Lara OliVi

Holding himself up, Miguel watches you through the kitchen windows from outside the penthouse. He holds his grocery bags together with a single string of his neon red web, watching you bake cookies.

Tomorrow is your birthday and you have no idea that Miguel has put together a surprise party in your honor. The bags on his hand contain the last minute things he needs, which he went out to gather using the excuse of doing a quick patrol around the city to avoid ruining the surprise.

With a smile — one that's always inspired because of you — Miguel watches you mix ingredients in a bowl, dressed in a comfy matching lounging set. Lyla hovers around you, making conversation about God knows what. She loves talking to you, so Miguel knows whatever you two are discussing could be about anything.

After realizing that he's been watching for a little too long, Miguel moves away and climbs further up to enter through one of his bedroom windows. He drops off everything he bought and stores it away with the rest. Mentally, Miguel checks off his list before he actually picks up his physical handwritten list. Everything has been bought and seems to be in order for the surprise birthday party. Everyone that needed to be invited has been invited.

Satisfied, Miguel slips back outside to avoid raising suspicions and enters through the living room, where he's instantly greeted with the scent of baking.

“Dulzura, I'm home,” he calls out.

“Hiii, I'm still in the kitchen,” you reply with a chuckle, luring Miguel to meet you with that sound.

-♡-

Today — the day of your birthday — Miguel wakes up a little earlier than he usually does to get started with the day. He wants everything to be perfect, so he works on some things, like taking off the tags of some of the items and even ironing a new tablecloth he bought for the dining table. He hides away his gifts that he plans to give you later in the day when it's just the two of you before he decides it's time to start on a special breakfast for you.

With soft holiday music in the background, Miguel begins working on the food, doing so with love and appreciation.

In the middle of his cooking, Miguel takes a quick glance around the kitchen and dining area only for his eyes to stop at the Christmas tree. Just like in previous years, Miguel and you set up the tree and participated in your yearly traditions of making your personal ornaments. The new ones have now joined the older ones, marking another year. On the windows, cute snowflake stickers you bought decorate the edges along with strings of lights, adding even more holiday spirit to the penthouse.

In the living room, the same applies to the windows. The big artificial tree was brought out for the second year by Miguel and just like with the holographic one, the two of you decorated it together. You even added handmade bows, a gesture that stirred something within Miguel because it's such an intimate gesture. For some strange reason, your handmade bows make him feel happy and he doesn't know why.

It's not like you haven't already added your own personal touches to the penthouse. You have, which Miguel loves, so he doesn't know why the bows have him feeling like this. It's a good feeling though, so Miguel doesn't mind it.

With a little shake of his head, Miguel focuses on making you a lovely breakfast. An hour later, he prepares the table and puts a different record on, something relaxing and nice for you. When that's done, he pulls out a fresh bouquet of flowers he bought yesterday at the market from the couple the two of you met a while back. Carefully, Miguel fixes the bow he added as he recalls Mr. Gonzalez's question for him when he showed up looking for the perfect bouquet.

”Is she your girlfriend yet, mijo [my son]?” Mr. Gonzalez asked, which earned him a gentle swat from Mrs. Gonzalez.

”Don't pay him attention, hijo [son]. Éste hombre se mete en todo [that man gets involved in everything]. The flowers are for her?” she asked with a smile.

”Si, son para Dulzura [yes, they’re for Dulzura],” Miguel replied sheepishly.

“Come, I have other arrangements over here,” she responded before leading him to see the nicer bouquets.

Girlfriend.

Mr. Gonzalez asked him if you were his girlfriend yet, as if it's something he's already expecting to happen.

We're just best friends, Miguel thought to himself, but he didn't voice it.

Miguel's thoughts come to a halt when he hears you come down the stairs. He quickly straightens up and fixes his sweater while holding the bouquet of flowers, getting ready to congratulate you.

With a smile that could melt all the ice in the world, you enter the room looking radiant as always.

At least, to Miguel you always look radiant, even when you say you look tired or other comments about your appearance after just waking up.

He exhales heavily, releasing a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, and smiles warmly at you. God, did you have to look so adorable this early in the day?

“Feliz Cumpleaños [Happy Birthday]!” Miguel excitedly says as he comes to greet you.

“Aww, Miguel,” you sweetly reply as you greet him halfway, hearing the birthday song in Spanish through the speakers. “You got up early to make breakfast! Thank you, you're so sweet!”

“Of course, I wanted to make you breakfast, especially today for your special day.” Miguel says smiling, offering you the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you. I hope you like them,” Miguel sheepishly says with a little blush on his cheeks.

Smiling, you accept the flowers and smell them. A hum of appreciation escapes you. “They're lovely, Migs, thank you so much. For the flowers and the breakfast, which I'm certain is delicious,” you state, noticing a little greeting card hidden away in the flowers. You pull it out, seeing it's a pre-made one that came along with the flowers.

Miguel raises an eyebrow when he sees that, surprised. He didn't notice and now he wonders if the message is appropriate.

“To my soul mate, I hope these flowers bring you as much joy as you do to me,” you read out loud.

“That's — I didn't — It came with it,” Miguel stutters, trying to explain himself so you don't think wrong about him. The last thing he wants is to upset you, or make you feel weirded out.

“I know, don't worry, Solecito [little sun],” you reply with a small chuckle, tucking away the card. “It's alright.”

“It's just, you know…” Miguel starts, rubbing his neck. “I didn't realize that was there. I don't want you to feel weirded out.”

“I could never,” you answer smelling the flowers again and looking so lovely doing so. “Besides, you do know soul mates can be both romantic and platonic, right? So…”

So… The two of you can definitely be soul mates.

Platonically, of course.

Miguel smiles once more, his worry dissipating. “True. I got worried for no reason when I know you're so understanding, but hey, how about breakfast? Everything is hot and ready, so we can eat now.”

“I'd love some. Is there anything else we need?” you ask, glancing around the table to see if there's anything you can help with, but a gentle hand on your shoulder tells you you're not allowed to help.

“You don't need to worry about anything. I got it. Here, let me help you,” Miguel says removing his hand and pulling out a chair for you. “Please go ahead and take a seat while I fix the plates, Dulzura.” Once you're sitting, Miguel gets back to the food to fix the plates.“So, are you excited to go out with Margo and Jess?” Miguel asks since in a few hours, both Jess and Margo will be taking you out to celebrate your birthday. Miguel has no idea what the plan is, though, since it's a surprise and also a tactic to get you out of the penthouse for a little while to give Miguel and the others time to pull together the party.

Back in the start of November, Miguel decided that he wanted to do this for you and because he knows how much you love and appreciate the spider gang, Miguel felt it was right to invite them to be part of the plan. Not surprising, everyone was on board and the planning soon began. Jess and Margo immediately decided that they'd be the ones to successfully keep you out of the penthouse. He agreed that they were perfect for the task because everyone else seemed less likely to pull it off.

Everything should go to plan, however, so Miguel sits next to you to enjoy breakfast with you.

-♡-

A few hours later, Miguel sees you off. He waves bye as you leave with Jess and Margo, having no clue what he's planning.

As soon as he gives the green light, everyone arrives to help.

With some of your friends working on decorating and Hobie and Pav off to pick up the cake, Miguel cooks with efficiency to prepare the food. He's probably doing a little too much, but considering this is the first surprise party you've had in years and the fact that you haven't truly celebrated since joining the Spider Society, Miguel wants to do this for you. You deserve to be celebrated on your special day, the day you blessed the world with your existence. And, him.

Taking a break from somewhere nearby, Peter looks around the penthouse as little Mayday helps with some balloons. He didn't know until a few months ago that the two of you continued to live together, even when your apartment was ready. In fact, he learned about the arrangement when you informed him that your building was sold off to some company, an update he was saddened to hear because he knows how much that place meant to you. Either way, the entire friend group and him found out about this new update that was somewhat surprising, yet not entirely.

To Peter, it's been clear for years at this point that Miguel and you compliment each other so much. So, he shouldn't be surprised at how homey the penthouse looks and feels, yet he still is because this feels different from just two roommates sharing a space. Typically, he feels like there's an invisible line between roommates, one that marks the territory as such, but here in the penthouse, Peter feels something different. There's a specific energy to the place that tells him that you've both made this penthouse a true home. He can't say it out loud, but it feels as though Miguel and you are a little family of your own.

Smiling, Peter returns to decorating, but not before taking one glance at Miguel, who is still cooking and preparing your favorite foods with so much love, it's hard to remember that there was a time in which Miguel barely set foot in his own home.

-♡-

Almost three hours later, your friends drop you back off to the penthouse. You all slip into the penthouse through a window in the living room, looking around for Miguel.

“I still can't get over how cute you guys decorated,” Margo says, admiring the Christmas tree.

“Thank you! Miguel and I love how it turned out,” you reply, wondering where's Miguel since he seems to be nowhere.

“I wonder if Miguel went out to get something. Groceries, maybe?” Jess states, saying that to purposely lead you to the dining and kitchen area, which she succeeds at.

“We have groceries, but perhaps he needed something —” you start before the rest of your friends jump out from hiding as soon as you step foot in the room.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday!”

“A surprise party?” you surprisingly state with a smile, looking at Miguel who stands in the middle back. He looks handsome in a brown knitted sweater, his hair styled perfectly as always with those little curls in the back of his neck. Even from your distance, you see the shine of your matching bracelets on his wrist. Feeling incredibly grateful and touched, you give everyone a hug and thank them for coming before you reach Miguel.

You're uncertain if you're allowed to hug him in front of everyone. For all you know, some of your friends may attempt to go for it, too, when he's only open to giving and receiving hugs from you.

To avoid any issues, you smile warmly and offer your pinky finger, which Miguel immediately hugs with his own. “Happy Birthday,” Miguel murmurs with a smile.

“Thank you, thank you. You did this, huh? Got me out of the home for this?” you ask with an amused smile.

“Mhm, I've been planning it for weeks and got our friends involved. Everyone helped in one way or another.”

“You’re all so kind and sweet, going through the trouble of planning this lovely surprise,” you answer as you take in the decorations all throughout the dining room. A decorative banner hangs from the windows and balloons decorate the walls and other areas of the room. On the ceiling, garlands with cute stars, moons, and suns in gold hang in a zigzag pattern. Even the table has been decorated with a different tablecloth and with other cute decorations. To the side, a dessert table has also been set up with various choices for everyone, including a two-tier cake. “Aww, this is so lovely. I love everything you guys did!”

“It was no trouble at all and you… You deserve it,” Miguel answers, giving your pinky a gentle squeeze. “Oh, and for food, I made all your favorites. Come, we can all start eating now.”

With that, you and your friends celebrate your birthday over the delicious food Miguel made. Laughter, conversation, and music from Miguel's record player fills the penthouse. When it's time, Miguel lights the candles on the cake, so your friends surround you to sing “Happy Birthday” while wearing party hats that Miguel bought. And yes, even Miguel put one on after he slipped a headband into your hair for pictures, which were taken by both Miguel and Lyla with the latter stating she'll be adding them to her personal file that neither Miguel nor you have found.

After a few hours, your friends say their goodbyes with nicely packaged leftovers because Miguel made quite a lot of food. The birthday decorations are left up with the promise that they'll be taken down tomorrow.

In the early evening, you sit in the living room by yourself. The fireplace crackles, its flames dancing like two lovers in the dead of night. On the windows, the twinkling lights flash on and off in a soothing pattern. The Christmas tree sits in its spot, taking the most space and attention while bringing a certain coziness only such a Christmas tree can bring.

Watching the tree in silence and now dressed in pajamas, you reflect on the day. You’re another year older and somehow, you made it unscathed physically. You’re in good health and surrounded by people that love and cherish you, so you have no complaints.

You made it far longer than you thought you would when you first started the whole Spider-Woman thing, which is a blessing on its own. The thought that it’s probably thanks to your guardian angels brings a smile to your face. Silently, you send them a thank you for keeping you safe and granting you all these beautiful people and moments in your life.

As if on cue, you hear Miguel’s steps from the kitchen, where he went into half an hour ago to do “something”. Glancing at him, you find him carrying a large tray to you.

“So…” Miguel starts, placing the tray on the coffee table before sitting down on the floor next to you. He’s also now dressed in far more relaxing clothes, which consist of a long-sleeve thermal shirt that does nothing to hide his physique from his wide shoulders to his large biceps to his chiseled chest. For bottoms, Miguel has changed into comfy sweats.

With a swallow, you tear your gaze away from his clothes and focus on the tray, which has several items.

“I thought about baking you a big cake, like the one I ordered,” Miguel admits, giving you a cheeky smile. “But I quickly remembered that I’m not the baker in this home and I didn’t want to end up wasting ingredients on a failed cake of that size, hence why I had it made at the bakery. I’m also sure Hobie and Peter would’ve never let me live that down. However, I still wanted to bake something just for you,” Miguel continues, removing a cloth towel and revealing a glass domed cake plate with a round cake inside that looks like Miguel poured his entire heart into.

The cake, which you’re certain is in your favorite flavor, has its exterior decorated with icing that you can immediately tell is homemade. Miguel opted for a rustic art style, making the spatula prints clean and intentional. Fresh strawberries sliced in half carefully decorate the edge of the cake, standing out against the icing. And, in his careful writing, Miguel has written out “Happy Birthday, Dulzura” with icing in your favorite color.

Next to the cake, two mugs of café de olla are full to the brim with the delicious and hot beverage that you crave even more with the festive season [coffee].

Looking up at Miguel, you offer a tender and warm smile, touched by his gesture. “It turned out so cute,” you tell Miguel as he takes the lid off. “So homey. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for the cake! And, you even added strawberries!”

“Your favorite,” Miguel murmurs as he pulls out a lighter. “I know you already did this, but I don’t know if you want to do it again?” he asks, raising the candles to show them to you.

How can you not when he’s gone through the trouble of baking a cake and bringing the candles with him? “I’d love to,” you answer, so Miguel quickly places them in a good place and lights them up after moving the cake closer to you for better access.

On his own, Miguel sings “Happy Birthday” to you in Spanish again with a smile so sweet and tender, it puts the cake’s sweetness to shame. When he’s done cheering, he gestures with his head. “Make a wish, Dulzura,” he murmurs.

With a soft sigh, you glance at the flickering candles. There's no need to think about your wish because it comes to you quickly, like an instinct buried deep within you. Gently, you blow the candles with that wish in mind while gazing at Miguel.

I wish, with all my heart, that you're always in my life, Miguel. Until my very last day, whether that's tomorrow or in fifty years from now.

With a smile, Miguel cheers when you blow the candle.

“I suppose I shouldn’t waste my time wondering what you wished for, Dulz?” Lyla asks, suddenly appearing out of thin air.

“We don’t ask what we wish for on our birthdays. You already know the drill,” Miguel states, turning to look at you. “Even if we’re curious to know.”

Chuckling, you look away and grab the knife to cut the cake. “It won’t happen if I share it and I’m not risking it, so… No sharing,” you explain, avoiding Miguel’s gaze as he watches you.

With a small smile, Miguel lets it go out of respect. Though… He’s curious. He noticed you staring at him as you made your wish and that, well, that makes Miguel hope that you possibly kept him in mind in your wish the same way he did for his. For two years in a row, he's asked for the same wish: that you're there with him in every single one of his birthdays for the rest of his life. So far, it seems to be working, so Miguel is thankful.

Shaking his head, Miguel scoots closer and prepares the plates. “Alright, time for the birthday girl to cut the cake. Queremos pastel [we want cake],” he says excitedly. “Hopefully, it’s good,” he adds sheepishly.

“Don’t you worry about that,” you respond with an amused smile. “It looks and smells amazing, and I have no doubt that it’s good. Besides… You’re a man of science and baking is science, so I know you got this,” you add with a little wink that makes Miguel’s heart flutter.

“Oh, is that so?” he asks softly.

“Yep,” you reply with a cheeky smile as you prepare to cut the cake.

“Queremos pastel,” Lyla says in a sing song voice. “Come on, Dulz, slice the cake!”

“Alright, alright,” you state, as both Miguel and Lyla repeat the same phrase. Once you make the first cut, the two of them clap and cheer, celebrating you. With practice, you fix two plates for the two of you.

“And, of course, I couldn’t skip your favorite,” Miguel says, grabbing one mug and placing it next to your plate. “Perfect with cake.”

Carefully, you take a sip and sigh in satisfaction, going as far as to closing your eyes to savor the flavor. “Mmm, you’re spoiling me,” you murmur sweetly. “A personal cake baked by you and then, café de olla? Spoiling me, I’m telling you. Thank you,” you add softly, smiling at Miguel. “This… This means so much to me. From the amazing breakfast to the surprise party to this,” you gesture towards the coffee table. “And, it means so much more to me that I have the privilege of sharing today with you. That you… That you’ve done all of this for me.” Still smiling, you nod to yourself. “I feel… Deeply happy and loved. And I want to thank you for that, Solecito. Thank you so much,” you whisper tenderly.

With his own smile, Miguel nods. “Dulzura… You already know,” he starts softly, lowering his fork. “You know what you mean to me, so I wanted to make today extra special for you… Always.”

“Always,” you whisper with a smile as the two of you gaze at each other for a few seconds until you can’t bear it anymore. You look away and take a subtle yet desperate sip of coffee to wash down the knot that’s formed in your throat.

Damn you and your emotional self. All you want to do now is hug Miguel really tight and sob out of love and appreciation for him on his shoulder, but you know Miguel wouldn’t appreciate you crying on your very own birthday, so you put on a brave face and continue the intimate celebration by eating the cake Miguel baked just for you.

When you’re both done eating your slices, you sneakily take an extra strawberry off the cake, making Miguel laugh. “We have a strawberry thief,” he points out.

“In my defense, they’re my favorite and they're so sweet,” you murmur before taking a bite.

“Like you,” Miguel replies without thinking before he realizes what he said. He holds his breath, wondering what your reaction will be.

Slowly, you lower the half eaten strawberry and give Miguel the cutest shy smile. It’s unfair, Miguel decides, how you dare look at him like that when you’re sitting next to him in your pajamas and the gentle glow of the Christmas lights making you look like an angel sent for him alone.

“That’s sweet of you, thank you,” you reply shyly.

“I — Yes,” Miguel responds, his cheeks growing red. “You’re most welcome. Um… Oh,” Miguel straightens up and reaches under the couch you’re both sitting against, trying to pull himself together. “I have two surprises for you,” he says, retrieving a jewelry-sized box wrapped nicely and offering it to you. “The first one. Please, open it.”

“Ooh, Migs,” you murmur as you take the box in your hands. “You really shouldn’t have. I mean… You did all of this for me already. I don’t need anything else than you and our friends being together, truly.”

“I know, but, I still wanted to get you something. Please,” Miguel murmurs, gently pushing the box closer to you. “It’s just a little something I hope you love. Please, open it.”

With a soft sigh and a smile, you unwrap the box with care until the box is fully revealed. You gaze up at Miguel one last time before opening it, finding him smiling at you with clear anticipation. He nods, silently urging you to open it. Biting your bottom lip, you open the box at last.

Immediately, your expression softens at the sight of the item inside the velvet box. For a few seconds, your lips are parted in awe as you gaze at the “little something” Miguel has gifted you. “Oh,” you murmur, as you carefully take out the jewelry piece. In both your palms, you hold a beautiful gold heart locket with delicacy. “Miguel… It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, running a thumb over the front where your nickname — Miguel’s nickname for you — has been engraved: Dulzura.

“I… I saw it,” Miguel murmurs, watching the way you’re holding the locket and the look on your face of pure tenderness. “And once I did, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. It’s pure gold,” Miguel shares with a smile. “From Mexico. I ordered it a while back to make sure it arrived on time. And, I had your nickname engraved on it, so that took a little more time. I hope you don’t mind that I used your nickname instead of your name,” he adds.

“God, no ,” you respond, looking up at him. “I love it. It’s perfect. More than perfect. It’s so lovely, Miguel, truly. I’ve never owned a locket, so this gift?” You smile with giddiness and bring the locket to your chest, looking so adorable Miguel’s gaze softens at the sight. “I love it. Thank you!”

“I’m so happy you love it,” Miguel answers, feeling more than happiness with your reaction. “Oh, and I added a photo, but feel free to change it if you want,” he says, almost forgetting that detail.

Not needing to be told twice, you open the locket and smile with so much more tenderness, if that’s even possible. Inside the locket, a picture of Miguel and you greets your eyes. It’s a photo that was taken only a few months ago when you two went out for yogurt. On a whim, you decided to take a picture for which Miguel had to significantly lower himself so his face would be in frame.

“From one of our yogurt adventures,” Miguel says.

“One of many,” you add with a smile. “It’s perfect. No need to change the photo. Thank you so much, Solecito.” Lifting your gaze, your want — no, need — to hug Miguel grows. “Mind helping me?” you ask, raising the locket.

“It’d be my pleasure,” Miguel answers, taking the locket from you and preparing it while you fix your top and hair, so they’re out of the way. With care, Miguel helps you put on the necklace. His focus wavers, however, when his fingers brush against the soft skin of your neck and to add to the distraction, there’s your sweet scent that embraces him like a warm and comforting blanket, one you never want to take off.

“Um, there we go,” Miguel murmurs once he successfully locks the locket in place. Reluctantly, his fingers move away, allowing the locket to fall naturally over your upper chest. “All done.”

With a smile, you turn back around and look down at it. With the way you deliberately run your fingers over it, Miguel has no doubt you truly love the gift, something that brings him a deep, deep satisfaction.

“Well, since you loved the locket… Time for the second and last surprise I have for you,” Miguel says with a smile after a few seconds. He reaches under the couch again, which makes you laugh.

“Am I that predictable that you knew I’d be sitting here by the end of the day?” you question.

Miguel snorts quietly as his hand moves under the couch. “No, but I do know you. I know your favorite spot is this one right here,” he says giving you a cheeky smile before he pulls out what he’s looking for.

As soon as you see the guitar, your eyes widen in surprise and delight. Miguel is playing the guitar for you on your birthday?!

“I don’t do this often,” Miguel explains as he gets in position to start playing. “As you know… I only play the guitar on special occasions… For special people,” he murmurs, slowly lifting his gaze to meet yours. “And so, I want to sing you a song, if that’s alright?”

If that’s alright? You almost scoff in disbelief at Miguel’s question. “You know it’s more than alright,” you answer sitting back. “Please… It’d mean the world to me.”

With a small nod, Miguel begins to play the first notes on his guitar, but his fingers mess up after a few seconds. Sheepishly, Miguel apologizes for the mistake. He literally practiced over the last few days while you were out on patrol and he played the song perfectly, but now that it’s time for the real thing, his fingers seem to have forgotten the notes. God, he can’t even run through the lyrics in his head after the third line. “I seem to have forgotten the lyrics?” Miguel states, sounding more like a question. He sighs in frustration at himself before a song comes to mind. It comes to him so suddenly, it feels like someone whispered it in his ear to sing it. “I can only think of one song right now, but it’s not the one I had planned to sing. I'm sorry,” Miguel apologizes, frowning.

“Migs, don’t worry about it,” you assure him. “Why don’t you sing the song you’re thinking about? Whatever song it is, I’m going to appreciate it. It’s not every day I get to hear you sing, so I’ll cherish it all the same.”

“It’s just…” Miguel trails off, his cheeks reddening once more. “The song is typically for, um, you know, people that are… Together,” Miguel explains nervously. “Romantically, I mean, but it could still apply for best friends, if you’re not uncomfortable with it? Or, I can just wait it out.”

“I don’t mind,” you answer softly. “I’ll love it regardless. If you’re worried I’ll be offended or something like that, I won’t. Trust me. If you’re open to singing it, please go ahead.”

With a heavy sigh, Miguel nods slowly and positions the guitar again. He can’t believe this is happening now, not after he practiced to surprise you, but with your enthusiasm to hear him sing and play, Miguel pushes past his embarrassment and starts to play the guitar.

Even though he didn’t practice this new song, Miguel plays the notes as if he did. Effortlessly, his fingers move with practice before he begins singing in his rich and gentle voice.

“No existe un momento del día, en que pueda apartarme de ti. El mundo parece distinto, cuando no estás junto a mi… No hay bella melodía, en que no surjas tú. Ni yo quiero escucharla, si no la escuchas tú [There isn’t a moment in the day, in which I can be away from you. The world seems different, when you’re not next to me… There’s no beautiful melody, in which you don’t appear. Nor do I want to hear it, if you don’t hear it],” Miguel sings beautifully, slowly lifting his gaze to meet yours as his fingers move on their own accord. Inside his chest, Miguel feels his heart racing as the words slip from his mouth, straight from within his very soul.

Hearing Miguel’s lovely voice, you’re unable to tear your gaze away from Miguel’s as he sings to you. Your eyes are locked on him, even when you begin to feel breathless. It’s not just that, though. A feeling in your chest, like that of flowers blossoming in May, grows with a great intensity. Under the locket Miguel has gifted you, your pulse flutters with his voice.

“Es que te has convertido, en parte de mi alma… Ya nada me consuela, si no estás tú también. Más allá de tus labios, del sol y las estrellas… Contigo en la distancia, amada mía, estoy… [You’ve become, part of my soul… Nothing else consoles me, if you’re not there, too. Beyond your lips, the sun and the stars… With you in the distance, my beloved, I’m there],” Miguel continues, unable to look away from your gaze, too. His fingers continue to move against the strings without even thinking about it. All he can do is gaze at you and sing the words that spill from his lips like a promise. Nothing else matters. Nothing else captures his eyes. Everything blurs in the background, except for you. You're crystal clear as you sit front and center, staring back at him with parted lips and your fingers clutching the locket as he almost reaches the end of the song.

“En parte de mi alma… Ya nada me consuela si no estás tú también. Más allá de tus labios, del sol y las estrellas… Contigo en la distancia, mi Dulzura, estoy… [Part of my soul… Nothing else consoles me, if you’re not there, too. Beyond your lips, the sun and the stars… With you in the distance, my Dulzura, I’m there],” Miguel sings, concluding the song with soft notes from his guitar. Ever so slowly, he lowers the guitar and offers you a tender smile, realizing only a few seconds later that he changed the original lyrics from “my beloved” to “my Dulzura” at the end. Miguel quickly rationalizes it.

He did give you the nickname. You are his best friend. No one else calls you Dulzura, except him. No one else has the privilege to address you as such because it’s his nickname for you, so that’s why he did that without thinking about it. It’s a perfectly normal change for a song that can be used for best friends, too. Surely, someone else has used it in this platonic context…

Miguel doesn’t get anymore time to worry over this, thankfully, because you’re suddenly, but gently, taking away his guitar. Confused by his own actions regarding the lyric change and now yours, Miguel watches you place the guitar on the couch to keep it safe before you hug him. His eyes widen in surprise only for a second — one single second — before he embraces you, too. His eyes close as your head settles on his shoulder, allowing him to rest his own on yours. With his arms wrapped around your body entirely, Miguel relaxes.

After everything he's been through, Miguel believes there’s a heaven and he’s certain this is what it feels like to be there.

Safe. Comforting. Heavenly.

Like home.

“Thank you,” you sweetly and softly whisper, so softly as if you’re afraid that the walls themselves can hear those words that are just for him and him alone. “That was beautiful, mi Solecito [my little sun]. So beautiful. I’m eternally grateful that we met,” you continue, hugging Miguel just a little tighter. “You’re… You’re my best friend. And I hope you don’t find it weird, but… I believe we were meant to meet and be in each other's lives,” you whisper, allowing those words from your soul to spill freely, which earn yourself a gentle squeeze from Miguel. With closed eyes, you don’t dare say the other words threatening to leave your lips; that Miguel and you are soul mates. Platonically, of course, because you two are only best friends, but still. “With you in the distance, mi Solecito,” you continue. “I’m there, too… Always.”

“Always,” Miguel whispers back, still holding you close to him protectively.

Outside, the world continues forward. The first snow of the season begins, covering every surface in white, but that doesn’t stop the busy city. Traffic continues, lights flash here and everywhere, and people go on with their lives.

Inside the penthouse, however, time moves at a different and slower pace. The lights and the dancing flames from the fireplace cast a warm glow to the beautiful snow globe-like scene that is Miguel and you embracing.

Beyond this beautiful bubble of yours, nothing else seems to matter in this moment.

“Happy Birthday, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers yet again, silently hoping that this embrace lasts just a bit longer, especially when the world seems so different with you in his arms. And, when the warmth of your body, the sweet and comforting scent that is so uniquely yours, and your divine existence inspire a beautiful melody within his heart. One so beautiful, Miguel longs to share it with you.

Note: Hiiii! I meant to do a little one-shot of Miguel celebrating Dulzura's birthday since I already did one for Miguel's birthday last year, but it wasn't possible. This year, however, I was literally like, "me tengo que poner las pilas 😭😭" (I need to put the batteries on = get it together), so here it is. I hope you guys like this because RAHHHH MIGUEL GIFTING US A HEART LOCKET AND SINGING A ROMANTIC SONG TO US??? I almost gave myself cavities from how sweet that was. (I need NC Miguel so badly😭) I was also a little selfish and greedy by making Dulzura's birthday my own (today) and I'm sorry, but...

I needed this little one-shot. 🥺

So, I hope you guys enjoyed this short update for NC, which takes place months ahead of the last official chapter (24). I just want to mention that to avoid confusing anyone. :)

That's all from me for now. Thank you so much for reading!

Alondra❤️

The chill of the laboratory greets you as you push open the door. Thankfully, you have your lab coat to keep you warm and if necessary, you have an extra sweater hidden away in the bottom drawer of your desk. The only sound that reaches your ears is that of your footsteps as you walk further inside, but without even seeing him yet, you know he’s watching from somewhere within his tank.

He always does. Despite usually being stoic, he’s rather curious.

With your hands in your lab coat’s pockets, you reach your computer and turn it on to start the work day. It’s another day of researching the merman — the one currently watching you from somewhere within his tank — who willingly volunteered to the human government for research and education purposes. About half a year ago, it was discovered that mermaids and merman exist after all. It’s no longer just a myth, or a fictional princess story by a multinational entertainment conglomerate. To establish a connection with your kind, the kingdom of the sea decided that one of their own was to go to the lab you work at. And so, the mer kingdom approved for one of their princes, that is, Prince Miguel O’Hara, who is next in line for the throne, to volunteer.

You lift your gaze towards the large tank, which makes up the majority of this floor, in hopes of spotting him, but as always, he hides so well in the container that has been his home for four months now. The government used up a large budget for his tank alone. It needed to be large to allow Miguel to swim freely and, of course, to hunt the fishes that were incorporated so he can sustain himself. Seashells and other items were added as a request by the prince.

With a sigh, you look away when you don’t spot Miguel anywhere and turn to look at your desk, specifically the area decorated with seashells and other trinkets. They’re not items you bought yourself for decoration purposes. No, these are all gifts from the merman himself. Every couple of days, he gives them to you. You don’t understand why, when all those items were placed in the tank for him, not for you. Either way, you’ve accepted them, of course. You suppose it’s Miguel’s way of… Showing respect to you?

At least, you think he respects you since he’s allowed you to be the leading scientist running the research. Or, rather, he’s only permitted you to be the researcher. No one else is allowed in the lab. No one else is to run tests on him. Unlike with you, Miguel showed little patience with the previous scientists that were initially assigned to work with him. He ran them out with his impatient, cold, and stoic personality. Then, there’s also his powerful strength, since mer people are much stronger than humans are.

You remember the fearful scientists saying they wished the mer kingdom had sent a smaller male. It’s funny, considering even the “smaller” mer males are big, but Miguel… Miguel is above average. He’s one of the largest of his kind, measuring nearly eight feet tall with a large tail that with one flick alone, can leave you soaking wet. You know that because the scientists told you so, as they stood before with dripping clothes thanks to Miguel’s antics.

Thankfully, you haven’t experienced that. Instead, you’ve experienced a merman who seems to practice patience with you. There’s also the curiosity aspect. You know he watches you because Miguel has one of those gazes, the kind you feel on every single inch of your body. You’ve only ever caught him watching you once, and you’re certain it was because he allowed and wanted you to.

After quickly logging in, you begin to approach the tank, wondering from where Miguel will pop out from.

He suddenly appears at the edge of the tank, water dripping down his face and chiseled torso. He rests his arms on the tank’s edge and watches you with those crimson eyes you’ve grown used to over the weeks you’ve been working with him.

“Human,” Miguel states with his usual tone of aloofness and addressing you as “human” despite knowing your name.

“Miguel,” you greet him, offering a small smile. “Good morning.”

“Is there anything good about this morning?” he asks.

“Well, we both woke up and got to see another day. I think that’s enough to make it a good one, no?”

Miguel scoffs, still watching you. “You are… Optimistic as always.”

And he’s as grumpy as always. You don’t voice that, of course.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you,” you reply.

“Mmhp, do whatever you wish, human,” Miguel replies with a grunt. “What are you doing to me today? Poking me with your needles, pressing your equipment to my chest to measure my heartbeat, or drawing my blood?”

“Well, it seems today we have a routine check-up,” you answer, which makes Miguel even more grumpy.

“Another check-up? Nothing ever changes, you know,” Miguel mutters in annoyance, crossing his large and muscular arms across his wide and chiseled chest.

“I know, which is a good thing, but these are a requirement. We must ensure that your health remains steady. You must remember, this tank was built to ensure your health is not negatively impacted. It’s comfortable, maybe enough to feel a bit like home, or to, at least, simulate your home, but it’s not. It’s still a tank at the end of the day, and this could impact your health.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Miguel grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Come up here and do it, then.”

“I need to get my clipboard. One second,” you reply, returning to your desk to collect what you need. In seconds, you’re climbing the ladder to reach the platform designed for these procedures. “Alright,” you state, kneeling on the platform to do the check-up.

With ease, Miguel swims towards the platform and stops in front of you. With you kneeling, Miguel easily looms over you, but you’ve long decided that this is best. It feels better than standing over Miguel and, to you, it helps give Miguel the impression that you’re comfortable around him to kneel and be in a vulnerable position. Whereas with you standing, it might make him feel like you don’t trust him, and that’s what you don’t want. Perhaps, this trust on your end is what’s allowed things to run smoothly between you since you were assigned to him. Maybe it’s why he didn’t try to run you out with his tricks since day one.

“May I please inspect your eyes?” you ask, always asking for permission before touching or doing anything to respect Miguel.

“Yes,” Miguel answers with a sigh, annoyed he must do yet another check-up.

“Thank you. Let’s see…” you trail off, focusing on the task at hand. Your eyes meet his to see any changes to the naked eye. “Any trouble with your sight?”

“No. Perfect vision,” Miguel replies, watching you like a hawk. “I can see everything perfectly.”

“Well, that’s great,” you answer, jotting down the information. “May I see your teeth and fangs next?”

Miguel nods and opens his mouth, revealing his teeth and long fangs. You hum, taking a look. “Very well. No aches?”

“None. Just like the last time and the time before that,” the grumpy merman answers.

“Glad to hear it. Toothache is no joke,” you reply, quickly scribbling the answer.

“Well, good thing you have your tooth doctors, no?” Miguel asks with a huff.

“The dentists, yes,” you answer with furrowed eyebrows.

Miguel grunts, slightly leaning closer. He inhales subtly before his eyes narrow. “You smell like someone I’ve smelled before.”

“What?” you ask, pausing your writing.

“I said you smell like someone I’ve smelled before. A human male. What’s his name? That annoying human… Peter,” Miguel grumbles.

“Peter — Oh, um, I smell like him?” you ask, confused. “I ran into him at the front office. He uses a strong cologne.”

“Yes, I’m aware. He made it everyone’s business,” Miguel continues, glaring. “You should take off your lab coat. It reeks of him.”

“I didn’t know you have such a delicate nose,” you respond, slipping off the lab coat since you can tell it’s bothering him.

“Well, I do,” he grumbles, eyeing the lab coat with displeasure because of your coworker’s lingering cologne. “Are you sure you only ran into him? Smells like you hugged him, or something,” Miguel states with a hint of accusation in his tone.

“I literally just talked to him about work. His cologne is overwhelming,” you explain. “Anyway, are you experiencing any muscle aches?”

“No. I’m fine,” Miguel replies, eyeing the lab coat before looking at you again.

“Perfect,” you answer. “What about your tail? Any discomfort, or abnormal changes?”

“Looks and feels the same,” Miguel simply answers. “Do you talk a lot with that human?”

“With Peter? Not much.”

Miguel nods. “And the others?”

“You’re rather interested in who I talk with,” you answer, doing a visual check-up of Miguel. You gulp softly as your eyes trace his wide chest and large arms.

“I am merely… Curious,” Miguel carefully phrases, lifting himself higher by using his hands as support. With him doing that, the merman looms over you even more.

You lift your eyes to his face, meeting his eyes. “That’s odd,” you state. “You, curious?”

Miguel scoffs, his arms flexing as he continues to support himself. You don’t really understand why he does this sometimes. You do know, however, that if there were any men around — human or merman — they’d likely be jealous of his physique. “I have something for you,” Miguel says suddenly, lowering himself and slipping under the water like nothing. A few seconds later, he resurfaces with a rock. He extends his hand out, ready to hand you yet another gift.

You carefully accept it in your much smaller hand and inspect it with a smile. “Hey, it’s a heart-shaped rock. The odds of finding one in this shape in your tank are very low, but seems like you found one, hm? Thank you. I’ll add it to my collection,” you promise, gently rubbing a thumb over it to appreciate the texture.

Watching intently, Miguel takes in your reaction. If only you knew that there was no heart-shaped rock until he carved it.

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you again,” you continue, giving it one last rub before slipping the rock into your lab coat’s pocket. “So, Prince Miguel, are you ready to return home?”

Miguel grunts, glaring. “Don’t call me that. Call me Miguel, or something else.”

“You are a prince, you know,” you reply, wondering why Miguel is always so adamant about you not addressing him as such.

“I prefer if you call me Miguel. Or, even Migs. That’s what my family calls me,” he answers. “I don’t want to be addressed as such… By you.”

“And why is that?” you question, putting away your notes and pen.

“Because… You’re the only individual I’ve interacted every day with since I arrived.”

You nod and sigh. “Yes, that’s true. Had you not run off the other scientists, you’d be interacting with others, but I’m guessing you actually mean family and friends.”

“I don’t care for those humans. They were rude and entitled.” Miguel rolls his eyes as he thinks of them. He did enjoy scaring them right out of the lab after the way they were treating him without his regard. The bonus was even better; it brought you straight to him. After a few seconds, Miguel clears his throat. “As to my family and friends… I think about them every day.”

“I can imagine,” you state softly, fully understanding. “Thankfully, you only have about a month and a half left of your agreement. Once we reach that point, you’ll be back home with everyone you care about.”

“Indeed. I look forward to seeing my family, especially my youngest brother,” Miguel shares with a faraway look in his face. He misses Gabriel so much. He misses swimming for miles and miles across the ocean, racing Gabriel. He misses the feeling of community amongst the merpeople. He misses so much, yet… “What if I wish to extend my agreement?”

“Wait — what? Why would you do such a thing?” you ask in disbelief that Miguel has even voiced that question.

“You sound shocked, human.”

“That’s because I am.”

Miguel smirks and leans closer. “Why is that?”

“Because… I don’t understand why you would want to stay here any longer.” You look around at the tank before meeting his gaze once more. “This tank isn’t home.”

“I know that,” Miguel replies, staring into your eyes.

“Okay… So, surely you want to be out of this place as soon as possible and return home with family and friends. Maybe, you even left some broken hearts, hm?”

At the last statement, Miguel’s smirk drops and is replaced by a scowl. “I left no broken hearts.”

“Oh? You sound certain of that, but you’re a prince.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m automatically a heart breaker, human,” Miguel mutters in annoyance. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? I would’ve thought that a prince merman — single, by the way — would be highly sought,” you answer. You leave out the fact that Miguel is also, well… A rather attractive individual, even if you haven’t voiced that before. It’d be unprofessional since this is a professional setting. There’s also the possibility of that being weird since he’s a merman and you’re human. You’ve reassured yourself that it’s possibly not that weird, considering you live in a world in which werewolves and vampires exist, and have romantic relationships with humans.

“I don’t have time for that. I’m too busy,” Miguel answers, annoyed.

“Hmm… Too busy. So, there’s a chance you do break hearts by not having time for romance.”

“Stop,” Miguel says, staring at you. “Stop talking about being a bachelor and breaking hearts back home,” he adds, his eyes flickering to your lips, his expression almost pained.

You nod, noting the tone and realizing that this topic is clearly a sensitive one for him, so you back off. “Alright, I’m sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood. Forgive me,” you apologize genuinely, missing the way Miguel’s gaze keeps flickering to your lips, longingly.

“You don’t need… To apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…” Miguel trails off, unable to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

“I’ll give you some time alone, okay? I’ll be at my desk,” you say, beginning to move away.

“No.” Miguel quickly answers. “Don’t.”

You stare back at him in surprise. “… Alright.”

You both remain quiet — you kneeling on the platform and Miguel leaning over it, in front of you. “So… Are you actually considering extending your agreement?” you ask curiously. A part of you is in disbelief about that, yet, a part of you feels a weird sense of happiness that you’ll continued to be in his presence.

“Maybe,” Miguel answers, watching you without missing a second.

“Why?” you genuinely ask. “When you can swim freely again and not deal with annoying humans.”

Miguel snorts, unable to stop the crack in his stoic expression. He sighs after a few seconds of silence. “I miss home. I miss swimming for miles and miles. I miss my family and friends, but… I’ve been thinking about something a little more. Something that’s missing. That I'm missing,” Miguel confesses, still gazing at you.

“Oh,” you simply say, wondering what it could be. Mentally, you decide it must be important if Miguel is allowing himself to be vulnerable right now. “What is it that you’re missing?”

“Something… Something I’ve been needing for a while.”

For a good minute or so, you remain silent and consider the possibilities. Miguel has stated that he misses his family, friends, and the ocean, but there's something else missing. You've already suggested him having someone special in a romantic sense, but he asked you to stop talking about it.

“Something you've been needing,” you repeat slowly, your brain running. “Wait… Do you mean a mate?” you ask carefully since you know merpeople have mating bonds. Miguel hasn't shared much about the process, just that an individual courts another one and it's up to that person to accept the courtship.

Miguel's face changes once you mention the word mate, confirming your guess. “Yes. A mate,” he states, staring straight at you.

Understanding, you nod slowly. “I understand… I have no doubt that once you return home, you'll be able to find a lovely mate.”

Miguel makes a noise, still looking at you. “Do you want to know something?”

“… yes,” you answer, curious.

“I’ve already started a courtship,” Miguel suddenly reveals, leaving you incredulous. This is the first time he's mentioned this and the new piece of information, for some reason, sends a ripple of disappointment across your chest, one that you quickly decide is due to Miguel not trusting you enough to tell you about it and not for any other reason.

“You — you have?” you manage to ask after what feels like minutes despite only a few seconds passing.

“I do,” Miguel confirms, giving you nothing else.

“Well… I'm sorry your courtship has been paused due to this research thing. Someone else should've been sent, so you could've continued it. Though, I'm sure whoever it is, is eagerly waiting for your return,” you genuinely offer, hoping to reassure Miguel if he's having doubts, especially when he's said he’s missing a mate.

“That is kind of you, preciosa [precious],” Miguel replies, this time using another nickname besides “human”. You know exactly what it means: precious. He's never called you that before, though. “However, my courtship hasn't ended nor has it been paused.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, something Miguel notes. “It hasn’t been on pause? But how, if you’re here?”

“No. It hasn't.” Miguel smirks slightly, taking in your expression. “I haven't told you how courtship works for our kind, have I?” he asks rhetorically, because of course, he knows he hasn’t.

“No, you haven’t. You’ve only told me that a merperson starts the courtship and the second person has to decide whether they accept it, or not.”

“Mhm…” Miguel hums in confirmation, gripping the platform you're still kneeling on with his large hands. “For example, a merman wanting to court someone usually displays a different behavior for that person. Perhaps, they're too serious, but with the person they wish to court, they're more open. Or, they could be more on the impatient side, but with that person, they demonstrate patience.”

That sounds oddly familiar to you, but your brain refuses to connect the dots.

“A merman makes his courtship known to the person by gifting them items… Seashells, rocks, and other trinkets they may find in the vast ocean — a symbol they wish to mate.”

The heart-shaped rock in your coat's pocket suddenly feels heavy. An image of your desk decorated with various gifts from Miguel pops in your head. If you connect that dot to the fact that Miguel has displayed different behavior with you than he did towards the previous scientists…

“My courtship hasn't been paused,” Miguel carefully starts. “Because… You are my courtship.”

“I’m sorry — What?” you say in complete shock. Eyes wide, you shake your head. “No, that can't be.”

“It is so,” Miguel replies calmly and in a tone that lets you know that he means it. He’s not fooling around with this. “You’re who I'm courting.”

“I'm human. That can’t be. It just can’t.”

“I know that very well, sweet human,” Miguel answers. “Do you think I care? The answer is no. I don't. I've been courting you since the second week we met. Four months.”

“But I'm human. You dislike humans, so —”

“I disliked the scientists before you. They were rude and entitled. They forgot I'm doing this willingly, expecting respect as an individual nonetheless. They started to poke and prod me without any consent. It was why I ran them out and then, you came along and you were different.” Miguel explains, leaning closer to you. “Right from the moment you walked in… Your scent hypnotized me,” he says, inhaling softly and closing his eyes for a second, as if to truly appreciate it. “I'd replace the ocean with your scent, if I could. Swim in it every day.”

You swallow softly as Miguel's words sink, the word “mate” echoing in your head. Miguel wants you as his mate; as his wife.

“And your personality…” Miguel continues, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes. “You looked at me without fear nor distaste. You didn't work around me as if you were walking on seashells. You looked at me with respect and respected my boundaries from the start. Your gentle and kind demeanor,” he states, slowly lifting a hand to your face. Carefully, he glides a finger under your chin before cupping your cheek.

The act catches you by pure surprise, leaving you frozen as he caresses your cheek.

“So soft,” Miguel murmurs. “Just how I imagined your skin would feel.”

“Miguel, this can’t be because —” you start, trying to reason with him despite your heart racing.

“Because you’re human and I’m a merman, yes, yes. I know your argument,” Miguel interrupts you with a scoff. “There are stories, both from your kind and mine; stories about humans and merfolk being together as a couple. Those are not myths,” he reveals. “They’ve been rare because my kind has been hidden for thousands of years, but they exist.”

“I can’t —” you shake your head, trying to make sense of this. “This is too much. I need to go.”

You attempt to move, but Miguel suddenly holds on to your arm, keeping you still.

“You feel something for me, too,” Miguel declares. “I know it.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” you reply defensively.

“No?” Miguel questions with a small smirk, his hand gliding up your arm and sending shivers up your body. “You’re so smart, mi vida [my life], and you haven’t realized it yet, have you?”

“Realized what?”

“Your body betrays you,” Miguel murmurs, leaning closer. His crimson eyes stare right into yours, not allowing you to evade his gaze. “Your heart races every time you come near me. There are two options for that. Fear or attraction, and I know you don’t fear me.” Miguel’s hand moves to your face again, cupping your cheek. “Your scent is another giveaway. Even from your desk, I can smell you. When you come near me…” he trails off in a whisper, so close now that he decides to run his nose up your cheek, inhaling. “Your scent changes. It’s like you’re begging me to take you with how sweet you smell.”

Exhaling softly from your mouth, you close your eyes and realize Miguel is saying nothing but the truth. All this time — day after day — you’ve been refusing to see the reality. You’ve ignored the signs, even when you noted yourself out of breath due to the close proximity. It was stupid, but you blamed it on the physical activity of walking so much around the lab, or climbing the tank to reach him. The truth is that your heart races because of Miguel. And when you’ve discovered your panties are soaked when you use the bathroom while you’re here at work, you’ve chalked it up to the organ doing organ things. The truth is, your panties are soaked for another reason and that reason is called Miguel.

“Your heart is racing, preciosa,” Miguel whispers in your ear. “And Gods… You smell heavenly right now,” he continues in a strangled voice. “The things I want to do to you. The way I need to worship you.”

“I —” you start, swallowing. “I will admit that I’ve felt things, but this can’t happen.”

“Why not? You and I both want this,” Miguel retorts, frowning. “I can smell your arousal.” With that, Miguel runs his nose over your cheek again. “Do you know how torturous it has been to be able to smell you like this? To know your body needs me the same way I need you, but you’re so blind to see it, I’ve had to act like it doesn’t affect me,” Miguel desperately says. “I must act stoic when I want to do so much to you. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to kiss you senseless. I want to have you under me, moaning my name as I make you mine.”

That sends a rush of heat to your lower regions, but you hold on to logic. Or, attempt to. “No, no, no — There are ethics. I’m a scientist and I’m the person running the research about you. It’s not professional nor ethical, don’t you understand?” you ask, though you’re not sure if you’re only saying this to convince Miguel alone, or if you’re trying to stop yourself from doing something.

“Ethics, ethics, ethics,” Miguel grumbles, pulling you right into him by wrapping his arms around you. “You humans and your ethics. I don’t care right now. I don’t care at all. You’re not taking advantage of me, if that’s your concern. I consent. I need you, mi vida,” Miguel murmurs, suddenly lifting you higher up by your hips. “I need you like I need water. Forget your ethics. Forget everything else. You’re the woman I need. The woman I wish to make my mate.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” you whisper. “I’m human and you’re a merman. This wouldn’t work.”

Miguel pulls back to look into your eyes. “Do you think I haven’t thought about that? I’ve had more than enough time in this tank to think and I have a solution. We can make this work. First, if you’re worry about a human and merperson relationship, must I remind you vampires and werewolves walk amongst you? Humans have relationships with them. They’ve married and have families. This is no different.” Miguel states, making a fair point — one you’ve thought about subconsciously before. “I know it’s easy to think this isn’t possible. Not when you’re a human and can’t thrive in the water, and I’m the opposite, but there are ways and I’m willing to do anything for us,” Miguel confesses, his eyes pleading. “There are sea witches that have magic.”

“What?” you ask in disbelief.

“I’ll tell you more about them later, but they exist,” Miguel states with a firm nod. “They have magic that has allowed many of our kind to walk amongst you before; those curious to see the land. My family is in good terms with them. It would take nothing to ask for potions and spells for us. For me to walk with you,” he continues. “To see your world. The same goes for you to see my world; to swim and live underwater for some periods of time. Please,” Miguel breathlessly pleas. “Don’t lie to yourself. Don’t lie to me. Follow your heart. What does it want?”

“What…” you trail off, swallowing deeply. “What happens if the person you’re courting… Accepts?” you ask, your mind already made up.

Miguel stares at you, hope blooming in his chest. “If the person accepts the courtship, the individuals become mates for life,” Miguel gently answers, still holding you against him. “A mate is the equivalent of a wife or husband in your human terms. A ceremony takes place and rings are exchanged. You… You’d be my wife, preciosa.”

“Your wife… And you, you’d be my husband,” you state, staring at Miguel. There is no denying it. It’d be pointless to do so. Somewhere along the way, you started to develop feelings for Miguel; feelings that run so deep you’re not shooting down the idea of sea witches and the use of potions and spells to be together.

“What do you say?” Miguel whispers, his eyes flickering to your lips with longing. “What does your heart say?”

Leaning forward, you cup his face. “My heart says… That it needs you,” you whisper. “I need to kiss you.”

“I thought you’d never say so,” Miguel whispers back before he cuts the distance between you to press his lips against yours. He kisses you passionately yet tenderly with a hunger you’ve never known and you, you return it eagerly. Your body feels incredibly hot and even more so as Miguel runs a hand down your back, feeling you up. With a soft moan, you trace his back, too, feeling his muscles react under your touch.

Seconds later and panting, Miguel pulls back only to pick you off the platform completely. Carrying you in bridal style, Miguel swims away from the platform, making sure to keep you dry from the water.

“What are you doing?” you ask out of breath.

“Taking you to my little cove,” Miguel answers, reminding you that there’s a back corner of the tank that resembles one, though it’s not a real one. It was designed for Miguel, of course, to have another area besides the tank filled with water. In seconds, Miguel reaches it with his incredible speed, where he lays you down on a dry spot. Looking at him, you watch as he moves with experience on land, moving so he’s over you.

Without hesitation, you reach for him to kiss him again and this time, your hands wander. You touch his strong and wide shoulders before gliding them down his chest.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve laid here,” Miguel murmurs against your lips. “Imagining your touch. Imagining what you feel like.” He runs his hand down your side, feeling your body and growling softly. “So soft and warm,” he says reverently. “And these hips, fuck. I could watch you walk all day.”

A whine escapes your lips as Miguel grips your hip with his large hand, loving the way he’s touching you. In response, you run your nails down his chest, making him shudder in delight. “You like that,” you whisper.

“More than you know, mi vida,” Miguel replies, lowering himself to kiss your lips again before moving to kiss your neck. “You’ve been driving me crazy since I first saw you. Knew you’d be mine one day,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck before carrying on to your collarbone. Miguel continues downwards, pressing his face into your chest and inhaling. “Need this off.”

You’re quick to oblige, so you sit up and slip off your top to reveal your bra.

“Beautiful,” Miguel murmurs, reaching out to touch your bare shoulder. His fingers trace your skin with gentleness, as if he’s afraid to hurt you. Slowly, he slides his fingers up your arm until he touches your neck and then, down your chest.

“Do you want to… Take it off?” you ask softly.

Miguel nods. “May I?”

“Yes, please,” you reply, anticipation building.

With a hum, Miguel reaches behind you to undo your bra. He takes the opportunity to touch your back, relishing the feel of your skin and warmth. “So, so soft,” Miguel murmurs. “I spent so many nights in this very place, thinking about you. Thinking about touching you,” he continues you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“You thought about me?” you ask, your chest fluttering.

“Only every night,” Miguel replies, moving back to gaze at you. “I lay and stared at the ceiling, counting the hours down until you come back from home.”

“Miguel,” you whisper softly, touched by his words. “I didn’t know… But now that we’re here, that we know how we feel… I’m not going anywhere.”

Miguel smiles and kisses you. “You don’t know how happy that makes me,” he says. “A part of me — a small part — was afraid you’d reject me, not because of your ethics, but because maybe you’d found the idea of being with me gross.”

“What? No, I could never,” you reassure him, feeling disbelief that he’d think that. “What you said earlier, about my body giving me away… It’s true. I was ignoring the signs and when I wasn’t, I was blaming it on something else, but the truth is, I want you, too,” you confess softly. “I want and need you, Miguel.”

“Mi vida,” Miguel whispers, his heart fluttering due to your words. He can’t help himself when he leans down to kiss you again with tenderness.

Cupping his face in your hands, you return the kiss. Deep inside you, this feels so right. Miguel and you sound right.

The kiss continues for what feels like minutes until you both pull away to breathe.

“Corazón [sweetheart; heart],” you whisper against his lips, panting softly. “I need you.”

“I need you, too,” Miguel whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Gently, he touches your shoulder, slowly pulling your bra’s strap down your arm. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, making sure that you’re comfortable with this, before pulling the other strap down. His breath hitches as the piece of clothing falls off, revealing your breasts. “So beautiful,” he murmurs. “May I?”

Biting your lip, you nod. The way Miguel is looking at you right now is doing nothing to stop the heat spreading in your lower region.

With your permission, Miguel reaches out to cup one breast. He groans at the feel of it, loving how it feels in his large hand. Unable to stop himself, he rubs a thumb over the sensitive and hardened nipple. “Fuck,” he murmurs, lowering himself to latch his mouth to it.

“Miguel,” you whimper, watching him eagerly begin to suck your nipple while he plays with the other one.

“You’re so beautiful, mi vida,” Miguel groans, turning to the other nipple to suck it. He pulls back a little, enough to allow himself to circle the bud with the tip of his tongue. That alone earns himself a moan from you, making him smirk. “So responsive. So sensitive.”

After a few minutes of playing with your nipples, Miguel pulls back. He glides a hand down your stomach, memorizing the feeling of your soft skin, before he reaches your bottoms. With a nod of approval from you, Miguel undoes and begins pulling them down.

He places them with your top and bra, looking at you with affection and hunger. “Your panties,” he murmurs.

“Off,” you whisper, giving him permission to take off the last piece of clothing you have left.

Without further hesitation, Miguel hooks a long finger into your panties and pulls them down. He tugs them down your thighs and legs until they’re completely off.

Shyly, you spread your legs; making a silent offer.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans, staring at your pussy. “I need to — I must try something. Can we try something?” he asks, caressing your calves.

“What do you want to try?” you ask, wondering what he has in mind.

“I’ve heard that humans like to do something,” Miguel starts, running his fingers over your legs until one hand reaches your middle. He doesn’t touch it quite yet, but his hand is close enough that he can feel the delicious warmth exuding from it. “Humans like to taste here, don’t they?” Miguel asks quietly, as if unsure of this.

As soon as you understand what Miguel means, your eyes widen. “You want to try oral sex?” you ask.

“Oral sex, yes. I’ve heard that it’s pleasurable for humans. My kind, we don’t engage in this, but if I’m honest… I’d like to try it with you. I’d like to taste you, mi vida,” Miguel admits. “May we try it, if you’re comfortable?”

“Well, I don’t know that you’ll like it,” you reply, uncertain. “And if I’m honest, I’ve never done it myself.”

“You’ve never tried it either?” Miguel gently asks.

You shake your head. “No, never. Actually, I haven’t been with anyone…”

“You’ve never — You’re…” Miguel trails off, realizing. “I understand, mi vida. Don’t worry.” Miguel smiles tenderly at you, caressing your body. “We don’t have to do this now.”

“No, no, I… I want to,” you reassure him, sure of this. “I’d like to experience it with you, if you’re also comfortable with it.”

Seeing your confidence, Miguel nods. He glides his hands over your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. “Gods, you're so beautiful, preciosa,” Miguel murmurs, looking at all of you before leaning down to kiss your thigh. Lowering himself further, Miguel inhales your scent once his face hovers over your pussy. Despite never having done this, Miguel's mouth waters at the sight of it. He can perfectly see how your pussy is reacting to him, see how it's glistening with your juices. “You’re ready for me,” he whispers with a soft smirk before blowing air on your flesh.

The sensation makes your breath hitch and squirm under Miguel in need.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans as he inhales. “You smell so divine… I want to taste you now. I wanted to take it slow, but you're temptation itself,” he murmurs before closing the distance between his face and your pussy.

He takes you by surprise when his large tongue swipes up your slit, making you whimper. Miguel groans against your flesh, taking great pleasure in how you taste. He takes a second lick, then another one and another one; quickly growing addicted to your sweet taste. Your desperate and sweet moans fill his ears, making his already hard merman cock harder.

“Dios mio,” he murmurs before eagerly sucking on your clit and earning himself another needy moan. “Your special spot,” he whispers, flicking it lightly before sucking it again.

“Fu— fuck, Miguel!” you whine, fighting not to close your thighs around his face.

“Keep them open for me, preciosa,” Miguel instructs, taking hold of one of your thighs to keep your thighs open. “I'm not done tasting this sweet pussy of yours. Won't be satisfied for a while. I understand why humans like it so much,” he murmurs, gliding his tongue over your slit again, collecting your juices. Gently, he pulls your folds apart with one hand, feeling how delicate and soft you are. He moans when he sees your entrance, making his cock twitch. Without further hesitation, he drags his tongue over your entrance before gently sticking his tongue in.

Of course, the sensation of his tongue poking your entrance makes you react. You close your free thigh around his head, making him moan.

“You know what? Wrap your thighs around me,” Miguel says, liking the feeling of your thigh around his head. He slips his tongue inside you again, feeling you do as he’s asked you to do.

“Miguel — oh God, I need you,” you whimper, the ache for Miguel growing worse now that you’ve had a taste of his tongue.

“Not yet, mi vida. I need to get you ready. I'm too large for your lovely pussy,” he says, looking up at you with a string of saliva connected to your pussy. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Please… I'd like to see it already, at least,” you answer softly since you've never seen his member. By the time you were assigned to lead the research, the previous scientists had already tried asking about his reproductive body part. There were notes in the binder you received, but everything regarding the topic were mere theories since Miguel hadn’t been opened to discussing such topic yet. Once you showed up, you decided to wait on that until the end. You didn’t want to make Miguel uncomfortable when you hardly knew each other.

“You want to see it, mi amor [my love]?” Miguel answers with a smile. “Alright, it's only fair. Hold on,” he continues, moving his hand down his body. He grunts softly as he feels himself jutting from his scales, allowing him to pull out his member with ease. Due to his tail, Miguel decides to lay down instead, so he moves to your side to do so.

Curious, you sit up and look at him, laid out for you. In awe, you admire him. He looks so beautiful with the water casting a gentle glow on his skin. His long tail’s colors — a dark blue with neon red — seems to vibrate with life within the cove. Gazing up at his face, you find his hair messy from your fingers and his cheeks flushed. At last, your eyes lower to his chest and then stomach before it moves lower. That’s when you see it as Miguel pulls it out with a small whimper.

You swallow deeply at the sight of Miguel’s heavy merman cock, sticking proudly out of his colorful scales. To say that Miguel’s member is different from a human male’s is an understatement. To start, there’s the great size difference. From an educated guess, his length is over seven inches, making his member already impressive, but there’s also his girth. There’s no way you can wrap your hand around his cock with one hand alone.

His thick head, which is covered by its foreskin, is the same neon red from Miguel’s tail. Knowing you’re watching, Miguel gently pulls the layer of skin to fully reveal his head. In awe, you watch as precum — a pearly white— leaks from his slit. Though you’ve never tasted a man, your mouth waters at the sight. You want to taste it, just how Miguel tasted you. Lowering your gaze again, you see how his girth expands the lower you go until you spot his heavy and firm sac, sending a rush of heat straight to your already soaking wet pussy.

Suddenly, you imagine stuffing your mouth with his cock and ball sac. Oh, you want that. With a gulp, you kneel closer to Miguel’s side and lift your gaze to meet his. “Do you want to… Do you want to feel what it’s like to receive?”

The offer makes Miguel’s eyes go wide and his cheek turn red. “Receive? Do you mean what I think you mean?” He asks, glancing at his hard cock for a second before meeting your gaze again.

Determined, you nod. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Like you did for me. Only if you’re comfortable, of course,” you answer.

“Yes, but,” Miguel shakes his head, deeply flustered by the idea of you doing this. “It’s too big and your mouth — It’s so much smaller than I am. What if I hurt you? It’d be my first time and I don’t know how I’ll react. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.” Miguel sighs heavily. “I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you, mi vida.”

Touched by his concern for your well-being, you smile softly. “You won’t hurt me, corazón. We’ll take it slow,” you start, caressing his tail. “If you sense that it’s getting too much, you can tap my shoulder and we’ll pause.”

“I don’t know,” Miguel continues. “Are you sure?”

“I’m one hundred percent sure,” you reply, still caressing his tail. “Do you want to?”

After a minute or so of contemplation, Miguel nods, so you move even closer to him to kiss him. Your lips move against his, slowly and tenderly, especially because you can sense that Miguel is a little nervous about hurting you during the process. Gently, you glide a hand up and down his chest, caressing his skin for a minute or so before you lower it to his cock.

Carefully, you wrap your hand around his fat cock, or at least, as much as you can. The weight of it is significant, making you wonder what it’s going to feel like inside you. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze Miguel’s cock before you swipe your thumb over the tip, spreading the pearly-colored precum over the entire head. At that, Miguel moans and arches his back.

“You liked that,” you whisper against Miguel’s lips with a smile, doing it again to elicit the same reaction.

“You tease,” Miguel pants, resting his forehead against yours. “Fuck, mi vida,” he groans as you start stroking his large cock. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Not planning on it, corazón,” you reply, nuzzling your nose against his, very much loving how Miguel is putty in your hands right now. You take it slow and continue your ministrations for a few minutes, pressing gentle kisses to his face. “You ready?”

“Yes, mi vida,” Miguel answers with fully red cheeks. “Ready.”

With a nod, you move down Miguel’s body until you’re near his cock. You settle down and get comfortable, eyeing the challenge ahead. You’ve never done this before either, yet you’re eager to do this. Wasting no more time, you go for it and lick Miguel’s tip before you gently pull the foreskin down and lick again, gathering the precum on your tongue. Watching you, Miguel moans in pleasure, clenching his hands into fists. You lick his cock head, again and again while Miguel arches his back for you. After teasing him for a few minutes and mentally preparing yourself for the new experience, you take Miguel into your mouth. It takes several seconds to accommodate Miguel, but in the end, you succeed.

“Fuck — Fuck, fuck, preciosa,” Miguel whimpers, watching you with his cock in your mouth. He notes how you’re struggling to take him, yet you’re still trying your best. “That feels amazing.”

Satisfied with his reaction, you decide to go further by pushing his cock deeper in your mouth. Without further hesitation, you begin to suck him eagerly despite your lack of experience.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel hisses through his teeth, bucking his hips enough to push his cock deeper into your mouth. The sight and feel of you… Oh, it almost makes Miguel cum in your sweet mouth, but he wills himself not to. He can’t do that because he needs to cum inside you; needs to make you his.

Seeing Miguel’s reaction encourages you, so you continue by playing with his ball sac, testing the weight of it in your hand. You moan softly as Miguel’s cock twitches in your mouth, sending a spurt of precum straight into your throat.

“Gods — Preciosa, we need to stop — “ Miguel groans, taking hold of your shoulder to stop you. “I’m going to cum if we don’t.”

With a small whine, you release his cock with a wet pop and admire your work. Precum and saliva drips down Miguel's length, down to his ball sac. “Did you like it?” you ask him with a smile after wiping your mouth.

“Did I like it?” Miguel repeats in disbelief, pulling you closer to him. “You nearly made me release with that alone. Had you continued… I would’ve fully lost control. Did I hurt you?” he asks, lifting your head to inspect your mouth. “I moved earlier and ended up pushing myself farther in, did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t, no worries. I really… Enjoyed myself,” you admit with a sheepish smile. “It was a challenge, but I enjoyed it. And you did, too, didn’t you?”

Miguel smirks, cupping your cheek. “I most definitely did. That was an incredible experience. I truly understand now why humans like that so much.”

“Not everyone is into it, but many do,” you explain, running a hand over Miguel’s chest.

“I see why. It’s enough to make someone come undone. Like you,” he comments, grazing his thumb over your skin. “You looked ready to come for me earlier. Seems like you liked my mouth’s work, hm?”

With a chuckle, you poke his chest. “You seemed to have enjoyed my mouth, too. I felt you twitch, you know.”

“I’m certainly not denying that.” Miguel murmurs, kissing the top of your head to express his fondness. “I’d like to try again in the future. For now…”

You hum and gaze up at him, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. With a nod, you let him know that you’re thinking of the same thing. “I want it, too… I’m ready,” you assure him, caressing his chest.

“I am ready, too,” Miguel whispers, caressing you. “I swear on my life that I’ll be gentle and patient with you. As you said earlier, we’ll take it slow,” he adds.

“Slow and steady,” you state, laying down on your back once more.

With ease, Miguel carefully moves over you to avoid crushing you with his heavier frame. For a few seconds, he allows himself to appreciate the sight of you — the woman he wishes to make his mate — under him. For months, he’s been longing for you and now, you’re both here knowing you wish to be together.

Ever so gently, Miguel lowers himself to deliver kisses. He starts by kissing one cheek and then, the next one. Your lips are next, receiving a sensual and slow kiss. Miguel gives particular attention to your neck next. He plants gentle kisses to the skin there before biting down to give you a love bite.

With a sweet whimper, you move your head aside to give him more access, which Miguel appreciates and takes advantage of to give you more love bites, marking you. Once satisfied with his work, Miguel lowers his face to your chest. When his mouth finds your breasts, he kisses each one before sucking on your nipples.

“Mmm, Miguel,” you whine softly, gazing at him through hooded eyes.

“You like that, hm?” he asks with a grin, sucking on one of your nipples again, harder, until he has you squirming. “Good girl,” he praises you, lifting his head to gaze at you. He’s ready and by taking a look at your sweet pussy, so are you. “Hermosa conchita [lovely pussy; conchita is slang for pussy in some Spanish-speaking countries, though in others it just means seashell; wanted to use it under this context because of the sea theme],” he whispers, dragging one of his long fingers down your slit and bringing it to his mouth to taste you once more. “It’s ready for me.”

Panting, you nod. “I’m ready, Miguel, please,” you whine, reaching for him.

“Patience,” he whispers, moving himself closer to you. From his tail, he can feel his cock aching to be inside you. He breathes in and takes it in his hand, guiding it to your entrance. He hesitates for a few seconds, contemplating the size difference.

“It’s alright,” you reassure him, rubbing your hand up and down his arm. “I can handle it.”

Miguel nods, gently moving forward and pressing the tip of his cock against your folds. The mere touch makes you both moan, leaving you wanting more, but you both know that you need to be patient, considering this is your first time and Miguel is big.

“Go ahead,” you whisper, relaxed.

With patience, the two of you work through it until Miguel successfully breaches your entrance.

“Oh God — you’re so big,” you whimper, looking up at him and squeezing his arm.

“I know, preciosa. Do you need me to pull out?” Miguel whispers, gazing at you with a tender gaze, but you quickly shake your head.

“No, no, just give me a few seconds,” you reply, breathing in and out while your body adjusts.

After a few minutes of allowing you to accommodate his size, you kiss Miguel. “Okay, you can move a little,” you whisper, ready to continue.

With your confirmation, Miguel moves a bit more. Little by little, and with patience, Miguel sinks deeper and deeper.

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes closing in pure pleasure at the feeling of your walls around him. His breathing is heavy as he controls himself from moving. “How are you feeling, mi vida?”

“Good, so good. I can feel the stretch,” you murmur, feeling Miguel deep inside you.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs, lifting a hand to caress your cheek. “You look beautiful. So ethereal,” Miguel continues. “My beautiful mate.”

You breathe out and reach for Miguel’s face, pulling him lower. “Say that again.”

“My beautiful mate. Mine,” Miguel repeats, his mouth finding yours to kiss you tenderly. “Eres mía [you’re mine].”

You return the kiss tenderly as you drag your nails down Miguel's back, leaving scratches that make him moan into your mouth. Lost in the feeling, Miguel begins to move slowly by sliding almost all the way out before sinking back in at the same speed.

“Please,” you whine against Miguel's lips. “Take me.”

Your neediness is all Miguel needs to hear before he begins moving a bit more, still gentle to avoid hurting you. His large merman cock slides in and out of you, stretching you like you never imagined. Deep moans fall from Miguel's lips as he feels your walls adjust and squeeze around him, taking his cock so well.

“You’re amazing,” he groans, moving his hips against yours.

“Nmgh, I can feel you all the way in,” you moan, digging your nails into his back even more.

“I know, baby, I’m deep,” Miguel replies breathlessly as he continues to claim you. “You love it, don’t you, preciosa?”

“Mhm, yes, yes, — ah, fuckkk,” you whimper in pleasure as Miguel picks up the speed just a tad more. Scratching at his back, you hear the sound of your wet pussy as Miguel buries himself inside you over and over again, still so careful not to hurt you, but pleasuring you nonetheless and pushing you to the edge.

“Gods, ‘m not gonna last long. Not when you're taking me so well, my sweet mate,” Miguel grunts, baring his fangs at you. “Gonna fill you up to the brim.”

“Fill me up?” you manage to ask as Miguel buries himself all the way in, his sac slapping your flesh.

Miguel nods, watching you with his red eyes. “Fill you up with my seed,” he whispers, moving his hips against yours.

“You promise?” you whisper, rushing to wrap your legs around Miguel’s waist. Gazing up at him, you feel a tingling sensation that cannot be ignored.

“Gods, yes,” Miguel grunts, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as he nears the edge. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna mark you with my seed. You’re my mate. And soon, I’ll make you my wife. My future queen — All mine,” Miguel murmurs reverently.

“Please, please, Miguel. Don’t stop. I think ‘m gonna —” you start only to moan in ecstasy as you come undone at the same time Miguel bottoms out.

Miguel’s cock twitches once. Then, once more before he floods your pussy with his merman seed.

You moan against each other’s mouth, feeling like you’re in another world as you ride your climaxes.

“Miguel,” you whimper, that being the only thing you can utter when you’re a complete mess.

“Preciosa,” Miguel murmurs, nuzzling his face against your neck, his hips stuttering against yours. “We’re mates, now and forever,” he continues.

“Mates,” you repeat, nodding. “We’re mates.” Watching him with tenderness you think about the last four months. You never once imagined you’d fall for the stoic merman, Miguel, you were assigned to research, but here you are. Somewhere deep inside you, as you lay beneath Miguel, you know this was meant to be.

Slowly, Miguel lifts himself up. With tender eyes, he gazes down at you to admire the view of you completely spent. “You did so well, preciosa,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek. “My beautiful, sweet mate.”

With a satisfied smile, you lay your hand over his. “My mate… My future husband,” you whisper as Miguel takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Forever,” Miguel whispers.

I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what?” you ask, shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

“So, tomorrow?” Miguel asks.

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

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good luck, madam,” Kerr states.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walk towards the windows and gaze out.

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

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

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

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

You exit and look at the other two empty bedrooms.

“So you want two kids?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I haven’t even met him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter.

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

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

Right.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don't know what that means.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you like this?” Miguel questions.

“You're the one that created me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MIA?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” Peter answers with a nod, determined. “We’ll be back.”

“Lyla, please check if Dulzura’s location has been turned on again,” Miguel commands as everyone else huddles around him to watch the live recording from the spider gadget, watching Osborn still crying.

“Her location is still unknown,” Lyla reports back.

Miguel sighs, gazing at the buildings around him and wondering where you’re at while trying to stay positive despite the circumstances. His attention turns to Harry again when he hears the door bell ring through the device, announcing Miles and Peter’s arrival.

“Get up and answer,” Jess quietly urges Osborn, betraying her own worry.

To everyone’s relief, Osborn wipes his face and stands up to check the door. Without trouble, Miguel orders Lyla to project the view from Miles and Peter’s gizmos just as Osborn opens the front door, looking confused by the two strangers.

“May I help you?” he asks with caution, his voice hoarse.

“Hey, there, buddy,” Peter starts, trying to sound like his usual friendly self, though everyone listening can tell that that’s not his real voice. “We’re sorry to bother you, but we’re Y/N’s friends. She was supposed to meet with us after she finished touring apartments with you, but she didn’t show up nor has she responded to our messages. Our other mutual friends haven’t been able to reach her either. Do you happen to know if she went somewhere else?”

“What?” Harry asks, taking a step back. “You can’t reach her?”

“No. She hasn’t reply to any of our messages,” Miles answers.

Harry sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “God, what I have done?”

“We’re just trying to figure out where she is… We want to make sure she’s alright,” Peter continues, fighting the urge to glare at Harry’s response. “Think you can tell us anything?”

Harry opens his mouth, but a voice behind Peter and Miles prevents him from saying anything just yet. “Good evening, gentlemen. Mr. Osborn has been under a lot of stress lately.”

“Who the shock is that?” Miguel mutters from the rooftop before he, along with everyone else, see the person behind the voice when Peter turns around, giving them a look through his gizmo.

“My name is Felix Kerr,” Kerr introduces himself, offering a small nod. “Forgive me for my interruption, but I went out to retrieve some food and medicine for Mr. Osborn. He’s been feeling unwell recently, you see, and today was… Not great either.”

“I see,” Peter replies simply. “We’re sorry to hear Mr. Osborn is doing unwell. We don’t mean to disturb, but we know you were the last known person to see Y/N. It’s been hours since any of us has heard anything from her.” Peter states, turning to look at Osborn again. “As stated, we want to know she’s alright.”

“Right…” Harry answers, giving Kerr a look before turning to face Miles and Peter. “Please, come in. I seem to have forgotten my manners. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, his reaction raising eyebrows at the rooftop. He seems so polite, maybe too much. “If you wish to take a seat.”

“That’s kind of you, sir, but we don’t want to overstay,” Miles answers.

“Very well,” Harry states, inhaling sharply. “I… I don’t know where Y/N is, but I know she was upset when I left her apartment because we had an argument. An argument I started.”

“About what?” Miguel hears Peter question, prompting Harry to summarize what happened back at your apartment; from his accusations to your response.

“She was angry and hurt,” Harry says, lowering his face. “I don’t know what led me to say such horrible things. I promise I care about her. I really do,” he desperately says to Peter and Miles, his eyes showing remorse and guilt. “I’m not making excuses, but I haven’t been myself lately. I don’t know how I could say such things. I failed her once more.”

“At least, he admits it,” Miguel grumbles, his hands curled in fists. He has half a mind to go downstairs and give Osborn a piece of his mind for everything he said to you, especially when he thinks about how Harry’s version is only a summary and his own perspective. He’s probably leaving out details to save face.

“If she’s not with him nor at her apartment, then where is Y/N?” Pav asks, worried.

“With her location off, she could be anywhere,” Margo answers with a defeated sigh. “Anywhere in the multiverse.”

Hearing that, Miguel lifts his face to the sky. The weight of that reality is soul crushing. You truly could be anywhere right now, all alone and hurting because of this man.

“What if… She ran away and never comes back?” Spider-Ham states from somewhere, voicing an inner fear within Miguel, before receiving a hush from Noir.

That would end him, Miguel knows that. Even when it’s just a few hours away from you, Miguel misses you.

He misses you like the moon misses its stars in a starless night.

“We will find her,” Miguel says suddenly, turning to look at everyone. “We all heard the things he told Dulzura. She’s hurting and needs us. She needs comfort, just like she has comforted us over the years when we’ve been feeling down. We must find her.”

Your friends nod, their faces expressing their worry.

With that said, everyone on the rooftop returns to Miguel’s lab to decide who will search what universe in order to avoid overlooking one. Peter and Miles join the search a bit later after successfully convincing Harry to not make a police report just yet by reassuring him that you’re likely taking some time alone due to the argument. As to Miguel, he assigns to himself all the universes that the two of you have visited together, hoping to find you himself.

Universe after universe, Miguel searches the cities. He knows it’s useless, but mentally, he calls for you; asking you to, please, return home.

Desperation courses through Miguel. It seems to grow with every passing second and even more when the others report back with no leads. He stops on a rooftop, not sure if it’s the tenth or eleventh universe, and scans the city he’s currently at. There’s so many universes…

Feeling a knot in his throat, Miguel clears his throat loudly. He won’t cry. You’ll be back. You must, right? How many times have you told him that he’s stuck with you? You wouldn't just disappear and leave your life. You wouldn't just leave him behind. You will be back.

With determination, Miguel fixes his posture and continues looking through universes. He doesn’t know how much time has passed before he suddenly receives a notification. His eyebrows furrow as he realizes it’s your location; you’ve started to share it again.

The simple sight of that fills Miguel with such a great relief, so much his hands are shaking. He quickly opens a portal to you, the universe identification number looking oddly familiar. It comes to him then, making him stop in his tracks. The universe you’re in was only discovered two days ago and it’s not just any universe. His heart sinks, understanding why you’re there: It’s the only universe, in the entire database of the Spider Society, in which a version of your Peter exists in.

A strange fear forms in Miguel’s chest with this knowledge. What if, after all these years of healing, Harry’s hurtful words impacted you so deeply that you’re thinking of doing something you shouldn’t? Miguel swallows hard as the idea sinks in.

His thoughts are interrupted a second later by another notification. It’s a message sent directly from you.

“I’m home.”

Home.

That’s all Miguel needs to know before he travels back to his universe, directly to his home. He steps out into the living room, finding it empty. When he doesn’t hear any noise from the kitchen either, he heads for the stairs, climbing four steps at a time.

In a hurry, Miguel reaches your room, finding your bedroom door slightly open, allowing a sliver of light out into the hallway. Gently, he presses his fingers against the door and pushes it open. Miguel’s face softens as soon as his maroon eyes find you at last, sitting on your bedroom floor.

You look up at him, eyes puffy from crying with an open box in front of you, the one that contains Peter’s belongings.

“I’ll let everyone know she’s safe,” Lyla says quietly, appearing from his gizmo. “And that she needs time alone, at least for tonight.”

Miguel nods, his gaze glued to you. “Dulzura,” he whispers softly.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper back with a shaky voice. “I should’ve messaged you earlier, but I…”

“I know, Dulzura,” he answers, approaching you before dropping to his knees in front of you. The sight of your puffy eyes and visible heartache… Miguel wants nothing but to hold you in his arms and dry your tears.

“Harry…” you start.

“I know,” Miguel repeats. “We were looking for you and went to see him. Miles and Peter spoke to him. He told us what happened. A summary.”

You nod, lowering your gaze to the box. “I… I was so hurt, but also so angry. How he dared say those things to me,” you share before inhaling deeply, feeling a knot form in your throat once more.

“Rightfully so. He should’ve never said those things,” Miguel states gently, offering reassurance. “He had no right to and on top of that, he’s wrong. Everyone who knows you well, knows you love and care about Peter, just like Peter does for you from wherever he is.” Miguel scoots closer, his heart aching with and for you. “He looks after you, Dulzura. I know that. And, from everything you’ve shared with me, I know he’s more than happy to see you today like this; smiling and living your life because that’s what he wanted. Remember?”

Sniffling, you nod. “Yes. The promise.”

“The promise,” Miguel repeats, nodding. “You’ve honored part of his promise. You’re living life and making memories. You’re doing what you’ve told me before; you’re living for him, too. In his memory.”

You lift your gaze and smile softly, your eyes teary again. “Thank you for reminding me. I know he’s happy for me. He wasn’t selfish, never was, so I don’t know why Harry would say that. It made me angry… He said other things, too, and that got to me.”

“What things?” Miguel inquires.

“He asked if I was still hoping for a happy ever after with another man that wasn’t Peter,” you answer. “He asked if you and I were something else. If we were dating and if I was, if I had forgotten about and replaced Peter.”

Beside you, Miguel fights the urge to scowl. He silently wonders if Osborn expected you to remain alone forever as some sort of loyalty test to Peter when the man himself asked you a very different thing, or if it came from jealously. Could it be that Harry likes you more than a friend and sees Miguel as a threat?

Miguel swallows. That would be an unfounded jealously, at least to Miguel. You and him are only best friends. There’s no reason for Osborn to think anything else of your friendship. Then, again… The number of times you’ve been mistaken for a couple are high. Maybe that’s why Harry thinks that.

“Don’t let him get to your head,” Miguel says, his hands itching to comfort you as he watches you dry your tears.

“He succeeded,” you admit. “I wondered if it was wrong that I’m open to the idea of one day finding a man to start a life with once again, to experience parenthood when Peter didn’t get to.”

At your teary confession, Miguel’s eyes soften further. “Oh, Dulzura,” he murmurs tenderly, his own throat beginning to feel like barb wire. “It’s not wrong at all if one day you find someone. You…” Miguel continues, struggling to speak. “You of all people deserve to be happy, you hear me? You deserve happiness. Love. I know so, and I know Peter wanted that for you as well.”

“That — that means a lot to me,” you murmur, your eyes glistening. “I still… He put that thought in my head, which then led me to wonder if another version of me existed.”

Swallowing, Miguel nods. The other Peter.

“I checked in the database, I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I had to know. I needed to know. I found that there’s only one variant of me.”

“Yes,” he replies, treading carefully. “The universe was only discovered two days ago. I was trying to find a way to tell you. I… I didn’t know if it would cause you…” Miguel trails off, unsure how you feel about it, or what you’re thinking right now. He wants to ask if you saw the other Peter, if something in you has changed at the knowledge of his existence. The uncertainty is making him feel strange, in a very bad way.

“I…” you start, your tears beginning to flow more. “I’m sorry.” You apologize again, covering your face as you begin to cry harder.

The sight of you crying, your body curled inwards, and your chest heaving from such sentiment utterly shatters Miguel. He never wishes to see you like this again, ever.

Driven by his feelings, any last bit of restraint within Miguel evaporates.

One second, Miguel is kneeling by your side and the next one, he's sitting down and gently, but urgently, holding you by the arms. With care, he pulls you into him, his mind and heart determined. He makes space for you between his legs, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you.

Gently swaying back and forth, Miguel hears your crying stutter followed by a sharp inhale out of shock. Still, Miguel doesn't let go. He doesn't loosen his grip, not even just a little bit.

“Miguel —” you start in between tears.

“Shh, I'm here. I'm here. I'm here,” he whispers, feeling your head just below his chin. “I got you. Forever and always.” He whispers, his eyes threatening to spill tears. “Shhh, niña amada mía. Todo estará bien, te lo prometo [… my beloved girl. Everything will be okay, I promise].” He continues, gently trying to comfort you.

“Pe-Peter,” you manage to whisper through tears.

“I know, preciosa [precious],” Miguel whispers back, hugging you closer somehow. “I know.”

Sniffling, you pull back enough to gaze up at Miguel, meeting his maroon eyes full of understanding and tenderness. “He's… Happy,” you whisper with droplets of tears hanging off your lashes. “That variant of Peter is living a wonderful life. I'm so — I'm so happy at least one version of him got what he always dreamed about.”

At your words, Miguel's eyes soften. That's why you're crying, out of happiness that this other Peter had the privilege to live the life your own Peter always wanted with you. Tenderly, Miguel cups your face in his large and warm hands, staring at you as if you’re the very multiverse. He feels relief deep inside him, too, to know you are not sad nor bitter by this fact, which means you don't wish to interfere in this universe in any way.

“Mi Dulzura [my sweetness],” he starts, his voice steady and low. “You're the least selfish person I know, you know that?” he asks, gliding the pads of his thumbs over your skin to dry your tears. He smiles softly at you before hugging you again, comforting you.

Snuggling closer to him, you rest your head on Miguel's chest, calming down in his arms. The steady rhythm of his heart under your ear soothes you, bringing a tranquility you haven't felt all day, one unlike any other. You sigh in content, inhaling Miguel's scent. He smells wonderful as always, so warm and welcoming, and you can’t get enough of it right now.

Miguel smells like home.

Somewhere in your mind, a small thought pops inside your head. It goes as quickly as it comes to you, but you acknowledge it; you haven't come across a scent that makes you feel like this since Peter’s.

“My variant and Peter's variant are married,” you start softly, wanting to tell Miguel everything. “They have children. A boy and a girl. Have I ever told you that Peter hoped for two kids? One night we spoke about it.”

“Yeah?” Miguel answers, still embracing you while you talk. After all, some time ago you told him talking helps and as your best friend, he’ll happily listen to you talk all night long.

“Mhm… He talked about us moving to another apartment, which I toured today. It’s bigger and has two more rooms. One night, Peter mentioned two kids and how they could each have one of the rooms. How I could have a home library there.”

Miguel smiles. “Sounds like Peter had a wonderful vision,” he answers, imagining what you're saying. It was a pretty dream, a noble one to aspire. He mindlessly rubs your back, imagining you as a mother while you tell him everything about the last apartment you toured today and how you felt when you were there.

“With that already in my head and then Harry’s words… The idea weighted heavily on me; how Peter will never be my husband, have kids, or grow old. When I went to that universe, though, and saw that Peter,” you say, smiling softly. “I felt incredibly happy to see that at least one version of my Peter has the privilege of living that life. My variant, too. In another universe, we get to do the things we dreamed about. And for me, that’s more than enough,” you whisper, feeling like an invisible chain that you’ve been carrying around all these years has finally been lifted.

“You, too, will get to live it, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers. “One of these days, I promise.”

You hum in his arms, comforted by Miguel’s words and touch. Minutes pass and your tears cease. It’s uncertain how long you remain like that, but neither of you care, even when a comfortable silence falls upon you.

It’s not until much later, when your head is clearer, that your brain finally registers the reality.

You’re in Miguel’s arms.

He’s touching — embracing — you.

After years of healing and being reluctant to physical touch, Miguel is hugging you.

“Miguel,” you start softly, your grip on his bicep faltering as you suddenly remember his boundaries. What if he's internally struggling and you've been inconsiderate all this time with your crying?

The mere idea of you testing Miguel’s boundaries, even if he’s doing it out of kindness, leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Not wanting to put any more pressure on him, you begin to pull away only for Miguel’s arms to tighten around you.

He shakes his head, his arms wrapping entirely around your body, pressing you against him. “Please,” Miguel whispers, pleading. “Don't let me go just yet.”

With a smile, you hug Miguel back with the same intensity, reminding him what it’s like to be held once again.

Feeling your arms around him, Miguel sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes shut tight. “I forgot…” he murmurs. “How wonderful it is to be held by someone — someone you cherish, care, and love.”

Your eyes open at Miguel’s words, your stomach feeling a bit fuzzy before you close them again.

Meanwhile, Miguel inhales your sweet scent and relishes your warmth. He can't think of anything better than this right now. This is perfect, this right here with you.

Every step he's taken in his healing journey has led him here. From letting his walls down to baring his very soul for your eyes only. Every tear and smile. Every moment spent in your lovely, soothing, and endearing presence. Every little moment of touching, and so much more. It's led him to this moment.

With a smile, Miguel hugs you tighter. He reminds himself to not squeeze too much, or he'll crush you, so he hugs you tight enough to make his feelings known and perhaps, to make up for all the time he's gone without receiving and reciprocating such a simple human gesture.

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes closed, knowing you'll treasure this moment forever.

“No, thank you,” Miguel replies in a whisper. “I would've never… Been here if it wasn't with you.”

You hum, slightly shifting your head on Miguel's shoulder. Gently, you run a hand down his back, feeling his warmth and back muscles flex under your touch, making Miguel's lashes flutter in silent comfort.

Your hand tracing his bare skin…

Miguel clears his throat, mentally shoving that totally random and odd thought away. Instead, he continues to hold you in his arms like his life depends on it.

Outside, the city life goes on. The moon is high above in the sky, accompanied by its lovely stars. Moonlight filters into the room from a window, partially bathing the two of you as time passes by.

“Are you tired?” Miguel asks a while later, softly.

“No,” you answer, still in his arms. “You?”

“Not even a little bit,” he replies in a murmur, but his stomach protests, making it known he’s hungry.

Hearing the growling from Miguel's stomach, you chuckle before your own copies his.

“It seems I'm not the only one that’s hungry,” Miguel states, unwillingly loosening his arms around you. He feels you pull away enough to look up at him, smiling softly. “You haven't eaten anything, have you?”

“No,” you confirm.

“I'll make you something to eat. Come on,” Miguel says.

Since hunger calls, you pull apart from each other and stand up, needing a moment to stretch after being in one position alone for too long.

Downstairs, Miguel has you sit down because it's his ‘treat’ to cook after the day you've had. You oblige, but not before putting on one of your favorite records since you’re in a great mood now. How could you not when the day is ending on a great note? And on top of that, Miguel makes one of your comfort dishes.

After a delicious dinner, you shower and dress into pajamas before heading back downstairs. You settle down on the living room’s floor to check the messages from your friends since you reached out to them while Miguel cooked. You apologized for worrying them, but most importantly, you thank them profusely for their love and care. With a smile, you put away your gizmo with thoughts of baking sweets for everyone soon as a way to thank them.

“You came downstairs just in time,” Miguel says behind you with damp hair from his own shower, entering the living room from the kitchen.

“I did?” you ask, looking up and finding Miguel already halfway to you, carrying two mugs with café de olla. Your smile grows wider at the sight as he reaches you. Carefully, you accept the mug. “Thank you, omg,” you state, inhaling the comforting scent. “God, I love you,” you add sweetly before taking a small sip, too preoccupied with the drink to notice Miguel’s flustered face.

He gazes at you, his mug in midair while his brain experiences a ‘504 Service Unavailable” error due to your last statement. It’s your little chuckle of happiness and satisfaction after a third sip that fixes said error. He clears his throat and finally places the mug on the coffee table, his face red.

“God, I love you…”

Miguel swallows, his stomach feeling fuzzy. “You like it?” he manages to ask.

“You already know I love it,” you reply, turning to give him a look that tells him he shouldn’t even ask anymore because you’ll love it each and every time.

Miguel smiles. If only you knew that he plans on continuing to make that question, even if ten years have gone by with the two of you doing this. With a soft sigh leaving his perfect lips, he silently prays for something; he prays he has the privilege of having you in his life for longer than that time. For the remainder of his life, to be precise.

“I can hear you thinking,” you murmur, holding the mug with both your hands.

“Just thinking,” Miguel answers, picking up his own mug and trying the coffee. “Despite everything that happened today,” he starts, keeping his thoughts to himself from just now. “Did you happen to like any apartments?”

“Oh… No,” you answer with a frown, turning to face him fully. “There were some pros everywhere, but also a lot of cons.”

With a laugh, Miguel turns to face you directly as well, crossing his legs to scoot closer to you. “I think it’s going to take some time, perhaps. You have lived in one place for so long. You’re used to the area and the style of the building.”

“I know. Or, do you think I’m being too picky?” you question, tilting your head slightly.

“You? Picky? Never,” Miguel answers with a teasing tone.

“Ah, I see,” you reply, slowly smiling at him as he chuckles.

“In all seriousness, you have the privilege to think about it. You don’t need to rush yourself into a lease, if your heart is not on it.” Miguel hums, gazing at you. “You already know, my home is your home. Besides… You’re already, basically, well…” He clears his throat. “We’re basically full on roommates at this point. And, you insist on contributing financially while still paying rent over there. I was actually thinking, if you want…”

You raise an eyebrow at Miguel’s words, getting an idea of where he’s going.

“Well, I was thinking… If maybe, you would consider — to save your money — moving in one hundred percent,” Miguel finally says, coming out with it. “Only if you wish to, of course. I’m only making the suggestion, so it’s something you can think about.”

“Oh…” you simply say, thinking about it. Silently, you wonder if it’d be okay; to not have a place at your own universe, or if it’d bring you problems in the future.

“Take your time. Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to do it. I understand if you still wish to have a place at your universe. I’m only worried about you spending twice when I have the means to handle everything financially. I don’t wish for you to be spending your money in both places,” Miguel says. “And, if you ever need money, you can count on me. Please know that. Although, I have a feeling you’d be stubborn about accepting my support.” Miguel takes a sip and smirks softly when he sees you raise an eyebrow, trying to deny your stubbornness. “Yes, you would. I know you.”

You sigh, playfully rolling your eyes before thinking about his offer again. “Fair enough. I will think about it, okay? Thank you for… Making that offer.”

“It’s an invitation,” Miguel clarifies, making it known that there wouldn’t be any expectations legally wise, or of any other kind. “Think about it, yes? You let me know what you decide. Either way, I’ll be here with you.”

With a smile, you nod, remembering his words from earlier when he first held you. You recall his emotion when he told you he’s here for you; that he got you, forever and always. Still smiling, you take a drink from your mug. “Hey, how about we work on a puzzle?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Miguel replies with a grin, placing his mug on the coffee table before pulling the piece of furniture closer to the two of you. “Which one should we do?”

An hour later of working on a puzzle, you both groan softly and fix your postures, exhausted from slumping over the coffee table.

“I think we need a little break,” you say with a laugh, leaning back against the couch.

“I second that,” Miguel answers, leaning back as well. He turns to look at you and smiles at the sight of you simply sitting there in your pajamas, looking incredibly endearing.

With a soft hum, you briefly think about Harry. You’ve tried not to think about him or the argument after Miguel hugged you, so you haven’t truly processed the situation. You’re uncertain if he will try to contact you again and if you will even deem it worth it to listen to him.

You push the thought away. Right now, you don’t want to think about that. You put all of that aside and cherish the now, or more specifically, you cherish the company from your best friend. Yes, your best friend, who you’ve known for years now, not three mere seconds like Harry said.

With a soft sigh, Miguel rests his head on the cushions. He smiles softly and gazes at you again, noting that look you always get when you begin to get sleepy. “Sleepy?” he asks, already knowing the answer. No.

“Hm? Oh, no,” you answer with a small grin, resting your head as well.

“I figured,” Miguel replies turning to look at the ceiling, knowing it’s actually a matter of time before you doze off. He wouldn’t be surprised, especially after the day you’ve had.

“May we stay here a little while?” you ask softly, not wanting to leave his presence despite the day catching up to you little by little.

“We can stay all night, if you want. Just like this,” Miguel murmurs a minute or two before he feels your head rest on his bicep. He glances down, finding you already asleep. Carefully, Miguel lifts his arm to let you slip into his side before respectfully wrapping it around you. He remains awake for a while, long enough that he hears the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the windows. “Duerme, niña amada mía [sleep, my beloved girl],” he whispers softly.

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

A/N: Hiii, my lovely pookies!! THEY HUGGED!! 🗣 I repeat, THEY HUGGED! 🗣🗣

I've been waiting for this day for forever, like everyone else! I didn't plan on taking so long to update, but it's kind of cool how the opportunity to post it today was given, considering today is two years since this story started.🥹

I don't want to ramble too much, but given it's two years of this fic and me joining the fandom here on Tumblr, I just want to say thank you for still reading! 🥹💖

It boggles my mind how I'm actually still writing this fic that two years ago, I was unsure about sharing. On top of that, the original plan was for there to only be four-ish chapters. Now, there are twenty more chapters than originally planned, and we're officially past the 400k word mark (I told you guys to take my keyboard away so many times 🤣).

I almost forgot, too, that the first chapter was untitled because I suck at coming up with titles for my works (you'd think over ten years of writing would help, but no). It was until I heard the song "Nonviolent Communication" from the ATSV album for the first time that I fell in love with the idea of that as a title for this work. It felt right and captured Miguel so beautifully, so the fic finally got its title before the second chapter was posted. I wonder if anyone currently reading was here for that lol.

Either way, this fic truly grew into something more than I planned, and I'm deeply proud of it. It's not perfect by any means, but if it has brought even a little bit of happiness and comfort to you like it has for me, that's more than enough for me!

I know my updates have been nonexistent this year and I'm truly sorry about that. To put it simply, I lost inspiration to write due to everything going on around the world. I suddenly felt a spark earlier this month and finally started to write again little by little each day until I found my groove once more. With that said, I seriously look forward to updating again and completing Nonviolent Communication.

I can't say for sure how many updates there are left because once I'm writing, I get into it and things change (the way an author's story changes over years of writing and editing a book before it's finally published, hehe; not to say this story will take another whole year to be completed, but simply that the number of chapters may increase), but please know that I intend on completing this story, which has been so kind and healing to me in ways you can't imagine. 🥹

Alright, that's enough of my yapping. Thank you so much for reading, pookies! I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and that I didn't dissapoint. And finally, happy two years of Nonviolent Communication! 💕

Alondra❤️

p.s. THEY HUGGED! Miguel didn't want to let go? 😭 The sweet nicknames? Their stomachs feeling fuzzy? Someone hold me, please! Also, Harry... 😐Should we forgive him?

Taglist: (post about this will be made soon, keep an eye out for it!)

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

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

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

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@coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme

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@nina-from-317 @kavimoo @heubstr

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the spider gang, too, of course.

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

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

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

They don't know you like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reilly seems to have a crush on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It can’t be. Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is this a date?

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

Nope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘A Peter.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, no fuzzy feelings for him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Miguel replies, raising an eyebrow.

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

“But?” Miguel inquires gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were just staring,” you counter.

“I was just thinking.”

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

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

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

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

“You are!” you continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is this it?

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

So, could this moment be it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A/N:

Hiii, pookies!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alondra❤️

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

Taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

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

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

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

@tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies

@coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme

@lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection

@kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

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

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis

@f1-hoff @llumetrii

(Also, lmao, I'm gonna be honest-- I found that part with Ben's friends so hard to write. I told another mootie this, but I felt secondhand embarrassment and annoyance — and cringe — having to write their dialogue. They def felt so punchable asking about Peter😭😀)

Also, SJDKFJDLJ THE DIFFERENT FONTS AND SIZES ARE SENDING ME. I can see how the slow burn is getting to you, HAHA!!

Talking about the slow burn… um… 🙂 It's ongoing, hehe! 🤭🤭

THE HUG -- IT'S HAPPENING SOON!! I promise. 😭😭

Hahaha, that line about the kiss not being on the table -- tell me why I felt you were going to mention it in your feedback? I just knew it! 🙂‍↕️

Sorry about the almost hug, pooks! I just had to tease you guys a little longer, hehe. I couldn't stop myself from not teasing it, but let's talk about how MIGUEL WAS MAKING THE ATTEMP!!! HE WAS GOING FOR IT!!🥹🥹🥹

Aww, omg pooks, I feel that so much because I'm burning right next with you with this slow burn!! Just know, we're closer to them being together! ALSO, THE FREAKING KERMIT ON FIRE IS SENDING ME. 😭😭 That really is us!

Also, haha! Hobie, Peter, and Pav were definitely plotting in pushing Miguel to say something about the Ben situation at the cafeteria. They want Miguel and us to be TOGETHER already! 🗣🗣🗣

As to the number of chapters, AAAAA, I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY ARE LEFT! I think maybe 30 ish. We're definitely closer to the end of this fic! 🥰

Lmao I feel you sm in just wanting to push them into each other's arms lol. I want them to hug, too!

EEEEE, MIGUEL BLUSHING BECAUSE OF DULZURA'S MOAN -- YES! I was trying to make a parallel to the time Miguel moaned and Dulzura was the one who blushed! 🤭 And… Setting up some things with that, too, hehe!! 🤭🤭

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, POOKS!!!! 💕💖🫶🏼✨️🥹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the spider gang, too, of course.

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

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

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

They don't know you like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reilly seems to have a crush on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It can’t be. Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is this a date?

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

Nope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘A Peter.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, no fuzzy feelings for him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Halfway through the dessert, Miguel clears his throat. His cheeks are less red now, though a light blush remains. Stirring his straw around the cup, which looks miniature in his large hand, Miguel turns to gaze at you; a question lingering in his mind.

“So…” he starts softly. “How was your… ?”

A small smile forms on your face as you hear Miguel trailing off, not sure what to call what you had. “I think… It was a date,” you answer, turning to gaze at him.

“Yeah?” Miguel replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… I did notice that the others were only there as friends. Not as dates.”

“But?” Miguel inquires gently.

“But… They had picnic blankets and everyone sat on one besides Ben. That left me to sit with him alone.”

Miguel hums, placing that piece of information as small evidence to support his suspicion about Ben having feelings for you. There’s still no indication of your feelings, though.

“I didn't mind. Maybe the others are used to that, or maybe they didn't want to sit with me. Either way, I shared the picnic blanket with him and noticed he moved closer and closer as the conversation continued. Then, we had this conversation as a group. It makes me think.. Maybe Ben's friends were trying to gather information.”

“Oh…” Miguel swallows, bothered by the fact that Ben tried to move closer to you without a care for your comfort and boundaries. “What makes you think that?”

“Well… His friends brought up the fact that I’m single, which I didn’t like because one of them said I had lost ‘a Peter’. I’m sure she didn’t mean to word it like that, but,” you sigh. “It still rubbed me the wrong way, as if he was insignificant.” Shaking your head, you sigh again. “They clarified they brought it up because they were discussing everyone who is unattached and the topic of me losing Peter came up, apparently. It did seemed a little out of place to mention that today, given we don't know each other that well. Maybe… They wanted to clarify for some reason?”

“Well, first, I do hope it was a mistake they worded it like that because that did sound wrong,” Miguel starts, understanding why the wording came off like that for you. “And about the unattached comment… It could be mere gossip, Dulzura,” Miguel continues, trying to offer another reason for their curiosity regarding your relationship status, though it’s unclear if it’s more for you or for himself. “I do know that in the past — before you were here — I used to be a topic of discussion for many.”

“I know,” you answer turning to face him again and offering a look of understanding. “And I’ve told you, you don’t owe anyone explanations. People will gossip, all the time, so, I do see them merely gossiping about this.”

Miguel nods, releasing a small sigh. “Though, there is the chance that… You know.”

“Right,” you answer taking a short sip from your drink, thinking. “It could be that Ben…”

“Has feelings for you and his friends were asking to help him out,” Miguel finishes quietly.

With a hum, you take another spoonful of yogurt, a short silence following before you break it. “But to be honest?”

“Yeah?” Miguel responds, gazing at you with curiosity.

“We could be totally wrong,” you say with a small smile. “I never want to mistake kindness for something else.”

Miguel nods, understanding what you mean. There are people who mistake kindness, or even simple politeness, as flirting and romantic interest when there’s none.

“And besides,” you continue, still gazing at Miguel. “Respectfully, I have no interest in pursuing a relationship right now,” you add. “Much less with Ben. I see him as a simple friendly coworker, so I hope he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“So you don’t…? For Ben?” Miguel asks, finding it easier to breathe thanks to your confession.

“No,” you answer quickly, shaking your head to emphasize the point. “No, I don’t.”

“Alright, well, I… You know, I wasn’t sure,” Miguel continues, scratching his neck with his free hand. “I thought maybe you did, but hadn't said anything out of shyness.”

“No, I don't have feelings for him, so now you know,” you answer before eating more of your yogurt, feeling lighter inside now that you’ve told Miguel; now that he no longer thinks you have feelings for Ben. “So…”

“So…” Miguel repeats, slowly smiling at you and watching you eat.

“What?” you ask, raising your eyebrows when you realize he’s watching you.

“Nothing,” Miguel replies, turning to finish his yogurt.

“You were just staring,” you counter.

“I was just thinking.”

“Hm… About what?” you inquire, getting Miguel to face you again.

You gaze at each other, your yogurts forgotten for now, with serious faces. A few seconds in, your lips twitch upwards, something Miguel notices and makes his lips do the same. It’s a domino effect; you notice his lips twitch, too, and it just makes yours do the same again and so on until you both burst into fits of laughter while sitting on the rooftop, away from the rest of the world and multiverse.

You cover your mouth to hide your giggling and point to Miguel, pointing out that he’s laughing.

“I’m not —” Miguel manages, unable to finish before another laugh escapes him, laughing so hard he feels his chest vibrate with the movement.

“You are!” you continue.

“So are you!” Miguel answers, pointing back at you, which makes you shake your head in denial.

“I’m laughing because you’re laughing,” you respond in between giggles.

Your laughter continues a bit more before you both settle down, feeling happy and light as though you're both on top of the world.

After catching your breath from all the laughter, you gaze at each other and exchange soft and tender smiles.

The thought that you’re enjoying yourself a million times more with Miguel than you were with Ben and his friends crosses your mind then.

Based on what happened today, you have a feeling that the invitation from Ben was a silent date and you’re sorry to say it, but if it was, it didn't go well.

You’ve enjoyed yourself a million times more in half an hour with Miguel than you did with Ben in over an hour.

You're not saying that this is a date, of course, but… It goes to show how comfortable and close you are with Miguel, your best friend.

Still gazing and smiling at Miguel, a little chuckle escapes from your lips as you think about how badly you wish you could hug him right now. If you could, you would’ve already thrown your arms around him and hold on tight for a few seconds, or rather a few minutes.

“What’s that little chuckle for?” Miguel questions, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Sighting through your nose, you continue to smile at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” you ask.

Hearing your words, Miguel’s face softens. “I know,” he answers softly, yet again experiencing this feeling in his chest that he’s felt before. It’s like a beam of golden light, swirling and shining inside him. It’s so intense, it feels like it might explode from his very chest, but he cannot help it. Not the previous times nor today. Not ever. Of that, Miguel is certain. “And you’re mine,” Miguel answers, the itch to hug you coming forth once more.

His free hand curls into a gentle fist at the thought and itch. This right here — this moment — is what he would consider a ‘perfect’ moment for an embrace.

Miguel swallows, his heart beginning to race as he considers it.

Is this it?

Miguel asks himself that as he continues to gaze at you. For months now, the thought has been on his mind. He's been building himself up for more touch; for what he considers the biggest step yet in his healing journey and has gone back and forth on when and how to make this possible.

So, could this moment be it?

Miguel leans just a tad closer, his fist loosening despite his racing heart. A mixture of excitement and nerves forms in his tummy as he builds himself up for the moment, slowly but steadily, but then, the chance slips away when you stand up.

“How about we go home?” you ask with a smile, unaware of how close Miguel came to taking that step.

“I — Yes,” Miguel answers, caught off guard. Just like that, the moment has fled, but he reassures himself that the moment will come. It will, at its due time. “Let's go home.”

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you excuse yourself to change into your comfy clothes — promising Miguel to meet him in the living room in a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Miguel throws away the empty cups and turns on the stove for the last little surprise he has in store for you. Leaving that on, Miguel heads upstairs, too, to change into his lounging clothes.

As he walks down the hallway to his bedroom, he notices your door is open and that you seem to be in the bathroom. He briefly glances inside your room, but he ends up doing a double take when something catches his eyes, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Without thinking, Miguel enters your room, equally surprised and filled with tenderness due to the discovery. Carefully, Miguel picks up the plushie sitting on your bed with a smile. You have a plushie of him.

“Oh —” you gasp, walking into your room only to find Miguel holding your little secret. Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment and a minor panic coursing through your body because he has discovered the plushie. Facepalming, you remember you failed to place it back in your closet before leaving due to your nerves. “I can explain, Miguel. I — um —” You stop when Miguel begins to turn to face you, fearing that he's weirded out.

Noticing your reaction instantly, Miguel steps closer to you with a gentle smile. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he reassures you softly.

“I hope you don't think it’s weird, Miguel,” you reply with a little pout that makes Miguel want to melt.

“God no, why would I think it’s weird?” he asks with an amused yet gentle smile. “I think it’s incredibly sweet of you to have it, and to reassure you… Give me a few seconds.”

“What — Where are you going?” you ask as Miguel leaves your room, still holding the plushie.

A few seconds later, Miguel returns with one of his hands behind his back. Smiling, he shows you the plushie of himself before revealing what’s behind him. “I got it a while back,” Miguel shyly states, presenting a plushie of you.

“You have one of me…?” you say, looking at the plushie before looking up at him, surprised.

“Yes, I bought it a while back from Mr. Stanley’s store. I wanted to tell you about it, but I felt the same way. I thought maybe you’d find it strange, or even silly that I bought it. So, I’ve kept it in one of the drawers in my office. I personally think it’s sweet,” Miguel continues.

You shake your head in both disbelief and amusement to hear that you’ve both kept plushies a secret from each other.

Taking your plushie of Miguel from his offering hand, you smile sheepishly at each other. “I think it’s sweet you have one of me, too,” you answer with a small chuckle as you both press the plushies next to each other to look at them.

“See? No reason to be embarrassed, then,” Miguel replies. “Maybe… We can stop hiding them now.”

You nod in agreement. “I agree. The cat is out of the bag now.”

“I think I’m going to place mine in the living room,” Miguel shares. “Near the record player… You’re welcomed to place yours there, too.”

That’s exactly what you do once you’re both downstairs. You both place the plushies next to each other near the records player, looking so cute side by side.

You’re still staring at them when you receive a new notification, one you ignore by putting away all your devices to the side, including your gizmo. You’re home, which means you can unwind and forget about everything else, even the new message that unbeknownst to you, is from Harry.

Harry: Are you home? I was wondering if you’re up for a coffee. Let me know!

You sigh softly and slip the simple bracelet that prevents you from glitching in your free wrist, deciding that all notifications can be taken care off tomorrow just as a mug appears in your line of vision.

“Surprise,” Miguel says in a singsong voice, giving you a warm smile.

“You made café de olla while I was gone?” you ask, happily accepting the mug.

Smiling sheepishly, Miguel nods. He did more than make café de olla. The reorganized drawers and cabinets in the kitchen are a testament to that, but he decides to leave that out for now. You don’t need to know or get an idea about his restlessness while you were gone at Ben’s universe.

“I did,” Miguel replies, carrying his own mug and walking to the record player. His gaze lingers on the plushies for a few seconds, finding the sight of them together endearing, before he chooses a record from his collection to play.

He settles on the ground next to you, his arm brushing against yours, just as nostalgic notes fill the cozy living room accompanied with sentimental lyrics — a perfect melody for an evening like this one with a nice mug of coffee and the company of someone dear to you.

Drinking from your mug, you smile and gaze from your spot out the windows, noticing the moon. There may have been a moon event at Ben's universe, but here in Nueva York with Miguel at your side, the moon looks far lovelier and bewitching.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N:

Hiii, pookies!

I can't believe it's been months since I updated NC 😭😭 After the last update, I was so excited to continue updating regularly, but then life happened. Thankfully, here's the update!

I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing for NC again!💖✨️

Also, if you noticed some errors, pls excuse them. As some of you may know, my laptop is currently out of service so I used my phone and tablet — mainly my tablet with a wireless keyboard — to write this chapter. For some reason, my keyboard was a bit of an annoyance since it kept switching between languages while I typed and the notion app kept deleting entire paragraphs (never happens on my phone, but on my tablet it did). 🫠 Hopefully, I'll have my laptop running again soon 😭

For this chapter, I want to give credit to two people (hopefully they're still reading). One, to a nonnie, who sent an ask a while back asking how Miguel would react to hearing someone say Dulzura is with someone/looks cute with someone else when he's so used to people thinking Dulzura and him are dating. I took inspo from that ask for this chapter, so thank you, nonnie!

I also want to give credit to Mercy for the plushie scene because they sent an ask about this idea, and it was too cute to not include it! Thank you, Mercy! @mercynguyen I need a Miguel plushie so bad 😭

So this chapter... Someone needs to hold Miguel and Dulzura's hands and tell them straight to their faces, at this point 😭 but EEEEE, the way they're right there... so close. And Miguel wanting to hug Dulzura, and almost doing it! Also, what did you think about the Ben stuff? And Miguel's reaction to it? 🤭 Let me know because me personally, this was me

I also want to make a quick note about a detail from chapter 22 that I forgot to mention due to the timing (it being New Year's) and length of my author's note. The detail is regarding the knots on the bracelets Miguel and Dulzura gifted each other. During my little research and brain storming for gift ideas for them, I came across the bracelets and learned about the True Lover's Knot -- symbolizing friendship, affection, and love. 🥹

To conclude, thank you so much for reading NC. It truly means so much to me that there's still many of you reading this story despite my slow updates and it being almost 2 years since this fic first started (in July we will reach the 2 year mark). Also, thank you for keeping up with me and for being understanding and kind! ❤️

I hope you're all doing well and having a great Sunday so far. Pls take care of yourselves and know that I love you, pookies! 💖💕

Alondra❤️

p.s. I've been thinking about cleaning up the taglist since I feel like a lot of the people on it are no longer reading/not active. This might solve the issue that some readers have had, which is that they don't receive the notification despite being tagged. I will be making a post about this soon, asking anyone interested in being tagged to engage with the post, so keep an eye out for that if you want to be part of the new taglist :))

Taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

@natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

@vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9

@tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies

@coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme

@lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection

@kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

@aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis

@f1-hoff @llumetrii

It was rough how you ended up here in another dimension and it wasn’t ideal either. Earlier, you were on a mission with Miguel and doing the usual of tracking and containing anomalies. However, this one was a little rough, giving both you and Miguel a hard time with how slippery it had been.  Arriving at the scene, Miguel quickly barked orders at you to scan the place to track and trace any possible disrupted canon events. While he went one way, you went the other and for a while, neither of you had been able to grab it. Until your watch pinged with a hologram of Miguel’s face calling to tell you he found the anomaly and was leading it towards you for some backup. Putting on your mask, you swung away on your webs to meet him halfway.

One thing led to another and both of you were hollering at each other different plans and strategies since this anomaly was somehow escaping every chance it got. Miguel grabbed on its neck and yanked it back which made it screech and slam him against a brick wall. He grunted and let go from the sheer force of it. The anomaly went head first for you to which you jumped on its back. Eventually, you held onto it and tried to use your watch to open a portal. The anomaly tried ripping you off it, scratching your watch and damaging the touch pad. Whatever number you tried putting in, was jumbled up and yet a portal opened up anyway. Time and space warped around you two, the wormhole trying to suck up anything. The anomaly then grabbed you and ripped you off its back, throwing you into the portal which shut right after you went through. So here you are, in a dimension that isn’t your New York, but it did look like a certain someone’s Nueva York. Tall buildings, hovercrafts and holographic billboards were plastered everywhere. You looked down at your watch and saw claw marks on the touchpad, small sparks of electricity fizzed out but it wasn’t too damaged, you decided. You weren’t glitching so you counted that as a win. You heard a familiar zip of web shooters being used from above. Tilting your head up, you saw the familiar red and mostly blue suit swinging by and ignoring you. You squinted at the figure leaving.

“Miguel…?” You whispered to yourself. Pushing the watch problem aside, you began following him, trying to catch up to him. “Miguel!” You called out through the whipping winds as you gained speed.

His figure thwipped around, seemingly trying to get you off his tail. You grew frustrated. Why was he just avoiding you? If he was here, that means the anomaly had gotten away and it’d be more work for both of you.

He then made a sharp turn around a tall building. You nearly passed it but you stopped yourself just in time to swivel your head around to see where he had gone. Your eyes honed in on his figure crawling up the side of the building and into an open window. With determination, you shot your web to the building and began crawling up. Once you made it to the damn near very top, you opened the window and crawled in. With your feet now planted on the floor, you took off your mask and looked around. It was a bedroom and a large one at that with a giant king sized bed and a giant set up where you assumed would display a holographic screen. You noted it was dark too with all the lights switched off and Miguel was nowhere to be seen. You were sure you saw him crawl in this room. You began walking around the room just to make sure, trying to find anything. When you didn’t–the lack of pictures was appalling– you made your way over to the bedroom door and took a peek outside of it. The hallways were just as dark, if not darker. You took a step out and squinted your eyes, hoping your vision would adjust to the lighting.

You heard a shift far in front of you and paused in your steps. You tried focusing on whatever was in front of you and that’s when you saw red eyes. You froze and held your breath while the eyes simply watched you, slightly moving as it seemingly saw you through the dark.

These eyes were familiar to you and so you dropped your guard. “Miguel…?” You called out again. “What the hell? I was right behind you! Did the anomaly throw you in here too?”

You tried approaching him but then backed up when he came closer as well, at a faster rate than you thought. Your gasped and your spider senses went haywire. With a bit of difficulty on your end, you looked up to see someone who wasn’t Miguel. Or you thought.

The man had Miguel’s scarlet orbs, but instead of brown hair he had dark red hair to match his eyes. Instead of brown skin, he had white skin. He had a similar face shape with the same sharp cheekbones and strong jawline but his face was a bit longer than that. You noticed a five o’clock shadow he might’ve been planning to shave off soon. His height was shorter than your Miguel but it was still tall enough to tower over you. His face was in a scowl, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, on guard for the danger that he decided you were. You took a glance down his chest, the spider emblem different than you remember–much sharper than your Miguel’s geometric shapes.

“Who…who are you?” You asked, taking a few steps back and this man following, his eyes never leaving yours. If you searched for a while longer, you would’ve seen a hint of disbelief and hidden fondness.

“Miguel O’Hara. Who are you?” He growled. You gulped flinching when your back hit the wall and his clawed hand struck the space by your head to cage you against him.

You stated your name with a shake of your voice. It seemed to anger him further.

“Don’t lie to me.” He grit his teeth, his lips curled to show his fangs.

“It–It’s not! I swear!” You insisted. “Listen, I can explain. I’m from another dimension. I–I’m part of this society full of other people like us—with spider powers. I got…blasted here by some villain when I was with you—or the variant you–but I’m not here to fight some more.” You sighed, hoping he could have some sense and maybe believe you.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed down at you to search and scan for just an ounce of lying in your tone but he found none. His facade cracked for a moment, almost melancholy and sad before hardening again. He separated from you, standing taller and retracting his talons back to his fingertips. You saw him hesitate to lift his hand up but he decided against it. “How did you get here?” He asked lowly.

You lifted your wrist to show your damaged watch. “It’s more or less a dimension hopping device,” You elaborated. Miguel attempted to slip it off your wrist but you stopped him. “I have to keep it on or else I’ll start glitching and–it hurts.” You laughed nervously a bit at the end. Miguel’s facial expression didn’t waver. He only held your wrist–gently at that– and turned it around to examine it.

“I can fix it.” He murmured nonchalantly with a raise of his reddish eyebrow. You sighed. Even in another dimension, Miguel is just as sure of himself. He looked up to meet your eyes, softer but still guarded. “If you’ll let me.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, please, of course. That’d be great. Thank you.” He let go of your hand and turned around to a space in his home where various inventions laid around and you followed suit with big eyes. “Woah… This is..cool.” You mumbled. Miguel looked over his shoulder as he walked, a ghost of a fond smile on his lips when you weren’t looking. Then suddenly, a bright yellow figure popped up. She was life sized with long white blonde hair in a side part with a white long dress.

“Welcome home, Miguel,” She placed her hands behind her back and gave him a dimpled smile. Her smile faltered when she saw you. “Is that–”

Miguel cut her off by introducing your name to her. “She’s from another dimension. That’s all, Lyla.” You couldn’t see Miguels face but you did see Lyla’s–which you were surprised at the stark difference. You saw her eyes glance at Miguel and then stand up a bit taller, her smile coming back. It was as if they had a mutual understanding.

“Of course, Miguel.” She closed her eyes and phased out again, leaving the two of you alone again. Miguel turned around to face you and gestured to a stool by a nearby table. You walked over and sat on it, Miguel grabbing another chair–and a toolbox it seemed–and placing himself beside you. He offered his hand and you gave it to him, your size difference being much clearer. Miguel took off his suit gloves which surprised you once more since your Miguel’s suit wasn’t necessarily standard fabric like this one. But since this one had claws too, the suit must also be made of some technology you’re not aware of.

Miguel took a look inside the damage the claws had done to the watch and began working on it silently. You took the time to notice his features and began comparing it to the other Miguel subconsciously.

The five o’clock shadow you had noticed before was also coming in red. It seemed like this version of Miguel leaned more into his Irish side. His hair was in a short side part, with his fringe falling on his forehead but he didn’t seem to pay any mind to it. The small glances he took at you made you see his eyes more clearly. They were the same red as your Miguel and equally as beautiful.

You pushed that thought away. It was strange to think that way about your boss’ variant, much less your boss himself. You admit he’s handsome–the two of them– and you could also tell that they knew that.

“Had enough staring?” He asked when you turn away to shake off your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, it’d sound like he was teasing you.

“Have you?” You shot back. “I saw you staring too.”

“I was.” Miguel answered simply. He placed a screwdriver down, popping open the screen and examining it further. “Sorry about that. You…remind me of someone.”

The air had felt heavier. You had a gut feeling and you decided to see if you were right. “Did you know another me?”

Miguel nods, not looking up. “My own you, she passed,” He picks apart the device carefully, making sure to not damage it further. “Seeing you and sensing you…I was convinced you were some villain trying to haunt me. But I know now that it’s not true.” He says with little to no emotion. Maybe he was just hiding it under a facade. It wouldn’t be the first time you were on that end.

“I’m sorry,” You tried to apologize but he stood up, taking a piece of your watch with him.

“Nothing’s really damaged other than the screen. It shouldn’t be a problem to fix.” He says softly, and turns away to another side of the room. You purse your lips, deciding whether or not to play into his bad habits of closing off when he just opened up. You decided the former and asked another question.

“How long will it take?”

He pauses. “Do you hate it here already?”

“What?! No. No, of course not! I mean, I can't hate what I don’t know. Not to say I don’t know you. I know a Miguel just maybe you’re different. Which isn’t a bad thing but it’s just I can’t overstay–I need to go home because that would be invading your space.”

Miguel looks over at you and the corners of his lips are turned up. “I was joking.”

You stop your rambling and frown at him. “Your humor is bland.” Miguel laughs through his nose and shakes his head.

“You’re still the same…” He murmurs to himself. He shrugs off that thought, thinking it was disrespectful to the you that he once knew.

“It won’t take long,” He speaks to you. “I don’t have the exact materials as this but it’s still possible to make them. It should take a couple days. Maybe a little more or less a week.” He pulls up a holographic monitor and touches across the screen.

A week, you thought to yourself, at best. Miguel took another look around the damaged screen he’d plucked off your watch.

“Did I make this?” He looked over at you and you instinctively sat up straighter. “The other me.” He clarified.

“Well, yeah,” You shrugged on one side. “Made the blueprint and had Lyla help make it.”

“Lyla?” He hummed with a raise of his eyebrows. “Hm.” His jaw clenched, feeling a tinge of envy for his counterpart. He did dimensional travel and he had you around? It wasn’t fair. With a click of his tongue, he placed the screen back down and moved away from the table, opting out to type things you couldn’t see on another monitor.

You felt awkward sitting there with nothing to do so you stood up and looked around, keeping a respectful distance from Miguel and his things. You didn’t notice the way he stopped typing and admired you through the reflection of his monitor.

Same curve of your nose, shape of your jaw, same way your eyelashes fluttered. Miguel wished you were a ghost in that moment, maybe then he wouldn’t feel that agonizing itch to hold you again. “Do you…want a change of clothes?” He asked you, pulling you out of your bubble. “I have some of her things still here, lying around.” He offered, trying to appear nonchalant. You looked down at your spider suit. It was a bit dirtied from being thrown around so you could use a pair of comfortable clothes.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to ruin her things or anything.”

Miguel shook his head and made his way out, ushering you to follow him. “I insist. I’d rather her things be used than lying around anyway.” You two had walked into his bedroom again. He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out some shirt and sweatpants. He held onto them a little longer before inhaling and passing them to you.

You looked at the clothes, noting how he looked at them “I really don’t have to wear them–”

“Please.” Miguel insisted. You blinked once and licked your lips, giving him time to make sure before you took it in your hands. You held it close to your chest.

“Bathroom?” You asked. He pointed down the hall and you followed, closing the door behind you and leaving Miguel alone with his thoughts. He rummaged through his drawer to find his own set of comfortable clothes outside his suit. He thought to himself, thinking about you and trying to find any differences. Your nose bridge was different but the tip of it was the same. Your hair texture was the same but you had a slightly different hue.

He didn’t know whether or not he wanted to help you. On one hand, you were the ghost of his past–the figure that taunted him of his failures as Miguel and as Spider-Man. But on the other hand, he missed you. All he ever wanted was to see you again and he wanted to selfishly keep seeing you. He sat at the edge of his bed, battling with his inner thoughts until he heard you come back.

Miguel looked up and got the wind knocked out of his chest. They fit you perfectly like you bought these yourself. You smiled awkwardly at him, thinking it was weird for him to see you in his dead girlfriend's clothes but he just nodded.

“Looks like it fits.” He choked out.

“They do. Thanks, again.” You smiled wearily. One week. He’d enjoy you for one week and maybe–just maybe– ask if you can come back.

Miguel didn't like the fact you offered to stay in his penthouse while he did his Spider-Man duties. Even more so when he knew you didn’t like sitting still either and only offered out of politeness. He guessed that if you were anything like him now, a being with super powers, it meant you also felt a responsibility to do something and help people. So, he invited you to join his patrols.

You declined at first. “I’ve already crashed your universe–”

“Would it kill you to just join me without being so high and mighty?” He asked with a pointed look knowing you were too nice for your own good even in his universe. You sighed through your nose and reluctantly agreed, still feeling awkward around him despite his not so stubble attempts to make you comfortable. Which was strange considering your initial hostile encounter.

For the next few days, it seemed patrolling was a nice bonding time for you two. Surprisingly, you worked well together like he knew just how you worked and acted accordingly. He knew once you spotted a small crime going on, he’d let you get the first punch in since you were a bit competitive. While swinging, he figured out you liked to hang in the air for a moment longer before using your webs again ao he swung at a distance while you could do your flips and jumps. For the entire week, you had forgotten you were technically stranded here but that fact didn’t seem to bother you.

Along with that, Miguel worked on fixing your watch, creating a small wristband that would delay your glitching while he took the device. Eventually, he did fix it and turned it brand new again. You were incredibly grateful and he just smiled softly at you through his shaded glasses. You slipped it on and was prepared to head home when he stopped you and asked if you’d like to go on a final patrol with him. You fiddled with your watch, debating but you did feel a small part of you not wanting to leave him, strangely enough. So, you went.

It had been late by the time you came back to his penthouse, opting to crawl through the window of his bedroom. The night was hotter than expected, both of you leaning on the wall to catch your breaths after ripping off your masks.

“Made sure no one followed?” You asked with a heavy sigh. Miguel propped himself off the wall and leaned over to glance outside the window beside you, his hand placed next to your head and his hand subconsciously held your hip, making you freeze. He didn’t seem to notice even as you stared shamelessly up at him. Miguel’s eyes were focused and sharp, a stark contrast to the way he squinted under his sunglasses during the daytime. His arm by your head flexed as he moved to keep himself steady but the hand on your hip was warm and comforting that left your heart fluttering. Sure, he was handsome–but you couldn’t, right? Right?

Miguel’s eyes found yours again and for a moment was confused why you seemed so stiff. You looked up at him with beady and bashful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He instinctively looked down at your lips and back to your eyes, his hand moving up to your waist. He hunched over you, caging you to the wall and making you feel the heat radiating off his body. You stared straight even as he closed in on you by your ear, your heart pounding in your chest and down to your abdomen.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” He whispered by your ear, his thumbs by your waist caressed your hip bone, a subtle reminder of his sweetness underneath his rough exterior. Despite the short time spent together, he was sure you felt something for him after basically living with him. He was still at a distance but with your lack of reply, he took that as an answer and took a step back away from you.

Before he could, you grabbed onto his arms, keeping him in place and close to you. “No,” You said quickly. “No, don’t stop. Please.” You whispered, your heart hammering inside your chest.

Miguel came back to you, his arms securing himself around you, his own heartbeat increasing in speed. “Are you sure?” He asked softly.

You nodded. “Please.” You whispered again. Miguel took one arm off your waist to cup your cheek and tilt it up to face him. You felt heat crawl up to your cheeks meanwhile Miguel looked like he was about to take a bite of the forbidden fruit that was you. He was entranced and a little needy and eager to feel your lips on his again. Despite you being a different version of the one he knew–it was still you. Down to your hair, eyes and lips. Even the way your nose would scrunch in disgust and the way you walked and fiddled with your fingers. It was all still you. He wasn’t going to lose his chance.

So he kissed you.

He kissed you like a man starved, practically bending your back as he curled himself on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to gain some stability while he pulled you close enough for you to go on your tiptoes. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and his hand left your cheek to bend slightly to pick you up. You got the hint and wrapped your legs around him and Miguel pressed you up against the wall. His growing erection grinding slowly on your clothed heat, making the two of you moan.

Your fingers curled into his fiery hair just the way he liked and his hands grabbed at every piece of flesh he could squeeze in his palms. Miguel’s lips separated from yours, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until he brought his lips down to your neck. You leaned your head back on the wall while he worked his magic, licking and nipping at your flesh with care due to his fangs. You heard him moan, gripping you tighter as he tasted you and your breathing became heavier.

Miguel lifted you off the wall, hurrying towards his bedroom and plopping your body down on the plush, soft mattress. He took your thighs and separated them to see the wet patch seeping out your spider suit. You felt his talons gently probing your skin and his eyes met yours again as he paused.

You nodded once again and with new vigor, he took one clawed hand and slashed the bottom half of your suit apart along with your panties. You gasped.

“Miguel…!”

“I’ll get you ten shocking suits. Just let me have you.” He groaned and delved between your legs. He licked up a stripe and your breath hitched, your hands immediately finding his hair. Miguel felt himself strain in his own suit, bucking his hips pathetically against anything he could find while he ate you out. His tongue probed your entrance and his nose rubbed against your clit that made your arch your back and thrust yourself on his mouth. His fingers joined his mouth in pushing you to your limit, coaxing more moans and whimpers from your pouting lips.

You covered up your mouth with your hand, covering up your face in embarrassment. The sounds of Miguel slurping and licking up your essence made you so much more wet and weak. You squirm underneath his hands and Miguel growls, using his strength to keep your legs in place and apart while he indulges in the taste of you. His eyes are closed, salivating and devouring your juices with every lap of his tongue. His fingers spread your lips open, sliding one finger in and swirling his tongue in your pussy. You clench around his wet muscle and finger, feeling him smirk against you.

Miguel continues to ease his finger inside you, pumping it too slowly for your liking. You whined which made his cock twitch and you pleaded for more. Drunk on your sweetness, he complied and added a second finger, the stretch becoming evident. You arched your back off the bed and you felt Miguel's other hand caress your thigh comfortingly. His moans send vibrations to your clit and grind yourself desperately on him while squealing his name.

“Hmm–Fuck, Mi-ggy…” You whined, pressing your thighs around his head. You felt Miguel pause for a split second, the nickname you’ve given him had gone straight between his legs. He gained more confidence to please you, taking his fingers out to grab your breast and sucking on your clit. The sensation of him forcibly spreading you apart again and the combination of your nipple being tweaked pulled and his tongue made you feel shocks of electricity down your spine. You felt the pit of your abdomen growing with your upcoming climax and you started thrashing around as much as you could with Miguel holding you down.

“Miggy! Fuck–Don’t stop!” As if he would ever, now that he’s tasted your delectable pussy. He only continued the same pace that had you squirming and chasing you high. His fingers teasing your nipples after every swirl of his tongue and the bubble pops inside you.

You scream his name into the air and grip on the sheets beside you while screwing your eyes shut. You humped on his eager mouth, drinking in whatever you gave him with a satisfied hum. He pressed closer to make sure he could lap up as much as he could but still, drips of you slid down his chin and around his lips. You mewled when the high finished and you were left with a sensitive pussy that he still made sure to clean you up with his mouth.

With hazy eyes, you stared at him still between your legs, watching with a smirk as you collected yourself. Miguel swirled his tongue around his lips to clean himself off and even used his hands to scoop up the parts he couldn’t reach to lick it off spotlessly, not a single ounce of your cum going to waste. It made you burn in embarrassment but also gaining a weak pulse to your twitching pussy.

He kneeled over you, drinking in your naked body from the flyaways in your hair to the way your legs shook after just orgasming. His stare was intense and it made you want to hide yourself from just how long he’d been looking at you for. You didn’t know it, but Miguel felt a twinge of heartache in his chest. He missed you–the other you dearly– and it felt strange that in a way you’re still here but different. He felt afraid that this might’ve been on impulse. You look like her, sound like her, but yet you haven’t experienced things with him like her. The you in front of him was, in a way, a whole different woman.

“Miguel?” You gently pulled him out of his mind. Oh, how your eyes still send his heart racing when he looks at you. Your eyes held concern and worry in them. Was he regretting it? Should you stop? It was the opposite. One look at you and Miguel’s worries had faded.

It’s still you down to your core. The one he had truly fallen in love with. In every lifetime and in every universe, he was meant to be beside you. He leaned in to nuzzle against the softness of your neck and pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw. “Nothing,” He eased your worries. “You’re just simply gorgeous.” He murmured and you felt a blush crawl up your neck.

Miguel made his way down your neck to your chest where he continued to leave kisses in his wake. His head of red hair curled slightly from the sweat that had built up between the two of you and it tickled you on his way down. Your bashful state was cut short when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and it made you whimper. Your mind had gone up in the clouds once more when he began suckling on the bud, the nerves of it sending signals to your pussy, making you wet again.

Miguel took a moment to rid himself of his own suit and underwear, returning to please your tender breasts. His knee had gone in between your thighs to push one leg away and his hand delved down to rub your swollen clit. His fingers rubbed in small circles that made you melt and lean your head back while his mouth continued its attack on gently biting your now hardened nipples. Your hands ran through his hair which encouraged him further and you both moaned in unison.

Miguel pulled away from your tits, a small smirk on his lips as he saw the bitemark around your bud beginning to form. His hand left your sopping cunt and licked off the sweet nectar that was you with a hum of his voice. The sight left you shivering and he leaned back down to kiss you, making you taste yourself. You mewled as he forced his tongue inside to find yours in a heated dance. Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your chest up which made him groan when he felt your hard nipples graze his skin.

You felt a blunt poke at your entrance and Miguel pulled away just enough for his forehead to be above yours. He looked into your eyes, another check to see if this is what you wanted–what you both wanted. You nodded again, firmly this time, and he didn’t need another second.

Miguel pushed his fat cockhead between your lips to coat his length before entering it inside you. You winced and Miguel buried himself in your neck, his hand on your hip, caressing you and encouraging you to hold onto him. You wrapped your arms around him as he pushed further inside you, his size being nothing you’ve experienced. “I know, I know,” He shushed you, kissing your neck to distract you. “Such a pretty girl. You can take it, sweetheart.”

You whimpered at his praise, digging your nails in his back that left red crescents behind, a faint click sounding out that neither of you heard when you bumped your hand on his shoulder. “Miguel…” You moaned, spreading your legs further apart while he shook, sliding himself inside you.

Miguel moaned your name back, finally pushing himself to the hilt and his balls slapping your cunt with a wet smack from the combination of your weeping core and his spit. You wiggled your hips at the snug fit and tried to get used to his size but he stopped you, hissing and digging his nails in your flesh to anchor himself from cumming immediately. He kissed your cheeks to ease you while he gently pulled in and out in small strokes.

“More….harder…” You mewled, your walls finally used to his girth and clamping down on his throbbing cock to suck him in deeper. Miguel grabbed your hips and lifted it up with his inhumane strength and began moving, his cock glistening with your slick when he pulled out and hearing it squelch inside your wet cunt when he pushed back in. Your nails scratched at his chest and he grabbed one of your hands to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “You’re driving me crazy,” Miguel moaned. “This cunt’s just been waiting to be fucked, huh?” He huffed, slowly gaining speed. When you didn’t respond, he slammed into you and made you scream from his tip hitting your sweet spot. “Yes!” You sobbed, feeling his hands push your legs up to your chest and hammered himself in your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him while he pounded into you, hiding yourself in his neck. The bed creaked below you two, sheets shuffling from the force of Miguel ravaging your body. Miguel rested his arm above your head and held onto your thigh, making sure you were spread open while he adjusted his position to be more comfortable while pistoning his throbbing cock. He let out small grunts and moans, nipping at your neck and being careful with his fangs. With his dick hitting a different spot, you wrapped your legs around his waist to push him deeper. It seemed like even with him stretching your walls and splitting you apart, it was never enough–you wanted more. In the pit of your stomach, you knew you needed to have something more. His fucking was still mind-blowing, his talons gently poking your plush thighs and balls slapping rhythmically to the sounds of your whimpers and cries, which he adored. “So pretty, you sing so pretty for me,” He murmured, choking on his own pleasure as he felt you gushing around him just from the sheer ecstasy that coursed through your veins. “So tight and so warm—oh, god–” He groaned, picking up pace that had you squealing and clenching around him. “Lemme fill this pretty pussy, hm? Can I? Hm?” He moaned, trailing his wet lips down your chest to latch onto your nippled again, His tongue flicking the perky nub and pulling it between his teeth.

“Yes, yes, yes–God, yes–please!” You wailed, your hands scratching his shoulder blades and digging into his skin for purchase while you bucked in time with his thrusting. You eyes rolled back then closing them to focus on the way his cockhead was slamming into your sweet spot at just the pace you liked. You felt Miguel suck on your nipple, switching to the other side to give it equal amounts of attention. You shuttered and cried his name, finally feeling the dam break inside you. “Miguel!” Your vision going white and the euphoria of it washing over your body while you felt your pussy cum all over his length and squeezing him. Miguel let out a guttural groan deep from his throat when he felt you cum and clamp around him. Your cum slicked his cock and pelvis, and he then went faster to reach his own orgasm. You thrashed under him, feeling incredibly sensitive while he kept slapping against your pussy and pounding inside your walls. You moaned that you were just too sensitive, tears collecting at your eyes from overstimulation. He let go of your nipple and kissed you quickly to stop your whining. He lifted his head to watch you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping onto him tightly and whimpering. His eyes were bewitched with the scene of your tits bouncing, bite marks littered across the plump flesh. His eyes scanning down to see your slick making a mess between your legs after cumming, the way small strings connected to his person. But the sight of his massive cock sliding easily inside your pussy, your folds welcoming him by wrapping around him–he snapped from within and came hard. Miguel quickly grabbed the sheets so his talons could rip through them instead of you, his body curling as he let out a final groan and his cock spurted his seed in you. He continued to pump his load, feeling his cock soften and twitch out the rest of himself in strings of salty cum–a white ring forming on the base of his dick. He huffed, shaking as he made sure all of his cum stayed inside you. When he pulled out, a small white string connected from his tip to your pussy, slipping apart when he was far away enough. He watched the mess between your legs for a moment, breathing heavily as his seed oozed out of your folds and his heart began to beat a little bit faster.

Miguel carefully lifted himself off the bed to go to the bathroom and returned with a towel to clean between your legs. He carefully wiped your clean, being extra careful around your abused pussy. He watched you to make sure you weren’t in any discomfort, but you nearly fell asleep with how gentle he was. Miguel tossed the soiled towel into his hamper and slid back into bed with you. He brought you into his chest while he laid on his back, and he brought his covers up to your chin. You wrapped yourself around him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly.

For a while, neither of you spoke, a strange comforting silence in the air. That is, until Miguel broke it.

“Miggy?” He asked. You grunted, still half-asleep and barely conscious.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, thinking it was rude of you to call him something so casually. Miguel huffed and looked down at you, his other hand petting your hair back.

“No, no. I didn’t mind. It was cute,” He smiled even if you couldn’t see it. “Do you…think you could stay?” He asked hesitantly.

His question made you wake up, the tone had gone a little serious but you knew what he meant. “I can’t,” You whispered and you felt his chest deflate. You felt horrible but you knew better than to stay in a dimension that wasn’t yours. “But…maybe I could come back?” You offered.

Miguel stiffened and you heard his heart beating faster. “Really?” You nodded and snuggled against his chest.

“I can’t stay but it’s not against the rules to visit other dimensions.”

Miguel scoffed at the mention of rules but if he got to see you again then that’s all that matters. “Will you go in the morning?” He asked, hoping you’d say no.

“I think I’ll stay a while.” You murmured sleepily and Miguel grinned to himself, letting you sleep peacefully in his arms.

While you had fallen asleep in the comforting arms of your boss’ variant, you failed to notice the shutter of your watch clicking off from a call.

Miguel O’Hara, leader of the Spider Society and the one who had been looking for you all this time, was sitting alone in his office panting heavily. Sweat accumulated on his forehead and thighs, a hue of crimson across his cheeks as he let go of his softening cock. Splatters of his cum, drenched his hand and desk and he groaned realizing what he had done.

He hadn’t meant to spy on you and your intimacy with whoever you wanted. He wasn’t expecting to hear from you after losing you on a mission, much less moaning his name. At first, he was relieved that you were alive and was about to speak until you squealed his name so sweetly. Miguel froze, wondering if you somehow got home and didn’t tell him. Whatever you did on your time was yours, but you were calling out to him. Eventually he learned it wasn’t him, but a different version. He debated whether to click out or not but some sick and twisted emotion inside him reveled in the way you begged and writhed underneath his variant.

Miguel had phased his hardening cock out of his suit and began pumping it slowly in time with his variants thrusts. He focused solely on you rather than the man that looked nothing like him. Another sick thought in his head wished his variant looked more like him, so he could imagine himself fucking you properly. Miguel made sure he was muted as he grunted and cursed under his breath, muttering praises to you in Spanish he knew you couldn’t hear. He made sure to edge himself, wanting to cum when he heard you scream his name. He bursted a fat load onto himself and the desk as you cried out your orgasm, watching you throw your head back and clutch onto his variant while you shook violently around his cock.

He grit his teeth, jealousy brewing in his heart at how hard you came. He could do better.

Once his mind had cleared up, he blushed heavily, shame overcoming his previous desires and covered his face. Despite being alone, he felt someone watching–which was hypocritical given what he had done. Before he ended the call, he traced your coordinates to find where you had been stranded all this time. Tomorrow, he’d find you and get you back.

[lyrics below from the song listed;]

Ella sabía que él sabía [She knew that he knew]

Que algún día pasaría [one day it would happen]

Que vendría a buscarla [That he’d come look for her]

Con sus flores amarillas [With her yellow flowers]

-♡-

You were just a kid when you were already thinking of him. You daydreamed and innocently fantasized about meeting him one day.

He had no name, nor did he have a face.

Yet, you dreamed about him and of yellow flowers.

To be specific, you dreamed of one day receiving yellow flowers from a man who you imagined would be close to a prince charming.

You’d listen to the song “Flores Amarillas” from the famous telenovela and sing it to the best of your ability, daydreaming about having that experience one day; of receiving yellow flowers as a romantic gesture from the love of your life.

Even in your teenage years, this illusion followed you. The unhealthy number of telenovelas you consumed growing up with your parents along with being a hopeless romantic didn't help. During those years, you waited, illusioned that that person would come along. With a pure golden heart, you imagined running one day into him; a man who would be waiting for you with a yellow flower, who would notice the shine in your pupils. You imagined the sun would be out, casting its gentle yellow as you finally crossed paths with that special man.

As time went on, you realized that purely daydreaming about it wouldn't automatically manifest it and you eventually let it go, even when you saw others experience what your child and teenager self yearn so much for.

-♡-

Outside, you hear the birds chirping. Earlier, you noted the blooming flowers in your garden. A gentle yellow, pollen, covers surfaces, inciting spring allergies for many, yet helping the flowers and bees.

You sit on your couch, now many years older amd established, when you rediscover the song while scrolling through your social media. Listening to it, you realize you still remember every word. It almost feels like running into an old friend who you haven't seen in a long, long, long time.

En ese bar tan desierto nos esperaba el encuentro [in that bar so deserted the meet up waited for us]

Ella llegó en limusina amarilla por supuesto [she arrived in a yellow limousine of course]

Él se acercó de repente la miro tan de frente [he approached suddenly looking at her straight ahead]

Toda una vida soñada y no pudo decir nada [an entire life dreamed of and he couldn't say anything]

The scent of his cologne reaches you first before you feel a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. It automatically brings a smile to your face, pulling you away from your thoughts. Still smiling, you look up and meet that warm gaze, warm like yellow and deep like coffee.

“Ella sabía que él sabía, que algún día pasaría [she knew he knew, one day it would happen],” Miguel sings softly with a warm smile.

“Que vendría a buscarla, con sus flores amarillas [That he’d come look for her with her yellow flowers],” you say, finishing that part of the song.

“I remember when that song was so popular,” Miguel comments, gently cupping your face.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. You want to know something, mi vida [my life]?” Miguel asks. “I forgot all about that song until today. It came up on my feed this morning and remembered I once used to imagine, as a kid, finding a beautiful and sweet individual to gift yellow flowers to.”

Chuckling, you caress Miguel’s forearms as he continues to cup your face. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Miguel answers before leaning forward. He presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your forehead, smiling at you before releasing your face. He reaches behind you to retrieve something, still smiling. “Unas flores amarillas para ti, mi amor [yellows flowers for you, my love],” Miguel murmurs, handing you a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers. “For the most beautiful, sweetest, kindest person in the whole world.”

The sight and scent of the cheerful flowers brightens your day, but Miguel’s words brighten it even more. You accept the flowers, your heart blooming with love and appreciation for the man that you now have the privilege of calling your husband.

You chuckle softly, admiring them while feeling the love from Miguel.

"I knew one day I'd find you," you murmur, finally looking at him again. "After daydreaming of you for so long."

"Y yo por ti [and I about you]," your husband replies, his illusion of gifting flowers to the love of his life, finally accomplished.

Thank you @ashnelyi for the ask!

Thank you so much for reading!

Alondra❤️

The mere idea of that happening is devastating and they will do anything to avoid that happening, especially if they can prevent it by avoiding doing or saying things.

So, misunderstandings happening? Yes. Their peace with each other disturbed? No.

I’ve continue to played with this idea of having certain entities disturb their peace/flow with each other, but the longer I’ve thought about it, the more I feel like it wouldn’t make sense for them.

Perhaps, I’m giving them too much credit as the writer. Perhaps, I simply don’t wish to write about them like this. Even if I do enjoy angst, I just… 😭 I rather there be angst in another way, and there will be, but not in this way.

And as I said, I believe it just doesn’t fit them because of the way they are with each other and their bond. In my opinion, it’s a very beautiful bond they have [not to hype my own writing or anything, or this element in my fic], the kind that it’s not easy to find in every person we cross paths with. They’re literally each other's homes [why do I feel like crying rn?], and they're strong ones, too. No shaky foundations or leaky ceilings here.

So there’s that :)) Also, looking at them individually as people, they’re both grown and mature adults. Miguel is in his 30s and Dulzura is in her late 20s [I know this isn’t explicitly mentioned a lot, but it’s there, hehe]; their frontal lobe is done cooking. They’re also experienced so much in life; from having so many people in their lives to having no one, and it’s one of the reasons why they value each other so much. So with all of that said, I find it hard to see them allow some unknown, new, or insignificant entities or events disturb their bond and peace with each other so easily.

Mentally, they will take note of things and analyze. You know how Miguel noted Ben has been acting strange around Dulzura?

He was mentally and silently analyzing the situation while giving Ben a gigantic side eye, and then some more, both because of his unaddressed [and unwillingness to realize it's] jealously and concern for Dulzura's boundaries being disrespected by Ben, but he didn't react differently with Dulzura. In the end, he asked her about the situation face to face after building the courage to do so, but not once did he allow their peace with each other to be disturbed by Ben and the possibility of a kiss between Ben and Dulzura despite his inner peace being tested by the ordeal.

As to sweaty Miguel and him flexing for Dulzura…🤭🤭🤭 that is 100% happening, I have this one scene in my head and RAHHHHHHH. The tension... The way we, as Dulzura, will try not to stare, but like… The sight of Miguel...

[someone will need to sedate me, or I'm gonna start tweaking]

And Miguel... well... nvm, that's for later, hehehehe!🤭🤭I won’t say anymore, but yes, Miguel will be flexing in different ways because he wants to win Dulzura’s heart! 🥺🥺