#surprise bitch I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 year

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love me tender...or maybe not: happily ever after

pairing: cupid!Wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut, supernatural!AU, established relationship!AU - minors dni.

warnings: mild public indecency, impregnation kink, breeding, multiple creampies (they are WHORES), mentions of ovulation, pregnancy and kids, dirty talk, use of petnames, manhandling, oral (f rec), crying (it’s happy tears dw), marriage kink (yes you read that right), body worship, cockwarming, wonwoo is a fucking SIMP

word count: ~2.2k

summary: sometimes, fairytales do come true in real life.

Author’s note: surprise bitch i bet u thought you’d seen the last of him HAHA (okay but this is seriously the finale) - major thanks to @playmetheclassics, @sluttyminghao, @duhnova, @idyllic-ghost and @flowerwonu for proofreading (and screaming) this fic <33

p.s.: happy wonu day🥺

series taglist: @enhacolor @misssugarlips @flowerwonu @duhnova @heartkyeom @junkissed @himbocoups @wonwussy @idyllic-ghost

nsfw taglist: @rosecult @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @jonghyuns-husband @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @lovelyhan @luvv4svt

The feeling of the sea breeze gently brushes over your skin, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you flip through the photo album in your hands.

Your cheeks almost hurt from constantly smiling while looking at the pictures of your wedding day - which feels like it happened just yesterday (re: it’s been a month).

Your heart melts every time your eyes fall on the captured moments of you and Wonwoo dancing and kissing each other during the party, the black and white wedding suit making him look even more angelic than he already is. A few snorts escape from you when you notice a few pictures of Seungkwan and Dokyeom drunkenly singing their hearts out along with the music band and your nieces running around your wedding dress to play with the pearly white tulle - Every single of these moments shaped your wedding day into one of the best days of your life and you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

“Basking in the sunlight, angel?” Wonwoo comes behind you and softly runs his hands over your shoulders and your arms.

“Mm-hm,” you lay against his abdomen, “Feels like I’m in heaven, to be honest.”

“Well, you are officially married to a creature made in Heaven, so you’re not far from there.” He laughs and leans down to press a chaste kiss on your lips, “Although you could spend more time with your dear husband rather than this album.”

“Wonwoo, we’re literally 24/7 glued to each other,” you playfully roll your eyes, “If anything, we’ve barely gotten out of the room to take a walk through the island streets!”

“Can you blame me for wanting to enjoy some private time with my beautiful wife?” He kneels in front of you, hands running over your knees.

“You are so fucking horny, oh my God!” You threaten to hit Wonwoo with the wedding album, but he snatches it from your arms and puts it on the tiled floor.

"Yes I am so fucking horny because I have a fucking gorgeous woman by my side with heaven between her legs." His hands climb towards your inner thighs, but you yelp and instinctively push him away with your feet.

"Fuck!" Wonwoo yells before landing into the mini pool with a splash and you gasp, covering your mouth with your hands.

"Oh my God, Wonwoo! Are you okay?!" You get up from your seat and crouch down on the edge of the pool, when you feel a pair of strong arms pulling you into the water and you let out a shriek before falling in the pool with your husband.

"Are you crazy?!" You splash water on his face.

"That's what you get for pushing me away." Wonwoo smirks and pulls you flush to his wet body, pressing kisses all over your neck, his hands roaming your waist and your ass.

"W-Wonwoo! The clothes!" You squeal, the linen fabric of your dress clinging on your body like second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"It's just water, sweetheart," he pecks your cheek, "Don't worry your pretty head about it."

He keeps pecking your cheeks, his lips inch closer to your mouth and you're certain of the direction things are about to take.

"Nonu…" you half moan when he gently pushes your bodies towards the edge of the pool, trapping you between the tiled wall and his firm body, his soaked shirt showcasing his chiseled torso.

"Perhaps you wish to continue inside, darling?" He looks at you with his signature playful glint (the one he developed after you showed him how nice it feels to actually fuck) and you grin, slipping away from his embrace to get out of the pool and stand on your own two feet.

"It would be a shame to wet the floor in the room, though," you twirl a wet strand around your finger and play with the hem of your dress, raising it just enough to reveal your lacy panties.

With one jump, Wonwoo is out of the pool and takes off his shirt and pants, not caring about being fully naked on the balcony of a private suite - where any unlucky passerby could spot him.

"You're crazy."

"You made me like this, Y/N," he slides the straps of your dress down your shoulders and the wet fabric pools around your legs, "Crazy for you and your pretty, pretty pussy."

He picks you up in his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, carrying you all the way to the double sized bed, gently laying you down. He leans over you, kissing his way down your body, worshipping it like the finest piece of art he has ever laid he eyes on.

"Please don't stop, angel, please!" you whimper and thread your hand into his dark brown hair, gasping when he rips your lacy thong in half to expose your heated core.

"I could never deny you when you beg so prettily for me, sweetheart." Wonwoo looks up from between your thighs and kneels once more, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

The moment you feel his tongue dive between your lower lips, you're a goner.

Wonwoo doesn't hesitate to get messy with his mouth when he goes down on you - his oral skills have progressed exponentially, yet he eats you out with the same eagerness and excitement as the first time.

Except he's not your boyfriend anymore, but your husband for life.

"I could perish in your pussy, baby, I really could," he moans before licking a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit, "I swear I can still taste myself on you."

The last phrase makes you clench around emptiness and it definitely doesn't go unnoticed by him. His hands are glued on your waist, occasionally flattening his palms on your stomach, a thing he has been doing a lot lately (you still have to ask him about it).

"And here I thought I was the only indecent one." Wonwoo purrs against your pussy as he makes out with your clit.

"You're s-still very much indecent, mister!" You whine as he sucks your clit with his lips.

"And you're not?"

"Not as much as y-you!"

"What's that? My wife being a dirty little liar?" He detaches his mouth, licking his lips in the lewdest way possible.

"I'm not lying!" You protest and try to push his head down, but he's much stronger than you.

"Sweetheart…" he gives you a warning as he climbs over you and traps your wrists above your head with one hand, "You're still acting like a dirty little liar."

"Then tell me why you think I'm a liar." You taunt him and he scoffs, biting his bottom lip.

"I know for a fact that your pretty brain shortcircuits whenever my cock stuffs your messy little pussy full with cum and all you can do is beg and beg and beg for more," Wonwoo grinds his already stiff cock on top of your clit, forcing your hips to buck upwards, "Just yesterday, you made me cum inside you at least three times - you remember that, don't you, sweetheart?"

Of course you do. How could you forget? It was literally the first thing you did after arriving at the suite.

"W-Wonwoo-"

"What is it, darling?"

"I'm ovulating."

These two words are enough to make your husband freeze on his spot yet make his cock twitch like crazy.

"Do you….wanna rephrase that?"

"For fucks sake, I want you to put a fucking baby in me!" You squeal, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

"Is that so, darling?" He flashes an almost devilish smile before sliding his cock inside you, drawing one of the most sinful noises he has ever heard from your mouth.

"You want me to make you a mommy? Then so be it," he stands up and tilts your hips upwards, just enough to feel his tip deeper with each thrust, "Gonna fill up your pretty hole until it's gushing everywhere around the room."

Wonwoo sets a steady yet strong pace, bullying his cock inside you as he watches your face morph into all sorts off blissful and fucked out expressions, his heart swelling with pride.

“Baby, you f-feel so good inside me, fuck!” You grip his wrists, nails digging in his skin.

“I know, sweetheart, trust me,” your husband fucks you with slow yet deep thrusts, “I can make it feel even better.”

He pulls out of you and you whine in protest, but he shushes you with a quick kiss on your lips, followed by a cat-like grin. He pats your thigh and scoot closer to the headboard of the bed, giving him enough space to kneel on the mattress.

“Lift your hips up, darling,” he grabs one of the pillows above your head and slides it under your waist, “That’s it, baby.”

“Someone has done plenty of research.” You giggle when Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders again. That giggle morphs into a whiny moan when he folds you into the mating press, effortlessly sliding his cock back in your drenched pussy.

The suite room is filled with pornographic sounds and images alike - Wonwoo groans deeply with each thrust he delivers, his fingers tightly laced with yours.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum-"

"Fuck, already?"

"Y-Yeah, shit!" Wonwoo grits his teeth, "I'm gonna cum straight into your pussy, darling."

"Fuck, please do it, Nonu, please!" You plead him, clutching his hands tighter than before.

He topples over the edge and almost crushes you with his body weight, his cock spurting ropes after ropes of cum inside you. His lips are attached to your neck, licking and sucking your skin to claim it with his marks.

"That was….fuck." You breathe out and pet his hair, thighs practically screaming from pain.

"You mean this round, right?" He chuckles against your skin and your cheeks heat up, eyes widening.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, sweetheart…." Wonwoo lets out a throaty laugh as he raises his torso and pushes your legs flat on your chest.

"How am I supposed to put my angel babies in you with just one round?"

He most definitely didn't lie about multiple rounds, let alone multiple loads in your pussy.

You're both laying on the bed, half of the sheets bunched up around you on the mattress and half fallen down on the floor. The entire suite looks almost like a warzone - scattered crimson red feathers and stains of cum littered all over the bedroom, plus a few scratched furniture surfaces and an one broken chair.

"Wonwooooo….." you mumble, feeling utterly drained, yet fully satisfied.

"I can barely move my body…." he mutters back, "But it feels nice, heh."

"You bet it does," you smile tiredly, slowly dragging your hand through his messy hair.

"Kinda miss your lavender hair."

"I could always dye it back, you know."

"Yeah, but that would fry your scalp, Nonu."

"You would prefer it if I gave the poor priest a heart attack during the ceremony?"

"Okay no, that would be too much." You both erupt into giggles, looking at each other fondly.

"It feels like a fairytale," you admit and lace your hand with his, "You and me, married and spending our honeymoon in Santorini - You get me?"

"Well, almost."

"Almost?"

"Almost, because it's not a fairytale," Wonwoo pulls you closer to his body, wrapping his free arm around your waist, "It's real. You and me are real, just like the rings on our fingers, Y/N."

You take a look on your entwined hands, noticing the angel-winged engagement ring and you feel a stray tear roll down your cheek.

"Hey hey, why are you crying now?" Wonwoo wipes your tear away with his thumb.

"I'm just," You let out a quiet laugh, "Really proud of us, you know? We've come so far, the two of us."

"Well, it's all thanks to you and your dirty little antics." He grins and pecks the tip of your nose.

"As if your curiosity didn't contribute!" You protest, but let out a groan of pain when you make an abrupt move.

"Yeah yeah, of course it did." Wonwoo playfully rolls his eyes.

"But you don't regret it, do you?"

"Now you're just fucking with me."

"We've been doing that all day long, Wonwoo."

"I know, sweetheart," he smirks and pulls your thigh over his hip, sliding his cock back in your abused pussy.

"W-Won, I can't take any more orgasms, I'm serious!" You mewl as your pussy throbs around his shaft.

"Baby I'm just making sure you're nicely filled up and keeping my cum safe in you."

"I swear to God, you're an incubus in disguise, Jeon."

"We'll see that in a few years, darling."

"What's gonna happen in a few years?" You raise your eyebrow in question.

"Our kids will have their own set of pretty angel wings, just like their Daddy."

"For a cupid, you sound pretty dumb."

"Says you who got fucked dumb just a while ago," Wonwoo whispers against your jaw, ghosting his soft lips over your skin.

You can't bring yourself to form a snarky reply. Instead, you let yourself melt into his embrace, warmth spreading inside and outside of your body thanks to your husband.

You're one step before boarding the train to dreamland when you hear the softest whisper from Wonwoo's lips:

"I love you so much, Y/N."

You flash him one more warm smile before letting Morpheus travel you to other places.

"I love you too, Nonu."

#svthub #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo smut #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt fluff #svt smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen series #seventeen #tw pregnancy

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florencemtrash · 1 year

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Hummingbird: Chapter Seven

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: angst and some suggestive content

Peter plugged Mayday’s ears with his fingers before saying, “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

He stared daggers into Miguel’s back as he typed away at the computer, the sunglasses you’d given him resting on his broad nose.

Miguel ignored him, but Peter was anything if not persistent - Mayday got all her charm from him… sorta.

He flicked out a web, launching him and May up onto the platform that Miguel had isolated himself on for the last three days, only leaving when he absolutely needed to or when a multiversal problem came to light.

“Did you hear me, Miguel?”

Peter went to jab Miguel’s side, but the grouchy Spider-Man wasn’t in the mood, catching Peter's wiry wrists with ease and chucking him over and off the edge of the platform.

Peter rebounded quickly.

“That was rude.” He said, first dusting off his sweater and then Mayday’s. She giggled in her carrier.

“Again! Again!” She cooed.

“Go away, Peter.” Miguel’s voice was rougher than sandpaper.

“Bet you wouldn’t use that tone of voice with Y/n.”

Miguel practically growled, shooting Peter a warning glance. He looked like he was going to say something, but one glance into Mayday’s pure blue eyes and he hesitated.

“I’m not in the mood, Pete.”

“I know you’re not. You’re never in the mood to talk about your feelings.”

That wasn’t the whole truth. He had wanted to talk about his feelings with you the night he fired you from Spider Society. He had wanted to explain so many things - what his life had been like before he met you and before Gabriella; how sorry he was for letting you get hurt; how he just couldn’t seem to get past the wall of voices in his head that told him something terrible would happen if he let himself be happy.

The words hadn’t come out that night. He’d just stood there like an idiot until you finally gave up on an answer and left.

Maybe it was better this way.

“Miguel, do you remember what I was like when you first met me?”

The question surprised him and Miguel snorted without thinking.

Peter had just started to pull himself together when Miguel popped into his universe and asked him to join Spider Society. Miguel had helped him get his act together - helped him lose the bags under his eyes and the five o’clock shadow and the beer belly. Hell, he even helped Peter pick out the flowers to bring to MJ’s house. Granted, Peter had gained all that back - the eye bags, the facial hair, and the extra weight - but for a good reason this time. Mayday was living proof of that.

Peter smiled at the memory. Miguel had been a happier person then. Still sarcastic and dry, but with a lightness that hadn’t been seen in years… at least not until you’d showed up.

“Yeah... I remember.” Miguel said quietly.

“Would you believe me if I said we’ve switched places since then?”

Miguel frowned, disliking the comparison.

It wasn’t that he thought less of his friend - on the contrary, Miguel had always been jealous of how easily Peter could step into his role as a father and husband - but he just hadn’t seen it like that.

He looked forward, bits and pieces of his face staring back from the dark corners of the screen. His hair was disheveled, eyes bloodshot and burning after hours of looking at screens, and dark bags dragged down the skin beneath his eyes.

“Fuck.” Miguel groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

When was the last time he’d slept? Actually sat down to eat a meal? He missed you more than anything. He wanted to see you again, to make you smile, and to have you in his arms. Maybe it was selfish - it was definitely selfish - to want to have you around him, but…

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. Language!” Peter once again covered Mayday’s curious ears, “There’s a child here, you son of a bitch.” He whispered aggressively.

“What do I do, Peter?” Miguel murmured softly, “I don’t know what to do.”

Peter sighed, pulling out headphones and plopping them on Mayday’s head of bright red curls. This was a conversation for the adults and she seemed to understand, settling down against her father's chest and widening her eyes to comical proportions.

“I think you know exactly what to do.”

“I literally just said I don’t know.”

“Aggghh,” Peter shook his hands in frustration, “How can you be so smart and so dumb! Do what I did! Win her back! Go to her apartment. Apologize. Tell her how you feel. Be better.”

“It’s not that simple!” Miguel threw his hands up in the air, “I don’t belong in her world and she doesn’t belong in mine. To even be around her - to love her - is to risk everything I've built. Everything we protect. I can’t-I can’t make that mistake again. I can’t…” Miguel swallowed thickly, “It was my fault Peter. It was all my fault. I lost my daughter. I can’t lose Y/n too.” He finished, eyes angled to the floor and shoulders shaking with each shuddering breath.

Peter's shadow fell over his feet, but what he wasn’t expecting was for a pair of small, chubby hands to grip his cheeks and smear away the tears that had fallen there.

Little Mayday Parker, as wild and mischievous as her father, crawled out of her carrier and hugged him with a strength no normal two year old should be capable of.

“Don’t cry. No crying.” She commanded, rubbing her hands against his face again.

He couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“I told you she makes everyone feel better.” Peter said. A proud smile warmed his cheeks.

“She does.” Miguel said.

The precocious toddler leaned back to inspect her work and nodded in approval.

Peter clapped a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “Y/n is different from the rest of us, Miguel. And I think she just about breaks all the rules you know about the multiverse. If things are going to work out with anyone, they’ll work out with her.”

Miguel felt that inextinguishable bit of hope inside him grow a little stronger. Then he flinched, thinking back on how he’d ended things with you.

“I messed up, Peter.”

“I know.”

“No, I majorly messed up.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” He said, picking Mayday up and twirling her around, “But! I have an idea about how you can fix things.” He winked, “I learned from the best.”

>>>

Washed, clothed, and feeling worse than ever - that was the tagline of the evening as you sank into your couch, turned on the TV, and started drawing circles on a notepad. You pushed through the cramping in the palms of your hands, willing the feeling to extend up to the tips of your fingers which had remained numb and stiff ever since being electrocuted.

Someone knocked at the door and your heart gave a little leap as you blinked over to the front hallway and peered through the peephole.

“Y/n?” Mrs. Fleming’s muffled voice asked. “It’s Mrs. Fleming. Are you in there?”

You tried to mask your disappointment before flinging open the door.

Mrs. Fleming folded her fingers together, laying them on her plump stomach as she calmed herself. “Good heavens, dear!”

You flinched, “Sorry for scaring you, Mrs. Fleming.” You said apologetically.

“I hardly heard you make your way to the door. Might be time for me to get those hearing aids." She made a noise of disapproval with her tongue, diving into the folds of her thick sweater that emphasized her plump figure and pulling out a small container of lasagna. She gave it a light shake.

“I made extra and thought I’d check in. Didn't know if you had time for a proper grocery run since coming home. It’s funny though. I could have sworn I heard someone moving around up here two weeks ago before you got back.”

“It was probably Miguel.” You said, and almost winced as the name left your lips, “He took care of some things while I was away.”

“Hmmmph.” The old woman hummed in thought before nodding, handing you the tupperware, and bustling back down the hallway.

Well at least now I have dinner. You thought to yourself, shutting the door and shuffling over to the kitchen. You watched the plate turn and turn in the microwave as thoughts turned in your mind.

Maybe you should have told someone you were officially leaving (or rather that you’d been officially kicked off the team) and said your goodbyes, but it hadn’t been your intention to teleport back to your dimension. Now that you were here, you knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park trying to get back to Earth-928 on your own. You’d seen what kinds of worlds the multiverse held and didn’t want to risk ending up stuck somewhere strange if things went awry. You’d stick to this world with its quirky landlords and quality cooking shows - a world without Miguel.

Damn it. You frowned, setting the plate down on the coffee table with a clatter. You were thinking about him again. You were missing him again.

There came another knock at the door, and you were convinced you heard the click of the silly knitting needles Mrs. Fleming always carried around with her. It was why you didn’t bother to look through the peephole before swinging the door wide open again.

“Hey Mrs. Fle-”

You froze. Mrs. Fleming was nearing 80 years old and barely came up to your shoulder. You were eye level with this person's chest.

You already knew whose russet-colored eyes you were going to see before you looked into them.

Miguel was almost unrecognizable in civilian clothes, a bouquet of white and yellow daisies clutched in his hand - your favorite.

“Hey,” He breathed out, lips lifted in a nervous, half-smile. “Y/n, I-”

You slammed the door shut in his face. It was more out of surprise than anything else. Yes, you’d hoped that he would seek you out. Yes, you had imagined what you’d say if he decided to find you in your universe with flowers and an apology. But it was very different seeing him stand in front of you like a lost puppy with those beautiful red-brown eyes and tousled head of curls.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. ¿Qué hago?

You paced in front of the door, gnawing on a fingernail as you tried to think of what to do.

What you wanted to do was drag him inside by the font of his shirt and slam your lips against his, but your pride wouldn’t let you do that with reckless abandon.

“Y/n… I can hear you pacing.” Miguel said from the other side. He was sweating bullets and gripping the daisy stems so hard in his hand he worried they might snap. “Listen, I know you probably don’t want to see me right now. Maybe you don’t want to ever see me again, but… I just want to apologize. For everything. I never should have said those things to you. I was wrong and I'm sorry.”

Your heart clenched painfully. You pressed your ear up against the door to hear him better, not caring that he could probably tell exactly what you were doing.

“I never should have kicked you off the team. You are cut out for this and you’re one of the most talented, most competent people I know.”

You watched as Miguel waited seriously, holding onto the bouquet of daisies like they were in danger of being ripped away from him.

You opened with some hesitation, but you were already a goner. His eyes lit up even while the rest of him remained silent and serious.

“You brought flowers.” You said dumbly, pointing to them. He thrust them out towards you, cellophane crinkling.

“I know it’s not much but-”

“I like them.” You said quietly, rubbing one of the velvet petals between your fingers. The anger you'd held towards him before was all gone. Now, you just missed him. “Come on.”

You led him inside your apartment. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen your space. He knew to take off his shoes and to watch out for the coat hook that jutted out in the narrow hallway.

You moved around the kitchen with ease, Miguel standing close by and watching as you made some tea for the both of you. Neither of you had spoken since he’d stepped through the doorway.

“Y/n.” Miguel said, one hand brushing against your waist as you turned around and leaned against the counter.

Miguel filled up the tiny space of your kitchen, literally and figuratively, enveloping you in his presence.

“I’m sorry.” He dipped his head down towards yours, looking into your eyes.

“I know.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Then explain it to me. Talk to me.” You begged, reaching up to take his face in between your hands.

He leaned into your palms, sighing and planting two quick kisses on your wrists before he could stop himself.

“Tell me.” You whispered again, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his. You wanted to know. You wanted him to trust you enough with the stories he hadn’t told anyone else.

His hands floated down, squeezing your waist gently like he needed a reminder that you were truly in front of him.

“When I first met the other version of you - when I took my variant’s place - she knew something was different. She never said it to my face but I could tell I was hurting her. She was confused and upset because I wouldn’t remember dates or memories from the past. Because I was different. Because I was wrong.”

You winced when you heard the pain in his words.

“And Gabriella… She was too young to know. She was just happy to have her father but…” He swallowed thickly, tears beginning to collect in his eyes, “I wasn’t him. I was never him. I never knew them like I should have. I was holding onto things that weren’t mine. I was... I was just this poison that came into their lives and destroyed their universe and I lost them both.”

You shushed him, pulling him against your chest as he began to cry. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, engulfing you in a hug that brought the both of you to your knees. He never let go, holding you against him as he shook with sobs.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. I’m here.” You whispered into his hair, feeling his breath coming out in short bursts against your skin. You blinked back tears, feeling your throat tighten. “I’m here.”

“I put them in danger and I can’t-” He shuddered, “I can’t lose someone else like that. I can’t. I can’t.” He repeated over and over and over again. “I thought I lost you that day when Miles and Gwen brought you back covered in burns. Your heart-” He stilled, “Your heart stopped for three minutes before you came back to us. And I realized that this time... this time I had something that was actually mine to lose.”

You held him there on the cold kitchen tiles until the bubbling kettle finally gave up and shut itself off and Miguel stopped trembling.

“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered the secret he’d been keeping for months on end.

He loved you. He loved you. He loved you.

Your heart nearly burst from the feeling.

“I thought I could ignore it - that it would just be some passing feeling - but I can’t.”

You laughed. It was a quiet, desperate sound, more like a sharp and wet exhale that made him pull back, worried that you didn’t believe him. It was his turn to hold your face in his hands. His hands slid up your sides, caressing your jaw as he tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes. Even with his tear-stained cheeks and mussed up hair he was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your entire life.

“I love you and I know you and it’s been the most terrifying thing in the world.”

“...but?” You said, trying to tease him. You wanted to hear him say that he wanted you. Fuck the world. Fuck the multiverse. You wanted to hear him say that you’d give yourselves a chance to be happy.

“But I want you. I want to be with you if you’ll have me. I want the first dates and the fights and to come home to you everyday and know that you’re mine.” He said, rushing. He was a man of few words, always serious, always to the point, but if given the opportunity he would have written all the love letters in the world for you, “I want you to stay with me in Nueva York. I want you to judge my cooking and to tease me and-”

You couldn’t stop yourself. You lips crashed into his, sending the both of you toppling back onto the kitchen floor. His arms immediately wound their way around your back, molding you to him as your hands disappeared into the strands of his hair and your breath became his.

“I love you too, Miguel. I love you,” You kissed him on the lips, “I love you.” You kissed him on the temples, “I love you,” the cheeks, “I love you,” the neck, “I love you,” You whispered against his lips.

Miguel shuddered under your touch. He was all warmth and longing and heat as you grabbed at one another with eager hands. Clothes crumpled on the floor to the tune of breathless sighs.

The tiles were soothing and cool against your burning skin as you laid with Miguel, chests heaving as he peppered the area around your heart with soft kisses.

You rolled over onto your side to face him, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones as you imagined what it might be like to draw him when he was at peace like this.

“Come back to Nueva York with me.” He murmured.

“Like this?” You gestured to your bare skin, wiggling your eyebrows. He grinned and kissed your fingertips.

“Depends on if you can blink us directly into my bedroom.”

“I thought you slept upside down from the ceiling rafters. Or in a coffin.”

He squeezed your hips, fingers fluttering dangerously at your sensitive sides as he captured your lips in a kiss. You squealed and squirmed away from his hands as he continued to tickle your sides until you were breathless and crying from laughter.

He loved to see you like this - smiling and laughing and happy. He wanted to see you like this everyday.

Your heart quieted in your chest and you finally allowed yourself to melt back into his protective arms.

“I mean it, Y/n."

I will stay here - with you - if you just fucking ask me to.

The pain of the argument you’d both had was still tender and sore to the touch, but a heavy weight had fallen off his shoulders after tonight. You wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with you.

"I want you to stay with me. I don’t mean you have to come this instant but…”

“I’d like that.” You finished for him, smiling against his lips as you continued stealing lazy kisses from one another.

But then you paused for a moment, looking at him carefully, “And I’d like to be put back on the team.”

Miguel’s lips flattened, his hands tightening around you.

“With great power comes great responsibility - that’s what you Spider-People always say, isn’t it?”

“Something like that, yes.” Miguel said after a pause.

“I can do this, Migs. I’m going to do this.”

“I know,” He murmured and then said hesitantly, “I still want you to take time off and heal. I don’t want you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. I-”

You pressed your fingers against his lips, shushing him, “I came back to you didn’t I? I won’t leave you here alone. I promise you that. It’s you and me, Miguel.”

He let out a shaky breath, holding you closer than you thought possible.

“Me and you.” He murmured reverently.

You spent the next few hours tangled up in each other on the kitchen floor, whispering sweet nothings and basking in the heat that naturally radiated off of Miguel’s skin. But when you finally fell asleep against his chest to the steady beat of his heart, he took the cue and gently carried you to the bedroom.

He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face when your hands slid up and down the sheets, seeking out his warmth before he had had the chance to slip under the covers next to you. So when he took his rightful place in the bed, you unconsciously tangled yourself up in his arms again, humming with satisfaction when his fingers brushed through your hair.

“I love you.” Miguel whispered once more, feeling your sleepy arms tighten around him, before he finally closed his eyes and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

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Author's note:

I just want Miguel to be happy, you know?

Also (hot take), I think we all deserve more gentle and loving interpretations of Miguel. I know in the movie he comes across as very stern and aggressive - which is why I think a lot of fics write him as being a very dominating romantic partner - but I think if he were to find someone he loved and was in a place where he felt comfortable starting a romantic relationship, he would be a lot kinder and gentler with them. But those are just my thoughts.

There's still a little more to come in this fic as I wrap things up so let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

Love,

Florence B.

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