seen him purr, sure, but this was new. It was like a cat admiring its kittens.

‘You want to hold her, hermoso?’ Gabriel said cheerily as he approached. Gabriel looked happy about the idea, but as he got closer Mig instinctively took a step back, his hands raised high.

‘N-No, no, Gabriel I- I’m too…’ Mig stammered to a halt. His wide eyes were fixed on that baby.

‘Hey, Miggy, it’s okay’ you whispered. You put a hand on his side and held him tight. ‘It’s—’

‘Ay Dios mio- let me.’

You were suddenly but gently pushed aside as Miguel moved forward, taking control as always. He stepped up and grabbed Mig’s hands, dragging him down until his spider legs buckled and folded, and with a stiff lip, he began positioning him.

‘You put your hand- like this, remember to support the head and neck, keep her close to your torso, and be careful of wriggling.’

He listed everything off with unnerving precision as he forced Mig into the right stance, but when he turned to help transfer the girl from Gabriel’s hands, he faltered. His stony, calm expression melted, his eyes widening and wavering a little in the bright sun.

The little girl cooed and waved her hands as she fixated on Miguel, but the moment Gabriel moved her closer to Mig, she began squirming in fear. She didn’t cry but she did let out a few dangerous warbles, like she was about to, and Gabriel was forced to reluctantly pull her back.

‘Ah! Sorry, it- I guess she’s, not used to the uh… size, and the… spideryness’ Gabriel murmured.

You saw Mig falter, his body curling in on itself. He stopped his soft purring and glanced down at his claws, his furry abdomen, his body in comparison to everyone else’s. You instinctively pressed in at his side and tried to comfort him by hugging his enormous abdomen.

‘Ah… yes. I, forgot, for a moment’ Mig murmured. In truth, part of him had expected the baby to have the same instinctive familial reaction he’d had.

As if trying to avoid it getting more awkward, Gabriel instead turned to Miguel. ‘Hey! It’s fine, uh- we’ll try again in a minute. Miguel! You try holding her for a bit instead. Maybe it’ll help.’

You could see it from your vantage point against Mig’s side. You saw Miguel’s lip tremble ever so slightly, the way his stiff shoulders deflated. You saw the flash of humanity in his eyes, and so did Gabriel. He didn’t say a thing.

Whether he said anything or not, it didn’t matter. As a dad himself now, and especially as a dad with a child in a precarious situation, he knew the eyes Miguel was making.

‘Hermoso’ he whispered in a gentler tone, gently lifting Micaela to be taken. Miguel swallowed so hard his Adam's apple jolted, but eventually he caved, and slowly lifted the girl into his arms.

The way he held her betrayed an instinctive understanding of childcare. His careful, perfectly planned cupping, the way he stabilized the head and her bottom while keeping her close to his chest. He rocked her with expert timing, and soon she was cooing sleepily in his arms.

You weren’t sure if anyone else saw it, but you saw something strange in his eyes at that moment. Some deep, unfathomable pit of longing, a rush of melancholic joy.

‘Arrorró mi niña’ he whispered against her forehead, forgetting that anyone else was even there. You noticed Gabriel smiling sadly.

‘Arrorró mi niña, arrorró mi sol… arrorró pedazo, de mi corazón.’

Miguel whispered it all in the hopes that no one else would hear, but you could see his lips moving slowly as he rocked the frail baby girl in his arms.

You continued lightly stroking Mig’s side, and bit by bit he calmed down. He might not be able to hold her, but right now… well, this was okay. This was acceptable. He watched Miguel, a smaller carbon copy of himself, and pretended it was him holding the infant instead.

Miguel clung to Micaela for a few minutes, silently whispering and shushing as she cooed and squirmed. She got drool all over his suit, but he didn’t care one bit. Beneath the sun, holding that baby who looked at least a little like someone who he once knew and loved with all his heart, he felt the most overwhelming sense of peace.

It hurt, but… it hurt good.

He gave himself another peaceful minute before realizing he needed to let go, or he might never be able to find the strength to give her up.

‘Oye! You, your turn’ Miguel grunted as he turned towards you. You blanked as you saw his claw pointing in your direction.

‘Wha- no! No, no, don’t be silly, this is your guy’s thing, it’s not- AH!’

Miguel dragged you up and threw you under his arm like luggage, something that a man of his size could just do, and despite your grumbling he carried you over and sat you down on the floor beside Mig’s little forelegs.

‘This is a group thing, you participate in group things’ Miguel said sternly.

With utmost care, Miguel lifted the little baby Micaela up and gently lowered her down into your own stiff and waiting arms. You saw him stiffen his lip as he gently nudged your fingers into the right position, wordlessly moving your body like a mannequin, until at last she was laid down in your arms to rest.

You remained stiff, terrified of doing even the most minor thing wrong.

Micaela stared back with those wide, gormless eyes, her fist in her mouth and her other hand lightly tucked to her chest. You blanked fully.

‘Ah… aha, uh… hi?’ you murmured to the baby, as if she’d somehow respond. Miguel pinched his brow. ‘Dios mío, este idiota…’

Micaela was silent for another few seconds before suddenly squealing. She babbled and began pawing at you, her big eyes roaming over your face with a deep, innocent curiosity.

Bit by bit, you relaxed.

‘She, ah… she is kinda cute, huh?’ you chuckled.

‘Did you, just realize that?’ Miguel asked in that quietly sarcastic tone of his. He dropped down to a squat so he could watch more closely with Gabriel at his side, and despite being a little grumpy earlier he managed to shoot you a small smile.

‘I mean… I guess, yeah’ you replied softly, not wanting to disturb her as she tugged at your suit.

‘Word of advice, ah- babies are always cute, whether you think so or not. Especially when their parent is beside you’ Miguel whispered back. You couldn’t hide your giggle, nor the way your eyes began to light up as Miguel gently mouthed your suit, settling right into your stiff arms.

‘Yeah… she’s cute’ you whispered. ‘She’s real cute.’

Micaela then decided to reach up and slap your face, causing you to splutter.

‘BLAGH- HEY—’

The little girl squealed with excitement and began slapping your face more, grabbing at your nose and patting your lips, nearly poking your eye out as she babbled curiously. You just let it happen, all while giggling and spluttering your words.

‘Oh- shes- great, yep- blegh- she’s a real- character-ACK—’

Miguel hid his mouth as he smiled while Gabriel laughed out loud.

In that quiet moment, you didn’t see Mig watching you like a hawk, with those wide, dilated red eyes almost unblinking in their fixation.

He watched the smile on your face, the way you shrugged awkwardly and tried your best to keep Micaela safe and sturdy, the way you let her jab her fingers in your face and splutter with muted giggles.

He watched, quiet and contemplative.

‘Are we going to talk about what you said?’

Ay, mi amor, there is nothing to be said about it. I don’t need to say it. I know it to be true, Mig thought to himself. He felt a load on his heart slowly lighten.

He’d been so afraid of loss, but seeing this… Seeing you, cradling his niece, giggling with his brother, and shrugging and joking and showing the same tenderness you’d always shown…

I don’t think you’re scary.

Mig flashed back to the way you’d looked at him the first day you met. That sweet, awkward but polite smile, slowly fading into one of genuine compassion.

And then, for a moment, he remembered his life for the past decade or more. Sitting alone in the woods, waiting, praying, sadly strumming his webs alone as he begged for anyone to come, anyone to even see him, let alone love him.

It was a cold memory. A pit, a void, he thought he’d never escape.

But he had.

He sat here now, beneath the sun on the hospital roof, with his family. With his niece, his brother, his strange bitter variant, and… you. You.

The reason he was here at all. Sitting cross-legged on the hot tarmac, nestled in the shade of his gargantuan shadow, holding that baby in your arms as she gurgled and drooled on your suit, looking as patient as possible.

That baby… what if… you could hold his baby like that too…

He lulled as he felt the warm sun heating the dark fur on his abdomen, and he began to subtly vibrate. It started in his front paws and went all the way back to his little stubby end, just a subtle shake, as he felt truly, utterly content for the first time.

‘Oh, hey! Look who’s after her tío!’

Mig blinked and glanced over to see that Micaela was finally looking up at him from within your grip, her fist in her mouth as she gurgled. She wasn’t screaming or shying away in fear anymore. No, now she looked curious.

‘Ey, Miguelito! Try holding her’ Gabriel whispered with a hand cupping his mouth.

Mig went stiff, but you slowly rose up to your feet with Micaela in your hands and Miguel helping you balance by steadying your arms. You walked right up to Mig while bouncing Micaela.

‘Here, Miggy. Look, she wants to say hi.’

Mig stiffened further, but not out of fear. He froze because, for just a moment, he saw what could almost be called a vision.

He saw it. You, walking up to him, holding your child, his beautiful little offspring that you made with him, holding it up for him to take. Your child. His child. With your delicate touch and patient smile, and those beautiful dimples on your cheeks, cradling the babe you both loved so dearly.

In a world where nothing mattered but you, and him. A sweet, domestic picture, where you sat outside your nest, your home, and rocked his baby beside him.

In a near daze he held out his hands, and he allowed you to carefully put Micaela into them. You kept your hands over his as he cupped her head, neck, and bottom, pulling her right up to his enormous, muscled chest.

She looked so, so tiny against him, like a mouse, but he cupped her with a care that seemed almost impossible for someone of his size. Micaela lay and gurgled and cooed between the two of you, her little legs and fists flailing. When you looked up at Mig there were barely a few inches between your face and his.

‘Hey… Look, she likes you’ you whispered, smiling up at Mig’s dumbstruck face. He didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his red eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, as he held his family. As he held you. As he watched you giggle and stroke her little tufty hair, as he watched your smile and the creases by your eyes.

‘… Yes. Yes, she- she seems less, afraid’ Mig murmured. He reluctantly looked away from you just to focus briefly on his darling little niece. He let his thumb stroke her side, her fists, admiring her tiny fingers and tiny toes in her little one-piece.

His breath became a little shaky as he really, truly took in what was happening right now.

‘She… yes, she…’

He stumbled on his words as Micaela reached up and put her fist on his cheek. He went still. He went silent.

You watched Mig’s eyes dilate like a cat, widening until it looked near painful. His lips moved but no sound came out. He just stared, feeling those tiny fingers on his rough skin, that sweet little face grumbling and drooling in his grip.

‘Ah…. A-ah…’

‘Bah!’

Micaela squirmed and squealed, gently slapping his face. Mig looked like he might cry. ‘Ah… m-mi sobrinita’ he choked, ‘No dejaré que nada te lastime. Prometo… prometo.’

Micaela drooled all over his finger, making a mess as she slapped him and pawed at his giant fingers, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. You watched him as his lips turned into a smile, as he relished this moment, the moment he never thought he’d feel.

He’d experienced true joy, and he never wanted to go back again.

Mig was quiet for the rest of the session. He was quiet as Micaela eventually started to bawl her little eyes out, and Gabriel said she needed to be taken back to her room. He was quiet as you said goodbye to Gabriel, as Miguel offered a parting grumble, and he was quiet even as you opened your own portal back to your home in the woods.

You stepped through the portal back to the forest clearing with Mig at your back, and it was only then that you noticed he’d been especially quiet.

‘You okay, Miggy?’

Mig jumped a little and glanced down. He saw your face was concerned and he forced a smile. ‘Ah- yes, mi a- mi tesoro. I’m well’ he murmured.

‘You sure?’

‘Yes. Yes… I’m, very good, in fact’ he whispered calmly, and he meant it. You smiled and continued walking.

‘Okay, good. Good. I’m tryna trust you here! I’m putting my faith in you telling the truth. So, what did you think? She’s sweet right?’

Mig slowly nodded, but he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting further. I want you. I want you, arañita. I love you.

‘Ah, yes, she- she was, very sweet. Such an, optimistic babe, given her circumstances’ Mig replied quietly.

‘I know! I was so surprised. I mean she had to leave pretty quickly, and Gabriel said we caught her on a good day, but…’

As you continued rambling on about the day on the trek towards the nest, Mig found himself losing focus again. He just couldn’t stop the growing urge in his body.

It wasn’t the rut. It wasn’t that simple, not at all. It was something… more. It was instinct and emotion, the powerful conjoined feeling of love and primal desire. It was love, it was lust, it was a need. It was itching for you. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Eventually, you noticed his silence again, and you paused to try and speak to him.

‘Mig, are you—’

You squeaked in shock as something hard hit your back.

You were winded as you hit the bark of a tree, the same tree against which Mig had taken you the first time. It took you a second or two to realize what was happening.

Mig had pinned you to the tree.

You felt hot breath on your neck, breath that moved down your nape to your forehead as his enormous body arched. You could feel the immense weight, the unfathomable strength. It was like being pinned by a car. You felt utterly powerless.

‘Mig?’

‘Shh.’

You felt that strange, alien abdomen shaking as he moved closer, rustling like a rattlesnake. You heard his furry legs shifting, pattering, tapping a rhythm on the ground as he kept you steady. Your gut instinctively tightened.

Oh, god, how you loved that sound.

‘Mig? Are you—’

‘Shh…’

‘Is- a-are you rutting—’

‘No.’

Mig held you close as he breathed in your scent, huffing the top of your forehead like he wanted to saturate his lungs with it. He was panting softly, his rough lips tasting your skin as he drifted down your face from above.

‘Mine…’

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

‘Mine.’

You felt his rough claws digging in, tearing your clothes into little shreds. He ripped them aside piece by piece, and with each bit that came loose, he squeezed, as if he wanted to imprint his hand into every inch of flesh you had to offer.

The chill air nipped at your skin as you were drawn to nakedness against the tree, and all you could do was whine and pant.

‘Miggy, ah—’

‘Mine.’

He whispered it with absolute resolve, right as he tore the final bit of clothing aside. He then squeezed out some of his silky thread, using it to stick you in place so his hand could grasp your jaw in its grip, forcing you to face him.

His eyes were burning, but he didn’t smell like rut. This was new.

‘Miggy?’ you whispered, gently stroking his face. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch.

‘I… I-I want, that’ he whispered, now surer than ever of what he needed most.

‘Want, w-what, Mig?’

‘That. I want… that’ he repeated, his soft eyes closing as he nestled into your neck. ‘What we just saw. What Gabriel has. I want… I want you. I want YOU, arañita.’

Your ribs heaved as he held you close to his body, his sweaty abs slowly moving up and down against your belly as he gripped you.

‘I… I want you too, Mig, I-'

‘No. Listen.’

You went silent as his claws gripped a little harder. You heard him growling, a low, primal gurgle in the back of his throat.

‘That little girl is sick. Their life may end in tragedy’ Mig whispered in his usual blunt fashion, a sentiment that quickly made you tense.

‘M-Miggy this isn’t very, romantic, ah—’

‘Listen to me’ he said, his voice now firm as he squeezed you tighter. You squeaked and went silent.

‘… It may end in tragedy. But it was worth it. Looking at that little girl, my blood, my brother’s offspring, I… I understood. I am so afraid of loss, that I feel no joy could ever be worth the price. But I was wrong.’

His claws dug in tight as he lifted you up the tree, his eyes fixed on your face as he embraced your naked body against his own. The little shiver in his spine went all the way down to his abdomen, and he trembled with yearning, his fur bristling in the sweet autumn chill. You felt his sharp claws gently stroking you, his thumb going up and down your waist.

‘I was wrong’ he repeated in a breathy, husky voice, right against your lips. ‘You, are worth it. No matter what comes, no matter what happens in the end, you are worth it. I want that future with you.’

He squeezed so hard his claws gently pierced your side, his breath coming out in a frantic near sob as his emotion took over. He was filled with a fever, his eyes tinged pink beneath the red hues.

‘I want that world with you. That sweet, simple domesticity. To sit beneath the sun.’

As he held you taut to the tree trunk he began unintentionally oozing web from his forelegs, his pedipalps sticking you to place. You were stuck between his huge, muscled form, his sweaty skin sticking to your own, and the hard tree at your back.

‘Miggy’ you whimpered. Your eyes rolled as he pushed closer, whispering those sweet words as he stuck you to him, possessively trapping you in his web.

‘I want you’ he groaned, ‘and I don’t care if we’re a universe apart. I’ll do anything to right that wrong. ANYTHING. Because you were made for me.’

‘Miggy…’

Your eyelids drooped as he moved closer. You felt the deeply arousing sensation of his slit separating, as his erect cock pushed out and sprung to its fullest length, gently twitching between your thighs. You willingly parted them.

‘I... I want you too, Miggy’ you whined.

You felt him pushing in as he whispered, his soft little abdomen arching and bucking to push his thick, throbbing erection between your plush thighs, nudging at your entrance. You saw his eyes get darker as he pumped that warm, velvety round tip inside, feeling the hot, heavy warmth surrounding him, feeling your body give way to his persistence.

‘I... I want to us. A unit. A-A family…’

He pushed deeper, feeling the soft muscle split, feeling your breath catch as he entered. His clawed fingers wound themselves into your hair as he gasped. He held you as close as he could while his spider body bristled and vibrated, slowly but surely committing to the mating.

‘Quiero hacerte mia, arañita, mi arañita, y quiero que me hagas tuyo’ he softly whispered right into your ear, his breath stirring the nerves there until your spine arched.

You cried out without thinking, unable to resist any longer.

‘F-Fucckkk- I love you, Mig, I-I love you—’

He pushed in until he could fit no more, leaving you bound and stuffed with his thick phallus. The sensation forced you to cry out those last words.

He paused there, strangely, pulling back to let his eyes roam. You couldn’t help but flush as he gently shifted his abdomen, watching the base of his cock appear and then disappear back inside you.

You oomphed at the pressure. No matter how often you did this, it was still a shock.

He had a look of deep, absolute satisfaction on his face. When he moved it again, just by an inch, admiring the bulge in your belly, he looked… affectionate.

‘Mmm…’

He looked back up, his claws stroking and admiring every inch of you. He gently brushed over your folds, your clit, admiring the way you squeaked. He loved that sound. He stroked up over your hips, feeling the fat and muscles between his fingers. He loved that feeling. He brushed up your waist, your chest, to your face, until your glazed-over eyes met his.

‘I love you too, mi arañita’ he whispered with utmost affection.

His eyes softened as he held your gaze. He wanted you to look at him, that monstrous mutant, the man who valued you above all else, as he began this ritual all over again.

‘I will have you now, mi amor’ he purred softly, his shoulder muscles rippling as he rolled them. ‘And I will have you, forever.’

With a soft growl, he started to slowly move in and out. You couldn’t stop the moan that flew from your lips, echoing through the open forest. Mig didn’t seem to care.

The squelch was unbearably lewd this time, the thick, wet sound of his plush cock squishing up to kiss your cervix and then back down again.

You were used to him going into a kind of haze, where he’d thrust and pump himself in an almost animalistic sense and then shower you with affection, but this was different.

He was so attentive this time. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and your lips, smothering you in gentle pecks and breathy little kisses, and his hands squeezed and soothed you as he moved. He let you taste his hot breath as he panted in time with each thrust.

‘Mi, amor… mi amor, mi arañita…’

As he got faster, he started to part his lips, tenderly pulling you into a deeper kiss.

You could feel his abdomen brushing your spread legs as he started to fuck faster, harder, his lips warm but rough on your own. It was like he wanted to eat you up then and there.

You squeaked as his lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. He was ravenous, licking your teeth and your tongue and your gums. Every time he pulled back there was a string of alive between you, one that he licked into his mouth before kissing you again.

‘More… m-more…’

He whined pathetically despite his size, his domineering strength, as he begged for more of you. Your spit, your slick, your sweat, he wanted every inch. You were his.

‘Mi arañita…’

He pulled back from the kiss just to roughly bite and kiss your neck, showering you in soft little puncture wounds from your jaw to your collarbones. When you tried to kiss back he reared up and hissed against your cheek, his possessive flare showing once more. You moaned and backed down.

‘Mine… m-mine…’

His words got less coherent as he hissed, making you stare into his eyes as he mated with you. He even leaned in to kiss you with his eyes open, kissing your lower lip and then your upper lip all while forcing you to watch him moving, fucking, pulsing.

His affection and instinct turned nuclear as he got rougher, faster.

All he could think about was seeing you here, in his den, safe and warm and smiling. He wanted to wake up beside you, he wanted to bring you little treats every day, he wanted to watch you-

He wanted to watch you get full, swollen, and heavy with his offspring. He wanted those little eggs, he wanted to watch them hatch, he wanted to watch you carefully cupping his little baby the way you held Gabriel’s.

Part of him was almost jealous. He couldn’t stand seeing you hold anything but his child, the one he made with you, the one with your eyes and his fangs. The one he put inside you.

He wanted you filled with his seed, filled with his eggs. No more waiting. No more. His instincts were killing him. You were his mate, his MATE.

‘Uh- uh- uh- UH—’

He kept kissing even as he bucked inside you, now moving with such fever that your teeth kept clacking and smashing as he wound his tongue around yours.

He kissed until all you could taste was his mouth, all you could feel was his sweaty, tensed abs imprinted on your belly, and his claws on your hips. You felt your skin separate and then stick together once more with each passionate thrust, each slippery probe into your cunt.

He was whining as he got close.

Out of nowhere he suddenly switched from domineering to pleading, pressing his face against your cheek to nestle your noses and foreheads together while his abdomen flexed.

‘Please, please, please, please, pleassee, pleaseee’ he whined. You felt his cheekbones nearly cutting you as he panted against your lips.

‘Please, please, please’ he continued, his voice getting breathy with each one. You felt him grunt as he squirted a little pre-cum inside you, and his whining got faster. ‘Please, please, PLEASE, please—’

‘Shh, sh- a-ahh- shh, Miggy, you can have it’ you whimpered back.

His claws hands moved up to your waist as he held you still, his eyes now closed as he felt you against him.

‘Mine… Mine, mine, mine’ he whimpered. He pulled back from the kiss just to hiss, torn between his desire and his instinct. His eyes were blazing, his eyes dilated like a cat.

‘Mine… M-Mine, mine- my mate, l-let me mate you, let me- let me breed you, arañita, with my seed, let me breed you, my love.’

You were clawing at his back just to get some sense of stability, your body squirming as you cried. There was a sharp numbness in your hips now, as the weight of his abdomen hit you, but inside you were burning up. Every muscle was tired from tensing, your head was light and dizzy with pleasure, and you could feel the inescapable end approaching.

‘Let me breed me. I-I want you, stuffed with my eggs, swollen with them, c-caring them for me, because you’re mine, you’re MINE, YOU’RE MINE!’

‘I-I’m yours- I’m yours, Mig- ah—’

You could barely get the words out as you drooled everywhere. You felt him pulse deep inside you, that filthy, plush cock trying to impregnate you with all its power. He hissed again, his fangs dripping venom onto your skin.

‘Mine- mine- MINE- M- AHH!’

He shuddered fully as he finally tipped. He felt the undeniable urge to ejaculate, and without thinking he instinctually pulled you into an embrace.

He hugged you up against that tree, pinning you with his full body weight, and he felt you against him as his cock began pulsing that thick seed inside you. He barely moved, just giving the faintest little pulses with his abdomen to get it as deep as he could, because all he wanted was to feel it.

He nestled into your hair and breathed in your scent as he felt every second of his own ejaculation, every little inch of cum being pumped up and then exploding out into your already cramped pussy, and he made sure you felt it too.

This was his claim. His final claim.

When the last of it was spent from his reserves, he continued to hold you close, kissing your forehead and stroking down your waist He was exhausted but overjoyed, while you were barely coherent. All you could feel was that thick, sticky feed dripping down your thigh and bulging your belly up, leaving you utterly stuffed with his genes.

‘I love you’ Mig whispered tenderly, refusing to show how exhausted he was. ‘I love you, arañita. I love you.’

You let out a soft wheeze of a whine as you slowly, shakily, hugged him back.

‘I love you too, Mig’ you wheezed.

You felt him do that little wiggle of joy, but you also felt something warm hit your forehead. When you glanced up, you realized… he was crying.

It was only one or two tears, but they’d fallen from his thick jaw to your head. He gripped you tighter.

‘Mi amor… I swear. No matter what, no matter the cost, I will find a way for us to be together’ he vowed in that moment, still quietly trapped with your bodies intertwined and impaled, and he meant it.

He would finish the solution to overcoming your multiverse differences no matter the cost. You were his light, his joy. He had tasted love and he would not go back again.

‘I swear it. I swear. You will be mine, no matter what…’

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