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voidhope · 1 year

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The Other Woman

(Part 2 FINALE)

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Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.

Link to Part 1

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?

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A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~

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You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.

Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…

He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.

Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.

He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.

There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.

Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.

He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.

When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.

Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.

The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?

He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.

Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.

Right?

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The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.

You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?

Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.

“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.

There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.

She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.

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You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.

“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.

Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.

“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.

You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.

You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.

—

Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.

The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.

“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.

You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.

It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.

You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.

After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.

What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.

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Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.

Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.

You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.

He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.

Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.

He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.

Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.

Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.

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“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.

“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.

“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.

“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.

“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.

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You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.

Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.

“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.

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Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.

“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”

“I already sent people.”

“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.

“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.

“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.

“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.

“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.

“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.

He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.

His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.

Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.

Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.

“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.

“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.

He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.

“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.

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Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.

The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.

The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.

Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.

At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.

Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.

You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.

“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.

You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.

Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.

“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”

You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”

Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?

Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.

“We can’t do this Miguel.”

He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.

“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.

“Good, she deserved better.”

“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.

“Please stay here.” He whispered.

Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.

“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”

It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.

“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.

Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…

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The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!

i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.

So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!

If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!

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waitimcomingtoo · 10 days

Text

Uranus

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!Reader

Synopsis: you fix Peters science project while he’s out on a date with another girl

Masterlist

You walked by Peter’s room and paused in the doorway. The empty bedroom reminded you of where he was tonight and it send a sick feeling down to your stomach. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air as you looked at all the discarded outfits he had left on his bed.

“I’m not cleaning his stupid room.” You decided and walked away. You were barely halfway down the hallway when you turned and sprinted back to his room to start to put things away. You knew it wasn’t your job to take care of him but you simply couldn’t stop yourself from tidying up. You assumed he’d be getting back late from where he was and probably wouldn’t want to clean up all his clothes just to get into his bed. As you folded a pair of his jeans, you looked up into his vanity mirror and sighed.

“You’re so pathetic.” You told yourself through a groan.

“Stop talking to yourself.” Your reflection replied and pointed at you with a scathing finger. You jumped and looked down to see your finger was pointed as well.

“Right.” You mumbled and left his room.

You then went into the living room and saw Peter’s science project sitting on the couch. He had been building a model of the solar system for weeks now for his astronomy class with a little help from you here and there. All you did was hold pieces together after he glued them but he still insisted that he could not have done it without you. You smiled at the memory of the two of you working on it together and picked it up.

“Why would he leave it where someone could sit on it?” You sighed and moved it to the bar counter in the kitchen. You left the living room to use the bathroom just as Thor was entering the room. He stepped onto a bar stool with ease and took a seat on the counter to eat the apple he had taken from a lunchbox labeled “Sam’s: do not touch”. He munched his apple for a moment before feeling something digging into his back. He sat up a little and pulled a small ball out from under him that was painted to look like Mercury.

“Hm. Thats strange. I don’t remember putting that up there.” Thor frowned as he rolled the planet between his fingers. You walked back into the living room and smiled at Thor until you saw what he was holding. Your heart stopped at the same time your feet did and you let out a dramatic gasp that sent you into a coughing fit.

“Thor!” You exclaimed. “You just destroyed Peter’s science project!”

“These tiny colorful balls were his science project? What was it on? Tiny colorful balls?” Thor asked as he stood up to look at the science project he had completed crushed.

“No. It was a model of the solar system. And you just crushed it. How did you not feel that when you sat down?” You whined as more parts of the project fell from Thors jeans and back into the counter.

“Lady Y/n, you must be mistaken. I’ve seen the solar system with my own eyes. And then I had my eye cut out. And then I had my eye replaced and saw the solar system again. Peters little balls looked nothing like it.” Thor told you, making you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and stamp your feet like a little kid.

“I don’t care about your optic history.” You groaned. “Peter’s been working on it for weeks and your giant butt just crushed it in seconds.”

“Thank you. I eat a lot of yams to get these yams.” Thor smiled at the presumed compliment and patted his thigh. You watched him for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

“Okay.” You was all you could stay in your effort to remain calm.

“I don’t see what all the petulance is about. If he formed one solar system out of tiny colorful balls, surely he can do it again. All the pieces are right here.” Thor pointed out.

“Yes, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you ruined the project he spent weeks working on. He’s gonna be devastated when he sees this. And who taught you the word “petulance”? Have you been watching The Twilight Zone again? I don’t know why you do that. It always scares you.”

“Never you mind.” He wagged a finger. “I do feel bad for the boy. I’ll collect the tiny balls since it was my behind that crushed them and then Peter can glue them back together.”

“He can’t. It’s due tomorrow and right now he’s on…I don’t know. He’s just busy and he can’t fix it tonight.” You sighed and started to collect the scattered pieces of the project.

“Busy doing what? You’re here and his small balls were finished. What else could the boy be doing?” Thor wondered. You paused for a moment and felt that sick feeling in your stomach again.

“He’s on a date.” You said for the first time out loud since Peter told you his plans for the evening. You’d been quietly stewing all day over it and letting it settle in a massive dark cloud over your head.

“Well I’m sure the man he’s with will be understanding that he has to come home to fix his balls.” Thor told you.

“Stop saying balls!” You scolded. “And the date is with a girl, for your information. A very pretty girl from our business class who smells like a vanilla and my broken dreams.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lady Y/n. I never knew why but I know that small boy means a lot to you.” Thor said sympathetically and put his hand on your shoulder. You gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand.

“Seems like a lot of things are broken tonight.” Thor continued. “Your dreams, Peters balls-“

“Say balls one more time.” You said through clenched teeth.

“Or what? You’ll stab me?” Thor challenged you.

“What? No. Jesus Christ. Who hurt you?” You mumbled and pushed his hand off your shoulder.

“My brother. And then he hurt me again. And then my sister hurt me. And then my brother once more before he died before my eyes. Enough about me, why are your dreams broken?”

“It’s complicated.” You sighed. “Can I tell you something personal?”.

“No.” Thor replied and left the room without another word. You shrugged in defeat and wondered why you even bothered.

“Well that was a fine howdy do.” You mumbled and finished collecting the pieces. You laid out all the broken bits of Peter’s project on the kitchen counter and folded your arms. It would be a lot of work for Peter and you had no idea what hour he’d be getting back. As much as you hated the idea of him being on a date, you more so hated the thought of him coming home happy and his smile falling when he saw what had become of all his hard work.

“I need to fix these balls.” You whispered to yourself. You grabbed Saturn and one it’s broken rings and started to see how you could glue them back together.

“No. I can’t do this.” You said out loud. “I can’t fix every little thing in Peter’s life just to make him happy. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not the one he asked on a date. I’m just a friend.”

You put the pieces down and folded your arms to keep your hands off it. You knew you should walk away, but you couldn’t stop thinking about all the nights you walked past his room and saw him working on the project. He’d put so much effort into it and now it was in pieces on the counter.

“A girlfriend would spend the next few hours working on a project that has no impact on me just to save Peter the trouble. A good friend would feel bad that his work got destroyed and offer condolences when he got home. And I’m a good friend. Not a girlfriend. It’s not my problem. So I’m walking away.” You decided and left the room. You lasted all of three minutes before you ran back into the room with a tube of crazy glue.

“I gotta fix the balls.” You exclaimed and plopped yourself down at the table. Once you organized all the planets and parts of the solar system, you went to Peter’s room to get the sketched out drawing he had made of the project to use as a blueprint. You silently thanked Peter for being so meticulous and followed his sketch to rebuild his project.

Time went by slowly but your hands cramped up quickly as you worked on the model. It was around the time you glued on Saturns 30th moon, you understood why it took Peter so long to complete the project. All the moons and planets looked the same to you so you had to carefully study his drawings and rely on your memory of when you helped him with the project to guide you as you worked. You had to stop every so often to rub your eyes and roll out your wrists to keep them from getting stiff.

You drifted off into sleep at some point when staring at Jupiters moons became a little too mind numbingly boring. Peter got back from his date about midnight and strolled past you on his way to his room. He backtracked when he realized you were asleep at the table and frowned. His completed science project was beside you, save for one missing moon next to Jupiter. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the sight so he gently shook you awake.

“Hey. You awake?” He asked in a soft tone as he shook your shoulders. You shot up immediately and nearly knocked your head into his.

“I’m not snoring.” You blurted as you pulled the hair that was stuck to your cheek away.

“I know.” He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Why is Ganymede stuck to your face?”

“Why is what?” You asked through a yawn. Peter smiled and pulled the missing moon off your cheek and held it out to show you.

“Ganymede. The largest moon in the solar system.” He told you and put it in its correct spot on the model.

“There is no way you saw a random gray ball stuck to my face and correctly identified it as Gammy meme.” You insisted.

“Ganymede.” He corrected. “And I only know because I labeled them. See?”

Peter pulled the moon back off to show you a tiny G written on the bottom with the word “Jupiter” in parentheses beside it.

“They’re labeled?” You nearly shouted. “Well that would’ve been helpful four hours ago.”

“Four hours? That’s how long you’ve been here? What happened?” Peter frowned and took a seat beside you. You gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the model.

“I’m sorry, Peter. Thor sat on your project by accident.” You admitted. “I’ve been putting it back together ever since. I think I got most of it the way you had it but I never found Pluto. I honestly think it went up his ass and he just didn’t realize.”

“You spent four hours fixing my project?” He asked with a surprised smile.

“Of course I did. I know how hard you worked on this. I didn’t want you to have to start all over.” You told him. He gave you a fond smile and placed his hand on top of yours. Your eyes flicked to your hands and you gulped but said nothing.

“I really appreciate this but you really didn’t have to do this. You should have called me. I could’ve come home and fixed it myself.”

“But I knew you were really excited about tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” You said without looking at him.

“Well that was very selfless of you. And I hate to tell you this after all the work you did, but the date was bad. I would’ve loved an excuse to leave.” He admitted, making you smile involuntarily.

“It was bad?” You asked and quickly cleared your throat to cover up your smile.

“Woah. Don’t sound too happy.” He snorted.

“What?” You asked in a high pitched voice. “I’m not. Why would that make me happy? But please elaborate anyway.”

“It was bad.” He grimaced. “Like, season 6 of Glee level bad.”

“That bad?” You gasped. “So many forgettable characters. So many odd couple choices.”

“They sang Let it Go. They worked Let it Go from Frozen into the plot and made them sing it.” Peter shook his head.

“That was not the worst for me. The worst was when Mr. Shue rapped Same Love. They let the straight adult rap a song about being gay when the entire cast of queer young people were right there. And wasn’t there a child in the club for some reason? And twins who were lowkey dating?”

“Yep. All of that. And yet, my date was still worse.” He shrugged. You looked down at your lap and smiled a little before quickly dropping it.

“It was that bad, huh?” You asked and tried not to sound too interested.

“So bad.” He sighed. “She was a great girl, don’t get me wrong. We just had no connection whatsoever. She didn’t laugh at any of my jokes and then there were a few times where I thought she was joking so I laughed but she didn’t and then we sat in awkward silence.”

“That’s the worst. I hate awkward silence. I once pretended to forgot the word for “seatbelt” just to keep a conversation going with an uber driver. I kept calling it a strap on.”

“Wait, is that not what a strap on is?” Peter played dumb. “Should we Google it to make sure?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “Keep going. I want to hear more about this awful date with the girl you’ll never see again.”

“There was just no spark. We realized pretty quickly that we didn’t have anything in common. At one point, she asked me if Star Wars was the “movie with the things you can’t feed after midnight”. So I don’t foresee a second date.”

“Wow. She had to have a serious lack of knowledge about two major huge pop culture movies to ask that question.”

“I know. I told her yes and she believed me.” Peter replied, making you laugh. He laughed as well over how ridiculous the whole night had been before stopping to look at you. When your laughter died down and you realized he was staring at you, you smiled shyly and looked over at the project to avoid eye contact.

“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” You told him. “Maybe the next girl will understand you more.”

“Yeah. I hope so.” He said in a soft voice and never stopped looking at you.

“You’ll have better luck next time. To be honest, I thought the date was doomed as soon as you told me you were going for sushi. You hate raw fish.”

“Because I’m not a seagull.”

“Because you’re not a seagull, yeah.” You laughed. “I think of that every time I eat sushi. I’m no better than those damn seagulls.”

“Don’t say that. You’re way better. A seagull would not have done all this for me.” Peter insisted and gestured to the project. You looked over at the solar system you had given too many hours of your life too and smiled as you realized something.

“I had to fix it. I didn’t want you to be stressed.”

“But didn’t this stress you out? Designing this thing gave me gray hair and premature menopause.” Peter replied, making you laugh softly.

“A little.” You admitted. “But I felt better when I remembered why I was doing it.”

“Why were you doing it?”

“Because I’d do anything for you, Peter.” You said simply. You watched his ears turn pink and he turned his head so that you wouldn’t see his smile.

“I’d do anything for you too, you know.” He said in a quiet voice.

“Careful.” You warned him. “You already owe me big time for fixing this unnecessarily detailed solar system. If you tell me you’d do anything for me, you’re really at my mercy.”

“Uh oh. Sounds dangerous.” He laughed softly. You shared another moment of eye contact and smiled softly at each other.

“It’s late. We should probably get to bed.” You suggested.

“You’re right. Thank you again for this.” Peter said and picked up the project. You didn’t know if you were sleep deprived or delirious from working on the project all night but you felt compelled to share every secret you had with Peter.

“Honestly, Peter, I was happy to do this stupid science project because it kept me from thinking about you on your date.” You told him as you got up and rubbed your tired eyes.

“Really? Why didn’t you want to think about that?”

“Because whenever I did think about you on your date, I wanted to throw up.” You admitted. “And then rip out my hair. And then eat my hair and throw it back up. And then kill my self or something.”

“Well,” Peter said slowly, “I see your urge to rip your hair out and raise you the fact that I only said yes to this date because she wears the same perfume as you. And I needed a night off from staring at the ceiling and thinking about what would happen if I just told you how I felt.”

You stopped mid yawn and gave him a confused look. His eyes were darting everywhere except for your eyes and you could see the rosy glow on his cheeks even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Oh? And how do you feel?” You wondered and crossed your arms. Peter gulped before sitting up straight in his chair.

“I don’t know. Why did me being on a date make you so upset?” He challenged you. You narrowed your eyes at him and he looked nervous but didn’t back down.

“I asked you first.” You shrugged.

“Well I asked you second.” He replied. “And as Aristotle or whoever once said, first is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest.”

“Ew, what?” You grimaced. “It’s treasure chest. Third is the one with the treasure chest.”

“That makes no sense. Why would a person in third place, the very last place, be rewarded with a treasure chest? They’re the loser so they get a hairy chest. Now that’s sensical.”

“No it’s not.” You scoffed. “It makes even less sense. If I come in third place, does that mean my chest will grow hair? Or does it mean I will be given a torso with a hairy chest? Or, hear me out, does it imply that my chest is already hairy. And that’s why I came in third.”

“You did what in third?” Peter mumbled.

“Shut up. Can we get back to what we were talking about?”

“You’re right. We should go to sleep.” Peter said and tried to walk past you. You placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place and he gulped.

“Hold up.” You told him. “I’m cashing in that favor you owe me right now. We gotta talk. Sit back down.”

“I’m sat.” Peter said quietly and sat back down in his seat. You pulled your chair up to be across from him and sat down as well.

“I’m going to ask you again and I don’t want to hear another single reference to chests or placement.” You prefaced. “How do you feel?”

Peter scratched the back of his head to spare some time because he knew he was caught. He suddenly got a shy smile on his face suddenly and looked over at his project.

“Can I show you something?” He asked you as he pulled the sun off the center of the project.

“Dude.” You sighed. “I just glued that.”

“I know. And I’ll fix it. But look.” He said and turned the sun over. You looked at him in confusion and leaned forward to see what he was talking about. On the bottom of the sun in Peter’s hand writing were your first and last initials.

“My initials? Why? You smiled in surprise and looked up at him.

“Because the solar system revolves around the sun.” He explained. “But my solar system revolves around you.”

You stayed quiet as he put the sun back on the model and took your hand. A look of skepticism stayed on your face as he looked into your eyes.

“I know I do a good job of hiding it. But there is a piece of you in everything I do.” He said. “There always has been. This was just one of my more obvious ones.”

“Wow.” You said after a beat. “I really should’ve looked at the bottom of these.”

“Yeah. You should’ve.” He laughed and leaned in a little.

“Yeah. I should’ve.” You cracked a smile and leaned in as well. You stared into big brown eyes for a second and decided this was the last night you and Peter were just friends.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Is it about the solar system?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you kiss her tonight?”

“I don’t know. Ask me that question again one minute from now.” Peter said as he closed the gap between you and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer since you’d been waiting for this for a while. And it was everything you imagined it would be. When the kiss started to heat up, Peter slipped an arm around you and picked you up with ease. He hastily placed you down on the counter and you jumped apart when you heard a crunching sound.

You pulled out of the kiss and looked down to see that Peter had placed you directly on top of the science project that you had just spent hours fixing. You both stared at the scattered pieces in stunned silence for a moment before he gave you a sheepish smile. You didn’t smile back and instead stared daggers at him while trying to explode his head using your mind.

“I can fix it?” He said through a nervous laugh. You held your hands up in defeat and hopped off the counter without a word.

“What? That’s how this night ends? Come on.” Peter whined and followed you as you left the room and continued your silent treatment towards him.

“You’re seriously going to walk away after that? We had something going there. Don’t go now.” He whined some more and trotted after you like a puppy.

“Go get something going with the planets I spent the last four hours glueing back together.” You grumbled and held up your middle finger for him to see as he trailed after you.

“Come on.” He half laughed, half groaned. “You can’t send me to bed after a kiss like that. We need to at least talk about it. Let’s go back and…” Peter trailed off when you passed his bedroom and he caught a glimpse of his clean floor.

“Wait, did you clean my room too?” He asked, knowing he had left it a mess before he left for the date. You froze in your tracks for a moment but decided to keep the upper hand instead of admitting to Peter that you were so down bad that you had in fact cleaned his room.

“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Peter. Goodnight.” You said and slammed your door in his face. He barely had time to react before you opened your door back up and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“Get your ass in here, loser.”

“Don’t you mean get your anus in here? Because it sounds like Uranus?” He said with a proud smile. You stared him dead in the eyes and didn’t crack even a hint of smile.

“Do you want to come in here or not?”

“I already unzipped my pants, yeah.” He admitted as he dashed through your bedroom door.

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moonlesslights · 1 year

Text

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #peter b parker

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thatboisus · 1 month

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me logging onto tumblr after consuming a new piece of media

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sacharinee · 1 year

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pairing: bf!peter x reader

synopsis: peter likes having you close to him. all the time

wc: 630 ish

a/n: surprise! another one oops. im rlly bored can u tell? cuddling prompt with peter. reader is a cheeky and annoying lil shit. one office reference. i saw a tiktok about this a long time ago and thought this would be a cute idea to write about. also does anyone know how cuddling works tho?? if ur laying on ur side, do u just lay on top of the arm ur crushing on? under a pillow? idk lol. anyways i hope u like :D

there's an ache settling in your right side that wakes you up from your sweet slumber. your head lays atop peter’s soft chest, his steady heartbeat against your ears. it was what lulled you to sleep in the first place. but with peter’s body practically being your own personal heater, the warm air filling the room, and the prominent soreness resting on your side, you began to feel uncomfortable.

“pete,” you whisper.

peter is entirely unfazed. his hold on you is strong. his face is towards you, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest of snores and drool out the corner of his mouth. although you love your cuddles with peter, you think he could actually suffocate you in your sleep. the boy loved to sleep, especially on top of you.

your limbs are tangled together. your left leg slung around his waist, arms around his torso, while his buff arms embrace your shoulders protectively.

ever so slightly, you begin to move your leg, retreating it back to your side as you push against his body and establish a more comfortable position. you snuggle further into peter as sleep wins you over once again.

it only lasts for a second when you wake from your boyfriend’s murmurs, he seems to talk in his sleep when he whispers your name. he huffs loudly and smacks his lips a couple of times with his brows furrowed. you feel his warm hand reach for the back of your knee to bring it over his crotch.

a confused look paints your face as you gaze up toward him. he’s asleep as dead. did he really just do that? you almost laugh out loud. his quirky behavior never fails to amuse you and has your stomach going in flips. he just wants you close to him. :(

but you think you’re funny, so you test out that theory one more time, this time blatantly stripping your leg away from him.

this gets a reaction out of peter. he seems to wake when he gusts an impatient breath, “no” and grabs your knee again, forcefully holding it against him.

in disbelief, you’re unable to contain your burst of laughter as you hold yourself up with one arm and stare at him wide-eyed, “what is wrong with you?”

“ph’shhh” peter knits his brows together, his eyes shut tight with a cute pout, as he blindly brings a hand to your face and gently shoves your head back against your pillow.

“peter-” “shut up.” he feels you lick the palm of his hand, “yuck,” but he doesn’t care to move it away from you. it’s only when you swat his hand away and settle back down against him to give him peace of mind. only for a moment, though. you have fun annoying peter, almost like a hobby. he’s halfway asleep when he feels you aggressively snatch your leg away from his hold.

“y/n!” peter groans, “stop it.” this time, your boyfriend pushes you on top of him, your entire body weight lays over his while he keeps a tight grasp on you, making sure to keep your leg over his waist and your head upon his chest.

his irritation riles you up, and you’re giggling through it all.

peter’s not having it though, not at all. he heaves another deep breath through his mouth, with the same grumpy look on his face, “why are you the way you are?”

you gasp, “me?!” “yes, you.”

not done yet, you flick his forehead, “you know, you’re so annoying sometimes, pete.”

he scoffs, “oh yea?”

“yea. a total pain in the-”

peter shoves his hand against your face and into his chest one last time, “ass.”

you decided you’ve had your fun but you’re too delighted to go back to sleep. too delighted to know that the boy you love and cherish always wants to be impossibly close to you all the time, conscious or not.

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parkerpeter24 · 9 months

Text

quiet temptations

pairing ➳ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

word count ➳ 2.3k

warnings ➳ SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. this contains depictions of fingering, oral (m recieving). fluff, peter being sweet but also horny-

summary ➳ you’re awfully quiet but peter can’t seem to take that.

“is everything alright?” peter mumbled as he laid beside you. your back was to him, his arm wrapped around you, “you’re not talking.”

the bed you were laying on was warm, a thin blanket over the sheets because you got extra cold during the winters and a quilt that covered you and peter both. your fingers danced against the wall adjacent to the bed, feeling the cold plaster contrasting peter’s own fingertips that danced on your waist, under your sweatshirt.

“you gonna talk?” he placed a kiss on your hair that was loosely tucked behind your ear, making it fall over your eyes. chuckling when he heard you groan and push the lock of hair back in its original place, “so.. no?”

you sighed softly.

“that’s alright.” peter responded, feeling as if he was just talking to himself now, “we don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”

the sound of your hum was accompanied by peter’s hand gliding under your sweatshirt and caressing your stomach. he was careful, as if you were made up of glass, watching out for any signs of refusal on your face but your features looked solemn, unchanging.

he sighed, not being able to hold in his concern, “alright, just nod if everything is okay…”

he waited for you and surely you did nod after a few seconds, making peter’s worries dissipate.

“what’s gotten you so quiet?” he tried to get you to talk, his fingers taking a detour from trailing upwards, making contact with the elastic hem of your sweatpants– which originally belonged to him, “‘cause one way or another, i’m gonna hear that pretty voice.”

you felt your face heat up but peter still didn’t notice any change in your expression. if he couldn’t see the blinking of your eyes and sense changing breathing pattern, he’d have assumed you were asleep.

“at least tell me you want this.” he mumbled into your neck, pressing his lips against your exposed skin.

“yeah.” you mumbled and peter wasted no time in sliding his hand under the fabric of your lower, arm holding your body against him. you let out a soft breath as his fingers travelled lower. his middle finger slid your panties to the side before making contact with the skin. he pressed soft kisses to your neck before his nimble finger delved into your folds.

a leg pressed between both of yours, parting your thighs as he nestled a warm hand against your sex.

you let out a soft sound, clutching onto the quilt. his finger sank deeper until he found the earliest bit of your arousal and pulled it out, wanting to spread the wetness everywhere.

his finger travelled up to your clit, circling around it and you bit your lip when he fucked it back into you, knuckle deep. he groaned softly, loving the way your muscles almost clenched his finger.

he repeated his actions a few more times until you couldn’t hold back the soft needy moans that he beyond waited to hear. you felt his teeth sink into the skin of your neck before he sucked that spot, soothing the sting from the bite.

you moaned when he curled his finger, trying to search for a spot that would make your sounds louder. his finger dipped into you inch by inch every time, showing he was in no hurry.

peter’s arm was strongly keeping you pressed against himself as you started to arch your back. he could tell you were getting needy but he wished to hear something from you– even though he was loving the musical moans you were letting out.

he pressed his ring finger into the mix, adding it when he pumped them into you the next time. his face pressed further into your hair when you tried to get away. he could tell you needed more– you were writhing, trying to grind your hips into his already hard cock– but he kept going at the slowest pace he could. one brush of his fingers against your most intimate spot and your lips parted in a loud gasp.

you tried to arch your back which only led to peter’s arm pressing harder against your abdomen. his lips were pressed together, letting out soft hums which accompanied each one of your moans as if encouraging you.

he pulled out both his fingers, fucking in again and then back out and in again until it became a faster rhythm. squelching sounds filled the mostly silent room as his leg parted yours even further.

peter rolled his fingers into you continuously, the heel of his palm nudging against your clit which had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “pete-” you gasped, “m-more.”

the desperation in your voice made peter grind into your ass. his fingers fucked you faster, holding your legs apart, curling them into you just right until you were jutting your hips, chasing your high.

“good girl.” peter mumbled, “keep it up, baby.”

his fingers moved continuously in and out of you. he could tell you were close with the way you clenched his fingers, however before the coil in your abdomen burst, his fingers pulled out of you, a soft wet sound following it– completely opposite to the loud whine that left your mouth.

“oh my god- why’d you stop?!”

“now you wanna talk?” he mumbled into your hair.

you felt your cheeks heating up further than they were. you hid your face into the pillow, but peter wasn’t letting that happen. he tugged at your chin with his free hand, “oh, baby. trust me, i want you to cum.”

you whined, biting your lip softly at his dirty words. you wondered if peter came prepared for this because no other day would you have expected such filthy words escaping his lips. he’d never done so before in all the times you two were intimate.

he turned you around gently, slowly pressing his forehead against yours as he brought up his fingers to his own lips, sucking them clean. he moaned at the taste as his tongue swirled around the digits, sending a wave of shivers up your spine and arousal to your core.

the second his fingers were released from between his soft, warm lips, your own pair replaced them, tasting remnants of yourself on his lips. you moaned softly, pressing your chest up against his.

“want you.” you breathed out heavily.

peter only shook his head, “not until you tell me what’s with the silence.”

“huh-” your brows pulled together in confusion, “you’re really not gonna-”

“first you tell me what happened.” he pecked your lips once, twice, and a few more times.

you sighed, pursing your lips as you tried to formulate what to say to him– or rather how.

when peter saw you struggle, opening your mouth and then closing it, he brushed a thumb against your cheek, “it’s okay, you should take your time.”

you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to your cheek as your eyes met. his chocolate brown eyes swam with what you could identify as pure adoration.

“until then…” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you.

soft at first, it escalated when he brushed his tongue past your lips, quickly finding yours in a slow yet passionate dance. peter pressed you against the mattress, handling the covers to stay over your bodies.

he wasted no time in moving his lips to your neck, hands going to hold your thighs apart as his thumb now brushed against your clothed thigh, kneading gently as his teeth nipped at your collarbone.

you gasped softly, letting him do as he pleased with you. as you held the back of his head with one hand, the soft, brunette sea of hair engulfed your fingers.

peter moved his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, wasting no time in sliding it up past your chest, careful enough that you weren’t exposed to the coldness of the room. he dived under the quilt, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, the other being knead in the palm of his fingers.

you gasped as peter’s tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, your stomach flush against his torso.

you could feel his lips curl into a smirk before he switched, rolling your sensitive left nipple between his slender fingers as he licked and pulled the right one in his mouth.

you were getting fidgety, squirming under peter as he felt your grip tighten on his locks, not enough to hurt. he moaned against your skin, placing a few kisses right under your breast, moving lower, now seeming in a hurry.

“pete-” you almost pleaded, finding your voice breathy.

his hands travelled under the pair of sweatpants, making quick work of sliding them down as he traced your thighs, down to your knees before you felt the material slide off you.

you lifted the quilt slightly, just wanting to get a glimpse of peter. the few rays of light that touched him weren’t fast enough to warn you as his lips pressed to the wet patch over your panties. you gasped and threw your head back.

you felt peter’s hot breath and the muffled sound of his moan from under the blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, diving deeper as his nose pressed against your clit, the fabric thick enough to make you grit your teeth, wanting his lips and tongue on you.

maybe peter heard the clenching of your teeth or the way that your hand found home in the tufts of his hair again but he was eagerly pushing down the material past your legs throwing it down to the floor.

you felt peter’s forearms lift your thighs as he shuffled closer to your core, licking up a bold stripe across your folds. your back arched but peter’s grip was keeping you against him.

for a moment you heard him groan as he retracted, “what’s wrong?” you breathed out, supporting yourself up on your elbows.

you almost laughed when his hand creeped out from under the quilt, holding his fogged up glasses out for you to take. with a chuckle, you held the frame between your fingers, quickly placing them to the bedside table.

as you laid your back against the bed, peter was quick to wrap his lips around your clit. you let out a moan as he licked and sucked on the bundle of nerves.

he held onto your thighs, keeping you firm against his lips as he explored the very intimate part of you. his tongue darted out, poking at your entrance, but not giving you enough time to notice that as he slid the muscle deeper against your walls.

you moaned, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle the lewdest sound you’ve ever made. the bridge of his nose poked against your clit and peter only pressed deeper as his tongue delved in and out of you. it seemed as if he would see no tomorrow if he stopped making out with your dripping hole.

you arched your back, “pete- oh god-”

you felt him hum against you, sending your jaw drop open as you finally felt the pleasure crash all over your body. your toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. you could swear this was the hardest you’d ever come before as goosebumps covered your arms.

you let out a sigh as peter helped you ride out your high, keeping up his ministrations. finally stopping, he placed a soft kiss over your clit, sending your body flinching at the action.

when peter climbed out from under the blanket, surely he looked like he needed to clean up. his chin dripping with your arousal and forehead all sweaty from being so long under the warm quilt.

“you need to wash your face.” you chuckled, brushing back a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead.

“and you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he mumbled and you sat up, adjusting your sweatshirt back down.

“it’s nothing-”

“and don’t you dare say it’s nothing.” he sat up as well, beside you, wiping mouth with the sleeve of his shirt– that thing was going in the washing machine the second this conversation was over.

“it’s… just… exams and stuff. you know how anxious i get.” you sighed.

“i know… but you don’t have to! there’s still a week left before-”

“okay, that may seem like a long time but trust me, it’s not.” you looked up at him, meeting the brown eyes that held concern, “i’m sorry, i… i was just overwhelmed. didn’t feel like talking.” you almost pouted, making peter pull you against his chest as he hugged you. you in turn wrapped your arms around his waist.

“trust me, i know how stressful exams can be. but it’s nothing you haven’t been through before.” he placed a soft kiss against your hair, making you hug him even tighter, “you got this, beautiful.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah. easy for you to say.”

he chuckled, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re like, i don’t know, the smartest guy of our whole generation.” you mumbled against his shoulder.

peter shrugged at that comment, “hey, even i watch youtube videos for help sometimes.”

“yeah, but you grasp every concept so quickly, like you don’t even have to try.” you looked up at him, blinking when you realised how that must have sounded, “...that was supposed to be a compliment.”

“you’re adorable.” peter chuckled, “how about we study together? i’ll make a time table; and don’t worry, it’s not going to be super chaotic, just a simple time table; and we can figure it out together. how’s that sound?”

you smiled at him, feeling your heart swell at the amount of his care, “sounds perfect.”

his smile mirrored yours, “thanks for telling me.”

you gave him a grin.

“now since i told you, can we fuc-”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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