Summary: When things go wrong while Miguel is on a mission, you take it upon yourself to help.
Warnings: Not really any besides an injury caused in a fight? Idk if that counts
Word Count: 3350
~ requested from anon ~
A/N: lowkey this is kinda mid but I'm posting it anyway😭 I appreciate the requests I've gotten from you guys when I asked last time. I'm just a super slow writer so I apologize lol
"Nice work, guys. That was a clean one." You said with a smile. You tapped on the holo screens in front of you to close the mission info down. The two Spiders you helped on the mission were just finishing up the transportation of the anomaly they caught, crossing off another mission as successful for the day.
"That worked up an appetite. I'm starving." One of them groaned in your earpiece.
"Anomaly in containment." The other said. "I'm signing off comms, thanks!"
"Thanks guys!" You responded right before your earpiece clicked twice—one for each Spider signing off.
You blew out a sigh and relaxed your shoulders. That was your last mission after being on comms all day. It really felt like that was all you were doing now. The last time you were on a mission was a whole week ago. A whole week!
You pulled up the communications report for the earth-1080 anomaly you just helped out with, and you filled out the standard answers. Pretty quick stuff. You had done it a hundred times before, and at this point, it was second nature. Once finished, you sent it to review.
You arched back in your seat to stretch for the first time in an hour, arms reaching up. Your spine felt much better, the ache from your unintentional slouching easing off your muscles.
"Think you can handle one last mission today?" Miguel's voice came from behind your chair, disrupting the silence of the room so suddenly that you jolted.
"Miguel—hey..." You stuttered, brain going blank for a second as he moved around you to stand at the front of your desk.
Your heart gave a traitorous flutter. It always did when he was standing as tall as he was, looking down at you with that expectation in his eyes. Like doing missions with him was a normal thing every day.
And technically, it was. Especially since you were on comms so often now. It just felt not normal every day because your heart still did backflips in your chest every time he got close.
"Yeah." You answered quickly, forcing yourself to focus again. "Which...which mission?"
Miguel looked down at his interdimensional watch. "Earth 4489c. It'll just be me. Should be relatively quick." He said. He tapped on his watch to prepare coordinates for the portal jump.
You nodded, navigating on your screens to sync your communication system with his watch. "Ready when you are."
Miguel portal jumped in a flash of light and color. A few seconds passed before his voice came smooth in your ear through the earpiece. "You got me?"
You swallowed, trying to ignore the roll of goosebumps down your back just from the way his voice sounded in your ear. Your system picked up his location in the dimension—broadcasted as a green dot—and zoomed out to get a wider scan of the area. "Yeah. Still finding the anomaly." You said.
Your system sensed an uneven shift of molecules in the dimension and immediately identified it as the anomaly, which now showed up as a red dot just a couple city blocks away from Miguel. You pinpointed the anomaly to load the info on your screen.
"I see it." Miguel said.
Your heart thudded a little harder. You needed to find any important information before Miguel decided to go in blind. You were used to Spiders jumping into the fray before they knew what was really happening, and while Miguel usually hung back to observe a situation, there were times he'd deem a problem easy enough to handle right away himself.
Your eyes quickly scanned for the most important information. "Rhino variant. Mechanical suit with electrical enhancements."
"Looks like it." Miguel responded in a grunt. His dot on the screen moved between buildings on your map as if he were swinging. "I'm going in."
You glanced around the city map for any other familiar Spider signatures, but Miguel's dot remained the only one.
You relayed the information, only because it was protocol. "There's no ping from the dimension's Spider yet."
To no surprise of yours, Miguel answered the way he always did. "That's fine. I can handle it."
You shook your head in amusement. "As usual." You muttered.
"When was the last time you called back-up for me?" He countered. You could hear the slight smile in his voice.
The red and green dots on your screen converged and your smile faded as you refocused on the job. "Just—be careful."
You tapped a couple buttons to see the molecular signatures of the civilians around. Most were scattering, causing chaos on the streets as they tried to avoid the wreckage and violence the Rhino anomaly was causing. It was too disorganized.
"Should I call backup?" You asked, chewing on your lip as you watched the dots move. "There are a lot of civilians around that could result in too many casualties."
"No, I've got it!" Miguel grunted before cursing under his breath. He was clearly grappling with the Rhino variant.
You loaded up the data of the city structures, eyes narrowed at the screen and brow creased in worry. Scanning the buildings, you tried to search for the best route Miguel could direct the fight in to avoid other people as much as possible.
You spotted something else instead.
"There's a server room in the building you're in—to your left." You spoke up quickly. Miguel and the anomaly were moving fast on your screen. "You can use the power to overload his suit."
Miguel didn't acknowledge verbally, but you saw the dots move in that direction.
"This armor he has is absorbing all my hits." Miguel uttered in frustration. "Nothing is slowing him down."
Your heartbeat steadily increased. If the anomaly wasn't showing any signs of stopping, how much longer could Miguel fight it?
"Miguel. Back-up?" You urged.
The dots on your screen continued to brawl. Civilians were still running, now further away from the fight, thankfully. But Miguel gave no indication of accepting help.
"Think you can take him down?" You asked this time, trying to gauge how the fight was going.
Your earpiece crackled loudly, making you flinch. A staggered curse from Miguel came through before the audio cut out.
The map on your screen glitched, and your heart dropped. Miguel's dot had disappeared.
"Miguel?" You called. Your lungs felt constricted in your ribs. You could barely breathe in the silence that answered you.
"Miguel?"
You stared at the screen, frozen. Eyes wide. The red dot still moved aggressively. But Miguel was completely gone.
"Hey! Miguel!" You jumped up from your seat as you called desperately into the mic. Your heart was pounding and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You had never seen something like this happen. He was hurt. Or dead. Or—something.
There was no time to call anyone else. You had to get out there.
You tapped frantically on the holo-screen to pull up the coordinates, then punched them into your own watch. Everything was a blur as you stepped through the portal and into the dimension.
A loud engine siren scattered your thoughts when you ended up on the roof of a New York building in Earth 4489c. Car horns blared up from the streets below and the burnt scent of the air made your nose sting. You sniffled and tugged your mask on, racing to the ledge to observe the wreckage down below.
The street was a mess. Cars smashed and corners of buildings crumbling. A few people still darted between the wreckage. The anomaly was nowhere to be seen. And neither was Miguel.
You swung down to the building you had seen on your holo screen and slipped inside a large, broken hole in the side. Your system had lost Miguel's connection right here. You only hoped he wasn't in the condition you feared.
Broken glass crunched under your steps. The office building was silent here, desks destroyed and splintered. Papers strewn all across the floor. A broken light flickered and sparked above, parts of the ceiling hanging in pieces. You gulped, and even that sounded loud here.
The server room you had pointed out to Miguel earlier had its door crushed inward. Wires sparked and lights blinked feebly on the few towers of servers that had somehow survived the carnage.
Your heart felt like it was trying to thump into your throat. Miguel was still missing, and you weren't sure if that was a good or bad thing. There wasn't any blood you could see anywhere, but there wasn't evidence of anything else either.
You stepped out of the room and spotted something glinting under one of the desks. You recognized that shape and metallic coloring. Surely it wasn't...
A chill skittered down your back as you knelt down to pick it up. It was a piece of an interdimensional travel watch. Miguel's watch.
It must have broken in the fight—that was why you lost connection. But where was Miguel?"
You straightened up and tapped on your own watch screen. You needed to call back-up. Miguel could be anywhere and the Rhino was still wreaking havoc somewhere in town. You wouldn't be able to find them without—
The wall across from you exploded. You stumbled back, gasping as the concrete chunks and glass pelted your suit.
Your spider-sense raged through your body like a crack of lightning, too late for you to move fast enough. You tried to shoot out a web on instinct anyway, but the line snapped when Rhino's rigid, metallic horn slammed you against the wall behind you.
Pain lanced your chest like fire. You scrabbled feebly at the armor while its roar rang in your ears. The pain turned white-hot, and you choked out a gasp. The fire in your chest was going to consume you.
The pressure on your torso suddenly disappeared as Rhino turned, bringing gravity upon your body again. You crumbled to the floor, head swimming, lungs screaming for a breath that hurt too much to take.
You had to get up. You had to move before Rhino could ram into you again. You couldn't sit here when danger was so close by.
As you staggered to your feet, the pain was so intense that you cried out. You grit your teeth. Dust was everywhere, making the world too hazy to see clearly. Shapes moved like a lazy blur and everything sounded so far away, like you had been plunged underwater.
Strong hands clamped around your upper arms. You gasped, your mind catching up to real time. The noises amped up in volume, berating your ears, and the silhouette in front of you sharpened.
It was Miguel there, the eyes of his mask as wide as ever.
"Are you okay? What are you doing here?" His words rushed out in a torrent that betrayed his shock.
Your legs buckled in sheer relief at seeing him, and his hands gripped you tighter to keep you from falling. You opened your mouth to speak, but only a pained gasp came out. Your chest hurt so much, the pain making your head pound. What was happening to you?
"Sit down." Miguel lowered you to your knees on the ground.
You clamped your hands on his arms, mouth open in desperate gasps, desperate pleas for air in your burning lungs. "It hurts—"
"I know. I've got you." He said immediately. His hand came up, tugging your mask to pull it off your head. Then he slid his hand through your hair to cup the back of your head. "Is that better?"
You couldn't really answer. Not while you were hiccuping and wheezing for breath.
"I'm gonna get you out of here." He said. His hand left your hair and he fumbled with your watch until he finally sent out an urgent message for back-up with just a few taps.
A roar echoed across the street outside. Miguel glanced back toward the sound, then looked at you again. "I have to stop him before he hurts anyone else." He said. "Back-up should be here soon. Hang on and don't move. I'll be back as soon as possible. Try to control your breathing, okay?"
You nodded, you breath hitching, and the pain in your chest growing more intense. But you knew stopping the anomaly was more important right now.
Miguel's hands slipped away from you, and he leapt and swung into the air with aggressive force, disappearing from your view.
You tried to keep your breathing calm, you really did. But the fact you couldn't get the air you needed bordered you on panic every time you attempted to suck in a breath.
Your vision swam, the crumbled walls and scattered office furniture swirling and blurring at the edges. With a dizzying swoop in your head, the world tilted and you faded into darkness.
-----
A soft beep permeated the dark, then another. And another. The rhythm continued in a steady tempo, pulling you from the depths and back to the light.
You opened your eyes slowly, squinting at the light. Cool blue walls and sleek monitors surrounded you. Fresh, cold air swept into your lungs through the nasal cannula slung lightly across your face.
A deep ache bloomed in your chest as you took in your next breath. You winced and looked down at yourself. You were in a hospital bed. Med bay at the Spider Society.
"Hey..." The low, gentle voice of Miguel almost startled you. He rose from a chair beside your bed. His mask was off, his brow furrowed in a way that made such concern look unfamiliar to his sharp features.
"You feeling okay?" He asked carefully.
You blinked, speechless for a moment. The fact that he was even here, waiting alone for you, was mind-boggling in itself.
"Yeah..." You rasped. Your throat was dry and you coughed a little, accidentally sparking the pain in your chest. Your face twisted. "I think I'm fine." You stared at the IV in your arm as Miguel remained standing there. You could feel his eyes on you.
"How do your lungs feel?" He asked. "Can you breathe okay?"
Fragments...your mind caught onto glimpses of memory. A destroyed office and server room. Gasping breaths. A hard wall cracking behind your back...
A deep soreness nested in your ribcage, making each breath feel tight and painful. But aside from that, every other part of your body seemed okay. You still had all your limbs intact and movement didn't seem too difficult, just deeply sore.
"Yeah..." You answered. "What happened?"
Miguel let out a breath, and you actually saw the tension in his shoulders loosen. You didn't realize how stiff he had been, standing there watching you like you were some unstable device about to fall apart.
He lowered himself to the chair again, and his expression smoothed over to his usual stony facade. "A couple broken ribs and a punctured lung." He supplied evenly. He stared, crimson eyes burrowing into yours. "Why were you there?"
More memories came back. You remembered his mission and your position in comms, watching the dots on the holo-screen at your desk—the way his green dot disappeared and your heart dropped. You thought the worst had happened.
"I was trying to find you." You said. "I thought you got hurt."
He shook his head slowly, eyes slipping away like that answer frustrated him. "You shouldn't have gone out there. Should have called back-up."
You frowned. "I...I was backup."
"No." His voice was firm. "Comms stays at base. You call anyone else. Anyone else besides you."
"I can handle—" your breath tightened, lungs flaring with brief pain before you forced yourself to continue. "I can handle a fight. You act like I've never been on missions before."
Sure, the fact that you were sitting here in med-bay didn't look good for the point you were trying to make. But you didn't want him thinking you were a useless mess.
Miguel's jaw tightened as his eyes flickered over the monitors hooked up to you. "I didn't say that. I know you can hold your own, but that doesn't mean—" he stopped himself and shook his head. "Look, just don't do that again."
The reprimand stung. Here he was, criticizing you in your hospital bed as soon as you opened your eyes. Was that why he had been waiting here for you? To point out your mistakes?
"I went out there because I thought you were hurt, Miguel." You said firmly. "Or dead—I..." Your throat closed on your words as you remembered the panic you felt. "I wasn't thinking right because I thought that was it. I thought you were gone."
Miguel's rigid expression fractured, eyebrows pinching together. His hands gripped the armrests before he shut his eyes and released a strained breath from his nose. "And yet, you got hurt in the process." He muttered.
"Anyone else could have gotten hurt in my place."
"And I'd rather it not be you if I can help it." He shot back.
You went quiet, surprised by his outburst. It was one thing for him to be critical about the multiverse or missions, it was another to be passionate about certain people. And passionate about you nonetheless.
But then you realized something.
"Is that why you put me on comms so much?" You asked quietly.
He rubbed a hand down his face, not looking at you. "Yes." He answered, sounding reluctant. "It's safe."
You sighed softly. "You can't be the only one keeping people safe, you know. I want you to be safe too."
He stared at his lap, unanswering.
"That's why I went out there. Because I care about you." You swallowed, hearing your own heart skip a beat on the monitor behind you as you thought about all those times you found yourself thinking about him. Those times you could have told him your feelings, but didn't.
Miguel looked up finally, his expression rigid, but not entirely closed off.
"We need to trust each other, Miguel." You said. "I don't want to be on comms all the time. I want to be out on missions saving other people too. I want to prove that I can be a good hero to those who need me."
"You are good." He said, his eyes softening a little. "I never wanted you to doubt yourself on comms. But...if that change is what you really want..." He paused. "I can do that."
You smiled softly. You knew he was hesitant—you could see it in the way his mouth set in a firm line, and his eyebrows pushed lower over his earnest gaze—but at least he was trying. For you. "Thank you." You said sincerely.
He nodded, then stood from the chair. "Just don't get your hopes up yet. I'm not giving you any missions until you're fully healed."
You chuckled a little, wincing at the twinge it caused in your ribs. "Understood."
Miguel's eyes swept over your form, taking you in as you sat there, bandaged and hooked up to monitors but smiling nonetheless. He cleared his throat, his voice quieter. "I'm glad you're okay."
Warmth bloomed in your chest. You glanced down at the bedsheet over your lap, almost shy now. "It's probably because of you that I am. And I'm glad you're okay too. I really thought the worst."
He let out a wry breath. "I probably would have deserved it."
"Miguel—" You gave him a displeased glare.
"I know. I know." He waved a hand, turning to the door. "For now I need to fix the tracking system on the communications panel so this doesn't happen again." He looked back at you. "Make sure you get your rest."
Miguel is basically married to responsibility first, you second (but very close second). He forgets to sleep, forgets to eat, and you’re the one reminding him he’s not a machine. If you show up in his lab, he’ll act like:
“I’m fine. I’ve been fine. I don’t need—”
while visibly running on 2% energy.
Conversations with him are never boring. He’ll explain science, multiverse theories, or tech upgrades like it’s casual small talk. You quickly become the only person who can interrupt him mid-monologue and he’ll actually stop.
He acts stern in public, but around you he slowly melts. If you touch his face or fix his collar, he goes still like he doesn’t know what to do with affection. He pretends he doesn’t like physical affection, but he absolutely does.
Miguel doesn’t “get jealous”, he gets quiet and observant. If someone makes you uncomfortable, they don’t get a warning twice. He won’t be overly controlling, but he’s always positioned where he can reach you instantly if needed.
He struggles to talk about feelings. Instead of saying “I’m stressed,” he’ll just work himself to exhaustion. You learn to read him: jaw tension = bad day, silence = worse day. But when he finally opens up? It’s rare, honest, and very serious.
Fixing something of yours without telling you. Quietly adjusting your safety gear before you leave. Bringing you food and pretending it’s “extra.” Watching over you from a distance when he thinks you’re not safe. He’ll always say.
“I was just making sure nothing happened.”
But he was absolutely watching.
Miguel doesn’t joke often, but when he does, it catches you off guard. Dry humor. Very dry. Occasionally unintentionally funny. If you tease him first, he’ll stare at you like you committed a crime… then smirk slightly.
You’ll find him working at ridiculous hours. Sometimes you just sit nearby so he doesn’t spiral into overwork mode. If he gets too quiet, you’ll feel him lean his head against you for a second before pretending it didn’t happen.
He doesn’t say “I love you” often. Instead you get.
“Text me when you get there.”
“Don’t go alone.”
“I’m coming with you.”
And somehow, that’s his version of devotion. When he finally lets his guard down. He gets quieter. Closer. More honest than you expect.
He might admit.
“I don’t trust many things. But I trust you.”
And he means it completely.
Dating Miguel O’Hara is loving someone who is always fighting against chaos and slowly becoming the one place where he allows himself to stop fighting.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x flustered/hopelessly in love spider-woman!reader
Summary: A frightening experience pushes the two of you (too close) together.
Warnings: mostly yearning and reader is flustered 24/7. Reader has suggestive thoughts.
Word Count: 2100
Neon lights flashed, streaking color across the night sky in your peripherals. The butterflies in your stomach swooped and soared as you rose and fell between the high buildings of Nueva York. Miguel swung ahead of you, the neon red of his suit making him fit right in with the bright city lights. He moved with such ease that it truly impressed you every time you patrolled with him.
You shot a web to catch up, and wind whistled sharply past your ears. You were falling behind, staring at Miguel more than the city below. You needed to focus—do your job. Not gawk at your boss.
It was becoming more frequent now. You were always highly aware of where he was at in a room, and therefore more flustered and distracted, especially when talking to him. It was embarrassing, to say the least, but he never caught on. At least you hoped he didn't.
You blinked, coming back out of your thoughts and to the present. Back to work.
You swung, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. Thwip, swing, thwip, swing.
Your heart raced with the sensation of rising and falling, like you were on a playground swing again. You had grown used to the feeling after being spider-woman for so long, but sometimes, you could tap into that same butterfly feeling in your stomach and let your thoughts fly away like you had nothing in the world to worry about.
You zipped past the corner of a building, sticking your arm out and anticipating the pull of your webbing going taut.
It never came.
Suddenly, that light, butterfly feeling in your stomach increased tenfold, a blast of white-hot terror shooting all the way up your spine. Your limbs flailed, clawing through the air as blinding colors zoomed past you. In a panic, you shot your other arm up, attempting to expel a web. But in a blur of lights and whistling wind, You realized it hadn't worked. Both your web-shooters were out.
"Miguel!" His name erupted from your throat without another thought—a scream.
You tumbled through the air, trying to stabilize yourself so you could at least see and figure out how much time you had left before—
Your body collided with something hard. Your hands gripped on before you could realize what was happening.
"I got you—hold on." Miguel grunted beside your ear.
Your breath heaved shakily from your lungs, your arms and legs wrapping around him automatically.
"Hang on." He said, right before he landed on a small ledge against the side of a building. His momentum crushed his body against you firmly enough that you wheezed. Metal crunched somewhere above your head—one of Miguel's clawed hands digging in to keep the both of you steady.
You pushed your mask off, needing to breathe without its confines. His own mask receded from his face in a flurry of pixels, exposing the intense furrow of his brow as he stared down at you. "You okay?"
Only then did the feeling of his body become quite clear. Your legs were still wrapped around him, limbs stiff from the terror that clung to you. But you were safe now—you had to tell yourself that. Slowly, you slid off him, making sure your feet had a stable position. The small ledge the both of you stood on did no favors for your proximity. His arm around your waist tightened to keep you stable, and suddenly, your heart had a very different reason to be pounding.
"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine. Thanks." You stuttered. Adrenaline still crackled in your body and pulsed in your fingertips. Your eyes drifted down to where your hand rested on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating against your palm just as fast as your own.
You swallowed, your gulp probably audible to him. He was close. Very close. The tight ledge gave little mercy for any space between your bodies, and every part of him that pressed against you set your skin alight with heat. It was a dangerous combination—your heart thrumming in your ears, your thoughts already awry, and the both of you too close. An urge to drag your hand down, feel those muscles of his beneath the brush of your fingers—
"What happened?" He asked, moving his arm from around your waist and grabbing your hand from his chest. He examined your wrist with a critical eye, rubbing his thumb there. "Your web-shooters malfunctioned?"
His hand holding yours only sent your brain into a deeper spiral of inappropriate thoughts. "I can't think." You muttered dumbly.
He dropped your wrist, sliding his hand up to the side of your face and tilting your head back. "Did you hit your head?"
Your eyes slammed shut and you shook your head. His touch and words were too much right now. If you hadn't been clinging to the last shred of composure with everything you still had, you would have turned into putty right in his hands.
You used that little bit of composure, turning it around and shoving it in the place of your annoying feelings and thoughts, hoping it stuck. A harsh breath rushed from your nose. The way Miguel's fingers felt in your hair at the nape of your neck almost pushed you to the edge again.
"I'm fine." You managed. A little sharply, but the words were out nonetheless. "I'm fine."
You opened your eyes once you felt calm enough to face him without cracking, and the tension in his own gaze softened the longer the two of you stared.
"You need better web-shooters." He muttered, eyes tracing down your body pressed against his before coming back up again. Like he only just noticed the kind of position you were in.
"Yeah." Your response was breathy, automatic. Your brain was wandering elsewhere once again, and your eyes dropped to his lips without thinking.
It seemed even the wind held its breath between you, the silence amplifying the rapid drum of your heart, hot and electric. Miguel's hand on your cheek weighed heavy, and your eyes slowly crawled back up, meeting such an intense gaze that it weakened your knees.
His thumb brushed just beside the soft curve of your lips. You didn't dare move—didn't want to. Your lips parted. An invitation, perhaps.
Then he dropped his hand away.
The world snapped back into motion. Miguel straightened, jaw tightening as he pulled back, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You were so sure he was about to lean in and close the gap, but it appeared you misjudged.
"We should go back." He said roughly.
You dropped your eyes and immediately regretted it as dizziness swelled up in your head. You had become so distracted that you forgot just how high up the two of you were.
You blinked, inhaling through your nose and steadying yourself. You could think about what happened later. Much later when you got home for the night. For now, you had to pretend like everything was fine.
Except for your initial problem.
You glanced around, assessing the city buildings. "I...don't have webs, though."
He looked down at your hands, then cleared his throat. His mask returned to cover his face. "I'll carry you."
Miguel wrapped an arm around your waist and hoisted you against him with ease. You tried very hard to keep your mind from straying as he swung all the way back to HQ, but it was difficult when your arms were looped around his neck and every muscle bunching and stretching in his shoulders was all too easily felt.You hoped that your own mask you had shoved back on could contain the heat in your face.
Once Miguel touched ground on the roof of HQ, you were already looking forward to escaping his distracting presence. But then he suggested he fix your web-shooters, and your heart clenched. The automatic urge to decline came up to your throat, but when you opened your mouth to speak, the words couldn't make it. Instead, a wobbly agreement came out.
Now, the two of you stood in his quiet lab, your wrist in his hand and his focus narrowed to the tiny mechanisms in your web-shooter. The both of you had removed your masks again in the comfort of HQ.
Unfortunately, that meant you had to strictly keep your eyes on his working hands for a long while to avoid staring at his pretty face.
"I'm glad you were there when my webs failed." You broke the silence carefully, looking up at him.
He paused his work, eyes lifting to yours. The ever-present crease between his brow softened just enough for you to notice. "Me too." He said quietly.
Then his gaze dropped back down, and he adjusted his hold on your wrist, the mask of concentration quickly returning to his face. He cleared his throat. "You got lucky."
"Yeah..." You let out a weak chuckle. "I did."
The warmth of his hand holding your wrist sank through your spider-suit and into your skin. Watching the movement of his hands got you thinking too much—thinking about that same heat of his palm pressed against your back after he caught you from the fall. The way his fingers splayed, his grip strong and steady.
You imagined that hand sliding down your spine, slow and unhurried. Confident like he was with anything else. Touching...elsewhere.
"You okay?"
You jolted at Miguel's question, glancing up at him. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine." You said quickly, banishing those thoughts before they could get worse. Your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment—shame, even—and you tipped your head down to look at the floor so he couldn't see it.
He stared.
You didn't have to look. You could tell his eyes were on you just by how suffocating his silence was.
He drew a slow, quiet breath. "You're so skittish around me." He murmured, his tone careful. "It used to not be like that."
You looked up in surprise—and defense. You didn't think your conflicting thoughts and feelings had been spilling out so noticeably. And most of all, you didn't think he had been tracking it.
"I don't mean to." You blurted.
The furrow in his brow sharpened. "Then why?" He pressed. His eyes darted back and forth over your face. "Are you scared of me?"
"No! No—I...it's the opposite." You took a shuddering breath. Your heart was pounding again, and only now you realized what you just admitted.
Shock—or something close to relief—flashed in his eyes before he blinked, looking down as if he just remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Fixing your web-shooters. He stared at your wrist in his hand and his jaw tightened, just like it had earlier on the side of that building.
You didn't want him to pull away again. The truth was out now, so you blundered forward and hoped you weren't going to make things worse.
"I thought you were going to kiss me." You said, your chest tightening. You needed to get it out. Needed to know if it was real or if you had only imagined the way he leaned in. "Earlier. After you caught me."
His mouth was tight, and his eyes flickered.
"I thought about it." He finally said.
Your eyes searched his carefully composed face. He always made it nearly impossible to read him.
"And now?" You breathed.
He looked at you for several, long seconds. Then, his hand holding your wrist slid up to wrap around your fingers. He pressed your captured hand to his chest, like he was trying to hold the moment against him so it couldn't slip away. His throat cleared loosely. Nervous, perhaps.
"Now I...I'm thinking about trying again."
His other hand came up to cup your face, the gentle warmth nearly making you shiver. You didn't move. Didn't want to break this second chance as you stared up at him with wide eyes.
He began to lean down, but stopped halfway. "Is that okay?" He asked quietly, doubting even now.
"Yeah." A giggle bubbled up in your throat, entirely unintentional. He was actually going to kiss you. After all this time. You pressed your lips together to rein in the excitement. "It's very okay."
His lips quirked up at the corners, and he leaned in the rest of the way to kiss the stupidly-happy smile off your face.
Nonviolent Communication - Dulzura's Birthday One-Shot
Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: It's your birthday!
Word Count: 6.2K
Warnings: None.
Spotify playlist (updated)
Masterlist
Holding himself up, Miguel watches you through the kitchen windows from outside the penthouse. He holds his grocery bags together with a single string of his neon red web, watching you bake cookies.
Tomorrow is your birthday and you have no idea that Miguel has put together a surprise party in your honor. The bags on his hand contain the last minute things he needs, which he went out to gather using the excuse of doing a quick patrol around the city to avoid ruining the surprise.
With a smile — one that's always inspired because of you — Miguel watches you mix ingredients in a bowl, dressed in a comfy matching lounging set. Lyla hovers around you, making conversation about God knows what. She loves talking to you, so Miguel knows whatever you two are discussing could be about anything.
After realizing that he's been watching for a little too long, Miguel moves away and climbs further up to enter through one of his bedroom windows. He drops off everything he bought and stores it away with the rest. Mentally, Miguel checks off his list before he actually picks up his physical handwritten list. Everything has been bought and seems to be in order for the surprise birthday party. Everyone that needed to be invited has been invited.
Satisfied, Miguel slips back outside to avoid raising suspicions and enters through the living room, where he's instantly greeted with the scent of baking.
“Dulzura, I'm home,” he calls out.
“Hiii, I'm still in the kitchen,” you reply with a chuckle, luring Miguel to meet you with that sound.
-♡-
Today — the day of your birthday — Miguel wakes up a little earlier than he usually does to get started with the day. He wants everything to be perfect, so he works on some things, like taking off the tags of some of the items and even ironing a new tablecloth he bought for the dining table. He hides away his gifts that he plans to give you later in the day when it's just the two of you before he decides it's time to start on a special breakfast for you.
With soft holiday music in the background, Miguel begins working on the food, doing so with love and appreciation.
In the middle of his cooking, Miguel takes a quick glance around the kitchen and dining area only for his eyes to stop at the Christmas tree. Just like in previous years, Miguel and you set up the tree and participated in your yearly traditions of making your personal ornaments. The new ones have now joined the older ones, marking another year. On the windows, cute snowflake stickers you bought decorate the edges along with strings of lights, adding even more holiday spirit to the penthouse.
In the living room, the same applies to the windows. The big artificial tree was brought out for the second year by Miguel and just like with the holographic one, the two of you decorated it together. You even added handmade bows, a gesture that stirred something within Miguel because it's such an intimate gesture. For some strange reason, your handmade bows make him feel happy and he doesn't know why.
It's not like you haven't already added your own personal touches to the penthouse. You have, which Miguel loves, so he doesn't know why the bows have him feeling like this. It's a good feeling though, so Miguel doesn't mind it.
With a little shake of his head, Miguel focuses on making you a lovely breakfast. An hour later, he prepares the table and puts a different record on, something relaxing and nice for you. When that's done, he pulls out a fresh bouquet of flowers he bought yesterday at the market from the couple the two of you met a while back. Carefully, Miguel fixes the bow he added as he recalls Mr. Gonzalez's question for him when he showed up looking for the perfect bouquet.
”Is she your girlfriend yet, mijo [my son]?” Mr. Gonzalez asked, which earned him a gentle swat from Mrs. Gonzalez.
”Don't pay him attention, hijo [son]. Éste hombre se mete en todo [that man gets involved in everything]. The flowers are for her?” she asked with a smile.
”Si, son para Dulzura [yes, they’re for Dulzura],” Miguel replied sheepishly.
“Come, I have other arrangements over here,” she responded before leading him to see the nicer bouquets.
Girlfriend.
Mr. Gonzalez asked him if you were his girlfriend yet, as if it's something he's already expecting to happen.
We're just best friends, Miguel thought to himself, but he didn't voice it.
Miguel's thoughts come to a halt when he hears you come down the stairs. He quickly straightens up and fixes his sweater while holding the bouquet of flowers, getting ready to congratulate you.
With a smile that could melt all the ice in the world, you enter the room looking radiant as always.
At least, to Miguel you always look radiant, even when you say you look tired or other comments about your appearance after just waking up.
He exhales heavily, releasing a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, and smiles warmly at you. God, did you have to look so adorable this early in the day?
“Feliz Cumpleaños [Happy Birthday]!” Miguel excitedly says as he comes to greet you.
“Aww, Miguel,” you sweetly reply as you greet him halfway, hearing the birthday song in Spanish through the speakers. “You got up early to make breakfast! Thank you, you're so sweet!”
“Of course, I wanted to make you breakfast, especially today for your special day.” Miguel says smiling, offering you the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you. I hope you like them,” Miguel sheepishly says with a little blush on his cheeks.
Smiling, you accept the flowers and smell them. A hum of appreciation escapes you. “They're lovely, Migs, thank you so much. For the flowers and the breakfast, which I'm certain is delicious,” you state, noticing a little greeting card hidden away in the flowers. You pull it out, seeing it's a pre-made one that came along with the flowers.
Miguel raises an eyebrow when he sees that, surprised. He didn't notice and now he wonders if the message is appropriate.
“To my soul mate, I hope these flowers bring you as much joy as you do to me,” you read out loud.
“That's — I didn't — It came with it,” Miguel stutters, trying to explain himself so you don't think wrong about him. The last thing he wants is to upset you, or make you feel weirded out.
“I know, don't worry, Solecito [little sun],” you reply with a small chuckle, tucking away the card. “It's alright.”
“It's just, you know…” Miguel starts, rubbing his neck. “I didn't realize that was there. I don't want you to feel weirded out.”
“I could never,” you answer smelling the flowers again and looking so lovely doing so. “Besides, you do know soul mates can be both romantic and platonic, right? So…”
So… The two of you can definitely be soul mates.
Platonically, of course.
Miguel smiles once more, his worry dissipating. “True. I got worried for no reason when I know you're so understanding, but hey, how about breakfast? Everything is hot and ready, so we can eat now.”
“I'd love some. Is there anything else we need?” you ask, glancing around the table to see if there's anything you can help with, but a gentle hand on your shoulder tells you you're not allowed to help.
“You don't need to worry about anything. I got it. Here, let me help you,” Miguel says removing his hand and pulling out a chair for you. “Please go ahead and take a seat while I fix the plates, Dulzura.” Once you're sitting, Miguel gets back to the food to fix the plates.“So, are you excited to go out with Margo and Jess?” Miguel asks since in a few hours, both Jess and Margo will be taking you out to celebrate your birthday. Miguel has no idea what the plan is, though, since it's a surprise and also a tactic to get you out of the penthouse for a little while to give Miguel and the others time to pull together the party.
Back in the start of November, Miguel decided that he wanted to do this for you and because he knows how much you love and appreciate the spider gang, Miguel felt it was right to invite them to be part of the plan. Not surprising, everyone was on board and the planning soon began. Jess and Margo immediately decided that they'd be the ones to successfully keep you out of the penthouse. He agreed that they were perfect for the task because everyone else seemed less likely to pull it off.
Everything should go to plan, however, so Miguel sits next to you to enjoy breakfast with you.
-♡-
A few hours later, Miguel sees you off. He waves bye as you leave with Jess and Margo, having no clue what he's planning.
As soon as he gives the green light, everyone arrives to help.
With some of your friends working on decorating and Hobie and Pav off to pick up the cake, Miguel cooks with efficiency to prepare the food. He's probably doing a little too much, but considering this is the first surprise party you've had in years and the fact that you haven't truly celebrated since joining the Spider Society, Miguel wants to do this for you. You deserve to be celebrated on your special day, the day you blessed the world with your existence. And, him.
Taking a break from somewhere nearby, Peter looks around the penthouse as little Mayday helps with some balloons. He didn't know until a few months ago that the two of you continued to live together, even when your apartment was ready. In fact, he learned about the arrangement when you informed him that your building was sold off to some company, an update he was saddened to hear because he knows how much that place meant to you. Either way, the entire friend group and him found out about this new update that was somewhat surprising, yet not entirely.
To Peter, it's been clear for years at this point that Miguel and you compliment each other so much. So, he shouldn't be surprised at how homey the penthouse looks and feels, yet he still is because this feels different from just two roommates sharing a space. Typically, he feels like there's an invisible line between roommates, one that marks the territory as such, but here in the penthouse, Peter feels something different. There's a specific energy to the place that tells him that you've both made this penthouse a true home. He can't say it out loud, but it feels as though Miguel and you are a little family of your own.
Smiling, Peter returns to decorating, but not before taking one glance at Miguel, who is still cooking and preparing your favorite foods with so much love, it's hard to remember that there was a time in which Miguel barely set foot in his own home.
-♡-
Almost three hours later, your friends drop you back off to the penthouse. You all slip into the penthouse through a window in the living room, looking around for Miguel.
“I still can't get over how cute you guys decorated,” Margo says, admiring the Christmas tree.
“Thank you! Miguel and I love how it turned out,” you reply, wondering where's Miguel since he seems to be nowhere.
“I wonder if Miguel went out to get something. Groceries, maybe?” Jess states, saying that to purposely lead you to the dining and kitchen area, which she succeeds at.
“We have groceries, but perhaps he needed something —” you start before the rest of your friends jump out from hiding as soon as you step foot in the room.
“Surprise! Happy Birthday!”
“A surprise party?” you surprisingly state with a smile, looking at Miguel who stands in the middle back. He looks handsome in a brown knitted sweater, his hair styled perfectly as always with those little curls in the back of his neck. Even from your distance, you see the shine of your matching bracelets on his wrist. Feeling incredibly grateful and touched, you give everyone a hug and thank them for coming before you reach Miguel.
You're uncertain if you're allowed to hug him in front of everyone. For all you know, some of your friends may attempt to go for it, too, when he's only open to giving and receiving hugs from you.
To avoid any issues, you smile warmly and offer your pinky finger, which Miguel immediately hugs with his own. “Happy Birthday,” Miguel murmurs with a smile.
“Thank you, thank you. You did this, huh? Got me out of the home for this?” you ask with an amused smile.
“Mhm, I've been planning it for weeks and got our friends involved. Everyone helped in one way or another.”
“You’re all so kind and sweet, going through the trouble of planning this lovely surprise,” you answer as you take in the decorations all throughout the dining room. A decorative banner hangs from the windows and balloons decorate the walls and other areas of the room. On the ceiling, garlands with cute stars, moons, and suns in gold hang in a zigzag pattern. Even the table has been decorated with a different tablecloth and with other cute decorations. To the side, a dessert table has also been set up with various choices for everyone, including a two-tier cake. “Aww, this is so lovely. I love everything you guys did!”
“It was no trouble at all and you… You deserve it,” Miguel answers, giving your pinky a gentle squeeze. “Oh, and for food, I made all your favorites. Come, we can all start eating now.”
With that, you and your friends celebrate your birthday over the delicious food Miguel made. Laughter, conversation, and music from Miguel's record player fills the penthouse. When it's time, Miguel lights the candles on the cake, so your friends surround you to sing “Happy Birthday” while wearing party hats that Miguel bought. And yes, even Miguel put one on after he slipped a headband into your hair for pictures, which were taken by both Miguel and Lyla with the latter stating she'll be adding them to her personal file that neither Miguel nor you have found.
After a few hours, your friends say their goodbyes with nicely packaged leftovers because Miguel made quite a lot of food. The birthday decorations are left up with the promise that they'll be taken down tomorrow.
In the early evening, you sit in the living room by yourself. The fireplace crackles, its flames dancing like two lovers in the dead of night. On the windows, the twinkling lights flash on and off in a soothing pattern. The Christmas tree sits in its spot, taking the most space and attention while bringing a certain coziness only such a Christmas tree can bring.
Watching the tree in silence and now dressed in pajamas, you reflect on the day. You’re another year older and somehow, you made it unscathed physically. You’re in good health and surrounded by people that love and cherish you, so you have no complaints.
You made it far longer than you thought you would when you first started the whole Spider-Woman thing, which is a blessing on its own. The thought that it’s probably thanks to your guardian angels brings a smile to your face. Silently, you send them a thank you for keeping you safe and granting you all these beautiful people and moments in your life.
As if on cue, you hear Miguel’s steps from the kitchen, where he went into half an hour ago to do “something”. Glancing at him, you find him carrying a large tray to you.
“So…” Miguel starts, placing the tray on the coffee table before sitting down on the floor next to you. He’s also now dressed in far more relaxing clothes, which consist of a long-sleeve thermal shirt that does nothing to hide his physique from his wide shoulders to his large biceps to his chiseled chest. For bottoms, Miguel has changed into comfy sweats.
With a swallow, you tear your gaze away from his clothes and focus on the tray, which has several items.
“I thought about baking you a big cake, like the one I ordered,” Miguel admits, giving you a cheeky smile. “But I quickly remembered that I’m not the baker in this home and I didn’t want to end up wasting ingredients on a failed cake of that size, hence why I had it made at the bakery. I’m also sure Hobie and Peter would’ve never let me live that down. However, I still wanted to bake something just for you,” Miguel continues, removing a cloth towel and revealing a glass domed cake plate with a round cake inside that looks like Miguel poured his entire heart into.
The cake, which you’re certain is in your favorite flavor, has its exterior decorated with icing that you can immediately tell is homemade. Miguel opted for a rustic art style, making the spatula prints clean and intentional. Fresh strawberries sliced in half carefully decorate the edge of the cake, standing out against the icing. And, in his careful writing, Miguel has written out “Happy Birthday, Dulzura” with icing in your favorite color.
Next to the cake, two mugs of café de olla are full to the brim with the delicious and hot beverage that you crave even more with the festive season [coffee].
Looking up at Miguel, you offer a tender and warm smile, touched by his gesture. “It turned out so cute,” you tell Miguel as he takes the lid off. “So homey. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for the cake! And, you even added strawberries!”
“Your favorite,” Miguel murmurs as he pulls out a lighter. “I know you already did this, but I don’t know if you want to do it again?” he asks, raising the candles to show them to you.
How can you not when he’s gone through the trouble of baking a cake and bringing the candles with him? “I’d love to,” you answer, so Miguel quickly places them in a good place and lights them up after moving the cake closer to you for better access.
On his own, Miguel sings “Happy Birthday” to you in Spanish again with a smile so sweet and tender, it puts the cake’s sweetness to shame. When he’s done cheering, he gestures with his head. “Make a wish, Dulzura,” he murmurs.
With a soft sigh, you glance at the flickering candles. There's no need to think about your wish because it comes to you quickly, like an instinct buried deep within you. Gently, you blow the candles with that wish in mind while gazing at Miguel.
I wish, with all my heart, that you're always in my life, Miguel. Until my very last day, whether that's tomorrow or in fifty years from now.
With a smile, Miguel cheers when you blow the candle.
“I suppose I shouldn’t waste my time wondering what you wished for, Dulz?” Lyla asks, suddenly appearing out of thin air.
“We don’t ask what we wish for on our birthdays. You already know the drill,” Miguel states, turning to look at you. “Even if we’re curious to know.”
Chuckling, you look away and grab the knife to cut the cake. “It won’t happen if I share it and I’m not risking it, so… No sharing,” you explain, avoiding Miguel’s gaze as he watches you.
With a small smile, Miguel lets it go out of respect. Though… He’s curious. He noticed you staring at him as you made your wish and that, well, that makes Miguel hope that you possibly kept him in mind in your wish the same way he did for his. For two years in a row, he's asked for the same wish: that you're there with him in every single one of his birthdays for the rest of his life. So far, it seems to be working, so Miguel is thankful.
Shaking his head, Miguel scoots closer and prepares the plates. “Alright, time for the birthday girl to cut the cake. Queremos pastel [we want cake],” he says excitedly. “Hopefully, it’s good,” he adds sheepishly.
“Don’t you worry about that,” you respond with an amused smile. “It looks and smells amazing, and I have no doubt that it’s good. Besides… You’re a man of science and baking is science, so I know you got this,” you add with a little wink that makes Miguel’s heart flutter.
“Oh, is that so?” he asks softly.
“Yep,” you reply with a cheeky smile as you prepare to cut the cake.
“Queremos pastel,” Lyla says in a sing song voice. “Come on, Dulz, slice the cake!”
“Alright, alright,” you state, as both Miguel and Lyla repeat the same phrase. Once you make the first cut, the two of them clap and cheer, celebrating you. With practice, you fix two plates for the two of you.
“And, of course, I couldn’t skip your favorite,” Miguel says, grabbing one mug and placing it next to your plate. “Perfect with cake.”
Carefully, you take a sip and sigh in satisfaction, going as far as to closing your eyes to savor the flavor. “Mmm, you’re spoiling me,” you murmur sweetly. “A personal cake baked by you and then, café de olla? Spoiling me, I’m telling you. Thank you,” you add softly, smiling at Miguel. “This… This means so much to me. From the amazing breakfast to the surprise party to this,” you gesture towards the coffee table. “And, it means so much more to me that I have the privilege of sharing today with you. That you… That you’ve done all of this for me.” Still smiling, you nod to yourself. “I feel… Deeply happy and loved. And I want to thank you for that, Solecito. Thank you so much,” you whisper tenderly.
With his own smile, Miguel nods. “Dulzura… You already know,” he starts softly, lowering his fork. “You know what you mean to me, so I wanted to make today extra special for you… Always.”
“Always,” you whisper with a smile as the two of you gaze at each other for a few seconds until you can’t bear it anymore. You look away and take a subtle yet desperate sip of coffee to wash down the knot that’s formed in your throat.
Damn you and your emotional self. All you want to do now is hug Miguel really tight and sob out of love and appreciation for him on his shoulder, but you know Miguel wouldn’t appreciate you crying on your very own birthday, so you put on a brave face and continue the intimate celebration by eating the cake Miguel baked just for you.
When you’re both done eating your slices, you sneakily take an extra strawberry off the cake, making Miguel laugh. “We have a strawberry thief,” he points out.
“In my defense, they’re my favorite and they're so sweet,” you murmur before taking a bite.
“Like you,” Miguel replies without thinking before he realizes what he said. He holds his breath, wondering what your reaction will be.
Slowly, you lower the half eaten strawberry and give Miguel the cutest shy smile. It’s unfair, Miguel decides, how you dare look at him like that when you’re sitting next to him in your pajamas and the gentle glow of the Christmas lights making you look like an angel sent for him alone.
“That’s sweet of you, thank you,” you reply shyly.
“I — Yes,” Miguel responds, his cheeks growing red. “You’re most welcome. Um… Oh,” Miguel straightens up and reaches under the couch you’re both sitting against, trying to pull himself together. “I have two surprises for you,” he says, retrieving a jewelry-sized box wrapped nicely and offering it to you. “The first one. Please, open it.”
“Ooh, Migs,” you murmur as you take the box in your hands. “You really shouldn’t have. I mean… You did all of this for me already. I don’t need anything else than you and our friends being together, truly.”
“I know, but, I still wanted to get you something. Please,” Miguel murmurs, gently pushing the box closer to you. “It’s just a little something I hope you love. Please, open it.”
With a soft sigh and a smile, you unwrap the box with care until the box is fully revealed. You gaze up at Miguel one last time before opening it, finding him smiling at you with clear anticipation. He nods, silently urging you to open it. Biting your bottom lip, you open the box at last.
Immediately, your expression softens at the sight of the item inside the velvet box. For a few seconds, your lips are parted in awe as you gaze at the “little something” Miguel has gifted you. “Oh,” you murmur, as you carefully take out the jewelry piece. In both your palms, you hold a beautiful gold heart locket with delicacy. “Miguel… It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, running a thumb over the front where your nickname — Miguel’s nickname for you — has been engraved: Dulzura.
“I… I saw it,” Miguel murmurs, watching the way you’re holding the locket and the look on your face of pure tenderness. “And once I did, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. It’s pure gold,” Miguel shares with a smile. “From Mexico. I ordered it a while back to make sure it arrived on time. And, I had your nickname engraved on it, so that took a little more time. I hope you don’t mind that I used your nickname instead of your name,” he adds.
“God, no ,” you respond, looking up at him. “I love it. It’s perfect. More than perfect. It’s so lovely, Miguel, truly. I’ve never owned a locket, so this gift?” You smile with giddiness and bring the locket to your chest, looking so adorable Miguel’s gaze softens at the sight. “I love it. Thank you!”
“I’m so happy you love it,” Miguel answers, feeling more than happiness with your reaction. “Oh, and I added a photo, but feel free to change it if you want,” he says, almost forgetting that detail.
Not needing to be told twice, you open the locket and smile with so much more tenderness, if that’s even possible. Inside the locket, a picture of Miguel and you greets your eyes. It’s a photo that was taken only a few months ago when you two went out for yogurt. On a whim, you decided to take a picture for which Miguel had to significantly lower himself so his face would be in frame.
“From one of our yogurt adventures,” Miguel says.
“One of many,” you add with a smile. “It’s perfect. No need to change the photo. Thank you so much, Solecito.” Lifting your gaze, your want — no, need — to hug Miguel grows. “Mind helping me?” you ask, raising the locket.
“It’d be my pleasure,” Miguel answers, taking the locket from you and preparing it while you fix your top and hair, so they’re out of the way. With care, Miguel helps you put on the necklace. His focus wavers, however, when his fingers brush against the soft skin of your neck and to add to the distraction, there’s your sweet scent that embraces him like a warm and comforting blanket, one you never want to take off.
“Um, there we go,” Miguel murmurs once he successfully locks the locket in place. Reluctantly, his fingers move away, allowing the locket to fall naturally over your upper chest. “All done.”
With a smile, you turn back around and look down at it. With the way you deliberately run your fingers over it, Miguel has no doubt you truly love the gift, something that brings him a deep, deep satisfaction.
“Well, since you loved the locket… Time for the second and last surprise I have for you,” Miguel says with a smile after a few seconds. He reaches under the couch again, which makes you laugh.
“Am I that predictable that you knew I’d be sitting here by the end of the day?” you question.
Miguel snorts quietly as his hand moves under the couch. “No, but I do know you. I know your favorite spot is this one right here,” he says giving you a cheeky smile before he pulls out what he’s looking for.
As soon as you see the guitar, your eyes widen in surprise and delight. Miguel is playing the guitar for you on your birthday?!
“I don’t do this often,” Miguel explains as he gets in position to start playing. “As you know… I only play the guitar on special occasions… For special people,” he murmurs, slowly lifting his gaze to meet yours. “And so, I want to sing you a song, if that’s alright?”
If that’s alright? You almost scoff in disbelief at Miguel’s question. “You know it’s more than alright,” you answer sitting back. “Please… It’d mean the world to me.”
With a small nod, Miguel begins to play the first notes on his guitar, but his fingers mess up after a few seconds. Sheepishly, Miguel apologizes for the mistake. He literally practiced over the last few days while you were out on patrol and he played the song perfectly, but now that it’s time for the real thing, his fingers seem to have forgotten the notes. God, he can’t even run through the lyrics in his head after the third line. “I seem to have forgotten the lyrics?” Miguel states, sounding more like a question. He sighs in frustration at himself before a song comes to mind. It comes to him so suddenly, it feels like someone whispered it in his ear to sing it. “I can only think of one song right now, but it’s not the one I had planned to sing. I'm sorry,” Miguel apologizes, frowning.
“Migs, don’t worry about it,” you assure him. “Why don’t you sing the song you’re thinking about? Whatever song it is, I’m going to appreciate it. It’s not every day I get to hear you sing, so I’ll cherish it all the same.”
“It’s just…” Miguel trails off, his cheeks reddening once more. “The song is typically for, um, you know, people that are… Together,” Miguel explains nervously. “Romantically, I mean, but it could still apply for best friends, if you’re not uncomfortable with it? Or, I can just wait it out.”
“I don’t mind,” you answer softly. “I’ll love it regardless. If you’re worried I’ll be offended or something like that, I won’t. Trust me. If you’re open to singing it, please go ahead.”
With a heavy sigh, Miguel nods slowly and positions the guitar again. He can’t believe this is happening now, not after he practiced to surprise you, but with your enthusiasm to hear him sing and play, Miguel pushes past his embarrassment and starts to play the guitar.
Even though he didn’t practice this new song, Miguel plays the notes as if he did. Effortlessly, his fingers move with practice before he begins singing in his rich and gentle voice.
“No existe un momento del día, en que pueda apartarme de ti. El mundo parece distinto, cuando no estás junto a mi… No hay bella melodía, en que no surjas tú. Ni yo quiero escucharla, si no la escuchas tú [There isn’t a moment in the day, in which I can be away from you. The world seems different, when you’re not next to me… There’s no beautiful melody, in which you don’t appear. Nor do I want to hear it, if you don’t hear it],” Miguel sings beautifully, slowly lifting his gaze to meet yours as his fingers move on their own accord. Inside his chest, Miguel feels his heart racing as the words slip from his mouth, straight from within his very soul.
Hearing Miguel’s lovely voice, you’re unable to tear your gaze away from Miguel’s as he sings to you. Your eyes are locked on him, even when you begin to feel breathless. It’s not just that, though. A feeling in your chest, like that of flowers blossoming in May, grows with a great intensity. Under the locket Miguel has gifted you, your pulse flutters with his voice.
“Es que te has convertido, en parte de mi alma… Ya nada me consuela, si no estás tú también. Más allá de tus labios, del sol y las estrellas… Contigo en la distancia, amada mía, estoy… [You’ve become, part of my soul… Nothing else consoles me, if you’re not there, too. Beyond your lips, the sun and the stars… With you in the distance, my beloved, I’m there],” Miguel continues, unable to look away from your gaze, too. His fingers continue to move against the strings without even thinking about it. All he can do is gaze at you and sing the words that spill from his lips like a promise. Nothing else matters. Nothing else captures his eyes. Everything blurs in the background, except for you. You're crystal clear as you sit front and center, staring back at him with parted lips and your fingers clutching the locket as he almost reaches the end of the song.
“En parte de mi alma… Ya nada me consuela si no estás tú también. Más allá de tus labios, del sol y las estrellas… Contigo en la distancia, mi Dulzura, estoy… [Part of my soul… Nothing else consoles me, if you’re not there, too. Beyond your lips, the sun and the stars… With you in the distance, my Dulzura, I’m there],” Miguel sings, concluding the song with soft notes from his guitar. Ever so slowly, he lowers the guitar and offers you a tender smile, realizing only a few seconds later that he changed the original lyrics from “my beloved” to “my Dulzura” at the end. Miguel quickly rationalizes it.
He did give you the nickname. You are his best friend. No one else calls you Dulzura, except him. No one else has the privilege to address you as such because it’s his nickname for you, so that’s why he did that without thinking about it. It’s a perfectly normal change for a song that can be used for best friends, too. Surely, someone else has used it in this platonic context…
Miguel doesn’t get anymore time to worry over this, thankfully, because you’re suddenly, but gently, taking away his guitar. Confused by his own actions regarding the lyric change and now yours, Miguel watches you place the guitar on the couch to keep it safe before you hug him. His eyes widen in surprise only for a second — one single second — before he embraces you, too. His eyes close as your head settles on his shoulder, allowing him to rest his own on yours. With his arms wrapped around your body entirely, Miguel relaxes.
After everything he's been through, Miguel believes there’s a heaven and he’s certain this is what it feels like to be there.
Safe. Comforting. Heavenly.
Like home.
“Thank you,” you sweetly and softly whisper, so softly as if you’re afraid that the walls themselves can hear those words that are just for him and him alone. “That was beautiful, mi Solecito [my little sun]. So beautiful. I’m eternally grateful that we met,” you continue, hugging Miguel just a little tighter. “You’re… You’re my best friend. And I hope you don’t find it weird, but… I believe we were meant to meet and be in each other's lives,” you whisper, allowing those words from your soul to spill freely, which earn yourself a gentle squeeze from Miguel. With closed eyes, you don’t dare say the other words threatening to leave your lips; that Miguel and you are soul mates. Platonically, of course, because you two are only best friends, but still. “With you in the distance, mi Solecito,” you continue. “I’m there, too… Always.”
“Always,” Miguel whispers back, still holding you close to him protectively.
Outside, the world continues forward. The first snow of the season begins, covering every surface in white, but that doesn’t stop the busy city. Traffic continues, lights flash here and everywhere, and people go on with their lives.
Inside the penthouse, however, time moves at a different and slower pace. The lights and the dancing flames from the fireplace cast a warm glow to the beautiful snow globe-like scene that is Miguel and you embracing.
Beyond this beautiful bubble of yours, nothing else seems to matter in this moment.
“Happy Birthday, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers yet again, silently hoping that this embrace lasts just a bit longer, especially when the world seems so different with you in his arms. And, when the warmth of your body, the sweet and comforting scent that is so uniquely yours, and your divine existence inspire a beautiful melody within his heart. One so beautiful, Miguel longs to share it with you.
Note: Hiiii! I meant to do a little one-shot of Miguel celebrating Dulzura's birthday since I already did one for Miguel's birthday last year, but it wasn't possible. This year, however, I was literally like, "me tengo que poner las pilas 😭😭" (I need to put the batteries on = get it together), so here it is. I hope you guys like this because RAHHHH MIGUEL GIFTING US A HEART LOCKET AND SINGING A ROMANTIC SONG TO US??? I almost gave myself cavities from how sweet that was. (I need NC Miguel so badly😭) I was also a little selfish and greedy by making Dulzura's birthday my own (today) and I'm sorry, but...
I needed this little one-shot. 🥺
So, I hope you guys enjoyed this short update for NC, which takes place months ahead of the last official chapter (24). I just want to mention that to avoid confusing anyone. :)
That's all from me for now. Thank you so much for reading!
Alondra❤️
p.s. the little bits of romanticism in this update... Miguel and Dulzura can't beat the allegations, truly.
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