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spdrvyn · 18 hours
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this is mostly for me more than anything
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spdrvyn · 1 day
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sorry, guys... i've been spending my days studying and gaming in breaks. might not have any content until after finals week 😭
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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oh uh. scuse me. just a lil snail crossing your dash
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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first miggie sketch
♡ ∩∩ („• ֊ •„)♡
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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I cannot with this.I get that 'narcissistic' as an insult is inherently ableist but Hobie's not 'an ableist fuck',he's a fictional character and it was a one off line💀Like this just screams white,imagine hating like the first mainstream black punk character that's actually as popular as they should be and is like the blackest designed superhero ever PLUS a literal fascist killer and huge activist that took in a trans girl bc her abusive dad kicked her out........because of one line he said that was never backed up or referenced.We never should've let yts have Spiderverse ong
I agree so much with this. Now I won't deny that using "narcissist" as an insult is ableist and I can understand op being upset at Hobie for that, it's still a wild reach to claim that Hobie is ableist because of that one line. He is a fictional character who does not exist in a vacuum, he is controlled by writers who chose to make him use narcissistic as an insult. If there's anyone you should be upset with, it's the writers.
Hobie has always been shown to be nothing short of open-minded and woke and respectful of other people's cultures and identities, and promoting freedom and anarchism in general because, fuck, that's what punk is all about! Even I, someone who has a very low opinion of men as a whole, think Hobie is amazing and would love to hang out with him if he were real! He just seems like a really warm and welcoming fellow! And at the end of the day, no one is perfect, even woke and open-minded people have their blind spots, so even if we separate the art from the artist we could always say that Hobie, as someone from the 70s, isn't aware that using narcissistic as an insult is ableist, and would definitely apologize and do better. Like demonizing cluster-bs is something that is so normalized and embedded in our culture that even the most progressive and super well-meaning people can still fall prey to it. Yes, even other disabled and neurodivergent people, including those who ARE cluster-b and don't know it. Hell, I'm cluster-b and consider myself a progressive person and in the past I used to use "narcissist" "sociopath" and "psychopath" as insults because I just didn't know better. Once I did realize it was bad, however, I stopped. And the same could be true for Hobie.
If OP is so mad about it(which is fair, but still) they could always just write a fanfiction or create a headcanon where Hobie learns the true implications of using cluster-b terms as insults and stops doing it. Hell they could even hc Hobie as being cluster-b himself! But taking it out on the character and calling him an "ableist fuck", when, once again, you're all right to be upset, but that's a little bit too much. I bet if Hobie was white or non-Black this person would have patience for him and understand that it's not his fault, but the writers' faults, but because he's Black, because he's dark-skinned and Black, and alt to boot, he's a big bad scary monster who would definitely beat up narcissists and sociopaths for fun and therefore he must be demonized, attacked, and mistrusted according to this person.
TLDR OP get a grip.
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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vyn's ao3 fic reccs — went on a bookmarking spree yesterday (instead of studying oops) so here we are. please enjoy and make sure to check these creators and their lovely, lovely fics if you have the time!
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maybe things were going to be just fine? by gogoberry2 — i really enjoyed the banter between miguel and reader here! author makes miguel so sassy that it's pretty entertaining to read.
amor vincit omnia by ely__sia — absolutely gut wrenching yet wholesome knight!au with miguel. he's so incredibly broody in this one yet so, so loveable.
of apples and oranges by bloodstained fingers — it's such a simple idea yet so well-executed and all with our favorite spider-man <3 miguel's really cute in this one, i love the domesticity of it
the world is full of noise (and i hear it all the time) by music4masses — miguel and reader's relationship in this fic feels very natural. made it feel real butterflies when i read tbh! should defo check this out
there's no distance (between you and me) by dylf — miguel really showing his role and instict as a protector/caretaker in this one! the spanish also feels natural and very in place (that's coming from someone that BARELY speaks spanish btw)
because by Vesss23 — maybe it's because i like seeing miguel a little angry but who knows! this is a good fic, with some ahaha. very nice. descriptions. of miguel so go, go read it neow!!!!!
the grump & the drunk by t_lostinworlds — by far, my personal favorite. miguel is just so, so charming and handsome yet i can't even see him. the tension is absolutely palpable and the writing just makes you fall in love with him even more
just stay here with me, cariño by kuko_field — i'm such a sucker for clingly, sleepy miguel that it's so bad. this is also another favorite of mine. i have no words, just read it.
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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might change blog theme to gwen stacy if i have the time
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spdrvyn · 4 days
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Clothes swap!! 🌸
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spdrvyn · 5 days
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i stayed on ao3 the whole day yesterday so do you guys want miguel x reader fic recs...
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spdrvyn · 5 days
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OH MY HOD WHAT TTHECYRCJ WHAT TTHE FUCK WHAT TTHE UFCK WHAT THE HELL I JUST WOKE UP ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
THIS IS SO CUTE AND SWEET AND OMGGGG I LOVE IT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME ANYONE'S EVER DRAWN SOMETHING FOR ONE OF MY WRITINGS BEFORE??????? THANM YOU SO MUCH LIKE SERIOUSLY I'M HANGING THIS UP ON MY WALL ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
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FANART OF @spdrvyn ‘s fan fic “let’s be lonely together” 🥹🥹 (with OC inserted)
AAAAAA THE SECOND I FINISHED READING IT I PICKED UP MY PEN AND OPENED MY IPAD. 😭💕🤌🤌 I HAD TO- ALSO I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK 🤌🤌✨✨💕💕
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spdrvyn · 5 days
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what do you like? as in life
oh, well, i guess i like
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spdrvyn · 6 days
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i can't breaf.......
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do you think you'll be writing a part 3 to "i'll be lonely with you" ?? 👀 it's so good and i am invested
let's be lonely together — MIGUEL O'HARA
☆ there seems to be a spark growing between you and miguel, and you're forced to confront it when a heavy obstacle blocks your path.
minor angst. fluff. hurt/comfort. injuries. gn!reader. changed the formatting because it felt a little too clunky, hope you guys enjoy this one. school just started for me so i'll be getting a little busy T_T like the other "parts" in this, it can be read as stand alone.
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You were absolutely mortified when you heard the news.
Miguel getting injured was a rare phenomenon that you'd only ever see in your nightmares, however the multiverse would always find a way to make those dreaded dreams of yours become a reality.
You'd refused to believe at first, standing as still as a mannequin once Jess had informed you, but that realization had finally sunk in. Miguel was hurt, and you were away while it happened.
From what you've gathered, he got impaled. It wasn't in any fatal areas, but it's a gut-twisting incident nonetheless. You shuddered just thinking of Miguel covered in blood, but to think that a spear, a sharp piece of metal, a blade piercing through and sticking out of Miguel's side left you unsettled.
Of course, your first instinct was to visit him. No second thoughts.
God, even as you paced hurriedly to the infirmary which was all the way across headquarters, your mind ran like a coding sequence. Trying to compute what to even say once you see him.
Being too forward and asking questions straight away might get him overwhelmed, he is frail and you certainly don't need to weigh down on him even more. Yet, you also want to show him that you care, but how do you do that without confessing your feelings for him?
Oh, right. Your feelings for him.
Cross your heart and hope to die, it started out as a small crush. Very miniscule, very minute, but who could blame you? You hadn't been around for as long as Peter B., Ben, let alone Jess, but he was more than okay with your company. You considered that to be a great achievement, but you celebrated too hard on your newfound friendship. Letting it fester in your heart, boiling for more.
You had tried to embrace delusion, you had tried to be content in the illusion of simply being friends, however guilt crept up on you at every single possibility. Maybe you could push down your feelings, stay in denial, but it would be a wasted effort.
It was the little things. The ghost of a smile that you would see forming on his lips whenever you talked about your interests or practically anything not work-related, the way that his eyes relaxed whenever you came into sight, how he ran his hand through his hair during the times it had fallen unkempt to fix himself up just for you.
Although it wasn't just you who noticed his tiny habits, Miguel was ever the observant type as well. During conversations, he'd occasionally interrupt you with a detail from a discussion that you two had three months ago. You wouldn't be surprised if he knew bullshit like your mother's maiden name.
This showed up in presents too. When you just happened to be hungry, Miguel had pulled out a small box, well as small as it could get when in his hands, and handed it you. Once you'd open it, you were met with the smell of your favorite fast food place.
Even with the snarky comments about how he could easily replicate it with the ingredients he had at home, there was no ignoring the absolutely smitten smile that he wore as he watched you eat. Content, happy, and most of all: full.
You'd missed it, all of it. The adrenaline in your veins raced like a runner on a track, hand shaky as you raised it to knock on the door of his medical room. Sweat gathered at your forehead, you held your breath as it threatened to collapse. You knew had to do this.
Three knocks was all you needed, but before you could even get to the third rap, Miguel's voice spoke from inside. "Come in," it was low, but not menacing like it usually was. He no longer spoke like he was commanding a room, getting your undivided attention, low from the bottom of his heart with every word serving a purpose.
No. Right now? He spoke like he'd fallen into the pavement, instead trying to divert your attention, low from the deep pit of shame and embarrassment that he dug himself into.
Once you'd entered, Miguel looked just as sad as you thought he'd looked. Even if he still adorned the suit that made him particularly stand out from every other spider-person running in and out of this place, the suit that served as his captain's hat, the freshly patched wounds shined through it all.
"Miguel," You spoke, voice hushed as you rushed to his side. He flinches when you slam the door shut behind you before you grip the railings of his 'hospital' bed. "What even happened?"
Your eyes ran over his body, observing how the molecular fabric of his suit glitched and stuttered, the same way a TV would look if you pressed your hand against the screen too hard.
You wanted to get a good look of his injuries, to check for any sign of what the full story was, but before you could do more, Miguel brings the covers over the entire lower half of his body, including the surface of his abdomen. Looking away shamefully.
"I don't want to talk about it right now," He grumbles and you could barely even hear it, his words tore your heart apart piece by piece. Did he not trust you? Were your efforts to see something more in him for naught? "Why are you here?"
"Why else do you think I'm here, Miguel?"
The truth was that you weren't even mad at him, just disappointed. Numbers were too finite to count the amount of times you've limped into Miguel's office with a brand new injury from a mission, the amount of times you've explained to him that you'd go straight to the infirmary after, the amount of times he's demanded that you sit down as he patches up your wounds while you report said mission to him. 
Yet he was this ashamed to act so vulnerable in front of you, while you've looked even weaker in the past? It made you think, it really did. "I feel like you owe me some explanation, don't you?" You insisted, but he just shook his head.
"There's more important things to attend to right now," He begins, and it makes the blood pumping in your heart freeze over. "It's really not that big of a deal, it'll pass in a day, I promise." Lies. All of it. 
The frigidity of his words seeped from your chest down to your very fingertips, the steel railing of his bed practically turning to ice as the realization sunk in. He didn't want you to see him like this. He didn't trust you enough to see him like this. 
But why?
You wondered. So you asked him. 
"I just don't get it." One of your hands lets go of bars that way you could smooth your hair, probably the only not messy part about you right now. "I thought I was doing everything right, and it's still not enough, is it?" 
Miguel's face falls, the tense pout that he wore like a jacket being ripped to shreds as you further rambled. "Why are you shutting me out like this? What did I do wrong?" Fragile, delicate, creaking and cracking, all while on the verge of breaking. 
Was it your voice? Your tears? Your composure? No, everything. It was as if he had you in a chokehold, a slight pressure, and you could shatter in an instant. Your head immediately tilted down, facing the floor. You prayed, prayed, and prayed that he wouldn't take notice of the crystalline drops that fell from your eyes. 
But Miguel can't even bring himself to say anything and he hates himself for it, don't get him wrong though, he has so many thoughts, he's had so many thoughts about you. He felt like such an idiot for not saying them to you before, but he'd feel like even more of an idiot if he said them right now. 
That was mostly the self-defense talking, just look at you. Sure, he was the dumbass injured on the hospital bed, but you were an entirely different kind of pitiful. The strength that he'd built over the past year, to hurdle obstacles both physically and mentally, to be a leader, yet he couldn't even undo the repression of the feelings that he so coldly locked away. 
He wanted to try though. For you.
"It's— it's not for the reasons you think, okay?" Miguel stuttered, how he wanted you to look up that way he could wipe your tears, hush and reassure you, but he couldn't. Not in this moment at least. "I'm an idiot, I really am."
Now, that made you redirect your attention. A rarity it was to witness the proclaimed genius, leader of hundreds of Spider-people, to call himself fucking stupid. Your eyes were dry, but the puffiness of your lids said all it needed to. 
Miguel's face scrunches up a little, he had to be vulnerable, it was the least of many things that he owed you. "I just think you're too good for me sometimes," He sighs, 
leaning back against the pillow behind him. Gazing distantly into the small corner of darkness in the room, "Not sometimes. A lot of the time. Everyday."
A wave of warmth crashes over your chest, coursing through your icy veins as Miguel further digs himself into this hole. A hole that he'd most likely die in. "You're just so— so you, you know?"
He denotes your perplexed face and sucks in a sharp breath, bringing a hand out to rub the wrinkles on his forehead. "Fuck, just give me a second to think." He huffs in annoyance, there were often times where Miguel would be able to explain the full extent of canon evemts with no breaks in between when it came to something as simple as saying I like like you, he was more than clueless.
"I've seen this place come to fruition ever since I could even begin to fathom multiverse travel," He starts, Miguel had normally upkept the habit of keeping eye contact with those he spoke with, but right now he wanted nothing more than to keep looking away from you. "A year. A whole year."
Miguel was smart, that he could say with confidence. He was able to build machines that allowed him access to scientific discoveries that nobody else could attain, the same machines that are the foundation of everything he's built. 
However, it all really boiled down to the people. Each individual that he's recruited is special, he can't deny that. Their origins are the same, maybe their suffering alike, but it comes down to the soul, the core of their being. There's a specialty in every Spider-person that he's walked by in these hallowed halls.
Even after all of that, he just couldn't comprehend it. After seeing all of them get knocked down by the cruel humor of the multiverse, only to get back up and to keep preserving, he hasn't made a single realconnection. 
"You come in only a few months ago and it seems like everybody knows your name, knows who you are, your smile." Miguel talked and talked and talked, like you weren't even in the room. Like how he did whenever he'd come back to his office from a mission, a mission with you and Lyla would beg him for the details. 
"Yet, even when there's so many better versions of Spider-Man out there, more charming and more... likeable," Finally, finally he turns his head back to face you, trying to fight back the shame that makes him want to just shut the hell up. 
"You chose me." How could he even call himself a genius after all of this?
One of Miguel's worst fears nowadays was you being in his place, possibly worse. Dead on the dark floor an alleyway in some distant dimension, that idea terrified him a lot. He almost thought he killed you himself when you only seemed to just— stare at him, lips slightly parted and the only reassurance he received that you were still with him in this realm was the slow rise and fall of your chest. 
If this was how you felt everytime you had a personal discussion with him, he completely understood if you'd leave this room hating his guts. As each second passes at a snail's pace, that pit of anxiousness grows and grows until—
"Miguel," It's a single word, his name, his calling; the way you say it though, it makes his heart drop below freezer temperature. "Is that really what you think of yourself?"
Huh?
"Here I thought that you were pissed at me this whole time," A dry, but short chuckle leaves your throat. The remnants of your sobs and previous cries still present in the way you spoke. "I don't hang around you just for some extra validation or because you're the boss, I stand you because I actually like you?"
What?
"Have you actually never considered that? That I wanted to know you past a work basis?" You almost find the utter shock on his face humorous if it weren't how ridiculous his mindset was, how stupid he truly was. 
"I mean— I didn't—" Whatever was left of your tears seemed to dry out watching him like this, tripping and falling over his words. The walls that he so desperately tried to build up crumbling before you into pieces, these pieces that you'd admire and care for. "Fuck, I'm no good at this."
"Yeah, I can see that." All the worries that you've held so close to your heart were slowly starting to be ebbed away by the what he'd just said, maybe you were afraid, but he was to. "I can do the rest of the talking now." 
Even if he didn't make a single movement, you could tell that he agreed with you. 
His heart thumps competing the speed of a race car as you place your hand on top of his, running your thumb smoothly across his bruised knuckles. You delight in the way that subtle dark red hue settles on his cheeks. It's working. 
"I really, really like you. I like the way your hair moves, I like the way I can take a peek at your fangs when you laugh, I like the way that you roll your eyes when someone says something really stupid," It's a drawn out ramble, one that Miguel could get absolutely drunk on and result in a hangover the next morning. 
"You're not better or worse than me, we both carry our own flaws, have our own struggles," Time seems to come to a standing point when you bring his scathed hand to your heart, where he can feel how fast it's beating under his fingertips. 
"But what really matters to me is that we help each other change, to improve. You've done so much for me after all this time and I want to do the same for you ten-fold," You suck in a sharp breath. "Possibly even more." 
Miguel clearly couldn't bring himself to words right now. How could he after everything you've just confessed? Any sentence after that would make him sound like a caveman and it's not like he could afford to look like any more of a bumbling idiot in front of you after all that. 
Instead, he opts for something else. Slowly but surely, he drags his hand up to grip onto your shoulder, pulling you closer. Gently but closer. 
He notices the way that your body tenses in anticipation, your breath quickening when his gaze flickers down to your lips. 
"May I?"
Yes, please.
There was a certain softness to the way that Miguel kissed you, in a way that you'd never expect would come from him. However, the grip that he has on your shoulder tightens and surely, there's a certain desperation to how he holds you. 
He wants this. He needs this. 
You want to lean in closer. Maybe even climb onto the bed and straddle his lap so that things can go further deeper, all of these thoughts racing through your head come to an abrupt stop when Miguel hisses in pain pulling back. 
Excitement quickly contorts into concern when he retracts his hand from you to rub the crook of his neck. You swore you could see blood sprinkling the gauze that covered the wound there.
"Shit, I'm so sorry. You should—" Before you could even finish apologizing, he recovers. Practically grabbing you with so much force that your body slightly clashes against the metal of his bed, the cold steel in contrast to the warmth of his touch. 
God, kissing you felt like running a marathon or scaling a building as high as the Effeil Tower, but did Miguel care? No, he didn't. He didn't give a shit if he'd be ripping a stitch or causing a blood vessel to pop. You were all that mattered to him now. 
"Don't you dare apologize." He grits through labored breaths before continuing to kiss you with a newfound hunger and how could you not listen? 
No matter how many bandages, lectures, and battles Miguel had to go through each passing day. The isolation that had consumed his heart in a tar nobody could break, you did. When Miguel was there to save the multiverse, most of all, you would be there to save him. 
And he was more than okay with that. 
want to see more? here's my masterlist
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spdrvyn · 8 days
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need some miguel fluff to ease the pain
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spdrvyn · 8 days
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alondra, what have you DONE
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A Romantic Concert Night
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Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: A romantic concert night with Miguel, your boyfriend. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: a lot of Spanish spoken (translations provided); reader understands and speaks Spanish; pre-established relationship; artist/group is Latino; romantic and soft Miguel; intimacy between Miguel and reader; mention of love making but no actual smut; a little of protective Miguel health wise, more like caring; Miguel doesn't care about dropping money for you, mans just want to spoil you; mention of future marriage; hand kissing, hand holding; Miguel just being a romantic boyfriend A/N: Inspired by the song “Quédate Bebé” by Grupo Frontera and me going to one of their concerts last year. If anyone reading this recognizes Grupo Frontera, then you know all their songs are about love and heartbreak, so that's the vibe for the concert (I’m a hopeless romantic and so is Miguel). So just enjoy a cute, sweet, and romantic Miguel! Masterlist
Miguel and you have been fans of this music group for months now. You know all their songs and lyrics. Their music is always part of your car rides, in which you’re usually Miguel’s passenger princess, and more often than not, the two of you end up singing while he drives.
Knowing this, Miguel immediately buys tickets as soon as the group/artist announces a tour. He surprises you with them, looking forward to spending a lovely evening at your side because that’s something Miguel loves, spending time with you, his beautiful girlfriend.
The day finally arrives after weeks of waiting for your tour date. Miguel and you dress up for the occasion. You honestly can’t stop looking at Miguel because he looks fine as hell, and his cologne - it does something to you. You can’t help but smell him a few times before you even leave your shared apartment because he smells so good. Eventually you head out of your apartment and head to the elevators. The plan is to drive to the venue, so you need to go down to the building’s car garage. However, just as the elevator’s doors open, Miguel tells you that he forgot something.
“Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” Miguel says giving your hand a squeeze before he hurries to retrieve whatever he forgot. You can’t help but wonder what it is since it appeared that both of you had everything already. You shrug it off and wait for him for a few minutes before he returns with a small smile.
“Let’s go, mi vida [my life].”
Miguel drives to the concert, his fingers interlaced with yours at some points during the drive. Other times, he lays his hand on your thigh, his warmth comfortably sinking into your skin. And of course, you play some of the artist’s/group’s music just to prepare yourselves during the drive.
Upon arriving to the venue, Miguel takes care of everything. He handles the ticket situation and holding hands, he asks if he can buy you anything as he glances at the food concessions.
“Do you want something to drink, mi vida [my life]? Maybe we can buy some water bottles, just in case we get thirsty? Or maybe a snack?” he offers, leading you towards the concessions to take a look.
He ends up buying some drinks and snacks for the two of you before he leads you to your seats since the venue is accommodated for seating and the concert is a smaller one with only about two thousand seats.
A few minutes after settling down and getting your things together while you wait for the concert to start, you pull out your phone and lean into him.
“Picture?” you ask softly.
“For the memory,” Miguel replies with a smile, nodding.
He throws an arm around you and pulls you closer for the picture, but he doesn’t even look at the camera the first time. Instead of facing it, Miguel is looking straight at you with that beautiful and endearing smile of his that only you can inspire in him.
You end up taking a few more in which he actually faces the camera after you playfully remind him to look forward but even then, Miguel still finds himself looking at you even after you’re done taking pictures. He just loves you so much he can’t stop himself and of course, you look so beautiful in the outfit you planned out for weeks after he initially surprised you with the concert tickets. You’re simply a sight Miguel can never tire of.
When he does look away, however, something catches his attention. There are a few staff members walking around selling lit up objects that are typically sold during concerts like bracelets and the sort, and one of those things are roses.
Without a second thought, Miguel stands up, suddenly towering over you. He beckons one of the sellers even when you tell him not to spend his money on that. He carries on with his plan and buys you one anyway.
Other people sitting nearby simply watch with little smiles as they see the interaction because love.
Miguel sits back down and with the sweetest smile, hands you the rose. “Una rosa que no se marchitará- como mi amor por ti [a rose that won’t wither - like my love for you].”
You don’t even have it in yourself to say anything negative or even scold him about spending his money on this because the look on Miguel’s face is just too endearing and cute. You happily take the rose and discreetly give him a kiss on the cheek, thanking him for the sweet gift.
“Mi dulce novio [my sweet boyfriend],” you whisper.
“Todo para mi reyna [everything for my queen],” he replies, pecking your cheek right back, his hand finding yours because he loves hand holding.
As the concert almost starts, Miguel, being a planner and always looking for your well being, pulls out some ear plugs because he doesn’t want ear damage for either of you.
“Oh, is this what you were forgetting?” you ask Miguel as he gently slides one of the ear plugs into your ear.
He grins, a gentle hue of pink growing on his cheeks. “Yep, this was it… We have to look out for our hearing, especially since we’re so close to the stage,” Miguel says, since he didn’t mind dropping more money for seats close to the stage. He slides the other ear plug in. “There. We should still be able to enjoy the concert perfectly, and maybe earn ourselves a little headache and hearing damage.”
“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?” you ask as you take the other set of ear plugs and help him put his on.
“What can I say?” he replies, smiling. “Just looking out for us, mi vida [my life].”
Once the concert starts, Miguel and you stand the whole time. There’s not a second either of you sit down because you’re enjoying the concert so much. Like much of the crowd, Miguel and you sing the songs and even dance a bit, at least as much as it’s allowed in the space since the concert sold out.
At points, Miguel wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close and looking at you with that smile that makes you melt.
Looking at him, you can tell Miguel is loving the concert, and he is. He’s enjoying every second of the concert partly because of the music and having the opportunity to see one of his favorite artists/groups perform live but primarily, it’s because of you. Being here with you, his sweet and beautiful girlfriend, is what’s making the night memorable for Miguel.
As the concert continues, Miguel keeps stealing glances at you, his heart racing at the sight of your happy singing and sweet smile.
“¿Donde están las solteras [where are the single ladies]?” one of the group members asks halfway during the concert to get the crowd riled up.
Just to see Miguel’s reaction, you jokingly raise your hand, only for Miguel to grab your wrist and lower your hand gently. He looks down at you with a feigned grumpy look, knowing you’re just messing with him before he leans into you, his mouth close to your ear so you’ll hear him.
“No les des esperanza a los muchachos. No estas soltera. Eres mia y yo soy tuyo [Don’t give the guys hope. You’re not single. You’re mine and I’m yours],” he says, lightheartedly. His voice is sweet and tender because he knows you’re just playing around, but he still loves to say it.
You’re his and he’s yours.
You smile up at him. “Siempre [Always].”
The rest of the concert flies by and before either of you know it, it’s over. After so much singing and a bit of dancing, the two of you are starving, so you go and eat at a nearby place. During dinner, you poke fun at each other for your raspy voices from all the singing, especially when your voices go out in mid-sentence.
With satisfied appetites and new energy, Miguel and you begin the drive home, thinking the night has come to an end.
Except, you get home and upon entering your shared bedroom to unwind for the night, you find rose petals scattered on the floor in a neat path leading straight to the bed where more rose petals forming a big heart decorate your duvet. The path of rose petals is lit up by small, warm lights creating the perfect romantic ambiance. You suddenly remember earlier when Miguel claimed to have forgotten something and told you to wait by the elevator. Now you see what he had been up to.
Just as you’re about to turn around, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.
“Sorpresa [Surprise],” he whispers in your ear.
You chuckle and lean back into him, resting your hands over his arms and just melting into his embrace.
“You tricked me,” you tell him, smiling as your gaze lingers on the bed.
“Just a little. I’m glad you didn’t think much of it when I pretended to have forgotten something,” he says with a soft chuckle near your ear that immediately sends a heat to your core. “We don’t have to - you know - do anything if you’re tired,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “I just wanted to do a little something because well,” he pauses and turns you around so you’re facing him. Miguel leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. The most beautiful set of brown eyes stare into yours. “Te amo [I love you],” Miguel whispers lovingly before he kisses you tenderly, his arms still wrapped around your body, pressing you against his warmth. You kiss for a few seconds, locked in each other’s embrace before you pull back gently, a little breathless.
“Te amo [I love you],” you whisper back to him, reciprocating those two words that make Miguel’s heart swell with happiness and love.
He pulls you closer, somehow, and kisses you again. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck to keep your head close and steady, not wanting to part from you any time soon, even if just to breath.
With each passing second, Miguel’s statement about not having to do anything is thrown out the window. The gentle kiss slowly turns into something else - something desperate and hungry that leads to Miguel laying over you and countless murmured “I love you’s” into each other’s lips as he makes sweet love with you, his body worshiping yours.
A while later after your passionate love making and tender after care from Miguel, you rest your head on his chest. Your bodies are tangled up, fitting into each other’s perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. With an arm wrapped around you, his free hand tenderly traces your arm, feeling the softness of your skin.
“May I ask something from you?” he asks softly.
“Anything.”
Miguel smiles and lifts your face so he can look you in the eyes. “A donde vayas, llévame. Te prometo que no molestaré [Wherever you go, take me. I promise I won’t bother you].”
“Miguel,” you say gently, smiling.
“Por favor [Please],” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “No matter what, ups and downs, I wish to be with you because I don’t know what I’d do without you. Una vida sin ti no tiene sentido. Es como morir sin haber vivido… So I ask, quédate para siempre [A life without you has no sense. It’s like dying without having lived. So I ask, stay forever.]”
Smiling, you kiss his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, and at last, his lips tenderly.
“I have every intention of staying with you. Forever,” you whisper against his lips.
Miguel’s hand slides from your arm to your back. His fingers trace your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Thank you,” he whispers against your own lips. He caresses your face with his free hand. “I have every intention of making you happy and feel loved. I also intend on… One day, putting a ring on this hand,” he says taking your left hand and kissing the back of it.
“Oh, really?” you ask smiling.
“Claro que si [Of course],” Miguel says with a teasing smile, thinking. “Tengo mil planes, propuestas para amar, tú y yo en la soledad [I have a thousand plans, proposals to love, you and me in solitude].”
You chuckle softly, recognizing the words from one of Miguel’s favorite songs.
“Te escribí un poema para enamorarte [I wrote you a poem to make you fall in love],” you say the next lines.
“Solo quiero amarte [I just want to love you],” the two of you say, smiling.
Miguel nuzzles your face before pressing another kiss to your lips, knowing that he could spend the rest of his life like this and never ask for anything else. As you rest your head on his chest again, Miguel is filled with happiness and gratitude for the beautiful romantic evening you’ve shared together.
“We should go to more concerts,” he murmurs, his hands tracing your back again. “So I can plan more evenings like these.”
“You already do,” you say, looking up at him with an afterglow from the intimacy you’ve both engaged in, a sight that always makes Miguel feel privileged as he’s the only one that gets to see you like this. “You always plan the loveliest dates.”
“But I’d have more opportunities, mi reyna [my queen]. More excuses to spoil you, and you know I love spoiling you,” he whispers, cupping your face. “I want to give you everything.”
“I just want you.”
“You’ll always have me,” he replies, his thumb tracing your chin with a smile. “And I’ll try to give you what you need and deserve. Plus, if we can end the night like this more often - no complaints.”
Chuckling, you playfully roll your eyes. “We can have these nights without everything else.”
“¿Si [yes]?” Miguel says with a soft smirk, knowing the answer.
You nod. “Yes, no question about that. You know that.”
“Hm, I know but still… I like to build the mood.”
You laugh softly and kiss his hand. “Fine. We’ll go to more concerts. You’re already so romantic, but I did notice you were extra romantic tonight. I love that,” you tell him.
“It’s a plan then,” Miguel replies pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, whispering sweet words for your ears only before he pauses. “Ay, caray [oh, damn],” he says.
“What?”
“I forgot I have a bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries for us in the fridge.”
You laugh softly and look up at him again, amused at the sight of Miguel’s sheepish smile as he gazes down at you.
“It’s your fault,” he says, poking your cheek gently. “You distracted me with all the kisses. I forgot all about the champagne and strawberries.”
“So, now it’s my fault?” you ask.
“Yes, why do you have to be so beautiful and give the best kisses in the world, hm?” he asks, cupping your face again. He kisses you on the lips for a few seconds. “Stay here, I’ll go get everything.”
And with that, you stay in bed tangled up in bed sheets as your sweet boyfriend steps out of the bedroom to retrieve the last little surprise of the night, only wearing black boxers and fresh scratch marks on his back.
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I just want to go to a concert with Miguel, hold his hand and kiss him fr! Thank you for reading!!! Also, for anyone interesting in listening to the song, here's a preview!
-Alondra
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spdrvyn · 9 days
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Growing up is actually all about realizing people don’t inherently dislike you and it’s a bit odd to assume they do
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spdrvyn · 10 days
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he never stops her.
sketch version:
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