•V•22•

“if it ain’t mayday’s favorite person.”

“i’m pretty sure hobie is her favorite, peter.” you greet your friend with a kind smile.

the tall male shrugs, a smirk illustrated on his face. “yeah but she always gets excited when you’re here.” speaking of the little girl, she squeals and holds out her tiny hands towards you which melts your heart.

“hola, bebita.” the baby babbles excitedly as you gently take her in your arms. “oh my god peter, she’s getting bigger.” you give her a gentle hug and mayday happily hugs you back, babbling cutely.

“yeah, it’s getting harder watching her grow up everyday. it was only yesterday she was born.” he crossed his arms, observing with a faint smile. “also, she’s starting gaining powers. mj is a little worried about that but luckily i’m here to help.”

“she’ll be the cutest spider-baby ever.” you give mayday another gentle hug and a kiss on her rosy cheek before handing her back to her father.

“and maybe have another spider-baby by her side?…” peter raises an eyebrow with a not-so-subtle wink, placing mayday back in the baby carrier.

you nervously chuckle, rolling your eyes. “we just got married, peter. let us breath first.”

he shrugs, smirking. “just saying, it would be nice.”

you bid your goodbyes at the parkers then proceed heading for miguel’s office. as your steps descend into the hallway, your mind wonders.

kids hasn’t been really a topic you and miguel had discussed. it kinda lingers, at least in your mind but definitely not imbedded in your mind. you’re freshly married, just began living life as a married couple. besides, miguel is still wounded from what happened to gabriella and his heart has barely recovered. you didn’t mind if he choose to not have kids. work has been your main focus, that’s another thing so it never bothered you. but the thought of a baby possessed with miguel’s spider abilities seemed adorable.

finally, you reach the office and find your husband standing at his desk swiping through various screens like usual. the platform isn’t levitating like usual but perhaps he knew you’d arrive since he has surveillance footage throughout the entire society and found you talking with peter. the thought makes you pout a little. you wanted to surprised your husband, so you hope he doesn’t know you’re here.

“hola, osito.” you spoke softly, stepping onto the platform. the light clicks of your mini heels echo throughout the open space as you approach your husband, relishing his back muscles.

the low lightening of his office and how his spider suit perfectly captures the outlines of his muscles just makes you wanna drag your nails among them.

miguel’s head immediately turns at your soft voice and his whole body relaxes, expression softened. mindlessly swiping away the screen from his face, his attention fully and completely on you.

“preciosa.” he makes his way towards you, large hands gently pulling you closer by the waist before wrapping his arms around you in a loving embrace. “te extrañé, mi alma.” miguel mutters, one hand rubbing your back with such tenderness.

a soft hum escapes as you lean into his solid chest, relishing his body warmth. “you saw me 3 hours ago.” you feel his arm squeeze you a little.

“3 hours is too long.” miguel grumbles.

his grumpiness makes you giggle. the man may be a brooding mess with some anger management issues, which he’s been improving, but is a damn lost puppy around you and you adore it so much. a cold exterior but a soft, warm interior.

you remain like that, embracing each other in silence. miguel’s hands begin slowly caressing your body, gloves fingers tracing each curve like a painting. until his touch grows more needy. gently groping your curves through the pretty sundress you’re wearing. calloused hands tracing the lines of your waist, down to groping your hips almost near your ass, then back up to right underneath your breasts. his touch is setting your body on fire and make your mind putty, leaving you a bit hot and bothered. that familiar pressure in between your legs begins to form.

“someone’s touchy.” you tease, biting back a whimper when his hands grope your hips again. of course you don’t mind though, you love his touch.

when he doesn’t respond, you try to step back to look at him but instead squeal when one hand slips underneath your dress and gropes your plush ass. a tinge of possessiveness in his touch.

“miguel~ what’s up with you?” you look at your husband through fluttering lashes, heart racing when those crimson eyes stare down at you.

a glint of lust and adoration in those red orbs.

“ya te dije, preciosa.” he purrs, grinning when you let out a soft whimper as one hand gives your ass a little squeeze and the other caressing your back. adoring how you fall apart in his arms by his touch and his touch only. “te extrañé mucho…”

without warning, miguel hoists you in his arms by grabbing the back of your thighs. making you gasp and instinctively wrap your arms around his bulky shoulders. he carefully lays you down on the desk, completely spread out for him. those scarlet eyes scan down your laid out form. his pretty little wife in that cute sundress all spread out on his desk. the irritating ache growing in his groin was killing him, causing miguel to groan. if he doesn’t slip in your pretty pussy soon, he’s gonna bust in his damn suit.

“mi esposa hermosa~” he coos, caressing your cheek with a hand. “que linda eres.”

his sweet compliments makes your cheeks warm, heart flutter, and pussy throb immensely. only miguel can make you putty with his gentle words.

he leans down to capture your lips with his in a heated kiss. filled with hunger and desperation. you feel it the way miguel’s lips devours you. swallowing all those pretty sounds of yours as his hands continue groping your body in a feverishly manner. like miguel wants to remember every curve, reminding himself that you are real.

you let out a muffled moan, which miguel devours the sound with his lips, when his larger hands grope and knead your breasts through your dress. rough palms kneading and squeezing the soft fat, making you squirm underneath his large form. he knows your breasts are sensitive and he loves it because the pleasure is more precious for you. what miguel loves the most is witnessing his wife indulging in impeccable pleasure. his hands message your tits before pushing them together and giving them a firm squeeze. that is what did the trick.

“ah miguel~” you break away from his lips, arching against the desk into his addictive touch. chest heaving, panties soaked, and pussy throbbing.

a smirk tugs on his lips at how responsive you are to his touch. eyes flickering between your angelic face and cleavage. the cups of your dress hug your breasts graciously, making him salivate. gripping the strings where it holds the top of your dress together, miguel unties it with one hand to reveal more of your cleavage and a sneak peek of your cute white lacy bra. his pupils dilate immensely in hunger and lust, his arousal increasing dramatically. softly groaning at the aching sensation of his throbbing cock stained against his suit. miguel leans down and buries his face in your cleavage, kissing and licking the soft flesh of your tits. moans fall from your lips as your hands comb through those precious brown locks.

miguel leaves a trail of kisses down your clothed body while his hands remain kneading your breasts. getting down on his knees at the edge of the desk, he lifts the hem of your dress up to your tummy revealing your panties. a smug ass grin tugs on his lips at the cute little wet stain on your panties.

“siempre mojada para mí, huh preciosa?” his grin widens when a pretty whimper leaves your lips.

“what if someone comes in?” you start sitting up in worry but his hands firmly keeps you laid back.

the last thing you want is someone stumbling upon you spread out on the desk and miguel on his knees about to devour you. the thought makes you feel embarrassed and cover your eyes with your hands.

“i have the place on lockdown. no one’s allowed in, bebita, y deja tus ojos.”

a scoff escapes your lips, removing your hands from your eyes and resting them on your stomach. “of course you did, cabrón… AH!”

your body jerks when miguel suddenly rips off your panties with his damn talons. the shredded fabric lands somewhere on the ground.

“chingado, miguel! i just bought those!”

“i’ll buy you more, mi reina.”

“yeah right, don’t— OH!”

your words are cut off by your own moans as miguel starts eating you out like he found a damn oasis after suffering from the desert for an eternity. yelping when his lips suckle on your clit before flicking it with the tip of his tongue. lowly groaning at the sweet tease of your weeping core, a taste he never gets tired of. this morning miguel left a bit needy, he almost arrived late at HQ because he didn’t want to leave you and just wanted to stay with you in bed. wrapped in those cozy sheets with your body tangled with his, holding you close to him and having no care in the world. it was a struggle for him.

no matter what he did, never never once did you abandoned his fucking mind. it always wander right back to you like a magnet. it was so bad that miguel was struggling to concentrate on missions and almost fucked up during a fight with a green goblin anomaly. it was driving him fucking insane.

your sweet voice, angelic face, gorgeous eyes, pretty lips… you goddamn mesmerizing pussy.

yeah, it was that bad.

the man is on the verge of insanity because of you, despite you having done nothing but be your angelic self. miguel is just that down bad for his wife. but perhaps his spider side messed with him today more than usual. the primal instinct to trap you underneath his large muscular form and rut into you until you’re crying from overwhelming pleasure. until your womb is utterly full of his seed and get you pregnant.

yes, miguel saw you carrying mayday earlier and it was his last fucking straw of humanity.

he knows you like to surprise him at work and he loves it. the moment those crimson eyes land of your angelic form, all the stress of multiverse vanishes. miguel just happened to slide through the surveillance footage and found you talking to peter carrying mayday and smiling, all so motherly.

while his tongue continues toying with your clit, miguel slips two fingers into your weeping core. eliciting a heavenly moan from you. with the combination of his thick fingers feverishly pumping into your slick pussy and tongue flicking your sensitive pearl, it doesn’t take long for you come undone. moaning loudly as you gush all over your husband’s face, back arched off the desk.

“jesus, miguel.” you say breathlessly, recovering from your intense high. “did you miss a rapture shot or—”

your words are cut off by miguel’s lips smashed against yours in another heated kiss, which you can’t help but melt into it. plus, he’s basically just eating off your face. you can taste yourself on his lips.

“mi alma, mi reina, mi corazón, el amor de mi vida.” miguel coos right against your lips, grinning at your combined blissful surprised expression.

with one final kiss to your pretty lips, miguel leans up standing at the edge of the desk. his hands find your thighs and spreads them so he’s settled in between them, his core brushed against yours. leaving your sensitive pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. with a few taps on his watch, the groin area of his suit disintegrates revealing his throbbing erected cock. sprung out, tip angry and leaking with precum. desperate to slip into your slick cunt and have your walls clench around it. what captures your attention is the fact is only that area is revealed, miguel remains in his suit which surprises you a little.

he gonna fuck you in his spider suit?

welp, that’s a fantasy you didn’t know you needed but it came true and you ain’t complaining.

“estas lista, bebita?” miguel asks.

the nod you give him creates a grin on his face as he closes the small gap between you two and slowly presses his tip through your slick folds. a shared moan mingles in the air as your core slowly connect. your mouth hung open as you feel every inch of your husband, softly moaning once he’s balls deep.

his thrusts start off slow but quickens within seconds until miguel is pounding into you. calloused hands gripping your legs while fucking you. his relentless pace leaving you a moaning, crying mess. eyes rolled back in your skull, mouth hung open releasing a chorus of moans, back arched off the desk, hands mindlessly searching for anything to hold onto while your husband fucks the life out of you.

as endless moans fall from your lips, you glance up through your glossy eyes at your hunk of a husband. the intoxicating sight of him fucking you in his spider suit, the way his muscles flex underneath the nanotech, is so damn sexy. a major turn on. he should definitely keep the suit on more often. the thoughts make you moan, clenching around him which earns yourself a heavenly groan.

while pounding into your slick heat, miguel admires your moaning squirming form. how your body jerks forward with each thrust he makes. pretty tits juggling while confined in the cups of your dress, making your cleavage more prominent. the love bites and hickeys he left on your chest makes him grin smugly. those pretty moans that are pure music to his ears, stroking his ego and motivating him to keep at that pace knowing it hits that sweet spot of yours.

his pretty wife, moaning prettily in that cute sundress. looking like an angel, his angel.

those scarlet eyes land on your stomach and possessive thoughts invade his mind like a plague. he images it swollen with his child, a creation that would be a combination of you and him. spurting his thick seed into the depths of your womb and make sure it sticks. the thought of you carrying his baby drove miguel over the edge, causing him to groan while fucking you. lust was clouding his mind so of course he isn’t thinking properly. but how can he when you’re squeezing the fuck out of him and looking so damn beautiful while taking him so well?

with one hand, miguel presses down on your lower abdomen right above your womb. feeling the bulge that his dick was creating. the pressure makes you gasp with a mixture of a moan which triggers your sensitivity, eyes shot back in surprise. the pounding of his dick hitting all the sweet spots and his heavy palm pressing on your tummy was sending you to cloud nine. an overwhelming sense of ecstasy.

“you feel me there, bebita?” your husband coos, moving his hand in small circles on your belly. grinning at your squirming form and the cute whines you make. “that’s where our baby will grow.”

you moan loudly at the thought of miguel putting a baby in you. it causes you to clench around him, eliciting a groan from your husband.

“¿quieres un bebé, mi reina?” his hand continues those small circles on your abdomen while thrusting into you, sensing his high. “wanna make you a mama, mi reina.” miguel leans over, hovering over your squirm form with a grin on his face. “¿puedo?”

“y-yes!~ please!” you moan, back arching.

“¿quieres mi bebé?”

“yes!”

he applies a bit more pressure on your belly, eliciting a mewl from you. “otra ves, dime.”

“y-yes, i want your baby! m-miguel, por fav!~”

with a groan, miguel pulls back and increases his pace. thrusting into your slick pussy with determination of putting that baby in you. not stopping until that baby is made. his removes his hand from your stomach and wrap it around your thigh again as he continues fucking you, his bulbous tip repeatedly hitting your cervix. purposefully overstimulating you until you see stars. moans and groans bouncing off the walls of his office.

you come first but miguel follows right after. spurting his thick seed into your womb, filling you up to the fucking brim like there’s no tomorrow. he doesn’t want a single drop go to waste so you can get knocked up. add to his crazy fantasies, miguel wants you to remember this sundress as the one he got you pregnant every time you wear. to remember this moment and send a pleasure shiver down your back.

a whine falls from your lips when miguel slowly pulls out, missing the addictive feeling of being filled. you remain there laying on the desk breathless, trying to catch your breath as your husband cleans you up with some tissues he has on the desk.

“sorry for going overboard…” he sounds a bit embarrassed, a major contrast to his feverish attitude a few moments ago. “did i hurt you?”

you weakly shake your head, still feeling breathless and exhausted. “no, i’m fine. joder, miguel.” you let a weak chuckle. “there’s definitely no way i’m not getting knocked up after this.”

when you finally open your eyes to look up at your husband, you notice the embarrassment illustrated on his handsome face, making you frown a little.

“aww miguelito~” you coo, smiling when you notice the blush on his cheeks, which always happens you say that nickname. “getting shy? but i thought that’s what you wanted.” you softly giggle as you attempt to sit up on the desk before miguel sweeps in to help you, guiding by holding your waist.

“sí pero…” his eyes don’t meet yours, lingering on the floor instead. “i’m not sure if you really want that, it was just a stupid fantasy… heat of the moment.”

you gently cup his face, coaxing him to meet your eyes and he does. “i do and it’s not stupid. i know we haven’t really talked about kids because of our jobs and we recently got married and wanna enjoy our time just together. but i’m down for a baby in the long run if you are, when you’re ready.”

he allows your words to sink in and process them before sighing. “we can talk about it more later, sí?” he smiles when you nod. miguel agrees with everything you said and sees the potential of having a baby. lots of consideration but he’s optimistic.

you share a loving embrace in silence. arms wrapped around each other, you head rested against his chest, hearing his gentle heartbeat against your ear.

“peter told me he wants mayday to have another spider-baby to play with. whatcha think?”

“pinche huevón.”

his grumbling makes you laugh.

“also, keep the suit on more often. it’s sexy.”

that makes him snort. “noted.”

“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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alondra❤️

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

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

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

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

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

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

@tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies

@coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme

@lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection

@kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

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

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis

@f1-hoff @llumetrii

@nina-from-317 @kavimoo @heubstr

from the tallest tower through the window, conchata observes you and miguel leaving the premises and entering the garden. her eyes squinting slightly specifically at the knight walking beside you, skepticism flowing through her veins. her mind has been clouded with doubts since she laid eyes on the presumed knight assigned as your protection. his face is so unfamiliar yet simultaneously familiar. never once the queen has seen him before, roaming through the palace halls, in the streets, ceremonies. his time mainly took place on the battlefield. served since he was 16, considered one of the best by general stacy. perhaps he was here all along, yet it didn’t satisfy conchata. something about this particular knight ticked her off and it frustrates her.

a knight she has never seen before is the newly arrived princess’s bodyguard. it seems quite absurd to her majesty. an unfamiliar face assigned with one of the most important tasks ever. a task that will result in being expelled from the army and stripped of their title if they failed. given miguel’s brief background he provided, suppose he is sufficient for the task. but the skepticism still lingers in her bones. it was a thorn on her side, unable to pick it off. the lack of additional background bothered conchata and only fueled her desire to know more.

“andrés.” the queen calls out.

a tiny ai hologram in the form of a male magically appears by her shoulder. “¿si, mi reina?”

“acquire information about this sir miguel, the princess’s assigned knight.” she orders, eyes never looking away from the window. the tiny silhouettes of you and miguel are still in view.

“claro, mi reina.”

while the tiny ai searches through multiple files, conchata contained observing you and miguel through the glass. by the path you’re taking, you are heading to the gardens. perhaps a good start of familiarizing yourself with the palace. the gardens are very beautiful, the queen has no doubt you’ll be fascinated with the beauty of nature. what’s hers is yours, it’s your garden too. aside from the on-growing skepticism flowing through her veins, she’s pleased to see you in high spirits. lots of preparation was done for your arrival. conchata desired everything to be perfect for her future daughter-in-law. her attention returns to the knight and a skeptical frown settles on her face.

“there isn’t much information about sir miguel, your majesty.” the ai’s voice snaps her out of thought.

“¿qué?” she turns to look at him, confused.

“i’m sorry, your majesty, but i was unable to acquire additional information about sir miguel.” andrés explained, a bit nervously. “the furthest information i could find was his recruitment report at 16. no records of his birth, last name, parents, family.”

the unsatisfying information deepens her frown. “no records of his life, his past? ¡qué ridículo!” the queen scoffs in pure disbelief. “how can there be nothing?! it’s not like he just magically appeared at 16! there has to be more! he must have family!”

it is quite ridiculous that this man has no records of his past available. as if he marched into this world at the age of 16. how is it possible to have no records of his life? birth certificate, parents, family, home, any additional personal details. where was he born? here or someplace else? who are his parents? are they alive or dead? does he have additional family members? where does he live? where did he grow up from? is he native to nueva york or moved here when he was recruited? these unanswered questions and increased levels of curiosity frustrated her more. frustration began boiling in her veins.

who the hell is miguel?

“lo siento, mi reina. i tried multiple times pero i couldn’t find anything else.”

she glares at the male ai. “then try harder.”

“i-i did, your majesty, b-but i—”

“¡YA!” her yelling causes him to flinch, even if he’s hologram he can still feel her anger. “as an ai assistant, you’re supposed to know everything yet you failed to do that.” she scowls at the tiny male. “since you’ve disappointed me, i’ll seek help from someone else that will fulfill my request.”

his eyes widen in shock, shaking his head. “w-wait, your majesty, please! i can try searching deeper—”

“enough, andrés.” the queen states firmly, eyes of fury staring down at the poor little ai man, who cowardly huddle in fear. “you’ll no longer be useful for this investigation. i’ll hire a professional to seek what i want and you will not interfere. ¿entiendes?”

the ai nervously gulps and quickly nods, despite that he can’t feel anything. “si, mi reina.”

“but perhaps one final request. find me an investigator with exceptional expertise.”

andrés nods, anxiously smiling. “yes, your majesty.”

conchata gives him a curt nod before walking away. “do not disappoint me again.” her tone was laced with fierce, anger and rancorous. it caused a unpleasant shiver down andrés’ holographic spine.

she decides to leave you and your knight be in the gardens. the frustration boiling in her veins was consuming her entirely and needed to retreat to her personal chambers for the rest of the day until you return for dinner. with each step she takes, the clicking of her heals bouncing of the walls of the hallway, anger continues bubbling inside. but she is determined on gaining information about this supposedly sir miguel. for a moment, conchata didn’t understand the drastic need to know more about this man, why the lack of information triggered something inside her so badly. but she can’t let it go, she needs to know who this man truly is. hopefully with the help of an investigator, she’ll obtain that.

however, besides the lack of information, something about miguel triggers a sense of familiarity. it’s something else that the queen doesn’t understand, only fueling her curiosity and frustration. the moment she looked upon those brown eyes, a sudden wave of familiarity coursed her. it almost causes her to flinch. she has never seen that man before yet he seemed so strangely familiar. then, she remembered his hair and how it was slightly slicked back similarity to someone who had the same hairstyle yet can’t pinpoint exactly who. but she somehow recognized it and she froze for a moment.

how can someone she has never met triggered such emotions? particularly she hadn’t felt in years.

it frighten her, a feeling the queen never felt. perhaps that is responsible for her desire to acquire information about miguel as soon as possible. but conchata blames the uncertainty and curiosity.

that inspired a new task for herself.

she needs to know the man behind the steel.

“holy shit… it’s so beautiful.”

miguel can’t help but raise eyebrows amusingly at your marveled expression as he strides behind you. those brown eyes observe your every move as you stroll through the beautiful gardens. your eyes slowly moving, taking in each detail of the vines and flowers. how many petals, different colors, types of flowers. you’d reach out a hand and ever so gently touch them, your fingertips lightly skimming through the soft petal. relishing every single detail, eyes clouded with fascination and admiration. they would linger on one flower for a moment then move on to the next. you don’t reach out to every single flower you see but simply admire with your eyes. miguel is aware of the beauty and admiration for flowers but he’s never witness such fascination from someone. you take your time admiring each piece of nature in front of you. truly admiring, almost as if you’re appreciating their existence and beauty. he didn’t doubt your love for nature the moment he offered a tour of the gardens. the way your eyes lit up so quickly, shining with such excitement, almost sparkling like jewels hidden in a cave. that same sparkle remained intact as you venture around the garden. even more prominent in the sunlight.

apart from your wonder like state, not only does the sunlight makes your eyes shine but your entire self. the vibrant sunshine makes your skin glow ethereally. the glitter decorated over the periwinkle blue gown you wear dazzles beautifully. almost like luminescence despite the fact it’s not caused by heat but the resemblance is uncanny. it reminds miguel of the ocean, from his journeys outside of nueva york. the light blue fabric wrapped around your figure like waves, creating a dress made of water. the image reminds him of a water nymph; naiads or oceanids. perhaps oceanids is more fitting since your dress resembles the ocean. miguel recalls learning greek mythology at school from his younger days before joining the army. photographs of nymphs in his textbook always struck his interest, his fascination. beautiful figures with alluring historical details. he just never believed he would find one. well, maybe that’s a stretch but your appearance resembles one. this doesn’t mean he is attracted to you, no absolutely not. well, you are beautiful. he is just simply stating his observation and that’s all. you’re a princess, the future queen and ruler, and he is a just a knight, a person to serve. attachment between two different ranks is forbidden. no feelings should ever be allowed or else it’ll be end of his career. even with that, he doesn’t harbor any feelings or any sense of attachment towards you whatsoever. you are a princess and he is your protector, that’s all.

his eyes quickly avert from your dress after realizing how inappropriate it is for a knight to stare at a royal, nevertheless a woman, and focuses on checking surroundings like he’s supposed to. with a few blinks, he rids of those strange impure thoughts and mentally curses at himself for thinking of that in the first place. his eyes rake over the endless vines, flowers, and bushes. miguel doesn’t blame you for being so deeply fascinated with flowers because they are truly beautiful. he knew the garden was beautiful and consist of owning the most precious flowers in the kingdom. he has only visited twice for ceremonial occasions but never truly ventured in and admire the beauty of the garden. each flower has their own tale, which blossoms first and last, which survives the coldest winters and who doesn’t. all appear in various colors, shapes, lengths, and depths. all beautifully unique. miguel was too mesmerized by the flowers that he barely registered your voice calling him.

“¿perdón?” miguel turns to you, brows furrowed.

you raise a brow amusingly at his reaction. “i asked if you know what type of this is?” you point at a particular flower. “i don’t recognize it.”

his eyes land on the flower, analyzing for a moment but unable to recognize it as well then turned back to you with an deadpan expression. “my specialty isn’t in flowers or nature in general, princesa.”

now your brows furrowed this time. “it was a simple question, no harm done.” you try to remain kind, despite the frustration slowly starting to boil inside.

“if you believed i had an answer, perhaps you should reconsider who you’re conversing with.”

miguel was being serious. you think he would have an answer to subject he’s hardy acknowledged in? he is a goddamn knight, a warrior. not a flower enthusiast. he participates in battles, not taking time in analyzing every type of flower that exists.

the irritation in his tone frustrates you more. god, why does a man harbor such negativity? you can’t believe this man. “it was just a question and a simple no would’ve sufficed. no need to be aggravating.”

his frown deeps at your change of attitude and watches you turn to walk away from him. a grumble slips pass his lips. alright, perhaps it was unnecessary for him to get aggravated with a simple question. you were simply curious and politely asked him if he knew the type of flower you were unable to recognize. he should’ve stated he didn’t know as well like a normal person but of course his mouth opened before he could think properly. the deeper miguel thought, the more frustrated he was with himself. sure, he prefers to be on the battlefield than strolling through the gardens playing bodyguard but you didn’t deserve that and he needs to apologize.

a sigh escapes his lips as he continues following you. “princesa… forgive my discourtesy, it was inappropriate of me to speak to you like that.”

“no need, i prefer to leave things behind and move on.” you don’t even turn around to spare a glance at him, only moving forward. your eyes focused on everywhere but him, refusing to acknowledge him.

miguel frowns at your dismissive attitude, stalking a bit closer to gain your attention but fails to do so. “princesa, por favor- it was unacceptable—”

“enough, miguel.” you state firmly and he stops for a second but you continue walking.

it happens again, the strange sensation he feels when you say his name. like something inside him ticked off, triggering his body to behave strangely. it annoys and confuses him. perhaps it was the sternness in your tone when you said his name. honestly, miguel doesn’t have an exact reason but tries to not focus on it too much. he obliged to your words and doesn’t push further, continuing to follower you in silence. he decided to bite the bullet and it completely backfired. another sigh escapes his lips, this time more quietly so you don’t hear it.

for a while, miguel was too invested in his thoughts when he suddenly hears a squeal deep within the garden and realizes you’re nowhere in sight. immediately he takes off sprinting, panic invading his veins like a virus with each step he takes. swiftly taking out his sword from his belt. the blade ignites from the hilt (like a lightsaber), presenting itself in a navy blue color reflecting one of the kingdom’s colors. following an estimated guess where the sound might’ve came from, miguel was prepared to spring into action and save you from whatever was causing you harm only to find you sitting near the fountain completely safe and unharmed. you’re seated on the ledge with a hand reaching in the water… petting ducks? oh for fuck’s sake. that is what almost gave him a panic attack? goddamnit.

his sudden appearance causes you to turn in surprise, his quick footsteps startle you a little. but that washes away when you notice his blown out eyes, rapid heaving chest, heavy deep breaths, and sword in his hand. oh… he though you were in danger. you can’t help the grin spreading cross your face at the realization and try covering it with a hand.

“oh… lo siento, miguel.” you giggle against your palm, grinning ear to ear. “everything’s fine.”

miguel stands utterly embarrassed to the fucking core. he assumed you were in danger yet here you are petting the damn ducks in the fountain. oh he feels like an absolute idiot. by your giggling, he can’t imagine how stupid he looks all panicky and holding out his sword. but the pretty sound does trigger that weird sensation again, making him feel more embarrassed. well, can you blame him for assuming you were in danger since you were squealing? he blinked once and suddenly you’re not in his view and hears a distant squeal. nevertheless you are the princess. he could’ve failed his one and only task. so, miguel blames you for giving him a mini heart attack.

with a heavy sigh, miguel deactivates the blade and reattaches the sword to his belt. “don’t ever run off like that again.” he slowly approaches you, trying to calm down his rapid beating heart.

“lo siento.” you flash him an apologetic smile that makes his chest flutter. “i heard them nearby and got excited. sorry for scaring you, i don’t blame you. it’s in your nature.” now you feel a little embarrassed for scaring the poor man and turn away to look back at the cute little ducks, gently petting them.

he does blame you for scaring him but lets it go since you’re safe. “just please don’t run off again.”

you hum softly with a nod, still looking at ducks.

the knight silently observes the interaction between you and the ducklings. the gentle pets you give them on their tiny heads, causing them to lean into your touch. the small smiling gracing your lips as the ducks quack adorably at you. it’s obvious you’re an animal lover. your gentleness towards the ducklings perfectly represents that. a lover of nature and animals. seems typical for a princess yet it still fascinates miguel even though he doesn’t understand why it does. he can’t blame you though, the ducks are quite adorable little creatures. just bathing innocently in the fountain water living peacefully. they live better lives than most humans.

“i have a fountain back home.” your voice breaks the silence. “not as big as this one but… a little more cleaner than this.” you drag a finger among the ledge of the fountain and collect some dust. the tip of your finger is covered in a light shade of gray. “i suppose they don’t care much for the garden as much.”

“there was a gardener but was recently let go by the queen.” he informs, arm folded across his chest.

now you finally turn to him, looking up through your lashes. “for what reason?”

he shrugged his shoulders. “no sé, all i knew was the gardener was suddenly let go.”

your brows furrowed in confusion before looking away. “strange…” with a hand, your fingers gently glide through the water while thinking. “well… someone needs to take care of this place or else it’ll rot over time.” a hint of sadness in your tone, which doesn’t go unnoticed by miguel. “when i’m queen, i won’t mind taking care of it myself.”

his eyes slightly widen at your words. “you are willing to care for one of the largest gardens in the world by yourself?” truthfully, he’s a bit amused.

you look back at him. “yes, i am. i’ve always loved gardens since i was a child. my gardener taught me everything she knew and i would help her. i spent most of childhood in the garden. by the looks of it, no one seems to care for this beautiful garden and i’m willing to take that responsibility. just because it’s garden doesn’t mean it has any less value.”

miguel simply stares at you, speechless and a bit stunned. you are so… considerate and thoughtful. the fact you are willing to care for the garden, that ranges so far and wide, all by yourself is unbelievable yet inspiring. reckless to take care of yet it doesn’t bother you not one bit. there is so much kindness in your heart, it continues to surprise him every time.

“now…” your eyes bore into his own. “since i’ve seen the garden, i’d like to meet the people.”

soon, you find yourself arriving in the city seated in the carriage. miguel exits first and extends a hand to help you off the vessel which you gratefully accept. those chestnut eyes remain you as you hop off the carriage and land steadily on the ground, making sure you don’t trip. hands intertwined the entire time, his metal covered one wrapped around your smaller one. he doesn’t let go until you do and softly thank him with that kind smile then continue walking ahead. that damn smile, a simple kind gesture yet effects him greatly. miguel lets out a grumble before following you. the white lace cloak you’re wearing glows beautifully in the sunlight, as if you’re a walking aura. it matches perfectly with your periwinkle blue gown underneath. the cloak was meant for privacy and not attract much attention while roaming through the streets. you may be the newly arrived princess but you don’t want to disturb people’s lives and work. they’re busy providing for their families and you don’t want to ruin their line of work for royalty. luckily, not much people have recognized you since they’re busy working or conversing with others. a group of children ran past you, laughing and squealing. one boy was too busy looking back at his friend while running and almost collides with you. miguel almost puts out an arm to shield you but you stop him when the boy realizes and meekly apologizes then runs off.

“pinche chamaco.” miguel scowls, lightly glaring at the little boy running away with his friends. that little shithead almost ran into the princess, for god’s sake.

“it’s fine, miguel.” you place a hand on his metal forearm, sensing his grumpiness. “he’s just a boy.”

“that boy should pay attention where he’s going, regardless if he’s a kid or not.”

you can’t prevent the smile spreading across your lips at his grumpiness. all because of a little boy’s mistake. oh how the littlest things bother the most.

“he apologized and that’s what matters. no need to be a grumpy bug about it.”

miguel side-eyed you with a frown. “i’m not being a grumpy bug.”

you scoff, laughing. “yes, you are. getting grumpy over the littlest things, no harm done.”

that makes him roll his eyes. “qué ridícula.”

there he goes again, being bothered by the smallest things. the head shake and eye roll of disbelief and annoyance makes you giggle. he truly is a grumpy bug. from your childhood, your mother used to read a book about a bug who was grumpy all the time. the illustration was very cute. a tiny bug with the biggest frown on his face and thick eyebrows. miguel definitely resembles him in that aspect.

your giggling causes him to raise an eyebrow. “¿por qué te ríes, princesa?

“porque eres como el grumpy bug.” now you’re laughing. “a story i read when i was a child. it had big eyebrows and was grumpy all the time, Igual que tú.”

miguel stares down at you with a deadpan expression mixed with disbelief. he cannot believe what he’s hearing. you compare him to a fictional character due to physical and characteristic similarities? which he doesn’t believe he does, by the way. the thick eyebrows part, yes. the grumpiness part, no. he is not that grumpy. sure, some people get on his nerves to the point of wanting to straggle them but never consisted to be grumpy... right?

“do you want to continue the visit or not?” he began feeling fed up that a change in topic was needed. but the frustration lingers in his tone, causing his behavior to slip up which he regrets immediately when miguel noticed your stern look.

“perhaps you forget who you’re speaking with, sir miguel.” yikes, back to formality. “we’ll continue this visit until i’m satisfied. ¿entiendes?”

he bites the inside of his cheek. the sternness in your tone tells him you’re not fooling. “sí, princesa.”

you give him a curt nod then wander off.

miguel knew better than to push your limits so he keeps his mouth stealer for the remainder of the visit, only spoke when you asked him about anything. he would point out various shops, restaurants, and other businesses, providing brief descriptions of each place which fueled your interest. the city is utterly beautiful. skyscrapers of glass covered with moss reaching almost towards the clouds. flying vehicles and ships in the sky. people passing by on the streets. just the simplicity of life.

as usual, miguel silently observes you as you wander around. that same wonder like gleam in your eyes like in garden earlier, relishing every detail. each building, the architecture, people, everything. your fascination still surprises him. a simple scenery yet captures your attention nevertheless. miguel assumed your kingdom was quite similar since most of society is like this, hence why he’s a bit confused to see you deeply fascinated with his but it’s a new place for you so that’s probably why. he doesn’t comment about that and focuses on guiding you through the streets.

while walking, you feel something gently pulling the hem of your cloak. you quickly turn around to find a different little boy holding out a flower, a peony specifically, with a bashful smile.

“para ti, princesa.”

your heart completely melts. such a sweet little boy. “gracias.” you slightly crouch to be eye level and gently take the flower from him with a smile.

the boy quickly bows before running off to presumably his parents who seem to be leaving a restaurant. perhaps they recognized you but didn’t want to disturb you and thought a flower would a small kind gesture of welcoming you.

miguel silently observes the heartwarming scene after realizing you stopped for a moment. well, at least this kid is nicer and respectful.

with a smile, you bring the flower up to your nose and a quick sniff at the pretty petals. “que chulo.”

“at least that kid was nice.”

you roll your eyes while smiling as you walk past him. can’t believe he still has a grudge against that kid from earlier. but you say nothing and continue on.

while venturing through the streets, a loud explosion erupts from a nearby building. a sudden puff of smoke explodes into the air, breaking the glass window which sends the shattered pieces flying, then followed by flames suddenly bursting. the ground shook underneath, causing you to fall completely with a sharp gasp. smoke fills your lungs and eyes immediately, coughing it out as you slowly look up to see the sudden tragedy but there is too much smoke. screams of terror ring in your ears. suddenly, you feel a pair of strong hands swiftly picking you by the waist and holding you up securely.

“are you okay?! are you hurt?! ¡¿princesa?!” in front of you stands a very frighten miguel. his eyes widen with pure fear and panic as they trace over your figure searching for any injuries. hands gripping onto you tightly as if he’s terrified to let you go.

you’re still deeply affected by the aftershock from the explosion to answer him. body limp and sore from the harsh fall you took. only staring up at him through fluttering lashes due to the smoke. his handsome face is covered in ash, perhaps yours is too. you return to your senses when you feel two large hands gently cupping your face. your eyes find his again and you make eye contact. those pretty chestnut orbs filled with such panic bore into yours. oddly enough, his eyes evoke a sense of comfort and safety, causing the panic invading your veins to fade slowly. suddenly, everything else becomes a blur and time slows down. as if this intimate moment between you two is the only thing that matters.

you’re too mesmerized by his eyes to hear the grumble he lets out. there is a small cut on your right cheek, from the shattered glass window. a tiny amount of blood leaks from it. miguel cursed internally at the mild injury. his important task of protecting you has failed and he hates himself for it. subconsciously, he gingerly traces his thumb over the tiny cut, eliciting a soft gasp from you. the intimate gesture makes your chest flutter and lashes flutter more. it does sting a little, sadly. the little frown you made when he touched your cut made his heart clench. he needs to get you out of here now.

“we need to leave, now!”

just as miguel tries to help you escape, something suddenly zips past your head just by a few centimeters. the sudden motion causes you to fall from his hold with a scream. swiftly looking up, you find what appears to be a… cybernetic tentacle slammed into a nearby building, creating a barrier between you and miguel. turning around to where it comes from, a man with cybernetic tentacles attached to his back stands there. claws attached at the bottom of each arm digging into the ground, holding up the man effortlessly. your eyes widen in shock at the monstrosity in front of you. the man’s eyes wonder around the chaos he created with such pride, civilians screaming and running in terror, before eventually landing on you. the evil smirk forming on his lips makes your heart drop in horror.

the tentacle man swiftly makes his way over to you. the mechanical arms slam into the ground, breaking the floor with step he takes. your heart pounding in your chest and ears as you try to scurry away. as one tentacle raises to strike at you and you let out the most terrifying scream ever, the arm is suddenly cut off by miguel’s blade and it lands on the ground near your feet. the knight stands in front of you, chest heaving and wielding his sword in his hands. fury boils in his blood as he glares down at the tentacle bastard who groans at the lost of an arm.

“big mistake, boy.” the bastard scowls.

“big mistake for poor craftsmanship.” miguel snarls, the grip on his blade tightens for preparation.

that triggers the bastard’s ego and goes in for a strike at miguel with two arms. the knight swiftly avoids them and manages to slice them off, eliciting more frustrated groans from his opponent. miguel manages to block and avoid his opponent’s swings, body wrapped in steel swiftly moving past those cybernetic arms. however, there is more to those claws. a spear protrudes from its center and aims for miguel’s face. the knight was too focused on fighting to notice it until he felt a sharp cut on his check, slicing through the flesh, making him groan in pain and stumble a little. he brings a hand up to his sliced check and hisses at the pain. oh that pissed him off more. thankfully, additional knights arrived to assist him in battle to finally defeat this tentacle asshole. two other knights come to your rescue and carefully lift you from the ground, not realizing that you remained glued there during the entire fight. you can’t blame yourself, to actually witness your personal knight fighting, seeing him in his true glory, was quite mesmerizing. the way his body moved and avoided every attack so swiftly and his impressive swordsmanship. it was all so captivating.

once the maniac is captured and secured in an electromagnetic pod to be taken for interrogation, miguel immediately searches for you and rushes over with the biggest worried expression ever.

“¡princesa!” his hands quickly come up and gently hold onto your upper arms, chest heaving frantically. those frightful eyes scan your figure for any injuries besides the small cut on your cheek. “are you hurt? in pain or anything? i swear, that pinche—”

“i’m fine, miguel.” you softly reassure him, gently placing your hands on top of his to calm him down. “he didn’t hurt me, thanks to you.”

other than the small cut on your delicate cheek, he believes you and exhales a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. the protectiveness still lingers in his bones profoundly. miguel will make sure you’re escorted back to the palace safely, taking all necessary precautions no matter what.

you, on the other hand, notice the cut on his left cheek and it makes you frown. coincidentally enough you both suffer the same injury, just on different cheeks but miguel’s looks more painful due to the heavy red ooze leaking from it.

“but he hurt you…” subconsciously, you raise a hand towards his cut cheek but his own hand gently catches it and slowly brings it down.

“i’ll be fine.”

you frown. “miguel, you’re bleeding. you need stitches immediately or else—”

“it’ll heal, right now we need escort you out of here.” he cuts you off by gently tugging you by the arm along to escort you out of the chaotic scene.

“miguel! you need help!” you squirm under his hold.

he ignores your pleads and continues heading for the carriage. his main priority is escorting you safely. the pain lingering on his cheek still stings but miguel doesn’t allow that to phase him much. not even you squirming in his hold either. your pleads continue to fall deaf upon his ears as he ushers you inside the carriage and barks the driver to take off immediately. the trip back home was pure silence.

the queen frantically runs down the hall as you and miguel arrive. “oh mija!” she brings you into a tight embrace, which you accept. “i was so worried about you when i heard what happened! are you alright?!”

“i’m fine, your majesty, truly.” you reassure her with a smile, taking note of her worried eyes.

conchata looks past you at miguel with a frown. “¡¿estas menso?!” the fury in her voice echos throughout the room. she lets you go and storms towards the knight. “how could you let this happen?! your task is to protect her, not put her danger!”

“b-but your majesty!” you quickly rush to cut in between her and miguel. “it wasn’t his fault—”

she ignores you and continues to press miguel. “you were chosen to be the princess’s protector, the most important task only fitted for a worthy knight yet you failed the moment you put her in danger.”

“your majesty, it wasn’t never my intention to put the princess in danger. i would never, ever allow that to happen.” miguel stated firmly, truly meaning his words. he would never put you in harms way. today’s attack was unexpected. “it was an unpredictable attack, there were weren’t any signs of danger until the sudden explosion. i was unable to escort the princess to safety because the suspect moved in quickly, separating us in the moment.”

“then you should’ve tried HARDER! ¡MÍRALA!” she gestures at the small cut on your cheek. miguel didn’t need to see it, the guilt still lingered.

the scream she released makes you both wince. such intense fury in her tone, causes you to shiver.

miguel stares at the woman with slightly wide eyes at her sudden burst of anger. her concern and frustration is understandable, you were placed in danger, but this level of anger is quite alarming. never has he witness such fury from her majesty.

is she truly this angry at him?

“pero, your majesty!” you cut in once again, pleading this time. “he saved my life!”

those ferocious eyes briefly soften when they land on you but the fury still burns within her.

“por favor, your majesty… please don’t blame him, none of it was his fault. like sir miguel said, it was an unpredictable attack. it was all so sudden, unexpected.” you elaborate. “he saved my life, he fought that thing with all his might, and escorted me safely. i wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

both miguel and conchata were speechless, mainly miguel because you defended him. you, the princess, actually defended him in front of the queen. stood your ground against her, the most powerful woman in the land. even if you were being respectful, you still stood up to the woman. the man is utterly speechless and… mesmerized. never thought a royal, let alone a princess, would defend a knight.

you still manage to surprise him.

conchata’s blood pressure manages to calm down after absorbing your words. it’s the truth that she reluctantly accepts; you wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for miguel. when she got word of the attack, andrés informed conchata that miguel managed to save you before the attacker could get to you and engaged in a battle. she was too worried and angry to acknowledge miguel’s heroic deeds back then, she only focused on you. but with your explanation, perhaps she was being too harsh on the knight who was only serving his purpose. the frustration still lingers but, for once, conchata pushes it aside and properly apologize.

“perdóname, sir miguel…” reluctantly, she looks back at him. that fierce glint in her eyes is no longer there like before. “for my discourtesy, it was wrong of me for speaking to you in such a awful manner. by the princess’s words, you did perform your task of protecting her and i’m very grateful for your service not only for saving her but the kingdom.”

truthfully, miguel is skeptical of her sudden change of heart after an episode of pure rage poured into his face just moments ago. but because of you, the queen managed to calm down and apologized so he isn’t that surprised but still wary.

“i appreciate it, your majesty. i was just serving my purpose of protecting the people of this kingdom.”

“and saved many lives, i sincerely thank you.”

still skeptical but he silently nods.

conchata’s eyes narrow at him briefly before looking back at you, eyes now softened. “now, let’s get you cleaned up after a horrible day. i’ll notify lyla to prepare a bath and have a medical droid come to tend for that wound.” just as she goes to lead you away to your room, you quickly stop.

“wait, sir miguel is injured as well, he was bleeding. the medical droid needs to tend to him first.”

the queen’s eyes briefly spare the knight a glance and notice the scar on his left cheek. she lets out a small sigh. “we’ll send him to the medical room downstairs. now, let’s get you freshen up, mija.”

“but—” you look back at miguel pleadingly, who silently stands there watching you leave, but the queen continues to lead you away from him.

“he’ll be okay, mija. once he’s taken care of, he’ll return by your side, i promise.” she reassures kindly.

your eyes meet miguel’s once again and he gives you a reassuring nod. much to your dismay, you walk back to your room with the queen. taking a bath wasn’t your main concern, your poor injured knight consumed your thoughts. you know you won’t feel better until he’s taken care of. all you can hope is that he does return after his visit with the medical droid.

miguel keeps his eyes remain on you until you’re no longer in his sight. part of him is still speechless about you defending him, even more with you urging for him to be checked first for his injured cheek. so thoughtful… and selfless. how did he deserve such kindness? it continues to shock him. with a heavy breath, he turns and heads to the infirmary. he hopes for a quick visit so he return to you soon.

a bath is prepared when you arrived in your quarters like instructed. the queen leaves you be and lyla assists you for the remainder of the day. she bids you farewell and heavy insists to rest well after a traumatic experience. upon returning to her personal chambers, andrés appears near her shoulder.

“mi reina, i have acquired a private investigator. he is here waiting inside.”

“oh, excellent. you didn’t disappoint me this time.” conchata flashes him a curt look, making the ai nervous. entering through the self-opening doors, she finds a hooded figure in the middle of the room.

upon hearing her arrival, it turns around and it’s revealed to be a man. tall, bald, and owns a goatee.

“your majesty.” the male bows. “an honor to meet you and take interest in my work.”

“what i seek is a bit challenging for a normal investigator and i trusted my assistant to find one with impeccable expertise.”

“challenges are my expertise.” he smirks.

her expression mirrors his. “then i entrust you with this task and provide what i seek.”

“you won’t be disappointed, your majesty.”

“what is your name, dear investigator?” she steps forward and offers a hand to shake.

“aaron davis, ma’am.” he shakes her hand. “but others refer to me as the prowler.”

꣖　𝓣ags. ♡ྀིྀི　꣓⠀⠀@eatalyy @aphinthestars @oharaslove @marshmallowsforever @sylusslutkitten @seandiazsupreme @famouscattale @counterblows @lazyjellyfish300 @haveclayeveryday @redpearls0 @deputy-videogamer @thevenuscross @rnvsxo @ghostiesky @lilpeelilpoo⠀⠀ ꣖　must be 18+ to be tagged　꣓

28 YEARS AGO.

“push, your majesty!”

groans and wails of pain echo throughout the four walls of the private hospital room. puddles of blood stained on the white bedsheets. a small crowd of one handmaiden and a medical droid. fists clenching and eyes screwed shut at the painful wails of their queen.

“n-no puedo…” conchata pants weakly, head resting back on the pillow while drenched in sweat.

“sí puedes, mi reina. one more push and it will be complete.” the droid encourages.

“one more time.” may parker, the queen’s handmaiden, offers an encouraging smile while holding her hand as support.

with a mixed groan and heavy breath, conchata does one final yet painful push until the pain and heaviness finally leaves her body. exhaustion consumes her entirely as she lays back against the pillow in relief, shutting her eyes while panting.

“congratulations, your majesty. you gained a son.”

the cries of a newborn fall deaf upon the queen’s ears as the medical droid quickly wraps the baby in a light blue blanket. once the boy is securely wrapped, the droid maneuvers towards the queen’s side to her hand the baby but she shakes her head.

“your majesty?”

“no.” conchata shakes her head again, refusing to look or acknowledge the crying newborn.

“but, mi reina, he needs—”

“get rid of it.”

may and the droid look at her with shock. the cries of the newborn gradually increases, desperately searching for his mother. seeking for the warmth and comfort only a mother can provide yet only coldness and the soft fabric of the blanket surrounds him.

“but your majesty, please—”

“I SAID GET RID OF IT!”

may flinched at that.

she didn’t refer the baby as he — instead, it.

as if he wasn’t a human being, had no significance.

her burst of anger causes everyone to wince and the baby’s cries intensify. their remorseful eyes land on the crying newborn, a figure of innocence. brought into this world only to be refused by his mother before he could take his first breath. guilt stabs may in the heart immensely as she stares solemnly at the baby boy. how can a mother abandon her child? how can she refuse her baby without sparing a glance? may can’t fathom the awful idea of ridding a baby. however, she knows better than to argue with her queen. reluctantly, she silently offers to take the baby while the medical droid cleans up the queen.

conchata never spares a glance at the baby as the handmaiden departs. not once ever. eyes closed and head turned to side against the pillow, absolute refusal. instead of guilt, frustration boils in her blood at the unfortunate situation she placed herself in.

oh she should’ve known better.

she knew it was a mistake to fall for her personal knight which led to bare his bastard.

a stupid love affair.

it wasn’t supposed to happen yet conchata couldn’t stop her heart beating so quickly the minute she looked at those crystal blue eyes.

tyler stone.

tall, platinum blonde, fairly muscular.

he was assigned as conchata’s personal knight, for protection purposes. a normal task for a knight, nothing more. however, that was proven wrong with the countless nights of him sneaking into her personal chambers when the king wasn’t there or having quick private moments in between affairs. they both knew it was wrong, forbidden yet didn’t care of the consequences at the time. tyler originally opposed of the idea, the thought of being executed for sleeping with the queen did not seemed like a beautiful fate. however, conchata insistence overpowered his concerns. besides, she was the true heir of the throne and it’s her family bloodline. she is the queen of neuva york. everything is by her way.

conchata, on the other hand, never had the slightest care of the affair. of course she was married to george o'hara, the king, but never truly loved him. the marriage was for royal purposes, not true love. a loveless marriage, most accurately. george rarely looked at her way and neither did she so conchata didn’t care about cheating on the lame bastard. all her life, she never experienced or had knowledge about love. her parents had an arranged marriage, like a usual royal marriage. rarely spent time together nor acknowledge each other, so she never seem a proper example of love. true love, precisely. not until she met tyler. never would’ve thought a knight, her own personal knight, would be her first glimpse at love. it was ridiculous, actually. considering the fact she was the queen and him a knight, it was preposterous. yet, her eyes never sparkled so much whenever she saw him. so shameful yet felt so right.

the affair lasted for 4 months, shockingly yet they were very skilled in keeping it a secret. tricky yet stealthy. not one soul in the palace knew and it was kept that way. although, there were some skepticism from a few handmaidens and staff members catching glimpses of the queen and her knight secretly scattered away into secluded areas yet never spoke a word. it was known to never dare speak ill of the queen so all lips were completely sealed.

unfortunately, the affair ended when a war escalated into great depth that required tyler to be on the battlefield. conchata was in major distraught about his departure, almost forced him to stay by speaking with the general but decided against it. despite her pleads, the knight had to serve his queen and protect the kingdom. frustration boiled in her blood that she never kissed him goodbye, not knowing it was the last time she would ever see him. tyler’s apology made her wince frustratingly, turned away with crossed arms and a frown on her face. she ignored it, she ignored him. that shattered his heart but tyler barely had time to comfort her. without saying any more words to each other, he left. conchata never speared him one final glance, something she would regret later on. she’d rather masked her true feelings, refuse her heart, and pretend it was nothing. despite being angry at him, she believed he’d return.

expect he never did.

tyler died in combat. one of largest, gruesome battles that barely left any survivors. unfortunately, death met his end. stories told he fought with courage and integrity, never once dropped his blade. each swing of his blade was for not only the kingdom but also his queen. conchata never once left his mind, consumed his every thought. every soul he took was for her. even in his final moments, flashes of conchata appeared through his mind. devastated to know he’d never see her again yet tyler figured his time would come, especially on the battlefield. however, he was glad to die by protecting his queen. even by his own demise, she would get to live.

he died with honor.

however, conchata was even more furious. it was predicted she didn’t take the news well and throw herself into a spiral of rage. not only because she lost the love of her life but what he had left her.

a child growing in her womb.

a bastard.

during the weeks tyler was gone, conchata experienced terrible changes in her body. nausea, fatigue, swollen breasts, sensitive senses. it was only a matter of time to request a medical droid and do an examination. a positive pregnancy. her worst fear came true. screams of anger rumbled through the walls of the medical room. it was frightening to the point where the droids frantically exited the room, not wanting to exert their queen’s anger any further. conchata drowned herself in tears of anger and distress. not only the love of her life left her but left her alone with his bastard. how could he do this to her? leave her alone to bare his child? it was preposterous, cruel, and unfair. that was when her heart changed forever. the love she had for tyler vanished and replaced with resentment.

conchata resented tyler for it.

so she resented the child as well.

endured the whole pregnancy despite the anger and frustration boiling in her bones as her belly expanded with time. even with her stubbornness, the queen followed the medical droid’s advice and accepted help from her personal handmaiden may parker, who only knew of the hidden pregnancy. thankfully, conchata owned large extravagant gowns to conceal her expanding belly but still remained cautious. george was already an oblivious bastard and they had separate rooms by her request, she didn’t have to worry about his potential suspicions. as dreadful as it was, conchata navigated through the pregnancy. the baby leaving her body once and for all was her only source of motivation.

god, she despised tyler for forcing her to endure such immense pain just to bare his bastard child. she also despised the child for making her a illegitimately mother. she had to rid of the evidence of her affair.

anything tied to tyler had to be destroyed.

while the queen recovers from the disastrous birth, may quietly yet quickly ventured through the hallways while carrying the crying newborn in her arms. each cry tears a piece of her heart. sneaking out of the palace, with the help fellow handmaidens to cover for her, may walks through the streets in the night sky. the shimmering moonlight illuminating the the kingdom grounds and the gentle cool night breeze hitting her face as she discreetly ventured through the night. a navy blue cloak concealing her royal handmaiden attire, a hoodie to protect her identity from the public. inside the cloak is the baby, hiding him from world, holding him close to her chest offering as much warmth she can. luckily, his cries died down and only let out occasional soft coos.

may knew what she is doing. she knew this wasn’t the smartest idea, taking a newborn baby with her, nevertheless a royal baby, but this was the safest idea. she did obey the queen’s orders to rid of the baby, he will no longer be her problem. but she couldn’t fathom the idea of completely abandoning the child and dumping it somewhere. it would be something may would regret for the rest of her life. her heart would never take such guilt and shame, it would kill her. besides, this isn’t the first time she has taken a child into her care. she just didn’t expect to happen again yet she’d do it in a heartbeat.

she wanted to keep and protect this child.

eventually, may arrives at her small cottage in a secluded area of the town.

“we’re home now.” she whispers towards her cloaked covered chest, referring to the baby before entering her home through the self-opening door.

“may?” ben, her husband, rises from his chair at the dining table and quickly approaches her with a surprise look. “why are you home early, honey?” he raises a hand to gently cup her cheek. “did something happen? are you alright—”

“close the door.” she brushes past him and heads straight to their shared bedroom, barely letting him reaction before obeying her orders and follows her.

ben enters the room to find his wife setting down something on the bed. “may, what are you—” the man stops in his tracks when he sees a baby lying on the sheet bedsheets, softly cooing. “a… baby? may, why do you have a baby? who’s baby is that?”

“shhh…” the woman raises a finger to her lips. “just please, ben… i’ll explain.”

his brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”

a heavy sigh escapes her lips as she takes a seat beside the baby on the bed, looking down at him with remorseful eyes. “i need you to promise me that you’ll never speak a word of this.” she looks up at her husband, who appears to be confused.

“i promise.” ben said sincerely, a bit confused and anxious to hear what his wife had to reveal.

she told him everything, every detail. ben sat there in complete silence, speechless and shocked by this revelation. he soon joined his wife on the bed, sitting on the opposite side where the newborn lays in between them. his eyes land on the baby, who continues cooing and big eyes wandering around in curiosity, and his heart shatters.

“this poor baby….” much remorseful in his tone. “i… i can’t believe the queen would do such a horrible thing…” a heavy, sad sigh falls from his lips as he slowly ran a hand down his face.

“i couldn’t leave him, ben…” tears prickle in her eyes. “i couldn’t leave him out alone in the world, to die or to be taken by someone with god know’s what horrible intentions. i couldn’t do that…”

ben understood her completely, he would’ve done the same. no child should be abandoned, left alone in the world. the horrible thought brought an unpleasant shiver down his spine. raising a hand, he slowly reaches over to grab hers and offers a soft loving squeeze, making her look up at him.

“i understand, may.” his eyes were filled with sincerity. “i wouldn’t bare to leave a child alone in this chaotic world. we will raise this child together, give him a home that he was stripped of. give him a place where he can be safe and grow.” he gives her hand other loving squeeze. “we’ll do this together.”

those sincere, empathic words unleashed those tears she has been holding back. tears of relief, trailing down her cheeks as she quickly pulls her husband into a loving embrace, mindful of the baby in between them. a hug of silent appreciation.

“may may?”

the couple quickly pull away from each other and turn to see their little nephew standing by the door, rubbing his sleepy eyes with a hand and holding a stuffed dog in the other, clad in his pajamas.

“hey, bud. we woke you up, didn’t we?” ben raises from the bed and walks over to pick up the little boy.

“it’s okay. i heard may may crying. are you okay, may may?” the little boy looks at her with a pout.

the sight melts her heart. “yeah i’m okay, peter.” may softly chuckles, quickly wiping her tears. “there were happy tears because we have exciting news.”

the four year old’s eyes perk up excitingly. may carefully picks up the baby from the bed and walks towards them with a soft smile.

“peter, say hi to your adoptive brother.”

the little boy’s eyes widen in excitement. “brother?! yay! i get a brother!”

ben softly shushes him. “let’s not get too loud, okay bud? his ears are very little and sensitive.”

“oops, sorry.” peter apologized bashfully.

ben and may softly chuckle.

“what’s his name?” the boy asks.

the couple share a glance. they just welcomed a new member to the family and haven’t settled on a name.

“oh, um…”

“what about… miguel?” may suggests.

there used to be a notorious knight named miguel, a fearless warrior of nueva york who won many battles. naming a child in his honor seemed nice.

“miguel?… i like it.” ben softly smiles.

“me too! my little brother miguel!”

the three of them look down at the baby with smiles. a promise was made to keep the baby a secret. conchata must never know and she’ll never will. the parkers vow to raise and protect this child as their own. give him the life he deserves.

PRESENT DAY.

the warmth of the sun slipping through the sheer curtains awakes you from deep slumber. the silk bedsheets snuggle against your skin as you shift from your side to lay on your back, facing the dazzling chandelier above you. a yawn escapes your lips as you rub your eyes, slowly waking up. damn, that was a good night sleep. if only an hour or two would’ve been perfect but today was a busy day. a journey awaits you. the thought of it alone makes you sigh, staring up at the extravagant chandelier.

“buenas dias, princesa!” lyla, your droid handmaiden, enters your bedroom with the usual bright smile she always wears. “it’s the big day!”

“ugh….” you cover your face with a pillow. “don’t remind me, i’m already dreading it.” a frown settles on your face when the pillow is suddenly snatched from you and are meet with that damn smile.

“i know and i’m already sorry for the millionth time. but come on, your highness! you know your parents will not be pleased with tardiness.”

you let another groan, knowing the droid is right. “chingado…” reluctantly rising from the bed, you rub the temples of your forehead. “i hate this.”

lyla giggles which earns her a glare from you. “i know. let’s just get ready first, okay? i’ll prepare the bath and search for clothes.”

you softly sigh, nodding. “gracias, lyla.”

“your highness.” she bows with a kind smile then heads off to the bathroom to prepare your bath.

rubbing your eyes once more to truly wake yourself, you turn to look at the window. a beautiful view of the lake. the crystal blue water shimmering from the warm sunlight. the vibrant green of nature, the phenomenal mountains in the distance. the bright sky blue decorated with fluffy clouds. the angelic melody of birds chirping. such a peaceful view, one of the few things you adore living here.

a view you’ll also miss dearly.

today is the day you’re leaving home and traveling to the kingdom of nueva york to meet prince gabriel, the next heir to the throne. an arranged marriage has been set for you both to unify both royal families. you’ve only heard small information about the prince from your parents and others. the next heir, in his mid twenties, co-regiment with his mother queen conchata until he marries and is crowned king, skilled in swordsmanship. all the basic information that kinda made you yawn. although, he is quite handsome. looking up images of him on your holopad while laying in bed when you should’ve been asleep, the rumors were very true. a cute fluff of brown hair, pretty amber eyes, and oddly a cute nose. perhaps his looks are sufficient yet the lack of knowing his personality keeps you curious about him. he may look handsome but his personality is more important. gossip is that he is a kind, caring man. however, you need to see it for yourself.

despite these positive things about the prince, your future husband, you still aren’t thrilled about it. ever since you were young, you’ve always craved true love. the dream of falling in love with the right man, the who meant for you, who loves you for who you are, is what you truly seek. the concept of a soulmate has always stuck with you. you crave to find your soulmate. for example, your parents are soulmates and are founded by true love, unlike most royal marriages. despite being royal, they truly love each other for who they are. you crave for the love they have. unfortunately, that isn’t possible.

you have nothing against prince gabriel, at least for now. it’s not right to form an opinion of someone before meeting them. the positive things about him give you a slight chance of hope. however, you still desire to meet the love of your life without being forced or written by rules. you crave wonder and surprise. the thought of meeting the man of your dreams in the most unexpected way excites you. but perhaps it won’t be a possibility anymore.

after taking your usual morning bath, lyla displays three gowns for you to choose. you settle on a periwinkle blue one since it’s a color you adore. plus, you have to make a first impression for today’s event. you may not be thrilled for the occasion but you do love dressing up. hence why the public refers you as the ‘fashionista princess.’ honestly, you love the title. it’s quite cute, you do indeed own the most stylish looks in the city. you simply love fashion. once you’re fully dressed and makeup on, you head down to the main room to meet with your parents, lyla accompanied by your side. the sound of your heels clicking causes them both to turn around and greet you with kind smiles as you trail down the stairs.

“buenas dias, mija.” your father greets you first, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and embraces you.

“did you sleep well, mi luna?” your mother asks as you greet her as well, giving you the same treatment.

“yes, just a little disappointed that i had to get up.”

both of them chuckle.

“lo siento, mi amor. we know you love to sleep. it’s a big day, we have to make sacrifices.” your dad offers a sympathetic squeeze on your shoulder.

yeah, sacrifices such as arranged marriages.

your parents notice the hesitance and slight anxiousness, especially by the sad smile you offered as way of shielding your true feelings.

“we both know you aren’t happy about this and we’re very sorry. it’s just…” your mother deeply sighs, quite sadly. “it’s our duty, whether we like it or not. it’s a terrible way to say it but we always tell the truth.”

you nod, understanding. your parents always told the truth, that’s also what they taught you. they’re not ones to sugarcoat things. it’s better to know the truth than be told lies. they’re upset about this situation just as much as you are yet there isn’t anything to change it. you appreciate their sympathy, though.

another unfortunate fact is that your parents won’t be accompanying you on your journey to nueva york. they have their own kingdom to run. however, they do wish they could do. rather be with their daughter, help her through this life changing journey than stuck in their palace as she ventures on her own. they felt guilty yet you reassured them various times that it was understandable, it’s just how royalty is and they have their responsibilities. but deep down, you truly wish they could come along. luckily, lyla is accompanying you like always. at least you have someone close by your side.

it’s time for departure. standing in front of the palace while the silver carriage awaits you, it’s time to say goodbye to your family. the moment you’ve been dreading. it’s never easy to say goodbye, especially for your parents since they seem emotional. a thin layer of tears stain in your mother’s eyes as she slowly pulls you in a gentle, loving embrace.

“te quiero, mi luna. te quiero tanto. cuídate mucho, mi niña, por favor.” she pulls away but keeps you close, eyes filled with tears. “lo siento mucho… i wish we could come pero…” a sad sigh leaves her lips. “we’ll miss you so much, we’ll always be thinking about you. but remember, we’ll see you soon in a few weeks.” she offers a small smile, you mirror hers with a nod. “don’t worry too much, just be yourself.”

“i will, mamá, gracias.” you pull her into another embrace. “te quiero mucho.” a thin layers of tears of your own form in your eyes, emotions kicking in.

after a long moment of silent tears and soft sniffles, you release each other and you turn to your father who’s just as emotional as you and your mother.

“te quiero, mi princescita.” he follows suit by embracing you lovingly. “i’ll miss you very much. it won’t be the same without the sarcastic remarks thrown around the halls.” that makes you chuckle heartily and roll your eyes. “please be safe, mija.”

“i will, papí. te amo mucho.”

pulling away from your dad’s embrace, you glance at your parents one last time before retreating to the carriage awaiting you. the self-opening door actives as you approach closer, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. lyla follows behind you and takes a seat across from you. looking through the window, you sneak a final glance at your parents and give them a small wave, they do the same with smiles. your eyes never leave them as the carriage levitates and takes off. it isn’t until the palace is no longer in sight that you finally look away, letting out a sad sigh. lyla notices your sad expression and takes the opportunity to lay a hand on top of yours as comfort.

“it’ll be okay.” the female droid offers a kind smile.

you smile back and give her hand a gentle squeeze of appreciation. “i’m glad you’re here with me.”

“best friends stay together.”

that eases your anxiety. at least you’re not alone.

after about 2 hours, you arrive in the kingdom of nueva york. beautiful and exquisite as the holographs show when you did some research back then. the carriage slowly and steadily lands on the ground. just as you’re about to exit the vessel, behind the door reveals a metallic hand reaching out which confuses you for a moment. peeking out from the doorway, a very quiet gasp falls from your lips.

the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes bore into yours. the warm sunshine illuminates them so prettily, like two pools of honey. never has a pair of eyes ever taken your breath away, capture your attention in a heartbeat. probably the most beautiful brown eyes you’ve ever seen. it’s accompanied by a pair of very thick dark eyebrows, perhaps could be mistaken for caterpillars. your eyes trail down to the sharpest cheekbones to exist. so prominent against his skin. a swipe of your finger over them and grantee a paper cut. trailing back upwards, a cute fluff of brown locks that are brushed back but a few strands of hair dangles over the man’s face.

the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

a quick glance at his outfit (just envision the gold is replaced with silver instead), he wears a plot of silver armor that shimmers in the sunlight. the silver decorates over his impressively broad chest, to his arms and legs. it’s accompanied with a black cloak, his face is covered by its hoodie.

he is a knight.

“princesa.”

jeez, even his damn voice is attractive.

quickly snapping out of it with a few blinks after realizing how stupid you must’ve looked for staring a bit longer than usual, you take his hand and he helps you off the carriage. one quick glance at his hand and you try not to express the shock you feel at exactly how huge his were compared to yours. it completely consumes your hand, not to mention how warm he feels. the sensation causes a shiver down your spine. what is even more shocking is how abnormally tall this man was. you’re quickly caught off guard by having to crane your neck all the way up just to meet his eyes. he towers you completely, his tall large frame blocks the sun, casting a shadow over you.

damn, this man is a sculpture made by the gods.

the two of you stare at each other for a moment. gazes locked together, those honey orbs boring into yours. a silent moment between you two, as if you were already familiar with each other. not to mention his hand still holding yours, yet you don’t have the sudden urge to let go and neither did he. both of you snap out of trance at the metal clinking of lyla’s feet as she steps off the carriage and onto the floor. you quickly remove your hand from his and take a step back, not noticing the small frown on the knight’s face but it quickly vanishes and he remains stoic.

“wow, the holograms didn’t do this place justice.” the female droid chuckles as she does a 360 admiring the kingdom, but not ignoring the way you and the knight were close for a brief moment.

the knight rolls his eyes at the droid’s comment then looks back at you. “bienvenida, princesa. i’m miguel, you’re assigned knight during your stay here.” he takes a small bow of respect.

your brows furrowed in slight confusion. “assigned knight? i was never informed about this.”

now his brows furrowed as well. “perdóname, princesa but it’s accustomed here for a royal to have an assigned knight at their disposal.”

“a personal bodyguard?” you sound a bit in disbelief. this god sculpted-like man following you at all times? you’re like a fairy to him and he a giant. seems like a joke, but it is a royal custom. “my parents were never informed about this. when was this decided?”

“recently before your arrival, your highness. a last minute request by the queen. i was the first one chosen without further explanation.”

“hm…” you hum lightly. “well, i still prefer to be notified about any details beforehand. however, i appreciate your services, sir miguel.”

“it’s my task, your highness.”

one of your brows arches skeptically. “a task? i’m your task?” his choice of words rub you in a wrong way, perhaps feeling a bit offended.

a sigh falls from those plump lips of his, the same ones you haven’t noticed just exactly how plump they are until now. “yes, to provide protection at all costs and be present when needed.”

he doesn’t see you as a person but rather a task. something he needs to complete.

also, there isn’t much enthusiasm in his tone, rather sounds dreadful. that makes you frown a little. “not the task you anticipated, i presume?”

“the role of being the princess’s bodyguard isn’t exactly what i hoped to be tasked with.” a hint of cynicism lingers on his tongue with a dull expression on his face, as if he’s fed up or irritated.

now that ticked you off a little, maybe more than it should have. his sarcastic tone and attitude triggered a small spark of irritation in you. it’s amusing how your first impression of this particular knight changed in a matter of minutes, or even seconds. miguel may be handsome but unfortunately his attitude does not match. such a shame for a handsome to be ruined by negative energy.

so, you decide to match his attitude. “well, how unfortunate you can’t change anything about it.” without spearing him a glance, you begin walking away with much sass flowing through your veins.

miguel’s lips part open in disbelief at your sudden change of attitude. damn brat, he thought to himself. just as he’s about to defend himself and follow you, one of the queen’s handmaidens approach you. a woman he knows very well: his adopted mother.

may greets you with a smile and a bow. “welcome to nueva york, your highness. the royal family are pleased that you’re here. the queen would like to apologize for not meeting you properly, urgent matters took place but she’ll return momentarily. i’m here on her majesty’s behalf to welcome you. i’m may parker, the queen’s personal handmaiden.”

“thank you, may. no worries about the queen, i understand.” at least this woman has some kindness in her heart, unlike the brooding knight behind you.

“i see that you’ve met your assigned knight, miguel.” may briefly glances at miguel, who stands there with that typical series look she knows too well.

your expression falters a little from his name, which doesn’t go unnoticed by may. “he’s quite the character… definitely lacks in the kindness region.”

miguel doesn’t miss the sarcasm in your tone and lightly glares at you despite your back to him, although you can sense it making you smirk a little. may notices the tension between you two, finding it amusing how you two just met yet there is fire already ignited. she flashes a small smirk at her adoptive son, making miguel roll his eyes.

“you’ve been assigned with the grumpiness knight.” the little joke earns a light scoff from the said knight. “however, he does have a good heart.”

her words surprise you a little. well, perhaps miguel isn’t a complete grump but you have to witness that yourself since he’s now your bodyguard and will be by your side at all times. don’t judge a book by its cover. a cliche quote yet very true.

“now, if you’ll please follow me, your highness. let’s get you settled in, yes?”

you nod and allow her to take lead, miguel following behind you both. may gives you a tour of the palace, rooms, certain hallways, ballrooms, private gardens, then eventually your bedroom. the other servants carried and brought your belongings to your room, which you kindly thanked them for. it’s a beautiful room, decorated in periwinkle blue and silver. the colors that you love, coincidentally enough yet it brings a smile to your face. you settle yourself in your new room while miguel stands outside guarding.

while you store yours clothes and other belongings away, miguel recaps today’s events so far. it was completely unexpected. he woke up thinking it was an ordinary day of training until general stacy approached him with news about assigning him as the arriving princess’s bodyguard. his heart dropped ever so slightly in disappointment. the princess’s bodyguard? that sounds ridiculous, preposterous actually. being a bodyguard, nevertheless for a princess who he assumed was a typical brat like most royals, was definitely not what miguel wanted. out of all men, why was he chosen? there were far better suitors for the task. miguel is the irritating typer, definitely not for the princess type. however, general stacy believed he was the best man for the role due to miguel’s honor and loyalty. he is considered one of the best in the battalion. those that were suitable enough for royal protection. as much as miguel disliked the idea, he had no other choice but to accept. he didn’t want to disappoint the general and the queen since it was her request for the princess to have an assigned knight.

prior to your arrival, miguel was dreading. he was still in disbelief that this was going to be the most important task in his life; a bodyguard. he should training or on the battlefield, not babysitting a princess. the thought made his blood boiled in frustration and disappointment. miguel expected a spoiled brat that he’d have to deal with everyday, suck the soul of him with her brattiness. there wasn’t time to search up who the princess was since he was assigned last minute and you’d arrive soon. dread and annoyance flowed through his veins when he waited outside for your arrival. he simply couldn’t believe he was doing this. those feelings increased when your carriage came into view and landed. a deep sigh escapes his lips, pushing down those dreadful feelings before approaching the carriage. miguel imagined various scenarios of the princess. how she looked, behaved, dressed. behavior was his main concern. he had that typical scowl on his face, that he’s known for, while waiting for the potential spoiled brat behind the silver door. however, the minute the door opened and as he held out his hand, all those negative thoughts flew out the window.

the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. two dazzling jewels staring into his dull brown ones. the type of jewels hidden in back of a cave, the most beautiful ones best kept secret. never had such a gorgeous set of eyes captured miguel’s attention completely, felt so mesmerized by them. utterly hypnotized, lost in trance. adorned by the prettiest lashes, naturally thick and long, fluttering adorably. the most taunting yet prettiest lips. his eyes linger there a little longer than usual.

in simple terms, miguel was speechless.

lips agape, jaw slacked, and eyes slightly widen in in pure astonishment. his heart stopped beating for a moment. he swore an angel was in front of him. never had miguel witness such beauty before, the type of beauty that left him completely awestruck. this is the princess? this angel? this is who he is protecting? miguel was shocked, dumbfounded. more beautiful than he imagined. he briefly recalled one of his men saying how beautiful the princess was. he was not wrong indeed. miguel must’ve looked like an idiot for staring a little longer than usual and quickly snapped out of it to properly greet you. he almost lost it when he noticed the drastic height difference between you two. dear lord, he felt like a fucking skyscraper to you. he mentally cursed in shock at how small your hand was compared his abnormally larger one. but what truly captured his attention was the beautiful dress you wore. the pretty color of baby blue looked stunning on you, emphasizing your beauty. the silk fabric captures your curves gracefully. the pretty little silver tiara resting on your head. all was breathtaking.

when you first spoke to him, miguel has never heard such an angelic voice before. a voice he never thought he would wish to hear more of. not to mention how his heart fluttered, a sensation he’d never felt before and found it strange. a simple voice can trigger his body to reaction strangely. miguel didn’t like that, he shouldn’t feel like that. sure, he has encountered many women but none had the effect on him like you do - that confused him. it grew worse when you said his name. hearing his name from that angelic voice was irresistible. countless of people said his name, but none had the effect on him like you did. why he is behaving like that? so odd.

besides all of that, miguel doesn’t think you’re the spoiled bratty princess he originally thought. from a first impression, you seemed polite and respectful, sharing your appreciation for his service as your bodyguard. however, miguel’s irritation did get the best of him and caused his attitude to slip. he was being honest but that clearly backfired when you reflected the same energy. okay, you definitely have attitude as well but he may have triggered that. but the sass in your tone ignited a spark in him. alright, maybe you were a little brat. miguel figured this wasn’t going to be an easy task.

once you were situated, you take a moment to sit and reflect. it’s official, you’re here in nueva york to begin a new life. a life that was written for you. soon you’ll meet your future husband and mother-in-law, marry into the royal family, and begin a reign. it’s difficult to believe it is actually happening. the life you use to have, in your own home with your family, no worries and pure freedom. that is over and now you have to fulfill your duty as a princess. it’s only been a few minutes and you already miss home. your parents will visit in a few weeks, something you look forward to, but you still miss them dearly. at least you have lyla, your best friend and basically a sister to you since childhood. all you can hope for is this new life to be a good start, a good change.

“you alright, princess?” lyla’s voice snaps you out of thought as she takes a seat beside you.

“yeah, just can’t believe it’s happening. us, here. it just feels… surreal.” you sigh, shoulder slouched.

very slowly, she takes your hand in hers. the cold metal hits against your skin. “i know… it’s crazy how much time has passed, it’s honestly scary.” she softly chuckles. “but it’s gonna be okay. i got your back like always, we’re here together.”

“thanks, lyla.” you offer a smile, she does the same.

“princesa.”

the both of you turn to see miguel standing by the door, his hands behind his back.

“her majesty and the prince are here.”

you and lyla share a quick glance. she gives your hand a small reassuring squeeze before rising from the bed and exit the room, miguel following you.

passing through the extravagant halls decorated in royal blue and silver, you enter the main lobby where you were informed they would be in by miguel. a group of individuals stand in the middle of the lobby. the sound of your footsteps seem to alert them of your presence and turn around. there stood the queen and the prince. your breath hitches, a small ounce of anxiety beings flowing through your veins. this is the moment. there is no backing out. you know there isn’t anything to be afraid of, yet meeting the prince you’re arranged to be married but most importantly the queen is a bit nerve racking. considering she’s one the most powerful queen’s in history, of course you feel nervous. you take a quiet breath to calm the nerves as you make your way.

“your majesty, your highness.” you kindly greet with a smile and a small curtsy.

"princesa, bienvenida a nueva york.” conchata happily greets you with a smile and steps forward to bring you into a welcoming embrace, which you happily accept. “we’re so happy to have you here and finally meet you! you look even beautiful in person.”

“gracias, mi reina. i’m very happy to be here and thank you for your kind hospitality.”

“siempre, mija. you are a part of this family now, this is your home.” she said sincerely, smiling.

home, strange to call it that.

“i may introduce my son, prince gabriel.” she gestures at him, silently asking him to come forth.

the said prince steps up and your eyes widen in surprise. oh my… he’s way more handsome in person. those holograms don’t serve him justice. however, his beauty doesn’t take your breath away like it’s supposed to. gabriel may be handsome but you aren’t captivated. that is strange. you should be mesmerized by the man you’re supposed to marry, your future husband that you’ll spend the rest of your life with. but you’re not, that’s the problem. perhaps you’ve seen too many holographic images of him during your research of him when the arrangement was announced. back then, he did take your breath away. but now seeing him in the flesh, it was different. why is it? it shouldn’t be.

gabriel, on the other hand, is completely mesmerized by you. the holograms do not service you justice, not one bit. you’re simply breathtaking, ethereal. he can’t believe he’s to be married to an angel, that he will be your husband. the beautiful dress you wear emphasizes your beauty. he is utterly awestruck.

“y-you… you look even more beautiful in person.” the prince said bashfully, still mesmerized.

his compliment makes you smile, but doesn’t affect your heart like it should have. “you’re very kind, your highness. the holograms don’t serve you justice, either.” you try to reciprocate.

he tries not to gawk like an idiot. “welcome to our kingdom, princesa. i hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“gracias.” you offer a kind smile.

conchata seems pleased by the interaction, her son finally falling in love. she continues observing until her gaze shifts to the abnormally tall man standing behind you a few feet away, also observing the conversation while occasionally glancing around. her brows furrowed in confusion. never has she seen this man before. led with skepticism, she approached him discreetly to not interrupt your conversation.

“and who may you be?”

miguel is a bit surprised by the queen’s interest in him. “sir miguel, your majesty.” he takes a small bow. “the princess’s assigned knight.”

the queen raises a skeptical brow. she recalls her request for a knight prior to your arrival to ensure your safety at all times. apparently, general stacy didn’t informed her of the selected individual. “is that so?… i don’t recall seeing you before.”

his brows furrowed at that. “i’ve been a part of your army since i was 16, your majesty. general stacy recruited me and participated in many battles in your honor. the battlefield has taken most of my time, hence my lack of presence here.”

her eyes narrow slightly, still skeptical of him while digesting his background. but it seems legit, she believes him. “i see… perdóname for my accusations. i appall your bravery for this task.”

miguel bows in appreciation, however, he’s still skeptical. “gracias, mi reina.”

she gives him one final glance before returning to you and gabriel, her whole demeanor changed. smiling at you both, unlike the skeptical look she gave him just a moment ago. that causes him to frown. but miguel decides to discard it and focuses on his attention back on you. he observes you, the way your lips curl up into a smile, the way your eyes sparkle as you speak. supposed you seem content to finally meet your future husband. the two of you seem genuinely happy together, a good pair.

the conversation was going well until gabriel receives a transmission. “perdóname, princesa. i must take this.” he offers a meek smile.

“no te procupes, it must be important.” you smile.

he mirrors your smile before reaching in his clock and grabbing the hologram from his inner pocket. he turns around to receive the message privately, leaving you and the queen to wonder silently. it’s only a moment until the meeting ends and he turns back.

“lo siento, princesa. there is an expedition that i must join but it’s only for two days. i wish to stay here with you but…”

you shake your head, smiling softly. “it’s alright, your highness. it’s your responsibility, i understand.”

gabriel can’t help but feel more guilty. it was supposed to be getting to know you, not leaving you alone. it’s only been a few minutes yet he has to leave. “i promise to make up time when i return.”

“i’ll look forward to it.”

that somewhat eases his concerns. taking a step closer, he gently takes your right hand and presses a soft kiss on the back of it before leaving.

so much for meeting your fiancé.

as the prince leaves, conchata notices the slight disappointment in your face. “i know it was short notice but he’ll return soon and you two will get to know each other better.” she places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a smile of reassurance.

you simply smile back with appreciation.

“in the meantime, why don’t you explore more of the palace? now it’s your new home, you could get familiar with it.” the queen suggests.

well, perhaps that isn’t a terrible idea. you do in fact need to familiarize yourself with the palace since you’ll be living here now. something to occupy yourself while gabriel is away.

“perhaps i should, it’s quite huge compared to mine.”

that elicits a chuckle from her majesty. “it is indeed like a maze but don’t feel overwhelmed. most rooms are rarely used than others. my handmaiden may, who you met, can provide you a tour. or maybe your assigned knight,” she briefly glances at miguel, who’s brows furrowed a little but she ignores it. “unfortunately i can’t since i have matters to attend to. but please, don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

“i appreciate it very much, your majesty.”

“well, i’ll see you for dinner. welcome to nueva york, princesa. i truly hope you enjoy your stay here, i’m very happy you’re here.” she smiles.

“muchas gracias, i’m happy too.”

that was lie.

she gives you one final smile before walking away and exiting the room, leaving you with your knight. the clicking of her heels echo through the halls.

now left alone… how fun.

a quiet sigh falls from your lips, feeling a bit disappointed. that was definitely not what you imagined your meeting with the queen and the prince. traveled across kingdoms only to be left alone in a unfamiliar palace. honestly, taking a tour doesn’t sound appealing to you nor something you desire to do at the moment. you hoped to spend time with the prince but his presence is required somewhere else. although you have lyla and miguel at your disposal, you still feel alone. you let another sad sigh.

miguel notices the slight disappointment in your face and slouched posture. he can’t help but have some sympathy for you. it’s understandable that one moment you’re filled with excitement then faced with disappointment, no matter how you try hiding it. when the queen suggested him to provide you a tour of palace, assuming he knows it well enough since he’s a knight, miguel was a bit surprised. however, seeing you in such a solemn state, he agrees to do it. only if it means to raise your spirits. besides, you’re his responsibility now so he must keep you in check.

he breaks the silence with an awkward cough, causing you to turn around. “well, princesa… if you truly want, as the queen suggested, i can give you a tour of the palace or the kingdom.”

“oh um… i would appreciate that.”

you don’t seem convinced. miguel thinks of something particular to peak your interest. “i can show you the garden, the largest one in the land.” the way your eyes light up almost makes him smile.

“okay, you’ve caught my interest.” suddenly, your mood boosted. you adore gardens, mainly flowers. they’re such beautiful elements of nature.

the garden you have back home is your favorite place, spent most of your time there. your place of solitude. the elegant flowers, vibrant greenery, and the beautiful pond where you’d sit by and interact with the adorable ducks that lived there.

you walk past him heading for the main doors until you stop and turn around with a tiny smirk on your face. “well, sir miguel… show me what’s best here.”

miguel raises an eyebrow, amused by your demeanor. “claro, princesa.”

꣖　𝓣ags. ♡ྀིྀི　꣓⠀⠀@eatalyy @aphinthestars @oharaslove @marshmallowsforever @sylusslutkitten @seandiazsupreme @famouscattale @counterblows @lazyjellyfish300 @haveclayeveryday @redpearls0 @deputy-videogamer @thevenuscross⠀⠀꣖　must be 18+ to be tagged　꣓

“you gotta admit he’s adorable.” lyla magically pops by his shoulder, in awe of the little shark.

well… the little guy is kinda cute, miguel thought.

jeff sniffs around, getting a sense of this strange place until his tail starts wagging. miguel’s eyebrows furrowed at that, a bit skeptical. suddenly, he runs and jumps around miguel’s office.

“¡ay coño, no!” miguel curses and tries to catch him but ultimately fails since jeff is a literal bouncing ball.

“nom! nom! nom!” jeff exclaims excitedly, jumping around.

“this is amazing.” lyla chuckles, recording the incident with her phone. “just wait until she sees him.”

that causes miguel to stop in his tracks. oh he knows exactly who lyla is referring to. you, his loving wife who loves cute animals, would go batshit crazy if you ever saw jeff.

“don’t let her in here—”

“too late.” lyla winks with a smirk then disappears as you enter the office with a loving smile that always melts his heart.

“hola, osito. how are you— OH MY GOD!”

well, shit.

your screaming startle jeff a little but ultimately smiles when he sees you, tail wagging more excitingly.

miguel sighs, holding out a cautious hand. “mi amor, espera—”

“EEEEE!” you squeal excitingly, rushing past your husband and straight towards the cute baby shark on the desk with your arms wide open and jeff happily jumps into them.

your husband, on the other hand, stands there with a dumbfounded expression as you spin around in glee with jeff in your arms. totally not feeling abandoned by his wife. this is probably the happiest miguel has ever seen you. although the sight is heartwarming, he can’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. he spoke too damn soon.

“oh my god!” you squeal happily, squeezing the baby shark in your arms. “you’re the cutest fucking thing ever!”

“nom! nom!” jeff smiles at you.

“what’s your name?”

“his name is jeff.” miguel cuts in, still lowkey kinda bothered that you’re still haven’t looked at him this entire time. he can’t ignore the achy feeling in his chest the longer he stares.

you can’t help but snort because that reminds you of an iconic phrase from a comedy movie you like.

“hi jeff, you’re mine now.”

the baby shark nods, smiling. “mrrr!”

“you’re not taking him.” miguel approaches, hands on his hips.

now you finally look at him but with a lowkey pissed off look he instantly recognizes. “of course i’m taking him, bye.”

“you can’t take him! he’s an anomaly!” he tries to reason with you as you’re already walking away with the baby shark. “he’ll start glitching the moment you walk out of here.”

“well then give him a watch.”

“no.”

“pretty please.”

oh for fuck’s sake.

ultimately, miguel does give jeff a watch. mainly so he doesn’t piss you off. also because of those gorgeous beady eyes of yours that he can never resist and make his knees weak.

although he’s skilled in masking his true feelings, miguel still can’t deny that achy feeling in his heart as he watches you walk away with jeff in your arms, cooing and smiling at the tiny guy. for the first time, his wife completely ignored him. no hug, no kiss. a tiny shark creature got all of that attention, not him.

at first, he thought it was temporary. you’d spend time with jeff, get to know him and gush about him since he is adorable after all, then he’ll be sent back to his correct universe and you will return to your husband who desperately misses you.

oh the dumbass was so wrong.

due to your pleads and despite his complaints, you continue hanging out with jeff and miguel is not super thrilled about it. before, you used to visit HQ to see your husband. now, you’ve come see that damn shark and spend the entire day with him. hang out in miguel’s office, wonder around the society, eating together in the cafeteria. it pissed miguel off a lot. this little shark is getting all the attention from his wife and not himself. of course miguel denied it and pretend he doesn’t care, that you simply just adore the little guy and there was nothing much to it.

but it never stops! even at home you babble about how adorable jeff is, talk about the things you do together, and wish he would live at home with you. oh miguel is a big grumpy bug, pouting when you aren’t looking because deep down he is jealous. is he jealous of a baby shark? yes. will he ever admit it to you? no, absolutely not. but after denying it for a while, miguel admits to himself. how could he not? the amount of time you spend with jeff only left a little for miguel. he misses how much you babbled about him just like the way you are with jeff now. he misses having your attention, now being replace by a damn shark.

a baby shark stole his wife.

what a fucking joke.

but the truth is, he misses you.

now here he is, staring at the multiple screens with a scowl like usual. the clicking of heels reaches his ears and he instantly knows it’s you. instead of turning around and greeting you with a loving smile, miguel continues looking and swiping through the screens.

“hi, osito.” you greet him sweetly, approaching his side and giving his arm a gentle loving squeeze.

he only lets out a low hum, not meeting your gaze which makes your brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“what’s up?”

“nada.” his flat tone confuses you more.

gently tugging him by the bicep, you try to make him face you but miguel remains firmly in place.

“miguel, what’s wrong?”

“nada, just busy.” he shrugs off your hand, making your heart ache a little. “why don’t you go find your pet? bet he misses you.”

he’s referring to jeff. also, the jealousy in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed. you let out a soft, sad sigh. you know you’ve been spending much time with jeff recently. honestly, you can’t help it because he’s just an adorable little guy. but you’re aware of these actions having consequences on your relationship. you’ve notice the sadness in miguel’s eyes when you venture off with jeff. it’s a little stab to the heart to hurt him like that. jeff may be adorable but you love miguel more than anything or anyone, he’s the love of your life. you can’t blame him for feeling jealous and upset. lately, you been dialing back time with jeff so you’d be with miguel but he’s been putting some distance between you as well. it hurt and only motivates you more to fix this little problem.

“precioso, mírame pro favor.”

damnit, you plead so sweetly like that makes his knees weak.

finally, miguel turns to look at you and his eyes widen seeing your sorrowful ones. practically making him feel guilty for acting so cold, distant, and basically an asshole towards you. he’s about to spill out apologies but you beat him first.

“i know i’ve been spending so much time with jeff and i’m sorry for making you feel ignored. i did get carried away and didn’t realize i was hurting you until later on, i’m sorry.”

fuck, he feels extra guilty. your sorrowful tone and eyes makes his chest ache. he appreciates your apology and already forgave you in a heartbeat yet miguel still feels like the bad guy here.

“i’m sorry too, mi reina.” he raises a hand to cup your cheek, heart fluttering when you lean into his touch. “for being an asshole, distancing myself. that hurt more than anything.”

you offer a sad smile. “just know i’ll always love you and you can always tell me how you’re feeling. okay?”

miguel nods, appreciating your caring words. “siempre, tu tambien amor.” bending down, he captures your lips with his in a soft kiss which you happily reciprocate.

“nom! nom!”

the cute familiar sound makes you and miguel turn to find jeff sitting on the desk smiling at you both. the sight melts your heart, including miguel’s now that he isn’t bothered by his presence.

“my baby~” leaving miguel’s hold, you approach jeff with open arms and he happily jumps into them.

for once, miguel smiles at heartwarming sight. seeing you so happy and caring with the baby shark warms his heart. you never mentioned about babies before but you definitely have motherly instincts towards jeff, caring for him as if he’s your baby. sure, it’s quite amusing caring for a literal shark yet jeff is adorable. besides spidercat, spider-plushie, and mayday, jeff is definitely one of the cutest things miguel has ever seen.

turning to face miguel, you find him smiling which warms your heart. with a smile, you walk back to your husband with jeff in your arms. the little shark smiles at miguel.

“mrrr!” he suddenly jumps into miguel’s arms, who is caught off guard for a moment but quickly catches him.

“awww he likes you.” you smile.

“well… i can’t really blame you, he is cute.” miguel admits, meekly smiling at the baby shark in his arms who smiles at him.

“mrrr!” jeff pokes his broad chest.

miguel’s brows furrowed for a sec. “what?”

the baby shark continues poking his chest.

“he wants a suit.”

“seriously?” miguel’s brows rise in surprise and amusement. “alright, we can make him one.”

jeff shakes his head and pokes his chest again. “mrrr.”

“ohhh he wants your suit!”

“my suit?” miguel looks at him and he nods happily. “por dios.”

eventually, miguel gifts jeff with a mini version of his suit. the two stand side by side, both clad in red and dark blue. jeff beams and twirls in his new suit excitingly. a mini version of the iconic spiderman 2099. the adorable sight melts your heart completely.

“aww my precious babies!” you snap a pic of them.

miguel rolls his eyes but smiles, cheeks flushed.

had to welcome the newest member to the society properly.

jeff also became his unofficial adoptive son thanks to your a thousand pleads (lets pretend jeff isn’t kate and gwen’s pet in this). back at your shared apartment, there is a whole cabinet dedicated to all of jeff’s favorite snacks and drinks. a tiny water bowl with his name on it near the kitchen island. in one corner of the living room, there is a little (dog) bed for him where jeff takes occasional naps. your home is conditioned to jeff’s needs whenever he visits and miguel isn’t against it, rather happy to see the little shark in his home and making his wife happy.

one day miguel found you and jeff in the kitchen making dinner. the baby shark helps you with grabbing whatever spices, vegetables, or utensils you need. it’s a usual routine for you two and miguel loves walking in to find you both.

“hi, osito. dinner is ready.” you greet your husband with a kiss.

miguel kisses back, leaving a hand on your hip. “gracias mi amor.”

“it was jeff’s idea to make tamales tonight.”

“mrrr!” jeff exclaims happily from the counter, smiling.

“great choice, jeff.” miguel smiles at him.

the baby shark smiles then jumps onto miguel’s arm, who catches him with one arm while the other is wrapped around your waist.

another night miguel comes home late from a tough mission, expecting you to be awake like usual because most times you wait for him despite his pleads for you to sleep, he calls out your name but no answer which leaves him confused a little. entering your shared bedroom, miguel is about to call your name again until he finds you and jeff asleep, cuddling in bed. jeff is snuggled against you and your arms are wrapped around him as you both doze off. the sight melts miguel’s heart. his precious wife peacefully sleeping with the baby shark in her arms.

“preciosa…” miguel whispers as he leans over and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead then covers you and jeff with the sheets, quietly shutting the door to not disturb your slumber.

miguel loves his little family.

⠀⠀✸⠀⠀note.⠀⠀the suit idea is inspired by this cute artwork! btw this is a repost. if you saw this last week, no you didn’t lol.

after a stressful day at work, you decide to treat yourself with a nice relaxing bath. the marble tub filled with clean water, pretty pink flowers floating, candles of your favorite scent lit up around the tub, the weeknd softly playing from your phone, an exquisite glass of wine as a cherry on top.

leaving your robe hanging on the wall, you let a soft hum when the warm water hits your skin as you enter the tub. the comforting warmth instantly relaxing your stressed out body. the worries and frustration work left behind melts away, replaced with relaxation. a much needed break from reality.

although, one thing is missing to make this relaxation session perfect: your husband.

unfortunately, he couldn’t be here with you to indulge in this peaceful moment. too busy with out saving thousands of lives, which you deeply admire him for and can’t be more proud of him. of course you understand his responsibilities, you knew what you got yourself into when the relationship started. your heart holds not only love but admiration for your husband. an incredible hero and leader of an astonishing group of spider-people. but you fell in love with the man behind the mask.

miguel o'hara.

a smile creeps up to your lips as you admire the beautiful ring adored on your finger, glimmering in the soft candle lighting. two years of marriage so far and many more to come, for eternity.

you close your eyes and continue relaxing in the warm water, your back resting against the edge of the tub. your hands slowly maneuver in the water and delicately play with the pretty flowers, observing them glide across the water through hooded eyes. droplets of water trail down your arm as you reach for the glass of wine and take a slip of it. a satisfied hum rumbles from your throat at the delicious taste. setting it back on the little stand, you start lathering yourself with body wash. the citrusy scent blesses your scenes while gently lathering yourself with a loofah, softly humming to whichever song plays.

“qué hermosa.”

the familiar, sexy voice of your husband makes you turn in surprise to find him leaning against the doorframe, clad in his iconic red and dark blue nanotech suit, a pretty bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand that makes your heart flutter.

a smile graces your lips, pleased to see the man you love here at home. “how long have you been standing there?” you can’t help but tease him a little.

“more than i like to admit.”

catching him staring at you isn’t a surprise, it’s one of your favorite habits of his.

“peeping tom much?” you tease, considering you’re naked in a tub but his gaze never offends you.

“can’t blame me for having a beautiful wife.”

there he goes again making your heart flutter. even four years of being together, he still manages to make you feel like a shy schoolgirl.

“especially when she’s enjoying a peaceful moment like this.” miguel slowly makes his way towards you, those scarlet eyes never tear away from yours as he crouches in front of the tub facing you. “un ángel.” he whispers before leaning in to capture your lips with his. a soft, loving kiss and hearts filled with love.

“i missed you…” you whisper with fluttering lashes, caressing his cheek with a hand.

he gently takes your hand and presses a soft kiss in your palm. “yo tambien, mi reina. i always do, couldn’t wait any longer so i left jess in charge.”

“that desperate, huh?” you flash him that little smirk knowing it ignites a spark in him. “clearly you took a little pit stop on the way here.” your eyes flicker at the pretty bouquet in his hand.

“pues si, para mi esposa.” miguel observes you with a gentle smile as you admire the bouquet, delicately running your fingertips over the pretty petals.

“gracias, osito.” you sweetly kiss him, miguel gladly reciprocates and sets the bouquet on the little stand along with your phone and wine glass.

he tries to lean into your neck but your hands gently push him away, leaving him a bit confused.

“wait, i don’t want you getting wet.”

miguel can’t help but chuckle. you’re so cute, especially that cute pout. “mamí, getting wet is the least of my worries. i just wanna embrace my wife.”

“i’m literally covered in soap.”

“me vale madre, lemme hug my wife.” miguel doesn’t give you a chance to protest when his arms wrap around your soap covered body and finally embrace you like he has been wanting to do. you just gave in and embrace your husband, relishing his strong muscular arms around you.

“te extrañé mucho, preciosa. thought about you all day, just wanted to come home.”

your lashes start fluttering when you feel his lips leaving soft kisses on your neck, beginning to feel putty in his hold. “i’m glad you’re home and okay.”

god, how did he deserve an angel like you?

miguel always values the love and care you harbor for him. you are his safe haven, his home. after a long period of trapped in a black hole, he finally found the light he has been searching for.

“bad day at work?” he asks softly, moving away from your neck but remains close. his gloved fingers caressing your wet, exposed skin.

you let out a heavy sigh. “let’s just say people were being a bit difficult today.”

“hm, i’ll make things difficult for them.”

“i was actually thinking of strangling them but then they don’t deserve my energy. that’s why i came home and decided to take a nice bath.”

miguel softly chuckles, knowing you could’ve gave those idiots a piece of your mind since you’re quite a feisty woman but is relieved you chose to treat yourself something nice. you deserve it.

“looks very relaxing.” those crimson eyes scan the tub, the flowers, candles.

his eyes slowly rake over your glistening, soaked figure. from those pretty legs, to your torso, your soaped covered chest, up to the most gorgeous face he has ever seen. miguel has seen you naked countless of times before but this time is different. the sensual lighting of the candles, the non-subtle sexy music of the weeknd playing from your phone, you looking prettily in the tub completely naked and covered in soap. it all ignites a spark inside him, a carnal feeling. miguel can’t help it that his pretty little wife is sitting there with those gorgeous eyes, looking like a fucking goddess, completely naked.

“do you want something more relaxing?”

you recognize that hint of seductiveness in his tone, knowing where he is going with this.

“what do you got in mind?” you indulge in his playfulness, raising a brow.

a smug smile tugs on his lips. “lay back for me.”

his soft command makes your heart flutter and thighs squeeze subconsciously under the water. you scoot back until you’re resting against the edge of the tub. a rush of anticipation flows through your veins, wondering what he has in store for you. miguel scoots closer and slowly dips one hand into the tub, the glove disintegrates as he reaches the water, revealing his veiny calloused hand. you watch it disappear under the soapy water until your husband’s voice makes you look back him.

“eyes on me, preciosa.”

miguel smirks when you let out a pretty little gasp as his fingers glaze over your folds. taking note of the water shifting as your body jolts slightly. grinning ear to ear as his fingers find your pretty little clit and give it a few little circles, eliciting soft moans from you.

“keep those pretty eyes open, mamí.” your husband coos when you tip your head back.

you really try but it’s possible when this man is rubbing your bundle of nerves sinfully slow, it’s making your mind go berserk.

a loud moan erupts from your throat when two of miguel’s thick fingers slide through your tight walls, your left hand gripping onto the edge of the tub as support while arching your back. the bathtub water splashing a little as your body jolts.

“feeling better, bebita?” he coos while pumping his fingers in your tight cunt, softly groaning as your walls clench around his two digits.

“y-yes, oh my—” a moan interrupts you when his fingers reach that sweet spot inside. “miguel~”

“mi esposa hermosa~”

miguel admires your blissful expression. how beautiful you look while experiencing immense pleasure like you deserve. those pretty lips formed in an “O” shape, letting out the prettiest sounds ever that are pure music to him. those pretty lashes fluttering when he reaches that sweet spot over and over. you’re just so damn beautiful. he married a fucking goddess. sometimes miguel still wonders what the hell did he do to deserve you, nevertheless marry him. he feels honored to be married to you.

one of his favorite sights is seeing his wife experience beautiful pleasure. especially when you’re stress, it hurts him to see his angel stressed out or upset. you deserve it all the happiness and pleasure and miguel will forever provide it.

“mi amor, mi reina, mi alma, mi corazón.” miguel whispers sweetly against your lips, grinning at your blissful expression while pumping his fingers.

you softly mewl when his thumb rubs your clit. the slow, sinful circles on your sensitive pearl drives you insane. sliding up and down, side to side. you pull him closer by the shoulders and wrap your arms around them, needing to feel more, needing to feel him more. all you crave is your husband.

“i-i’m c-close.”

“ya sé, bebita.” miguel coos, his fingers picking up pace. “come for me, vale?”

you nod dumbly, too consumed by the intense pleasure his fingers were providing. that familiar warm sensation in your lower belly is approaching fast. a few more pumps of miguel’s fingers and flicks to your clit, you gush around them with a moan of his name right against his lips, tugging him closer by the neck to smash your lips against them.

“thanks.” you said breathlessly with a meek smile.

“ain’t finish, bebita.”

you squeal when miguel suddenly steps in the tub still in his suit, hovering over your smaller soaked form. a smug ass grin on his handsome face before smashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

“miguel! your suit!” your hands shoot up to his broad chest but obviously does nothing against him. cheeks burning, lashes fluttering, and completely flustered by your hunk of a husband above you in this small tub. well, actually it’s pretty averaged size but, to miguel, everything is small.

“no te preocupes, bebita. it can shut off, remember?” and with that, miguel’s suit disintegrates and reveals his nude form.

damn, you married some type of god. those scrumptious, bulging muscles that you love digging your nails into, especially his back. there is still scars of your nails from the other night. miguel loves it because it’s a reminder of you and your love for him, makes him smile when he sees it in the mirror every morning. he wears them like a badge of pride.

your lips collide again in soap covered kisses. your fingers digging through his soft brown hair then drag down to his back while miguel grips onto the ledge of the tub preventing him from crushing on top of you. groaning at the addictive sensation of your nails lightly dragging down his muscular back, almost causing him to break the damn tub.

“chingado- don’t do that or i’m gonna break the pinche tub.” miguel groans against your lips, heart fluttering at your cute giggles.

“then your big ass shouldn’t have gotten in the tub.”

he rolls his eyes. “then i’ll get a bigger one so i can make love to my wife properly.”

“then switch places because you ain’t breaking this tub.” such sass in your tone and he loves it.

you and miguel flip positions in the tub so you’re straddling him. your messy, passionate makeout session continues. your hands roaming over his muscles, lathering them in soap. his calloused ones roaming and groping each curve. underneath you feel his cock right against your throbbing cunt. aligning your cores together and gripping onto his shoulders as support, you slowly sink down his thick length. moaning in unison as you slowly take him inch by inch. no matter how many times you’ve taken your husband, the stretch always gets you.

your hips start off in a slow rhythm, feeling every vein of his thick cock among your tight walls. his bulbous tip kissing your cervix so perfectly, triggering an intense amount of pleasure coursing through both your bodies. feeling each other’s bodies so intimately, as if the entire world is a blur and only your love is the most important thing. an intimate moment in the small space of your shared bathtub.

“te quiero tanto, mi reina.” miguel whispers sweetly before letting a groan when you clench around him.

“te quiero, osito.” you moan prettily, arching your back as you continue riding him slowly.

with the help of his hands guiding your hips, you begin moving faster. moans of ecstasy bouncing off the four walls of the bathroom, water splashing and even some spilling out onto the floor. your back arches as miguel’s cock viciously pumps in and out of your tight pussy, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. miguel perversely stares at your jiggly tits before leaning forward to capture one nipple with his lips and suckles on it, eliciting a moan from you.

“miguel~” your fingers comb through those wet brown locks, scratching his scale that makes miguel’s eyes roll back in pleasure.

each clench of your tight pussy and those pretty sounds drive him insane. pounding into that sweet tightness to hear more of those pretty sounds his beautiful wife is making. a beautiful symphony miguel will gladly listen to for the rest of his life.

who would’ve thought he would come home to see his pretty little wife in the tub and make love to her inside? he simply can never resist you.

his lips alternate between both nipples before finally pulling away to look at you, grinning at your blissful state. “mírame, preciosa.” he softly chuckles at your whine. “lemme see my pretty wife.” his fingers gently tilt your chin up to meet his lust-blown gaze.

oh, what a beautiful sight.

“e-estas loco.” you try your best shooting him a glare but too cockdrunk to really pay attention.

“para ti, si. fuck~” miguel moans.

you both try maintaining eye contact but the pleasure is driving you towards the edge. bodies covered in soap pressed together, your soft tits against his broad chest. your fingers playing with his hair, miguel’s hands gripping and groping your hips. souls intertwined as you make impeccable love.

“miguel, i—”

“i know, bebita. me too, come with me.”

that delicious heat in your lower abdomens quickly builds up as miguel continues fucking you harder. hands interlocked and eyes boring into one another as you and your husband reach the pinnacle of ecstasy. your gushy essence decorated over his cock and miguel’s thick ropes of cum spurting into your womb, milking every drop he gives. your hips finally come to a stop and you stay like that. foreheads pressed together, panting in each other’s faces, basking in one another’s presence.

“yeah… that was more relaxing.”

miguel weakly chuckles, giving your hips a gentle loving squeeze. “anything for my wife.”

you two remain in that position for a few minutes. your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, fingers caressing your skin. relishing this quiet, peaceful moment together. two lovers embracing each other in the bathtub.

“we should probably get out before we get all pruney.” you break the silence with a little joke. “and clean up the mess we made.” there is definitely large puddles of water on the floor that escaped the tub.

miguel huffs. “we probably should.”

“pizza for dinner?”

“sounds great, mi reina.”

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

Jess smirked, “So, what was it? Do you need to rest or do you sneak someone here when we aren’t watching?” “I don’t know what you are talking a–” Miguel began answering as he turned around, but he was cut short when he looked at what Jess had at her feet. Miguel cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, really. Just some things that remind me of… Gabi! Yes, Gabi!” Miguel finished his sentence and turned around quickly, hiding his expression from her. “Mmm, okay. Let’s pretend I believe you. Just, maybe keep this under the desk if you don’t want people to find out.” She stated, gently pushing the box under Miguel’s desk with her foot. 

“I’m happy for you, you know?” She said, as she was about to leave the office. “There’s nothing to be happy about.” Miguel answered. “There sure isn’t”. And so, Jess left the office with a hint of someone making its way to Miguel’s cold heart.

Peter B was carrying Mayday, as usual. It didn’t matter how many times Miguel had asked him to leave her out of this. He wouldn’t get it. He needed to take care of his little girl. (Author note: do I resent Peter B a little for shoving Mayday down Miguel’s throat when HE WAS FUCKING THERE, when Mig lost Gabby? A little)

He swung into the office like it was his. “Miguel! My man. How are you doing?” “Peter,” Miguel growled. “How’s everything going?” Peter asked, looking around the office. “Oh sweet! You got a couch!” He swung towards it and slumped against it. “This is nice. Good decoration, I always said this office needed more things. It’s always so… dark.” “That’s not–” “Do you even use it? Why is it here?” “Yes! I use it.” Miguel stated, cold as usual. “I can barely fit in.” Peter answered, laying down on the couch, stretching as far as he could with Mayday on his chest. “How do you?” he asked. “I sit.” “Fair”

Weeks later, when Peter B. entered the lab again, a new couch was sitting there. “Oh now you can fit in here. Useful for power naps” “I don’t do power naps” “Then, why change the couch?” “Not your business” “Jeez, okay… Mayday no!”

Mayday had jumped from her father’s arms and swung onto Miguel’s platform. She had stuck on the side of it, and curiously began opening drawers. 

Before Miguel or Peter could stop her, she pulled out a chocolate bar from the top drawer. “Mayday, give me that!” Peter B. caught up to her and took her in his arms, snatching the bar out of her baby grip. “You can’t eat this–” he took a peek into Miguel’s drawer and saw all the other snacks laying around. “Woo, what’s all this?” Miguel didn’t answer, he just closed the drawer fast and continued with his work. 

Mayday was strangely looking up, giggling to herself and waving. Peter B. tried to follow her gaze, but nothing caught his eye. 

Little did they know, there was another Spider looking from above. 

Miguel’s POV

The things began appearing not because you took them to his space, but because Miguel ✧cared✧. 

He noticed how you liked sitting on his desk while visiting. At first, he thought it was because of the lack of another chair, so he got one. 

Despite the new sitting arrangement, the desk was still your preferred spot. You even fell asleep there sometimes. Given the new information, Miguel decided to keep the chair, but he wanted to surprise you. So before your usual (not scheduled, but he remembered when you liked to pop up) time of arrival, he placed the cushion on your regular spot. 

Later, Miguel’s heart couldn’t help but clench seeing your sleepy form. He didn’t know if you were actually cold or you just liked sleeping like that. But seeing you sleeping form curling on your self made him want to hug you and never let you go. So, one day the blanket appeared. You didn’t really need it, but once you were asleep, Miguel would always drape it over you. 

How could you sleep on the table? It was horrible. Miguel couldn’t quite understand. That, plus some thoughts he shouldn’t be having –like when you were asleep, he had an itch to caress your face with his hand, cup your cheek and give you a little kiss. Just a quick little peck in your forehead, puffed cheeks, nose, lips…– Anyway!

Clearly, your proximity was driving him insane. Thus, with the excuse or reason (to convince himself) of getting you more comfortable (and out of his space, even if deep down, he really didn’t care), the couch appeared. 

At first, you refused to take it, no matter how Miguel practically begged you to use it. He needed you to. He was losing his self control. Your scent linger everywhere, despite the fact you had left hours prior. Your voice calmed him down, something he thought was impossible. And, worse of it all, your rhythmic breathing when you were asleep lulled him to do the same. He wanted to curl beside you, pull you close and rest his eyes and mind for hours. Just with you by his side. 

Miguel knew you were probably better off without him. But, he was selfish. Thus, he was going to step back a little, but not let you go entirely. The discussion continued for probably half an hour, until Miguel gave in and you won. How could you not? Miguel folds like a fucking lawn chair just looking at your eyes and I’ll defend this with my life. 

So, he ends up letting you fall asleep at your usual spot, before carrying you bridal style to the couch. Lyla teased him about it, but he brushed it off. He was pushing his feelings down, scared of them bursting out every time you were near him. The folder Lyla created with pictures she took of both of you didn’t help. Miguel had stumbled upon it by mistake, and he would love to say he deleted it or ignored it. But, that wasn’t the case…

After a while… you realised what Miguel was doing. So, you began pretending to fall asleep on the table, and then, when he began carrying you to the couch, you would use what Miguel calls your power of persuasion, to make him lay there with you. He resisted at first, he really did. 

Though, one evening, you were really sleepy. Your eyes closed from time to time, but you didn’t want to fall asleep, Miguel could tell. He whispered to you that it was okay, that you could sleep. But, you answered that you wanted to be close to him, that you knew that once you were in the dream realm, he was going to take you to the couch. You pouted at him, telling him how the couch was cold without him. Miguel felt a sudden urge to tell you the real reason why he had to “push” you away, but he got scared. Luckily, you took the leap of faith. Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you, your lips smashing against his. Needless to say, that was the first day Miguel slept next to you. Uncomfortably, but warm to his heart. 

Obviously, you begging Miguel to sleep with you became a habit. Miguel didn’t always give in (his heart wanted to, but his brain was telling him that the multiverse needed his attention). But, let’s say twice or thrice a week, Miguel would find himself beside you, laying on the couch. Your head in his chest, his cheek resting on top of it, while he played with your hair. Because of this, the second, bigger, couch appeared. 

Lastly, you began spending more and more time with Miguel. That meant, you became hungry and thirsty as hours went by. Miguel knew how much you hated going to the cafeteria, lots of people, waaay too many. So, that’s how the snack drawer came to be. He learnt what your favourite foods, snacks and drinks were, and kept them on easy access, where you didn’t need to leave the comfort of his office. For your benefit, and for his. 

THE END

: ̗̀➛ masterlist : ̗̀➛ ao3

Jess smirked, “So, what was it? Do you need to rest or do you sneak someone here when we aren’t watching?” “I don’t know what you are talking a–” Miguel began answering as he turned around, but he was cut short when he looked at what Jess had at her feet. Miguel cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, really. Just some things that remind me of… Gabi! Yes, Gabi!” Miguel finished his sentence and turned around quickly, hiding his expression from her. “Mmm, okay. Let’s pretend I believe you. Just, maybe keep this under the desk if you don’t want people to find out.” She stated, gently pushing the box under Miguel’s desk with her foot. 

“I’m happy for you, you know?” She said, as she was about to leave the office. “There’s nothing to be happy about.” Miguel answered. “There sure isn’t”. And so, Jess left the office with a hint of someone making its way to Miguel’s cold heart.

Peter B was carrying Mayday, as usual. It didn’t matter how many times Miguel had asked him to leave her out of this. He wouldn’t get it. He needed to take care of his little girl. (Author note: do I resent Peter B a little for shoving Mayday down Miguel’s throat when HE WAS FUCKING THERE, when Mig lost Gabby? A little)

He swung into the office like it was his. “Miguel! My man. How are you doing?” “Peter,” Miguel growled. “How’s everything going?” Peter asked, looking around the office. “Oh sweet! You got a couch!” He swung towards it and slumped against it. “This is nice. Good decoration, I always said this office needed more things. It’s always so… dark.” “That’s not–” “Do you even use it? Why is it here?” “Yes! I use it.” Miguel stated, cold as usual. “I can barely fit in.” Peter answered, laying down on the couch, stretching as far as he could with Mayday on his chest. “How do you?” he asked. “I sit.” “Fair”

Weeks later, when Peter B. entered the lab again, a new couch was sitting there. “Oh now you can fit in here. Useful for power naps” “I don’t do power naps” “Then, why change the couch?” “Not your business” “Jeez, okay… Mayday no!”

Mayday had jumped from her father’s arms and swung onto Miguel’s platform. She had stuck on the side of it, and curiously began opening drawers. 

Before Miguel or Peter could stop her, she pulled out a chocolate bar from the top drawer. “Mayday, give me that!” Peter B. caught up to her and took her in his arms, snatching the bar out of her baby grip. “You can’t eat this–” he took a peek into Miguel’s drawer and saw all the other snacks laying around. “Woo, what’s all this?” Miguel didn’t answer, he just closed the drawer fast and continued with his work. 

Mayday was strangely looking up, giggling to herself and waving. Peter B. tried to follow her gaze, but nothing caught his eye. 

Little did they know, there was another Spider looking from above. 

Miguel’s POV

The things began appearing not because you took them to his space, but because Miguel ✧cared✧. 

He noticed how you liked sitting on his desk while visiting. At first, he thought it was because of the lack of another chair, so he got one. 

Despite the new sitting arrangement, the desk was still your preferred spot. You even fell asleep there sometimes. Given the new information, Miguel decided to keep the chair, but he wanted to surprise you. So before your usual (not scheduled, but he remembered when you liked to pop up) time of arrival, he placed the cushion on your regular spot. 

Later, Miguel’s heart couldn’t help but clench seeing your sleepy form. He didn’t know if you were actually cold or you just liked sleeping like that. But seeing you sleeping form curling on your self made him want to hug you and never let you go. So, one day the blanket appeared. You didn’t really need it, but once you were asleep, Miguel would always drape it over you. 

How could you sleep on the table? It was horrible. Miguel couldn’t quite understand. That, plus some thoughts he shouldn’t be having –like when you were asleep, he had an itch to caress your face with his hand, cup your cheek and give you a little kiss. Just a quick little peck in your forehead, puffed cheeks, nose, lips…– Anyway!

Clearly, your proximity was driving him insane. Thus, with the excuse or reason (to convince himself) of getting you more comfortable (and out of his space, even if deep down, he really didn’t care), the couch appeared. 

At first, you refused to take it, no matter how Miguel practically begged you to use it. He needed you to. He was losing his self control. Your scent linger everywhere, despite the fact you had left hours prior. Your voice calmed him down, something he thought was impossible. And, worse of it all, your rhythmic breathing when you were asleep lulled him to do the same. He wanted to curl beside you, pull you close and rest his eyes and mind for hours. Just with you by his side. 

Miguel knew you were probably better off without him. But, he was selfish. Thus, he was going to step back a little, but not let you go entirely. The discussion continued for probably half an hour, until Miguel gave in and you won. How could you not? Miguel folds like a fucking lawn chair just looking at your eyes and I’ll defend this with my life. 

So, he ends up letting you fall asleep at your usual spot, before carrying you bridal style to the couch. Lyla teased him about it, but he brushed it off. He was pushing his feelings down, scared of them bursting out every time you were near him. The folder Lyla created with pictures she took of both of you didn’t help. Miguel had stumbled upon it by mistake, and he would love to say he deleted it or ignored it. But, that wasn’t the case…

After a while… you realised what Miguel was doing. So, you began pretending to fall asleep on the table, and then, when he began carrying you to the couch, you would use what Miguel calls your power of persuasion, to make him lay there with you. He resisted at first, he really did. 

Though, one evening, you were really sleepy. Your eyes closed from time to time, but you didn’t want to fall asleep, Miguel could tell. He whispered to you that it was okay, that you could sleep. But, you answered that you wanted to be close to him, that you knew that once you were in the dream realm, he was going to take you to the couch. You pouted at him, telling him how the couch was cold without him. Miguel felt a sudden urge to tell you the real reason why he had to “push” you away, but he got scared. Luckily, you took the leap of faith. Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you, your lips smashing against his. Needless to say, that was the first day Miguel slept next to you. Uncomfortably, but warm to his heart. 

Obviously, you begging Miguel to sleep with you became a habit. Miguel didn’t always give in (his heart wanted to, but his brain was telling him that the multiverse needed his attention). But, let’s say twice or thrice a week, Miguel would find himself beside you, laying on the couch. Your head in his chest, his cheek resting on top of it, while he played with your hair. Because of this, the second, bigger, couch appeared. 

Lastly, you began spending more and more time with Miguel. That meant, you became hungry and thirsty as hours went by. Miguel knew how much you hated going to the cafeteria, lots of people, waaay too many. So, that’s how the snack drawer came to be. He learnt what your favourite foods, snacks and drinks were, and kept them on easy access, where you didn’t need to leave the comfort of his office. For your benefit, and for his. 

THE END

: ̗̀➛ masterlist : ̗̀➛ ao3

Jess smirked, “So, what was it? Do you need to rest or do you sneak someone here when we aren’t watching?” “I don’t know what you are talking a–” Miguel began answering as he turned around, but he was cut short when he looked at what Jess had at her feet. Miguel cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, really. Just some things that remind me of… Gabi! Yes, Gabi!” Miguel finished his sentence and turned around quickly, hiding his expression from her. “Mmm, okay. Let’s pretend I believe you. Just, maybe keep this under the desk if you don’t want people to find out.” She stated, gently pushing the box under Miguel’s desk with her foot. 

“I’m happy for you, you know?” She said, as she was about to leave the office. “There’s nothing to be happy about.” Miguel answered. “There sure isn’t”. And so, Jess left the office with a hint of someone making its way to Miguel’s cold heart.

Peter B was carrying Mayday, as usual. It didn’t matter how many times Miguel had asked him to leave her out of this. He wouldn’t get it. He needed to take care of his little girl. (Author note: do I resent Peter B a little for shoving Mayday down Miguel’s throat when HE WAS FUCKING THERE, when Mig lost Gabby? A little)

He swung into the office like it was his. “Miguel! My man. How are you doing?” “Peter,” Miguel growled. “How’s everything going?” Peter asked, looking around the office. “Oh sweet! You got a couch!” He swung towards it and slumped against it. “This is nice. Good decoration, I always said this office needed more things. It’s always so… dark.” “That’s not–” “Do you even use it? Why is it here?” “Yes! I use it.” Miguel stated, cold as usual. “I can barely fit in.” Peter answered, laying down on the couch, stretching as far as he could with Mayday on his chest. “How do you?” he asked. “I sit.” “Fair”

Weeks later, when Peter B. entered the lab again, a new couch was sitting there. “Oh now you can fit in here. Useful for power naps” “I don’t do power naps” “Then, why change the couch?” “Not your business” “Jeez, okay… Mayday no!”

Mayday had jumped from her father’s arms and swung onto Miguel’s platform. She had stuck on the side of it, and curiously began opening drawers. 

Before Miguel or Peter could stop her, she pulled out a chocolate bar from the top drawer. “Mayday, give me that!” Peter B. caught up to her and took her in his arms, snatching the bar out of her baby grip. “You can’t eat this–” he took a peek into Miguel’s drawer and saw all the other snacks laying around. “Woo, what’s all this?” Miguel didn’t answer, he just closed the drawer fast and continued with his work. 

Mayday was strangely looking up, giggling to herself and waving. Peter B. tried to follow her gaze, but nothing caught his eye. 

Little did they know, there was another Spider looking from above. 

Miguel’s POV

The things began appearing not because you took them to his space, but because Miguel ✧cared✧. 

He noticed how you liked sitting on his desk while visiting. At first, he thought it was because of the lack of another chair, so he got one. 

Despite the new sitting arrangement, the desk was still your preferred spot. You even fell asleep there sometimes. Given the new information, Miguel decided to keep the chair, but he wanted to surprise you. So before your usual (not scheduled, but he remembered when you liked to pop up) time of arrival, he placed the cushion on your regular spot. 

Later, Miguel’s heart couldn’t help but clench seeing your sleepy form. He didn’t know if you were actually cold or you just liked sleeping like that. But seeing you sleeping form curling on your self made him want to hug you and never let you go. So, one day the blanket appeared. You didn’t really need it, but once you were asleep, Miguel would always drape it over you. 

How could you sleep on the table? It was horrible. Miguel couldn’t quite understand. That, plus some thoughts he shouldn’t be having –like when you were asleep, he had an itch to caress your face with his hand, cup your cheek and give you a little kiss. Just a quick little peck in your forehead, puffed cheeks, nose, lips…– Anyway!

Clearly, your proximity was driving him insane. Thus, with the excuse or reason (to convince himself) of getting you more comfortable (and out of his space, even if deep down, he really didn’t care), the couch appeared. 

At first, you refused to take it, no matter how Miguel practically begged you to use it. He needed you to. He was losing his self control. Your scent linger everywhere, despite the fact you had left hours prior. Your voice calmed him down, something he thought was impossible. And, worse of it all, your rhythmic breathing when you were asleep lulled him to do the same. He wanted to curl beside you, pull you close and rest his eyes and mind for hours. Just with you by his side. 

Miguel knew you were probably better off without him. But, he was selfish. Thus, he was going to step back a little, but not let you go entirely. The discussion continued for probably half an hour, until Miguel gave in and you won. How could you not? Miguel folds like a fucking lawn chair just looking at your eyes and I’ll defend this with my life. 

So, he ends up letting you fall asleep at your usual spot, before carrying you bridal style to the couch. Lyla teased him about it, but he brushed it off. He was pushing his feelings down, scared of them bursting out every time you were near him. The folder Lyla created with pictures she took of both of you didn’t help. Miguel had stumbled upon it by mistake, and he would love to say he deleted it or ignored it. But, that wasn’t the case…

After a while… you realised what Miguel was doing. So, you began pretending to fall asleep on the table, and then, when he began carrying you to the couch, you would use what Miguel calls your power of persuasion, to make him lay there with you. He resisted at first, he really did. 

Though, one evening, you were really sleepy. Your eyes closed from time to time, but you didn’t want to fall asleep, Miguel could tell. He whispered to you that it was okay, that you could sleep. But, you answered that you wanted to be close to him, that you knew that once you were in the dream realm, he was going to take you to the couch. You pouted at him, telling him how the couch was cold without him. Miguel felt a sudden urge to tell you the real reason why he had to “push” you away, but he got scared. Luckily, you took the leap of faith. Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you, your lips smashing against his. Needless to say, that was the first day Miguel slept next to you. Uncomfortably, but warm to his heart. 

Obviously, you begging Miguel to sleep with you became a habit. Miguel didn’t always give in (his heart wanted to, but his brain was telling him that the multiverse needed his attention). But, let’s say twice or thrice a week, Miguel would find himself beside you, laying on the couch. Your head in his chest, his cheek resting on top of it, while he played with your hair. Because of this, the second, bigger, couch appeared. 

Lastly, you began spending more and more time with Miguel. That meant, you became hungry and thirsty as hours went by. Miguel knew how much you hated going to the cafeteria, lots of people, waaay too many. So, that’s how the snack drawer came to be. He learnt what your favourite foods, snacks and drinks were, and kept them on easy access, where you didn’t need to leave the comfort of his office. For your benefit, and for his. 

THE END

: ̗̀➛ masterlist : ̗̀➛ ao3

On the fourth day though, that routine was interrupted by a knock on the door. Who was up so early on a Saturday? You were disorientated, your throat still burning with the acid. It took you a couple of seconds to remember that your friend was coming over. Right! As a reminder clicked on your head, you shouted a quick “Coming!”. You cleaned yourself as best and fast as you could, and rushed to the door. 

You opened it, being met with the smiley face of your best friend. 

“Hey…” she started, before shutting her mouth. She stared at you, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you okay?” she asked, worry evident in her voice. “You look like shit.”

“Gee thanks, I love you too.” you answered, moving aside to let her in. 

“What’s wrong?” she pressed, walking in. She took her shoes off and hung her jacket and purse. 

You sighed, closing the door. You were tired. Despite the awesome sleep at nights, emptying your insides  was wearing you down. 

“I puked, again” you emphasized. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“What do you mean again?”

You walked to your couch and plop down. Your friend followed after you. 

“Oh right, I haven’t told you.” you said, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. “This is the fourth morning I vomit”

“Always in the morning?” she questioned, brow furrowed. 

“Yeah…” you trailed, taken aback by the query. “Why? It doesn’t–”

“Girl, really?” she laughed. “For being one of the smartest people I know, you sure don’t seem like it.”

“The hell are you talking about?” you asked.

She laughed. “When was your last period?”

You furrowed your brow. What did that have to do with…

Oh.

OH. 

Your eyes opened like plates. “You don’t think…” your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Don’t panic!” she stated, standing up in a rush and grabbing her things from the rack. “I’m going to run to the farmacy and get you some tests. Oh my god, I’m so excited.”

Your friend put her shoes on at lighting speed and before you could say something else she blew you a kiss and was out of the door. 

 And just like that, you were alone. Or, were you? You looked down at your stomach, pondering the implications. Could you be pregnant?

It was a possibility. You and Miguel… well. You could count with your fingers the amount of nights where you went to bed and straight to sleep last month. How could someone blame you? Anyone would throw themselves at Miguel if they had the chance. You were just lucky. 

The thing was, you used protection all the time. You weren’t on birth control because of the whole hormone shit, which you didn’t like. But you used condoms. Right? 

You stood up, too anxious to just sit around and wait. You paced around your living room, biting your nails, trying to remember if there was a night where you had been reckless. The events of previous nights with Miguel flashed through your head. 

The way he was always careful with you, treating you like you were going to break at any second. Sweet nothings whispered in your year. Spanish words and curses flying out of his mind when he was close. His caresses after it was done. Lips brushing against your naked flesh, leaving goosebumps in its path. 

One night in particular materialized in your head. You had been teasing Miguel all day. Sending him pictures, flirting more than usual, lingering touches here and there. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were in the kitchen, and before you knew it, Miguel had you pinned to the bed. The pace wasn’t the problem. Despite how hungry you were for each other, you two were responsible. 

However, you remembered what Miguel had growled in your ear. You hadn’t paid too much attention to it. You brushed it off as a heat of the moment kind of thing. Miguel was on top of you, caging you with his body. Almost crushing you with his weight. His thrusts had begun to become uneven, signalling he was close. His hands grew desperate, groping and squishing every inch of your body. Incoherent rambles and noises escaped your lips. Miguel’s breath became more ragged. 

He was needy, he needed you more than ever. Miguel loved talking to you while he fucked you. Sometimes, he would say sweet things. Others, he would try to make you remember who you belonged to. Not like you could ever forget. That night was one of those times. Miguel had told you how you were his, how he was going to  make everyone see. He was going to make you pregnant, so everyone could see in your growing belly that you were his, and he was yours. 

You rested your forehead against the nearest wall. Did he really mean it? You were hoping that he was. You wanted children, but did he? You knew about Gabby and how that affected Miguel. He had shown you the videos. Explained to you the consequences. Obviously, being from the same universe and you just being a mere civilian, the stakes weren’t as high. However, you also knew how harsh Miguel was on himself. How he saw the responsibility of being Spiderman. 

You had never talked in depth about what you wanted to do after marriage. Sure, you had joked about having little yous and little Miguels running around the house, but never serious. You lived in a good apartment, but it only had two bedrooms. One which was used as Miguel’s study, for when he had to do some work at home. 

Being pregnant meant a lot of changes. To your body, to your relationship. To your way of life. You started weeping. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you made no effort to clean them. You just let the emotions run through you, letting them out completely. You were so immersed in your thoughts you didn’t hear your friend coming back. 

You jumped back when she placed her hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey,” she whispered. “Everything is going to be fine.”

You just nodded, not trusting your voice. She handed you the bag. Peeking inside, you saw three pregnancy tests. This was it. The moment that would change the course of your life forever, or not. You had never been so anxious for a test. 

You dragged your feet to the bathroom, your friend trailing behind you. She waited outside while you took them. Once you were done, you placed them on the sink. You stared at them, terrified. You couldn’t decide what you wanted. Positive or negative? Either way, you knew you were going to be a crying mess. 

Thank god your friend was there to calm you down. You waited patiently. Those minutes felt like an eternity. 

Your timer went off, startling you. Okay, this was it. This result could change your life forever, or honestly? Crush you. You were so ready, you wanted this, despite the fact that you were also scared of how Miguel was going to react. 

Your friend pushed you forward slightly, urging you to go. You walked slowly, each step weighing more than the last. You closed your eyes on the last part, reaching the sink using your other senses. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes, peeking at the tests. Soon, you found out that it wasn’t the brightest idea. Two lines can easily look like one with your eyes barely open. You stared at the three tests, all reading the same. 

Positive. 

You were pregnant. Holy shit!

You turned around, clutching your stomach. Tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“I’m pregnant” you croaked out, a lump forming in your throat. 

Your friend smiled, and hugged you. You buried your face on her shoulder, embracing her tightly. 

“Are we happy?”

You nodded against her form. 

“Good. So there is nothing to worry about. Only maybe looking for a new apartment. Or making this one work, for now.”

You chuckled, pulling back and cleaning your tears with the back of your hands. 

“Yeah, well. And telling Miguel” you sniffed. 

“Pfft, girl please. That man is utterly madly in love with you. He would move heaven and Earth to be with you forever. Besides, he seems like the ‘I want to be a dad type’” she said.

Yeah. He was. Miguel loved being Gabby’s dad. But that was part of the issue, and your friend didn’t know that. 

“Yeah, I know” you mumbled, not sharing your thoughts. 

“So? Let’s celebrate!” she smiled at you, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Maybe later. I really want to tell Miguel and be with him now.”  you said, rubbing your arm. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! This is a big moment for the both of you.” she answered, taking your hands in hers and squeezing them. “Take your time, tell me how it goes later.”

“Thank you.” you beamed at her. You really won the lottery with this friendship. 

You walked your friend to the door, kissed her goodbye and sent her on her way. Once you closed the door, you started crying again. Happy tears? Who knows. You were overcome with emotions, but the most prominent one was anxiousness. You really wanted to talk to Miguel. Tell him how much this meant for you, and hope for the best. 

You decided that it was best to take this to his territory, the society. It had been a while since you had been there, and you missed it. Besides, you felt that if Miguel needed some time, it would be easier for you to split. If you had called him and forced him to come home, and then he decided to leave, that would break your heart. 

Plus, you also thought that it would be a good idea to take something. Probably food. But first, you had to shower. While cleaning yourself, you decided to make him empanadas from scratch. You had the ingredients at home, you had done it before, and if everything went right, they would be ready by lunch time. Perfect. 

Excitedly, you got to work. Once they were ready, you changed into a nice dress, applied some make up and braced yourself for the talk that was coming.

The building of the Society never failed to amaze you. The whole city of Nueva York was beautiful, but that one had something else. You walked into the building passing like a million Spider-men? Spider-women? Spider-things? You don’t know. At the start of your relationship you would ask for everything. Name, story, universe, whatever you could think of. Miguel never refused, because he trusted you. But after the hundredth Peter Parker, you gave up. Thank god Miguel had Lyla, otherwise he would go crazy.

One of the other perks of being with the boss was that he had adapted part of the building for you. It was initially thought of as a place for Spider people, so there wasn’t really a need for stairs and even floors to walk on. There wasn’t really a ‘correct’ way to walk here. Ceiling? Fine. Walls? Fine. They all probably thought the floor was boring. Which it was, you can’t say you weren’t jealous watching all of them swing around and stick to shit like it was nothing. 

You were grateful for the distraction. 

Each step towards Miguel’s lab was exhausting. Fear crawled its way into your bones. Your hands carrying the boxes of food began to shake, despite the many attempts to stop them. Spider people passed by you, some familiar. They all stared at you, the ones that knew you greeted you. Thankfully, none commented on why you were there, or why you looked so anxious. You could feel beads of sweat running down your neck.

You reached the doors to Miguel’s lab. Closed. Typical. You cleared your throat. It didn’t matter how many times you did it, but talking to thin air while speaking to Lyla without seeing her was mind blowing, and also, a little embarrassing. 

“Umm… Lyla?” you asked, looking around. Where are you supposed to look when talking to an AI that is everywhere?

“Oh hi!” Lyla greeted you, appearing right in front of your face. “What brings you here?”

“Just bringing Miguel some food” you showed her the containers on your hand. 

“Great! He is grumpy as always. This for sure will cheer him up.” She smiled at you, opening the door to the lab.

“He isn’t grumpy.” you defended your boyfriend. “Maybe he has reasons to be so angry around here. He is a big teddy bear.”

Lyla laughed at that. “Oh, don’t make me laugh” she said, cleaning a fake tear from the corner of her eye. “But if you do have embarrassing pictures of him, send them my way.”

“Lyla!” the sound of your boyfriend’s voice cut off your conversation. 

There he was, in his full glory. His platform descending, making him look like a God. Which he was, in your books at least. 

You hurried forward, not even waiting for the platform to reach the bottom.

“Hola mi vida” Miguel smiled at you. 

You jumped on the platform, placing the boxes on the desk before hugging Miguel.

“Someone is excited,” Miguel commented, hugging you back and chuckling. 

“How could I not?” you said, looking up at him. “I have the best boyfriend in the world. Despite the fact he leaves me in a cold bed” you pouted. 

“Mmm.. if I remember correctly, you knew exactly what you were signing for.” he teased, bending down to peck your lips. 

You got into your tiptoes, helping him. You hummed into the kiss. “Yeah, maybe. I’m just so crazy about you.”

“I’m the crazy one.”

Just as you were about to kiss again, you heard a camera click. Miguel pulled back and whipped his head towards the sound. “Lyla!” 

The AI disappeared in a fit of laughter. You giggled too.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Miguel mumbled, peeling himself off of you. “What brings you here anyway?”

The question took you back to reality. You weren’t there just for fun. You had something important to say. 

“I– umm” you began. “I brought you empanadas!” you turned around and picked the boxes quickly, almost dropping them. 

“What did you do?” Miguel asked, hands on his hips. He smirked. 

“Nothing!”

“Mmm..” Miguel eyed you, but took the boxes nonetheless. He opened the first one and smelled it. “This smells so good. Gracias beba.” He pecked your forehead quickly, before putting the first empanada in his mouth. 

“So…” you began. “What are you doing?” 

“Besides the usual, you mean?” Miguel asked. He arched his brow.

“Yeah!”

He finished the rest of the empanada before setting the box down. 

“Okay, you are acting weird. What’s wrong?” his whole attention on you know. His sharp, red eyes staring at you.

“What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine. Perfectly normal.” you lied. You couldn’t tell him, not now. 

“Yeah, and I’m the funniest Spider-man” he said sarcastically. 

You bit your lip. Your hands were sweaty. You could feel tears forming in your eyes, blurring your sight. 

“I–” you swallowed heavily. “I– I can’t, I can’t say it.” You shut your eyes, tears spilling out. 

“Shh mi amor. Why are you crying?”

Miguel cradled your face, wiping the tears of your cheek. 

“Look at me beba. I hate seeing you cry”

You opened your eyes slowly. You were met by Miguel’s loving gaze. You cried harder. Miguel pulled you into a hug. You buried your face into his chest while he rubbed your back. 

“Shh it’s okay. Whatever it is, we will work it out together. Like we always do.”

You shook your head. 

“No?” He asked. “Why? Please tell me.”

You could hear the worry in his voice. You hated it. But you were also terrified of him leaving you. 

“I’m scared,” you confessed. 

“Of me?” Miguel said, barely above a whisper. 

You looked up quickly, seeing his hurt face. 

“No no, I could never be scared of you” you placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you more than anything.”

He nuzzled against it, kissing your open palm.

“So tell me.”

You stared at his face for a while, seeing how soft he looked at that moment. You couldn’t grasp how someone could be scared of him. Curse you for using that word. You knew how much that affected him. How he viewed himself. You trailed his features with your eyes, burning in your memory how he looked. If this was the last time… you wanted to remember everything. 

You stepped back, detaching yourself from Miguel. You took a deep breath, calming down. 

“I’m–” you began, your voice wobbly. “I’m pregnant.”

Everything stopped. Miguel took a step back, staring at you with wide eyes. 

The air in the lab grew thicker. That, or you were hyperventilating. It was harder to breathe. Every passing second Miguel didn’t answer, a million thoughts ran through your head. 

That’s it. He was going to shout at you and tell you to leave. 

No! He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t be mean. Don’t think like everyone did. You know Miguel, the real Miguel. The man who cares. The man who despite being angry at you, found the time to make sure you are okay. Miguel, who made you meals and did things he didn’t like because of you. 

He could not want children, but he would never leave you stranded. Fencing by yourself. 

“You–” Miguel began, breaking the silence. “You are pregnant?”

You bit your lip, and nodded. You couldn’t trust your voice. 

Miguel stumbled back, crashing into his desk. He rested against it, rubbing his face. 

“Miguel?” you said quietly. “Please say something.”

A minute passed. 

Nothing. 

Sadness bubbled inside of you. You were crying again. You felt like you were about to lose the love of your life. Trying to make things better, you started to ramble. 

“It’s just–” your voice broke, sobs escaping your mouth. “I know how hard it was for you with Gabby. How much she meant to you. And, I want this baby, I really do!” you cried, doing your best effort to stare at his face while talking. “And– and, I don’t know what you want. I don’t– I can’t live without you. I want you and this” you placed your hand in your belly. “I want to be a family, with you. But I– I’m scared” you sobbed, looking down. 

You heard Miguel walk towards you, and then his fingers under your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes. “Mi amor” he whispers. “No llores más mama.” 

The gentleness of his voice made you sob harder. Miguel grabbed the sides of your face with both his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears away. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. He caressed your cheeks, before kissing your forehead, then your closed eyes. Your nose, both your cheeks. Finally, he pulled you forward slightly, your chest colliding with his, his lips smashing against yours. 

The kiss was full of love. You knew what Miguel felt without him even uttering a word. You placed your hands on his chest, deepening the kiss. You didn’t want to let go, you wanted to stay right there. Safe in his arms. 

Miguel pulled back, reluctantly, resting his forehead against yours. For a moment, all that was heard was your and Miguel’s breathing. He was warm and cozy, making you sleepy. He pecked your forehead again, before giving you a hug, placing your head in his chest, where his heart rested. One of his hands was cradling the back of your head, while the other rubbed your back. You wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“I love you, you know that right?” He broke the silence.

You hummed, your eyes closed, enjoying the even thump of Miguel’s beating heart. 

Miguel chuckled, making you groan as his body shook. He stepped back, escaping from your embrace. You were about to protest at the loss of contact, until you felt him grab your sides. You opened your eyes, seeing Miguel on his knees in front of you. He was looking up at you, eyes full of love and warmth. 

His face broke in a smile, showing the wrinkles around his eyes that you love. Miguel kissed your stomach over your shirt, still looking at you, and placed his chin there. He engulfed you in an embrace again. 

“Vamos a ser papás.”

You smiled, tears forming in your eyes again. “Yeah we are.” you brushed his hair out of his face, running your hands through his curls. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he said. He looked at your stomach and whispered. “And I love you too, mi amorcito.” He kissed your belly again, before resting his cheek against it, slumping against you. “I’m sorry I took so long to answer. I was just– processing what it meant.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, running your hands through his hair. 

“I’m a father again.”

“Yes you are” you smiled down at him.

“Los amo”

“We love you.”

You don’t know how long you spent like that. Miguel sitting on the floor, resting on your stomach while you ran your fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. But you wouldn’t change it for anything.

✧ : ̗̀➛𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ✧ : ̗̀➛ 𝙖𝙤3

✧ : ̗̀➛ 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1 ✧ : ̗̀➛ 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 2

𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆!!! 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔. 𝑰 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕!.

𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑰 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 (𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆). 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅!𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒖𝒑, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘!!! 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏. 𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 🥺🥺. 𝑴𝒚 𝒐𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒆.

𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ.

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒, 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑏 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙!! 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒, 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛.

Jess smirked, “So, what was it? Do you need to rest or do you sneak someone here when we aren’t watching?” “I don’t know what you are talking a–” Miguel began answering as he turned around, but he was cut short when he looked at what Jess had at her feet. Miguel cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, really. Just some things that remind me of… Gabi! Yes, Gabi!” Miguel finished his sentence and turned around quickly, hiding his expression from her. “Mmm, okay. Let’s pretend I believe you. Just, maybe keep this under the desk if you don’t want people to find out.” She stated, gently pushing the box under Miguel’s desk with her foot. 

“I’m happy for you, you know?” She said, as she was about to leave the office. “There’s nothing to be happy about.” Miguel answered. “There sure isn’t”. And so, Jess left the office with a hint of someone making its way to Miguel’s cold heart.

Peter B was carrying Mayday, as usual. It didn’t matter how many times Miguel had asked him to leave her out of this. He wouldn’t get it. He needed to take care of his little girl. (Author note: do I resent Peter B a little for shoving Mayday down Miguel’s throat when HE WAS FUCKING THERE, when Mig lost Gabby? A little)

He swung into the office like it was his. “Miguel! My man. How are you doing?” “Peter,” Miguel growled. “How’s everything going?” Peter asked, looking around the office. “Oh sweet! You got a couch!” He swung towards it and slumped against it. “This is nice. Good decoration, I always said this office needed more things. It’s always so… dark.” “That’s not–” “Do you even use it? Why is it here?” “Yes! I use it.” Miguel stated, cold as usual. “I can barely fit in.” Peter answered, laying down on the couch, stretching as far as he could with Mayday on his chest. “How do you?” he asked. “I sit.” “Fair”

Weeks later, when Peter B. entered the lab again, a new couch was sitting there. “Oh now you can fit in here. Useful for power naps” “I don’t do power naps” “Then, why change the couch?” “Not your business” “Jeez, okay… Mayday no!”

Mayday had jumped from her father’s arms and swung onto Miguel’s platform. She had stuck on the side of it, and curiously began opening drawers. 

Before Miguel or Peter could stop her, she pulled out a chocolate bar from the top drawer. “Mayday, give me that!” Peter B. caught up to her and took her in his arms, snatching the bar out of her baby grip. “You can’t eat this–” he took a peek into Miguel’s drawer and saw all the other snacks laying around. “Woo, what’s all this?” Miguel didn’t answer, he just closed the drawer fast and continued with his work. 

Mayday was strangely looking up, giggling to herself and waving. Peter B. tried to follow her gaze, but nothing caught his eye. 

Little did they know, there was another Spider looking from above. 

Miguel’s POV

The things began appearing not because you took them to his space, but because Miguel ✧cared✧. 

He noticed how you liked sitting on his desk while visiting. At first, he thought it was because of the lack of another chair, so he got one. 

Despite the new sitting arrangement, the desk was still your preferred spot. You even fell asleep there sometimes. Given the new information, Miguel decided to keep the chair, but he wanted to surprise you. So before your usual (not scheduled, but he remembered when you liked to pop up) time of arrival, he placed the cushion on your regular spot. 

Later, Miguel’s heart couldn’t help but clench seeing your sleepy form. He didn’t know if you were actually cold or you just liked sleeping like that. But seeing you sleeping form curling on your self made him want to hug you and never let you go. So, one day the blanket appeared. You didn’t really need it, but once you were asleep, Miguel would always drape it over you. 

How could you sleep on the table? It was horrible. Miguel couldn’t quite understand. That, plus some thoughts he shouldn’t be having –like when you were asleep, he had an itch to caress your face with his hand, cup your cheek and give you a little kiss. Just a quick little peck in your forehead, puffed cheeks, nose, lips…– Anyway!

Clearly, your proximity was driving him insane. Thus, with the excuse or reason (to convince himself) of getting you more comfortable (and out of his space, even if deep down, he really didn’t care), the couch appeared. 

At first, you refused to take it, no matter how Miguel practically begged you to use it. He needed you to. He was losing his self control. Your scent linger everywhere, despite the fact you had left hours prior. Your voice calmed him down, something he thought was impossible. And, worse of it all, your rhythmic breathing when you were asleep lulled him to do the same. He wanted to curl beside you, pull you close and rest his eyes and mind for hours. Just with you by his side. 

Miguel knew you were probably better off without him. But, he was selfish. Thus, he was going to step back a little, but not let you go entirely. The discussion continued for probably half an hour, until Miguel gave in and you won. How could you not? Miguel folds like a fucking lawn chair just looking at your eyes and I’ll defend this with my life. 

So, he ends up letting you fall asleep at your usual spot, before carrying you bridal style to the couch. Lyla teased him about it, but he brushed it off. He was pushing his feelings down, scared of them bursting out every time you were near him. The folder Lyla created with pictures she took of both of you didn’t help. Miguel had stumbled upon it by mistake, and he would love to say he deleted it or ignored it. But, that wasn’t the case…

After a while… you realised what Miguel was doing. So, you began pretending to fall asleep on the table, and then, when he began carrying you to the couch, you would use what Miguel calls your power of persuasion, to make him lay there with you. He resisted at first, he really did. 

Though, one evening, you were really sleepy. Your eyes closed from time to time, but you didn’t want to fall asleep, Miguel could tell. He whispered to you that it was okay, that you could sleep. But, you answered that you wanted to be close to him, that you knew that once you were in the dream realm, he was going to take you to the couch. You pouted at him, telling him how the couch was cold without him. Miguel felt a sudden urge to tell you the real reason why he had to “push” you away, but he got scared. Luckily, you took the leap of faith. Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you, your lips smashing against his. Needless to say, that was the first day Miguel slept next to you. Uncomfortably, but warm to his heart. 

Obviously, you begging Miguel to sleep with you became a habit. Miguel didn’t always give in (his heart wanted to, but his brain was telling him that the multiverse needed his attention). But, let’s say twice or thrice a week, Miguel would find himself beside you, laying on the couch. Your head in his chest, his cheek resting on top of it, while he played with your hair. Because of this, the second, bigger, couch appeared. 

Lastly, you began spending more and more time with Miguel. That meant, you became hungry and thirsty as hours went by. Miguel knew how much you hated going to the cafeteria, lots of people, waaay too many. So, that’s how the snack drawer came to be. He learnt what your favourite foods, snacks and drinks were, and kept them on easy access, where you didn’t need to leave the comfort of his office. For your benefit, and for his. 

THE END

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