[⚠︎] ▼ 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝙱𝚒𝚝𝚎 ▲ Miguel O'Hara x Reader▼ 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝟷/ 𝟸

▸ TEN ◂

Over the course of the week, you often visited Mary Jane and Mayday after not seeing them for a while due to your new job as an instructor.

"So, what have you been up to, (Y/n)?" Mary asked, cradling Mayday in her arms. "I heard you got hurt on the job recently. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you reassured her, waving a hand. "Practically good as new, though Miguel's been hovering like I'm made of glass. He's even banned me from working until I make a full recovery." You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Mary Jane smirked knowingly. "Peter's mentioned how close you and Miguel have gotten."

"Really?" You felt your cheeks heat.

"Oh, absolutely. He said Miguel acts differently around you—softer, more human. It's sweet."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. "We're... something," you admitted shyly.

Mary's smile widened. "Have you kissed yet?"

Your face flushed, and you nodded. "A few times," you mumbled, suddenly fascinated by Mayday's tiny fingers.

Mary's laughter rang out, warm and teasing. "I'm happy for you two. You balance each other out in ways that work."

Her words lingered in your mind long after you left, filling you with a quiet warmth.

Upon returning to your room, you found Miguel waiting outside the door. He looked... different. Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and tailored gray slacks, he radiated elegance and something else—a hint of nervousness.

"Miguel?" you called out, approaching him.

He jumps and quickly hides something colorful behind him as you approach. You grow skeptical as a smile appears on your face, did he bring you flowers?

"(Y/n)? I thought you were in your room this whole time. Where have you been?" His expression was stern but you knew he was only worried for your injuries.

You laughed and waved him off, "I paid Mary and Mayday a visit. I have had nothing to do all day. Speaking of which—"

Miguel cuts you off, "Ah, wait. Before I get an earful about how you want to get back to work..."

He trails off and brings out a bouquet of deep red roses behind him, "I was hoping you'd go out to dinner with me tonight?"

Your breath caught. "Dinner?"

He nodded, his expression softening. "I've already arranged everything. No interruptions. Just us."

You couldn't help but smile. "How could I say no to that? You flatter me."

He shrugged with a small smile, "Only for you. Take your time getting ready and dress nice. I'm going to take you somewhere fancy."

≫⊳ ── • ~ ༺ 🕷 ༻ ~ • ── ⊲≪

After a whirlwind of preparation, you emerged from your room in a dress you'd agonized over choosing—a rich, jewel-toned fabric that clung to your figure in all the right ways. Miguel's reaction made the effort worth it.

His gaze swept over you, his mouth slightly ajar. "You're stunning," he murmured, voice thick with awe.

Blushing, you looped your arm through his. "Shall we?"

Miguel led you to an upscale restaurant tucked away in a quieter corner of Nueva York's bustling spider-society hub. It was unlike anything you'd seen before—high ceilings adorned with chandeliers spun from crystalline webbing, soft jazz drifting through the air, and a stunning view of the city skyline.