#peter b parker fluff

[murdrdocs]

feeling sappy thinking abt baking with the spider-men 😞

baking with MILES is always a bit of a mess. he'd enlisted your help for an apology dessert for his parents, but it doesn't go as planned. you were lacking the supplies, and miles ran into a "villain of the week" on his egg run, and the cookies come out a little flat and dry but mr and mrs morales (you make a point of using the formalities) adore them anyway.

baking with MIGUEL is a means of cheering you both up. he's exhausted, you're feeling lonely, you both crave time with the other, so you're in the kitchen using the hand mixer for authenticity to create an elaborate cake. you watch his concentration, admiring his hard set lines and the way his tongue peeks out between his lips as he does some incredible piping work. and then of course, you enjoy the treat on the couch with an ancient rom-com and ice cream to pair.

baking with PETER is romantic. or, it's supposed to be. you're wearing matching aprons, listening to 50s swing music, working together to create a batch of brownies. there's giggles and kissing between measurements and hands on waists and shoulders and hips. there's mixing breaks to slow dance to glen miller or cleaning breaks to sing along to frank sinatra. and you get distracted with the way you're so in love with each other that the brownies burn just a little. but the middle is fine and peter truly isn't a picky eater.

baking with HOBIE is a regular occurrence. he has a sweet tooth, you like to try out recipes that migrate towards you, and hobie's an excellent taste tester. he sits off to the side, measuring what you need him to, grabbing things from the top shelf, all the while admiring you from afar. there's nights when he comes home late, a little beaten and bruised, and you're kneading dough for blueberry cinnamon rolls. he's salivating instantly, both from the expected taste of the dessert, and from how pretty you look with a little flour on your cheeks, hair a little askew, and a soft song leaving your lips.

[aweina]

୨୧. he’s one silver fox — spiderverse. feat : miguel o’ hara + peter b. parker

when they feel insecure about their age. ( inspo ) tags gn + spidey reader. fluff. hurt / comfort. insecurities. implied age difference.

old age has gotten to peter in the worst ways possible. well, at least that’s what he thinks. persisting through a depressive episode because life sucked that badly wasn’t an easy feat, especially when they were shown through his physical appearance. a softer, bloated stomach, a permanent mark of exhaustion under his eyes, and greying roots that hair dye cannot even combat.

it’s especially worse when other people point out his aging. the first time miles called him ‘older’ and how his body was a ‘different shape’, peter didn’t really process it until he came back to his dimension and was welcomed with greasy pizza boxes and a broken bed frame.

and when it finally did, peter gazed down at the softness of his abdomen and poked it curiously. in the shower, he sheds off his mask as locks of grey and brown hair messily tickle his forehead. peter finally looked. softened wrinkles, a grey hue that showed his shaving efforts, sunken eyes — damn, he really was an old man.

but that was back then, and his darkened days became much more lighter. although his round eyes now gleamed with hope and the smile on his face was much more genuine, it wasn’t enough to make him feel confident in his own appearance. at least that’s how it was until he met you.

after encountering an aggressive anomaly, you hurriedly tended peter’s wounds at the recovery room located in the headquarters. that left peter under your care for the rest of the day, as well as your usual sweet nature.

“you know i like your hair, right?”

you petted the sides of peter’s head, the silky touch of grey hair making you smile.

peter shuffles a bit to the side, gently trying to pry your hands off his hair, only for you to scoot closer as you lightly brush off the stray strands off his face.

he sighs in defeat as he subtly gives into your touches, cursing at himself for enjoying this so much.

“kid, you know you don’t have to make me feel better.” peter mumbles shyly when you began to caress his scruffy cheeks with your thumbs.

“i’m telling the truth,” you whispered sweetly, inching closer until you straddled his thick torso. “i love everything about you.”

peter nervously gulps in response, cheeks dusted pink from your bluntness. he’s still a little shocked that someone much younger than him could even find him remotely attractive — considering the fact that he wasn’t at his prime. but you’ve always been quite different, ever since the day he met you when things were rough with his initial relationship.

starry eyed and obviously looking at him whenever peter came around. he remembered the subtle stares at his unshaven jawline, or that one time you furiously lectured the other spider-people that joked about his aging. peter couldn’t believe it, but he felt strangely confident in his own skin after so many years of believing he would never be lovable again.

“t-thanks kid,” peter nervously muttered into your ear, pulling your body closer into a warm hold. “for… liking me.”

you pouted at his response, your stomach fully pressed against his softer one.

“don’t ever be thankful for someone simply loving you.” you say with a comforting smile, nimbly fingers smoothing over his eye bags to the indented lines adorning his forehead.

the dangerous combination of your genuine affection and feathery touches made peter’s heart knock faster in his chest. how did he end up so lucky meeting you?

curiously, you tugged on the hem of his spider suit— skin clearly blotched with a flushed pink.

“wow, you’re blushing so much.” you teased with a huge grin.

peter timidly chuckled at his exposure, scratching the back of his head with one hand as the other one steadily grips your waist. for the first time, peter wasn’t equipped with his usual remarks and sarcasm — instead he was entirely unguarded and still dazed by your tenderness.

you giggled at his flustered expression until you squished his cheeks together — pink lips pursed out and slightly chapped.

“i’ll always love you peter,” you sweetly whispered against his lips. “always.”

before peter could properly work up the courage to respond to your confession, a surge of energy filled your heart as you peppered endless kisses on peter’s reddening face — the blend of your lighthearted giggles and his heartfelt chuckles filled the room.

peter never felt happier than he was with you around to make him feel loved again.

miguel could tell he was getting older. maybe it was the constant groggy feeling he would get from every waking moment of his life, or when he had to annoyingly dig around the messy drawers in his lab to get his reading glasses. aging wasn’t something he usually would think about, but these days it was getting to him.

the usual routine of looking through old pictures peaked his insecurities. it started when the orange hologram glowed against the deepened wrinkles around his mouth, playing the collage of memories. younger miguel was much more relaxed — hopeful glints in his eyes and his hair much more fuller with brown locks. there wasn’t his usual dullness on his skin or even the harsh lines that indicated skipping meals to focus on his new invention.

he would never admit it, but he was jealous of who he was before. much less exposed to the darkness of his mistakes and making the most of his ignorance. miguel would grimly stare into his younger self smiling until lyla would suddenly alert him of a loose anomaly causing a sudden disturbance — forcing him to turn off his screen and shake off the melancholic feelings.

the younger spider-people that roamed around the headquarters seemed to make his predicament worse. gwen, who he begrudgingly recruited, would tease him for not understanding how to use any other technology that’s not his own creation. hobie, the most unpredictable of them all, would quip about miguel’s horrible posture whilst he demonstrates his much more straighter stance.

usually, miguel would dryly laugh at their attempts to tick him off or scare them off with a lethal glare, but he felt troubled by his own age. was he that old? well, he took his physicality very seriously, so maybe it wasn’t enough? miguel heavily sighs from the throbbing pain around his temple, sulking back on his chair as he defensively dragged his calloused fingers along the silver strands of hair — reaching to the curve following his slouched neck.

“you seem stressed.”

the sudden sound of your voice immediately startled miguel, almost toppling off his desk chair. you smiled at his clumsiness while he quickly recovered with a feigned cough, a deep red settling on his cheeks.

you, you were far more different than gwen and hobie. much more reserved, never teasing him about his age like the other two. you were always there to compliment him and whenever you called his name, there was always something good out it. miguel had a soft spot for you, but he couldn’t quite understand why you had one for him.

“is it obvious?” there was no need to lie around you.

a worried look settled onto your face. immediately, you settled the aromatic coffee onto his work desk and shuffled beside his broad shoulders, peering down at the unusual tangled locks of miguel’s hair. with slight hesitance, you ran a quivering hand through his hair, combing the dark grey streak that complimented his red eyes.

miguel didn’t protest, instead he slowly leaned into your touch — the weight of his head pressed on your stomach.

“i’m not that old, am i?” miguel shamefully asked. he felt weirdly conscious about his sudden vulnerability, but especially more confused by your gentle hands nestled in his hair.

you sighed in annoyance, instantly thinking back on gwen’s and hobie’s snarky comments. “miguel, don’t listen to them. they’re just teasing you.”

miguel furrowed his brows a bit. no, there’s a lot more than just that.

“it’s not only that but…” it was his past, it was you. it was all eating him alive, these bitter thoughts — his envy towards his younger self, your bright presence that never wavered away from his darker one.

“don’t.” you cut off his conflicted silence, tracing over his hairline with a gentle hand. “i know you’ve been through a lot, and all that means that you’ve just changed overtime. it just happens, you know?”

he hummed at your words thoughtfully, a little flustered that someone much younger is lecturing him.

“and i like you just the way you are.” you delicately tilted his chin up, finally gazing down at his crimson eyes. “even when you’re always grumpy.”

miguel chuckles at your little quip with a rare smile. gawking at your cute grin and crinkled eyes, miguel couldn’t help but pull you into a soft kiss — in which you instantly melted into.

he finally understood you now — you were never afraid to love him unconditionally.

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[angelltheninth]

Peter B. Parker Proposing to You

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff., established relationship, marriage proposal, going on a date, power use, good boyfriend Peter B. Parker

A/N: I wasn't on Tumblr much when the first Spiderverse dropped so I'm very happy that a lot of people find this Peter so cool and attractive.

You'd never seen him more nervous than he was tonight

Swears up and down it's just from his latest patrol, nothing to do with you

Yet his endless walking on the ceiling and awkward chuckles, not to mention him constantly tugging on his jacket, are all signs that he's hiding something

Kisses you to ease your mind and his

Has a date planned, nothing big though because he doesn't want to give away the fact that he has a big question to ask

Tries to be casual as he carries you out of your shared home and balances you on his thighs while he climbs up high enough to where he can comfortably swing on his webs

Hid the food ahead of time so he can make a little sunset picnic for the two of you

Keeps glancing at you then taking a big bite of his food

Asks you where you would like to go if you were to go on a longer vacation with him, he doesn't tell you the vacation would be your honeymoon

Guarantees at least one of his fellow Spiders could protect his Earth while he's away

As he kisses you and pulls you onto his lap he forgets about the ring box in his pocket which prompts you to tease him and cause a misunderstanding about his intentions tonight

There will... probably be some of that too if this goes well but for now he wants to ask you something very important

It's a life or death question, okay it's not but for his heart it is

Doesn't want to push you off his lap so he has to maneuver a bit to dig the box out but you know what it is as soon as you see it

He planned to do this exactly when the sun went down but this is romantic too, the two of you overlooking the entirety of the city below

After a deep breath he finally asks you to marry him

His whole body is shaking, he's afraid of what would happen if you say no even though he knows his fear is a bit irrational, you've been together for years, this is the logical next step in your relationship

Thankfully he was right, you said yes

But in his happiness he accidentally threw the ring when he threw his hands up

It's a good thing he still has those quick reflexes

[hailey-murdock]

soft morning sex with peter b!!!

Need

Paring: Peter B Parker x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mature content mdni

WC: 1.K

A/N: sorry this took me a while, hope you enjoy, not proofread (Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated)

-Explicit content under the cut-

Many nights Peter would seek comfort and peace. Trying to calm down the thoughts that ran wildly fast in his head. Your body was like a sanctum where he would find that. You let him use your body for what he wanted, he needed you? Then you let yourself be used. 

It varied many times, it depended on what caused him to seek refuge inside of you or his head between your legs. Sometimes he just needed your warmth radiating onto his body. The sweet perfume of yours that always managed to ground him.

Peter wasn't a religious man. He didn't seem to care about the worship of a god. That was until he met you, and found the altar (your body) that he desperately wanted to worship, you were a goddess to him. 

He pushed you far beyond your limits—physically, sexually, emotionally, and certainly morally…and yet you both kept coming back for more.

Peter had acquired a purely animal longing for something so dark and disgusting that it was like a sexual hunger he couldn't ignore.

Tonight was certainly different after patrol Peter swung to your apartment to sleep with you and enjoy a good night's rest with you. Well actually it was dawn, the sunlight would soon be hitting your soft skin since you loved to have your curtains wide open

You always left the window unlocked for Peter, even though he had already told you many times before that it was unsafe for you to do that. 

Peter had even taught you a few moves for self defense, but those classes always ended up with Peter slamming his cock inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his release.

He would teach you a lesson on how to listen to him since it seemed like you couldn't do that. But Peter was extremely tired to do that. He locked the window once he got inside of your apartment.

It was relaxing for him to take off his suit and lay in bed with you. You woke up when in your dream you managed to feel the other side of your bed dip.

"P-Peter"? You say with a sleepy voice and trying to sit up straight to see if it was him. 

"Go back to sleep sweetie", Peter pulled the blanket over you again once you settled back in bed and hummed in agreement.

Your back was facing his chest, his arm draped lazily over your waist. To get more comfortable and closer to Peter you pushed your ass back to his crotch.

A soft groan left his lips, Peter hoped you didn't move more but secretly he wanted more. He could smell the smell of sex in your bedroom, obviously stating that you took care of yourself while he was gone. Your wetness dripped down your thighs while you slept.

You were half awake when you heard his groan and it made you want to do it more. Rubbing your ass against his now growing erection made your cunt even more wetter.

"S-sweetheart sto- mhm stop that", Peter only pulled you closer to his body. His hand ran down to your thigh playing with the hem of your silk nightgown.

"What if I don't want to"? Peter could hear the teasing tone in your voice, he wanted to fuck it out of you but his muscles ached after a long night fighting crime. You nodded your head to give him permission to slide his hand closer to where you most wanted it.

He pulls one of your legs on his waist to have better access to your warm cunt. You suck in your bottom lip as you imagine how you and Peter would look in the position you are.

The two of you on your sides, your legs spread wide apart, your right leg on his waist, his muscular arm in your inner thigh. A light sheet of sweat on both bodies, you with no panties, just your nightgown. Your cunt glistens with the bit of light hitting the bedroom. 

Peter dragged his fingers to your entrance and it made you shudder. You leaned into his touch seeking for more friction.

"What do you need, baby? Be a good girl and tell me" he wasn't only going to let you have your fun with teasing, karma can be a bitch.

Peter hadn't even pushed in his fingers or done anything and you were already drunk off of him. 

"Is my sweet girl already dumb? Can't even say a sentence and I haven't done anything yet. Come on, use your words".

You hummed in agreement to Peter's statement. "N-need you", your back arched which caused your ass to rub once again to his cock.

His eyes rolled back at the beautiful mixture of pain and pleasure. "What exactly do you need, sweetheart"?

"Cock, n-need your cock", your cheeks are a deep shade of red. You couldn't believe you just said that. You've never been so blunt at saying what you wanted.

"God, you sound so sexy, sweet girl". With that Peter shoved down his boxers and pulled over your head your nightgown. His hands run straight to your perked nipples, pinching them to earn a sweet moan from you.

"Peter please", your whines were louder the more Peter took his time with you. 

"Shhh, I know, I know what you need, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah"? 

Peter how and when to use his words. Boy, he was damn good with that mouth. He tapped your clit with the tip of his cock, spreading your and his arousal for lube even though he knew it wasn't needed.

He penetrated your hole and your tightness made it harder for him to be all the full way through. A gasp was what Peter heard in his ear as you moved your head back to kiss him passionately.

His thrusts were slow, sensual and deep, making your head spin. The kisses are full of love, desire, and kindness. This wasn't sex, no this was love. Peter was making love to you. The eye contact made it powerful. 

Hands intertwined, sweat all over your bodies. The soft "I love you" made your heart jump. The orgams screamed your love for one another. Heavy breathing, groans, and moans filled the bedroom. 

The afterglow were the moments you both treasured deeply. Your heartbeats calming down, the even breathing and the smiles on your faces were proof that just as much Peter saw you as his sanctum, he was yours as well.

[jeniuyn]

Could I request a Peter b Parker x wife!reader meeting miles for the first time?

HAPPY ENDING ✮ peter b parker x fem reader

a/n: for the sake of this fic, ur mayday's biological mom

“I mean what if he doesn’t like Mayday?!” Peter asked, franticly pacing back and forth in your shared living room.

You set Mayday down on the couch before packing a couple more diapers in her travel bag, “Peter relax, everyone likes Mayday.”

“Yeah but you know how Mayday is when she meets new people, she gets all fussy and that might not leave the best first impression!” Peter groaned.

You laughed at your husband’s antics, he had just gotten the call from Miguel about 30 minutes ago letting him know that Miles had arrived at headquarters. Peter was ecstatic, he couldn’t wait for Miles to finally meet you and Mayday, but his excitement soon turned into worry.

“I mean I haven’t seen this kid in a year! A lot can change in a year y’know, what if he doesn’t like me anymore?”

You walked over to Peter and attempted to reassure him with a kiss on the cheek, “Honey relax, of course, he still likes you. The kid looks up to you, you were his mentor for crying out loud.”

Peter sighed and wrapped his hands around your hips, pulling you closer to him, “You’re right, I don’t know why I’m stressing out about this. Miles is a good kid y’know… he's gonna be so happy when he finds out we got back together and even happier when he finds out we had a kid together.”

You hummed in agreement and in an attempt to stop your husband's rambling, pulled him into a deep kiss (in which he happily returned) that was soon interrupted by the beeping of Peter’s watch. Miguel’s voice interrupted the silence, “Parker what could you possibly be doing that is taking you this long to get to HQ?” Miguel grumbled.

“Making out with my hot wife,” Peter joked before leaning in for another kiss. Giggling, you playfully slapped his chest before returning his kiss. 

“You two are disgusting,” Miguel uttered before abruptly hanging up.

______________________________________________________________

When you three finally made it to HQ, Peter couldn’t stop rambling about Miles to you on the way to Miguel’s office.

“I’m telling you, honey, you’re gonna love him, I mean this kid is really something else,” Peter said when entering Miguel’s office, you and Mayday trailing a few steps behind him.

Miguel was in the middle of scolding Miles, “Miles do you understand what you being here means? It disrupts the-”

“Come on, Miguel go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher,” Peter interrupted.

“Oh look who finally decides to show up,” Miguel grumbled, rubbing his temple.

 “Peter I missed you, man!” Miles said rushing over to give Peter a hug.

After a minute or so, Miles finally took notice of you and Mayday a couple of feet behind Peter, “You have a baby now? And you convinced y/n to get back with you? Nice job man, I'm happy for you!” 

Peter chuckled, “Miles this is my wife y/n and this is my daughter Mayday,” Peter said with a hint of pride in his voice.

“I’m so happy to be finally meeting you Miles, Peter never shuts up about you,” Smiling you offered him your free hand to shake (you were holding Mayday with the other). Miles gladly shook your hand, shaking Mayday’s tiny hand as well.

“Say hi Mayday,” You cooed, Mayday babbled out what you all believed to be a hello, you all laughed and even earned a small smile from Miguel.

“So y/n, what did Peter do to win you back?” Miles asked curiously.

“Yeah, he never did tell me how you two got back together,” Gwen said, attempting to get Mayday from out of your hands.

You laughed as you recalled the memory, “Well Peter randomly showed up on my doorstep with flowers and practically begged me for a second chance,” You paused and handed Mayday to Gwen, “He said he couldn't live without me and was finally ready to have kids. You should've seen his face, I swear he was about to burst into tears he looked like a-”

“Woah Woah that’s not what happened,” Peter interjected, “From what I remember, you were the one who was full-on sobbing. I remember it so clearly, you were all, ‘Yes! Yes! Peter, I love you so much I would love to have your kids!’ He said mimicking your voice.

“I do not sound like that and that's not what I said!” You exclaimed, giving him a little shove. Peter chuckled before putting an arm around your waist, “Well either way it all worked out didn’t it? We’re now happily married and have Mayday.”

You hummed in agreement and Peter happily pulled you into a kiss, “I love you y/n,” He mumbled against your lips.

“Are they always this sappy?” Miles asked in a hushed voice to Gwen.

She nodded, “Yup you better start getting used to it if you wanna join spider society.”

“They’re kinda cute though, don’t you think? That could be us one day y’know,” Miles said smugly.

Gwern laughed, “You wish Miles.”

a/n: it turned into a gwen x miles fic at the end there LMAO, anyways pls request me guys 😖

[lqveharrington]

Teddy Bear | P.B.P.

pairing: dad!peter b. parker x mom!fem!reader

summary: after not seeing his wife and child for a while, Peter spends the whole day with them, making sure he shows his love and affection to them both.

contains: so much fluff, zero uses of Y/N, kisses, Mayday being cute, Peter being cute, Peter and reader having such a cute relationship together and with their daughter. if you see spelling mistakes, no you don’t.

wc: 3.3k+

a/n: i had to revise this so many times, also i love mayday parker sm, she is just so AGH adorable

————

Peter, your husband, had been away for a few days, promising to come home every day but never doing so. You knew it was due to Spider-man duties, so you never took it to heart. You spent the day with Mayday in New York City's downtown, stopping for lunch at a coffee shop.

Mayday abruptly whirled around in her chair, smiling and babbling over her ‘daddy.’ Peter stands by the door with flowers and a tiny teddy bear for you and Mayday when you glance up.

Of course, your child would inherit Peter’s spidey sense or better known as the Peter Tingle.

“Hey, Hun. I'm sorry it's been a tough week.” He says as he walks up to your table and smiles sheepishly.

You give him a small grin back, “It’s okay.” You plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Mayday has been as wonderful as always, haven't you, baby?”

Mayday smiles warmly and nods, while Peter sighs, sitting down in the booth next to you, placing the flowers and stuffed animal on the table.

“I’m really sorry about neglecting to call you. Work has been really stressful with the whole 'Spider-Man' stuff and it's been hard to catch my breath.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand, “It’s alright. Has Miguel been loading missions on you again?”

“It's not really Miguel…” Peter rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the table. You've known him long enough to detect the difference between his ‘white lie’ voice and ‘there is something more’ voice.

You nod reassuringly, knowing full well that he was hiding something.

“Well, you can tell me all about it later.” You rub his hand. “For now, have a minute with your daughter, Peter. It's been a while since you've seen her.”

Peter nods and turns to look at your adorable toddler. Her eyes sparkle as she excitedly looks up at her daddy. You lean across and kiss her forehead, before smiling and taking your small daughter out of the high chair, gently bouncing her on your lap. Mayday smiles and giggles, showing one of her new teeth to Peter.

“Daddy, look! See my tooth?”

“Yeah? That's awesome, kid!” Peter says, cooing at the toddler.

Mayday continues to giggle and smile as she turns to Peter, asking him to hold her.

You gently take her from your lap, placing her on Peter's knee. Before you can warn him, Mayday puts her hand in Peter's thick hair and gently tugs at one of his strands.

“Ouch. Mayday, sweetheart, don't pull on daddy's hair.” You gently grab her hand away from his hair.

Mayday pouts and leans her head onto Peter's shoulder, playing innocent. Peter sighs, gently petting Mayday's hair. She giggles again and smiles widely at him.

He turns and kisses her forehead, before turning back to you. “I missed both of you. Lots.”

“We missed you too, honey.” You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “And you little miss.” You change your attention to your baby. “Don't act all innocent now that Daddy is here.” You give her a playful attitude.

Mayday lets out a high-pitched giggle, before leaning a bit closer to Peter. She pokes her finger to his nose, before turning to you and grinning.

“I love daddy!” Mayday exclaims, looking back over at Peter with a bright smile.

She leans a small bit closer, rubbing her small foot against his leg.

“I love daddy too, sweet girl.” You boop her nose. “Let's finish eating and then you and Daddy can play at the park, yeah?”

Mayday nods and claps her small hands together, while Peter sighs, placing his head back on the booth, tired from the week of work.

“I might just fall asleep in the park.” He chuckles as you and Mayday laugh, leaning forward and kissing Peter's forehead. You and Mayday finish eating and pay for the food, before walking out of the cafe with Peter and heading toward the park.

You swung your hand that was interlocked with Peter, Mayday in her stroller. “How about a nap with her when you get home? I bet you she'll love it.”

Peter chuckles and sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Sounds like an ideal plan.” He smiles.

You see Mayday bouncing around in her stroller, looking at the passing birds and trees. She turns back to look at you and Peter, smiling warmly.

“Daddy! Look at the ducks!” Mayday squeals excitedly, pointing to the small pond nearby.

You nudge Peter out of his sleepy trance, “Babe, the ducks! Look at how cute they are!”

Peter looks over at the small pond and sees the ducks sitting in the center of it.

Mayday giggles and squeals, watching them. “Heyyy ducks.” She waves her small hand at them.

“Okay, sweetheart. Say bye-bye to the ducks, we’re right by the playground.” You wave to the animals.

Mayday waves to the ducks, before she turns to Peter and leans forward in her stroller. “Play, Daddy!” Mayday exclaims excitedly, reaching out her small hand for Peter.

“C'mon, Pete.” You sit on the bench near the playground. “Go play with our daughter.”

Peter rolls his eyes but gets up from the bench and walks over to Mayday, gently picking her up and setting her on the ground. She looks up excitedly as he kneels in front of her.

“Hey, kid.” Peter smiles, patting her head.

She giggles and hugs his leg, before grabbing his hand. Mayday pulls him over to the swings, making you laugh at the scene.

Mayday happily pulls Peter toward the swings, giggling happily. Peter chuckles, being pulled by her. She pushes him toward the swings, smiling and happily telling him to sit down.

He kneels and picks Mayday up, before swinging her back and forth in the swing. He giggles with her, as Mayday puts her hands on his cheeks and smiles up at him. You pull at your phone and snap a picture of them, setting it as your wallpaper.

“Are you having fun, sweetheart?” You call out to Mayday.

Mayday nods happily, still giggling and smiling at Peter. “Yes, mummy! I'm playing with Daddy.” She says happily.

You clap at them, “Peter, are you enjoying it?”

Peter looks up at you and nods as Mayday clings to him. She rests her head against his shoulder, still giggling and smiling.

“Yeah...having a blast.” He smiles, gently patting her small back.

“Okay, we have to get home so Daddy can rest and you need a nap, sweet angel.” You pull Mayday out of his lap, kissing her nose.

Mayday giggles excitedly and hugs your leg, before holding her arms out to be lifted into the stroller. Peter watches, smiling at the adorable sight.

You lift her and place her gently in the stroller, locking her in with the straps. You switch your attention to your husband as Mayday babbles for her dad to push her. “Can you—“

Peter sighs and stands up, pushing the stroller slowly. "Yeah, but Mayday better appreciate this." He smiles, practically reading your mind.

Mayday giggles excitedly as she sits in the stroller, leaning forward so she can watch the world pass her.

“Thank you.” You mumble as you loop your arms around one of his, leaning on his shoulder.

Eventually, your little family makes it to your home. Mayday leans forward and smiles at you, holding her arms up in an attempt for you to pick her up. Peter sets the stroller to stop and opens the door to the house, smiling as Mayday tries hugging your leg.

“Looks like she wants you to carry her…” Peter smiles.

You coo at your daughter, “Okay sweets, up we go.” You pick her up and trudge the stairs up to her room.

Mayday giggles excitedly, swinging her arms and legs. Once in her room, you change her and she begs to be set in her bed. You carefully placed her in the bed and tuck the blanket over her body. She looks up at you and smiles.

“Love mummy,” Mayday says cutely, waving her hand in front of her face.

“Mommy loves you too, baby.” You kiss your finger and press it to her cheek. “I'll wake you up for dinner later.”

Mayday nods before closing her eyes to catch a nap. You turn to leave her room, seeing Peter leaning against the wall in the hallway, watching Mayday.

“You two are too adorable.” He chuckles, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder.

“You're too adorable.” You melt in his hand. “Sorry, she couldn't nap with us. You got me though.”

Peter smiles and nods, as Mayday starts talking in her sleep, her soft and gentle tone is almost angelic. His attention turns back to you, hand dropping from your shoulder as he caressed your hand.

“Mayday's adorable but you're the most beautiful, sweet angel I've laid eyes on.” He grins.

You give him a tender kiss at the words. “C'mon, Peter. Let's get you changed into more comfortable clothing.”

Peter nods and heads into the shared bedroom, changing into some casual clothes before returning to you. Your daughter mumbles in her sleep, her dreams causing her small hand to clench tight around her teddy bear. She continues to lay asleep in her small bed, unaware.

“Did you see Mayday's new tooth?” Peter asks.

“Mhm.” You hum as he pulls you into bed together. “First thing she told me in the morning yesterday.”

Peter chuckles before wrapping his arms around you.

"She's the cutest little girl in the world, you know that?" He smiles warmly. "She's gonna be like me, tall and gorgeous." He chuckles, playfully pinching your arm.

Mayday continues to mumble in her sleep, her small fist still wrapped around her teddy.

“She really is cute.” You sink into his embrace. “Yet we made her together and got all your features…”

Peter grins warmly as his arms wrap around you and he leans forward to gently nuzzle his face into your shoulder. “She does sorta resemble me though.” He chuckles. “At least she got my hair and eyes.” He kisses your shoulder softly, pressing his forehead into your shoulder.

Mayday talks in her sleep and grips her teddy tightly. “Mummy…” she whispers softly in her dreams.

“Aw, my baby.” You coo at her dream talk, your heart clenching.

Mayday continues talking in her sleep. “I love you, Mommy…” her voice is quiet and cute, while her eyelids flutter in the small glimpse of a dream.

Mayday's hand tightly grips her teddy bear in her sleep, pressing it gently against her face.

Peter yawns, leaning forward and gently kissing your neck. “Maybe I should get some sleep…” he smiles, his tone a little quieter.

You hum, “Go to sleep, Peter. I love you.”

Peter smiles and rests his head on your lap, his hand caressing your leg. “I love you more…” he whispers, closing his eyes and starting to fall asleep.

Mayday shifts slowly, her face turning and her eyes opening slightly. She sits up in her bed, looking around the room. She opens up her small hand and stares at her teddy bear, tightly gripping it again. She sits there for a moment, still half asleep. She looks over at the door, waiting for you.

You look across your shared room with Peter, seeing Mayday from her room looking for you. You slowly leave Peter's embrace, kissing his forehead, and move to pick up Mayday.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?”

Mayday clings to you, burying her face into your chest. She clings tightly to your arms as her words sound slurred, her sleepy state still in effect.

“...I missed you, mummy…” she mumbles quietly, her tone soft yet sad.

You rub her back, “It's okay. Mommy is here, baby.”

You rock her gently, watching her eyelids droop. You push some of her hair behind her ear, humming to keep her asleep.

You check the time, knowing you have to start making dinner. So, you place Mayday back into her crib and make your way down, thinking of what to make for dinner.

Mayday lays in her crib as she continues to hold on tightly to her teddy bear. She rolls back and forth in her crib, still drowsy from the nap. After a few moments, her eyelids flutter as she sits up in her bed, yawning and stretching her body. Without thinking, she stands up, her legs wobbling slightly. She accidentally tips her crib over, falling onto her bottom, waking herself up in the process.

You jump at the sound, quickly moving up the stairs to Mayday's room but find Peter awake, shushing Mayday. You melt at the scene, entering.

“Mayday, you scared me, sweetheart, are you okay?”

Mayday sniffles softly, looking up at you with big wet eyes. She rubs her head and looks back at the fallen crib, her teddy bear still laying on the ground.

“...I'm sorry, mummy. I..I want to play, mummy.” Mayday rubs her eyes, her voice sounding weak.

Peter sighs, getting up and picking up Mayday, then bringing her over to the bed. “It's alright, Mayday. Just sit on Daddy's lap, okay?” He kisses her forehead.

Peter keeps her stabilized, “Mayday, see, you've got mommy and daddy all worried for you, baby girl. We just want to make sure you're safe.”

You nod, moving closer and get on your knees to caress her soft cheek. “I'm just glad you're okay, yes?”

Mayday smiles weakly at you, looking up and grabbing your finger.

“Mhm...mummy.” She sniffles and wipes off her tears. “I don't wanna sleep in the crib... want to sleep with you and daddy in the big bed…” She leans her face against your hand, closing her eyes. “Sorry, mummy…”

Peter smiles as he watches Mayday rest her head against your palm.

He strokes her small hair, “Mayday, I know you want to be with mummy, but you're still too little. You'll get your big bed in time.”

“I don't wanna big bed, Daddy! I wanna sleep with you and mummy!” Mayday pouts.

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart, that's dangerous. Mayday, mommy, and daddy love you very much, but if you sleep in our bed, you might get hurt.” Peter says in a calm and loving tone. He lays Mayday on his knee, so her head is resting against his thigh. “But, once you get bigger, you can sleep with us as much as you want, okay?”

You glance up at Peter, having a silent conversation with him. “Mayday, how about tonight after dinner, you can sleep with us? Just tonight.”

Peter smiles at you, giving a quick nod.

“Yes! Yes, please!” Mayday says excitedly, her eyes lighting up. “Thank you, Mummy and Daddy.”

Mayday leans onto her father's leg, leaning her head towards you, smiling. “When is dinner ready?”

“Maybe in ten minutes? I'll have to go check downstairs.” You kiss her forehead

“Okay, mummy.” Mayday nods happily, continuing to lean into you as she stares at Peter.

Peter chuckles and runs a hand through her soft hair. “I'll carry you downstairs.”

He slowly stands up with Mayday still on his leg, “Stay on, sweetheart.”

You were taking the pizza out of the oven, carefully placing it down on the dinner table. Mayday leans forward and places her teddy bear next to her seat, sitting down. Her little legs are dangling over the edge, while she looks up and smiles at you.

“Mummy made pizza, Daddy! I love pizza!” She chuckles, looking over at Peter.

Peter smiles as he sits down, placing her on his lap as he puts his arm around you.

“We make a good team.” He smiles, giving your leg a gentle squeeze.

“We really do.” You return the smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Mayday picks up her slice of pizza, as Peter starts to slice it in half. Mayday leans forward slightly, smiling at her father.

“Are you going to save me a bit of pizza?” She chuckles, her tone playful and cute.

Peter grins, “You know I am.”

He finishes slicing the pizza and gives her the other half. She smiles excitedly as she begins to eat it, her voice sounding muffled from the food in her mouth.

“Mayday, Honey. Slow down.” You wipe her face with a napkin.

Mayday looks up at you, her lips covered in pizza sauce. “But it tastes really good, mummy.” She smiles.

Peter laughs, “She's enjoying it, don't rush her, babe. She'll eat slower in a second.”

Her face turns back to her pizza, and she starts to eat it at a slower pace. Her little mouth opens and closes repeatedly as she chews the food, her cheeks beginning to puff out with each mouthful.

You look at the little girl in awe. How she became the cutest being to exist and be with you was one of the luckiest things in the world.

Mayday looks up at you, mouth still full of pizza sauce. She slowly swallows her food and wipes her mouth with the napkin.

“Mmmm, thank you Mummy and Daddy… I love you.” Her tone is soft, sweet, and full of joy.

She's always filled with gratitude for the people around her, especially you and Peter.

She gives your leg another grab and smile, before turning to her pizza and finishing it quickly. “Can I have another slice, Daddy?”

Peter looks at you for approval. You nod, lightly tickling your

child. Mayday giggles and covers her mouth.

“No...No.” Mayday says in a playful tone, before turning to Peter. “Can I?” She asks sweetly.

Peter chuckles and nods. “You can have as much as you want, Mayday.” He smiles, cutting up another piece of pizza for her. He hands the slice over to her, and she leans forward for it.

“Thank you, Daddy!”

Soon enough, the three of you are tired and full. Silence filling the room. Mayday leans back, her belly filled with pizza. She lets out a yawn and closes her eyes. Peter yawns as well and kisses her forehead, sitting her back on the dining table chair.

“I guess we should get you to bed, Mayday?” Peter asks.

Mayday nods slowly, still smiling and yawning, her eyes looking tired.

“I want to sleep with Mommy…” she says softly, with a slightly drowsy tone.

You grab Mayday out of the chair, gently taking her into your arms. “Let's get you dressed for bed and then you can sleep with mommy, okay?”

Mayday nods happily, as she rests her head against you. Her limbs dangle loosely and she holds onto you tightly. She's slightly drowsy, her voice tired and sleepy.

She mumbles softly, her tone almost inaudible. “Thank you, mummy... Can I hold onto the teddy? Please.”

She holds tightly onto the teddy bear, and her limbs continue to dangle loosely as she looks at you.

“Of course, sweet girl.” You kiss the top of her head, going into her room to grab the change of clothes and diaper. You quickly change her, “Up we go, Mayday.”

Mayday clings to your arm when you pick her up, smiling. You can feel her eyes falling shut when her head rests against your shoulder. She yawns and leans forward slightly, her head drooping onto your shoulder.

She looks up at you, rubbing around her eyes to keep them open. “… Mummy… Mummy… Mummy…” She yawns again, her eyes feeling heavy as she rubs them again.

“Are we going to my bed…?” She asks, her tone tired.

“You're going to mummy and daddy's bed, remember?” You open the door to your bedroom, hearing the shower running. You guessed Peter was showering. “You're gonna sleep with us tonight.”

“Mhm!” Mayday smiles, her tone slowly getting more sleepy.

She grips the teddy tight, her eyes closing. “Can I sleep with the teddy bear?” She whispers.

Her eyelids flutter as she tries to keep her eyes open, but soon she begins to nod off as she stares up at the ceiling.

“Yes, baby.” You lay down with her, cuddling close. “I love you... Good night.”

Mayday smiles, her eyes closing as she nuzzles against you.

She grips the teddy bear once more, her breathing sounding slow.

“Love you too, mummy. Night night…”she whispers softly, her voice soft and calm.

She turns to her side, holding her teddy bear against her chest.

Her small eyes slowly close and she falls into a deep peaceful sleep.

Peter walks into the room, his hair wet from the shower. He steps up to the bed and gently kisses both of your foreheads.

“You two look adorable. Sweet dreams…” He smiles, as he watches you and Mayday sleep, his tone soft and calm.

————

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[beanswrites]

Always Keeping You Safe

this is my Spider-man brainrot talking, people

also this felt like Peter so much and it was just so cute ahhhhhh💗💗💗

oh also!! Peter and reader are married in this drabble, and reader is Mayday's mother

pairing: Peter B. Parker (from Spider-man: Into the Spiderverse) x fem! reader

tags: fluff, following without knowledge??, classic spiderman kiss

summary: after dropping off Mayday at daycare, you notice a certain superhero following you as you walk home.

requests open!! | masterlist | rules for requesting

"Bye, honey!" You wave goodbye to your toddler as she goes off to play with her friends. The teacher waves at you too as you leave the daycare.

You stroll home, enjoying the first warmth of spring which just hit NYC. There are many people out on the streets, so you decide to take the little shortcuts to get home quickly and get started on work.

But NYC is a dangerous place - especially for young women, whose lives could be endangered even when doing such simple things as walking home alone. Even if it was the middle of the day, there were many villains, bad guys and who knows what else lurking in the shadows.

The fact that your husband Peter, the great hero Spiderman, was out on a mission, didn't really help to calm your nerves. You hadn't seen him in a couple of days, he had something large to care of with the other Spider-people. Which meant he wouldn't be there, couldn't save you, if something were to snatch and harm you right now.

A metal stairway shrieked as you walked by it , making your skin crawl. You felt strange, like there were eyes on you with every step. It was creepy, to say the least.

But, somehow, that unknown gaze on your skin didn't feel threatening at all - it felt warm, loving, like the gentle breeze on an April morning.

Suddenly, an empty can of soda dropped from above, almost as if appeared out of thin air. You recognized the brand very well; your fridge was always stocked with it.

"I know you're here, Peter" You say, rolling your eyes with a chuckle.

Your husband swings down, a dissapointed expression on his face.

"Damn it! How'd you know it was me, hon?"

"I missed you, too"

He laughs through the mask, swinging upside down.

"Sorry, baby. I missed you, hon, so much."

You start taking off his mask with a sly expression.

"Mayday and I are so lonely without you, y'know? Can't wait for you to finally be back.."

He chuckles sweetly, your lips so close that you can feel his breath on yours.

"Soon, I promise. Give me a couple more days and I'm all yours"

"Good"

Your lips finally meet, kissing like it's been years since you last saw each other, not days. His kisses are eager and full of need and want, showing you exactly how much he's needed you in the past week. Your hands hold his cheeks tightly to yourself, not even caring that you'll run out of air.

Who needs air when you have your hot, amazing husband?

When you finally pull away, you ask:

"Why were you following me, tho?"

"Just wanted to make sure you were safe, hon. No matter how busy I am, your and May's safety is my top priority. Always, yeah?"

"Yeah. Always."

that's all for this one, thanks for reading! send me requests and follow for more <3

[lovelywetdreamer]

💜🌸~Fluffy with Peter B. Parker~🌸💜

❤️Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who wakes up early in the morning, so he gets the opportunity to walk to work with you.

🕷Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who would sell his kidney just to go on one date with you.

❤️Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who learns classic dance to impress you.

🕷Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who loves swinging around the city with you on his back as he sings A Whole New World.

❤️Peter B. Parker is the type of guy to get matching nails with you and your daughter in a drop of hat.

🕷Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who would pour you a cup of wine, rub your feet, and make you dinner. He is secretly really bad at cooking though.

❤️Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who would hold your hand as you are giving birth.

🕷Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who would crack a joke to cheer you up.

❤️Peter B. Park is the type of guy you can just relax with your belly out and no makeup on. He still finds you to be the most beautiful woman his eyes have the chance to lay on.

🕷Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who would kiss all over your stretch marks. You might find it ugly; he finds them to be cute.

❤️Peter B. Parker is the type of guy who plans out the perfect date for you. The date would include watching a movie in the park as you both cuddle up with a blanket around you guys. He even made a picnic full of your favorite snacks and hot chocolate.

I know I'm late to writing about a cross the Spiderverse. I still wanted to write about Peter B. Parker. I really love him.

[mariees-love]

short peter b drabble?

Peter works pretty hard being spider-man sure he isn’t perfect but he dose try and recently he’s been trying in more places then others, specifically when it comes to you. It seems like recently he hasn’t been giving you that much attention after his “work” only taking a shower before flopping on the bed and going to sleep.

Today you decided to confront him about his lack of attention to you, at first you brushed it off after all he is spider-man and him being that isn’t easy but it’s been weeks since you two have had a good conversation or shared a decent meal together.

After you confronted him peter immediately felt bad because you where right about him not paying any attention to you but he had a plan how to make it up to you .

First he needed to get you out of the house but that part was easy since you’ve been trying to get out of the house anyway that week.

The hardest part was his surprise, he was planing a nice dinner (something like this or this)

But sadly you came home a little to early to find a huge mess in the kitchen and peter in the middle of it, you could only smile and laugh as you saw his ‘i tried’ expression

Peter may not be perfectly perfect but he’s the best thing you could ever ask for

[heyybaejjk]

im trynna read some Peter B Parker spiderman fics AND CANT FIND SHIT 😭 im deadass bruh i even typed up the #peterb thingy yk and all i see is miguel, LIKE LET MY OTHER DADDY OF A DILF SHINE AS WELL 😭‼️

[sassypossum]

Peter B. x Jelly • Friendsgiving • Parkelly

You guys throw the best friendsgivings ever • Apartment decked out in cozy neutrals with splashes of seasonal flare • The scents and sounds of a bustling kitchen overflow into the living room where a rerun of Twighlight plays silently in the background • After hours of cooking Peter insisted you take a break with a glass of wine • We sit trying to ignore the clatter of pots from the kitchen • Sharing a knowing look as masculine voices raise a mixture of Spanish and a strong New York accent • All in all its a cozy evening with friends, sharing a warm harvest of love and laughter....and pumpkin pie of course

@lazyjellyfish300, I just know you and Peter create a home of such joy and warmth it inspires everyone to just want to always be around you guys!!!!

[blac-ivy]

One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.

Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.

Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.

Bring back the build up!!!!!!!

[moonlesslights]

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."

"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:

[simonsfav]

Miguel O'Hara pregnancy headcanon

Fluff, pregnancy, future girl dad.

Should I also do a headcanon what he'd be like during parenthood? I already have a few ideas😋

You know those gender reveal parties where the dads get upset if the colour is pink? Nuh uh! Not in this universe. Miguel is ecstatic at the mere thought of even having a child.

He'd be super nervous tho. He wants to be the best dad. He literally over informs himself. You bet he's read every single 'how to parent' book. He's also asked Lyla to tell him everything she knows.

If you already thought he was a sweetheart, then get ready, because he's only going to get worse during your pregnancy.

He has always been so devoted to you, but now he's even more devoted to your future family together.

He loves being helpful in any way he can. Chores? He's done them all already. You feel sore? All of a sudden he's a professional masseuse.

He also can't keep his hands off of you. They're glued to you. He also loves rubbing lotion on your body🧐

He will prepare warm baths for you. He will also stick multiple straws together so you have a super long straw and can drink while laying down. Pure comfort, only for you.

He is also overprotective as hell. He basically invented the word. He took off time from work to solely be with you and your future family. But that doesn't mean he is slacking off. Any danger he sees, he will be your personal protection shield.

You know how you've heard about those husbands that will bring their video games to play games while their partner is giving birth? Yeah, Miguel fully believes these men should be put behind bars. Our man is by your side, holding your hand and supporting you through all of it. He's also stressing out all the doctors and nurses. He wants to make sure they're alert and treat you with the utmost urgency and respect.

He's definitely, in his head, screaming with you. Can't stand to see you in pain, and just wants to welcome his babygirl into the world.

He will definitely bring you flowers, but also bring flowers for his new little princess.

[vortqxwrites]

IM ACC OBSESSING OVER THIS LENG TING. MY MAN FR.

FANFICS ARE GOING TO BE MADE. SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST OMD ITS HAPPENING.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

request!!: peter parker who has a huge crush on reader and one day r just accidently friendzones themself without even realising that they did? (i hope that makes sense?) then after that u can take it anywhere u want to honestly!! ly <333

ily anon, you answered my pleas. also you know that tt prank where couples kiss and then say “thanks brother” or “love you sis”… couldn’t help but add it for some comedy.

mcu!peter parker x fem!reader

masterlist

you need to learn when to shut your mouth. tripping your foot into your mouth has gotten you into too many situations before, but this one is absolutely the worst one. you might as well be taken to the grave already.

your just a girl. sometimes you say your crush is “like a brother to you” when getting hounded by mr. delmar. it’s a panic move, mouth speaking before mind catches up. and it landed you in the dog house when you saw the way peter’s face dropped at the implication. but you thought he was smart enough to know that wasn’t true, you were touchy and teasing with him. you wouldn’t do that with a sibling, you’re not one of those people.

“mj, i’m a fucking idiot.” groaning into your pillow, trying to suffocate yourself.

she gave an exasperated sigh that you knew was followed by an eye roll. “yes you are, but you don’t need parker.” you heard the flip of a page.

you whined in your throat, “but i want parker!” acting like a tantrum kid. even adding a kick to your feet, your bed springs creaking.

mj groaned, “then clear the air! it’s not that hard!” over your peter parker drama.

you rolled from your stomach to your back, arms flipping to your sides as you stared up at your white ceiling. “but what if-“ your sentence was cut short by a knock at your window.

“say his name and he appears.”

peeking at the tips of your toes you saw peter squatting on your terrace, a hesitant smile with an awkward wave. welp, now’s a good time to clear the air.

crawling off your bed you pushed the window up and were greeted by a cool breeze. bits of peter’s baby curls swaying with the touch, a angelic glow surrounding him. you feel yourself melt just at the sight of him.

“h- hey peter, whatcha-“ “can we talk? alone?”

your eyes zeroed in on mj who was blantanly staring at the two of you, book of no interest at the moment. “oh, i’m fine over here.”

“mj…” “fine. fine. i’ll see you both at school.” packing up and leaving your home with a wiggle of her brows.

“so what did-“ “do you really think of my as a brother?”

you couldn’t help a small chuckle, “kinda funny how you’ve interrupted me three times, but uh, no. i- i don’t see you as a brother, that thought feels gross. mr. delmar was making me anxious.” looking to your fingers as you drummed them along your windowsill.

“oh thank god.” peter declared while cupping his hands on your cheeks to bring your head up. both of you smiling brightly at each other

two months later

“so what do i do?” “just sit there and look pretty.”

a shy smile at peter’s lovely words. he finished setting up his camera and pressed record, you just stared at his side profile.

“you wanna get to her, well you gotta go through me.” and peter turned to kiss you on the lips. a shiny haze covered your eyes then- “love you sis.”

“peter!”