fayeofthenightingale

[fayeofthenightingale]

NO IM NOT OKAY! IM DEAD! IM DEAD!

I'm actually dead 😞

Bad Teachings (Pt. 19)

Older! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST ✨. Father daughter dynamics, relationship dynamics, canon character death, mentions of disease, grieving, reclusive behaviors, character study, no proofread, emotional distress.

Summary: Miguel's biggest failure as a father and geneticist.

A/N: Forgive me in advance, but my intention from now on in this fic is to make you cry ✨

Previous

Chapter's song:

There were many things that Miguel O'Hara regretted.

Not taking that extra cup of roasted coffee in the morning, taking the wrong turn in the street to head up straight for traffic, meeting that woman in that scientific symposium. Having a relationship with her and...

His baby cried in his strong arms. And it was his cue to feed her.

But this precious bundle of joy certainly didn't belong into that group of negatives. Her lovely strands of hair perched ontop of her tiny head, curious eyes staring at him, like if discovering who that loving voice she heard outside her mama's womb was.

It was love at first sight. Pure adoration a father could deliver to his new child. Her smell, her big brown eyes alike his, the soft cinnamon in her skin, her rich chocolate strands, everything about Gabriella was an absolute gift.

Gabriella O'Hara. The new owner of his heart and the best twenty eight birthday present someone had ever given him.

Her whole hand grabbed one of his fingers and it was enough to put him under her spell. His baby, his purpose and raison d'être of all his efforts, laid in his arms, curiously sleepy, and watching him. Making sure he had all the attention drawn to her with a single look.

Soon enough, time passed, morphing days into weeks and weeks into months, and each month his baby only grew prettier, more adorable and oh so sweet for him. Gabriella's mom was way too happy to not be that involved into the dynamics as she was too busy dealing with the baby blues and changes that kept coming and gave the couple no rest.

Hospital bills, house bills, broken car, pediatrician bills pilling up in the back of the counter, new projects ahead to supervise, the possible threat of being transferred to another unit in the Alchemax hierarchy and the already rocky and feeble relationship breaking even further.

Miguel was a gentleman enough to understand her condition and ease the apparent burden she always kept bringing into the sparse conversations they had, that somehow ended up in heated arguments. And he always made sure for her to understand that Gabriella was no burden. That being her father was an absolute pleasure, he could try and get her to also learn.

But her stubborn heart and mind did not accept nor wanted that. Things were bad as they were and trying to prove her otherwise only depleted his energies as usual, efforts he always preferred to waste on his baby. His Solecito.

Her laugh dissipated those grey and ominous clouds, made out of tension and harsh responsibilities over his head to go away, brightening his skies with endless laughs and hours of fun. Her love healed him.

Gabriella was that motor his life needed. The final push his mere existence craved ever since he got his priorities set.

And now that she was here to stay, there was nothing like loving her.

Miguel loved her scrunched up nose upon him feeding her something she thought smelled funky. Loved her happy wails when seeing him, adored her kicking feet when she was excited and the drooly kisses her baby always gave him before sleep. And adored beyond everything else, the smile she welcomed him with, whenever he came from work.

But he loved even more her smartness on little difficulties he purposely left her to solve. The scientist in him soared and thrived whenever his Solecito completed a puzzle perfectly, or mumbled syllables to stimulate her speak.

His baby was everything. Gabriella was the reason he kept up with her mother's antics. Sadly, the husband material on him wasn't as developed as his father skills.

He was stunted in matters of love, yet he didn't expect the woman's sudden decision to pack up her things and leaving him for someone that actually had time for her.

But in truth, the whole 'You didn't take care of me' excuse was just a ruse to cover her cheating, with a younger man that gave everything she craved and Miguel couldn't give her, as he was way too focused on Gabriella and her raising. It had been going on for a year and he recently had found out, in his thirty year old birthday.

To her surprise, her absence changed little to nothing in the already established dynamics between Miguel and Gabriella. Although the man had somehow gained the sympathies of the group, his reasoning somehow expected the blow.

Gabi's mother had grown quiet and reserved, she always grew silent whenever he got into the same room if she was speaking through her phone, and even though maternity leave had been great, her efforts for connecting with Gabriella had grown little to none.

Her role as a single father had been long assumed even before things grew evidently sour. Yet, for Miguel it was odd.

A good part of him was relieved to not carry the emotional toll since, love wasn't a thing used to describe the relationship. Sure, he had gotten the fellow scientist pregnant and was happy, but he didn't see her as anything else as the mother of his child. Love had  taken a permanent vacation from their lives as soon as the pregnancy showed up.

Was it wrong of him to think that way? To see her as nothing but a true burden? Would the people he confided in be horrified to know that he was glad the woman had finally gathered up all the courage, to leave him and his daughter alone?

She wasn't precisely bad to Gabi, but didn't make an actual effort into engaging with her own baby's healthy development. The woman fed her when she was hungry, looked after her but merely out of obligation. But that only meant he could love her twice as much.

Love, food and fun was something Gabriella had at all times. Miguel made sure to be there, recording and creating all those memories that always gave him enough strength to keep going when life turned particularly picky and overwhelmed him.

He didn't trust nannies, except Peter and his back then girlfriend MJ. So he looked up into daycares that met all the requirements he needed to work without a hitch.

Things slowly fell into place, and it became Papa and Gabi against the world.

Many women tried their best to get him for themselves but none truly succeeded. None gave him that good click that he needed in order to let a stranger into his life and risk everything he had so diligently worked on. He wouldn't risk Gabi's uncomfortableness for a slip on selfish possibilities.

He had her already. Gabi didn't need anyone else. Neither did he. Until Tempest made honor to her name and waltzed in, shamelessly into their lives.

How dared she make him feel something? How dared that woman with crazy and odd hair make him fall for her? But oh how dared she making Gabriella love her too?

It all started in one of the few times that Miguel arrived late to pick up Gabi. Traffic always proved to be difficult, but that day was extremely hard to go by.

He found Gabriella giggling and drawing with a pink haired woman, dressed up in her cleaning uniform at school. Leisurely laying on the floor, painting one of the coloring books Gabriella always carried in her backpack.

His little girl wasn't for smiles to anyone, as he always instructed her to be careful with strangers, but the sweet smile in her was undeniable. It was natural, not forced or uncomfortable. Gabriella was having fun with this pretty stranger.

Then, the woman started greeting Gabi whenever she saw her as Miguel dropped her off. His Solecito would run to her, hug her and go to class to nurture her mind. And if he was late to pick her up, Miguel would find them both painting yet another coloring book or reading.

Gabi trusted her. He soon learned.

And he also learned how to give in, and let his guard down. Without realizing, he bad been refusing other women to avoid them hurting his beloved child again like her mother did. His heart still splintered in pain upon remembering the many times Gabriella fell asleep with tears in her eyes asking for her mama.

How could he explain to a three year old that her mother did not want her? That she had left them for good?

But this woman before him, challenged all those filters he had come up with in order to avoid the same heartache in his baby once again. His heart could bear it, but he wasn't putting Gabi's in the line.

Yet, the icy walls around his heart melted, once he found her with Gabi in her arms, cooing her to sleep as she cried.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have the heart to let her cry." Said Tempest in between hushed whispers as she gave Gabi back to Miguel.

His eyes engraved every single little detail of her. Specially on the way Tempest's fingers curled underneath Gabi's thighs to tighten her grip and avoid her falling, or the way her tanned hand rubbed in gentle circles on her little back.

Next thing he knew was him asking the woman for a date, only for her to refuse him. He knew the right to do was to leave her alone, but something inside him and Gabriella asking for her, told him to not give up on her.

---

He didn't. And now a hundred of dates and dinners later, and a year of officially dating, Tempest was living with them in their new place.

The pink haired woman had helped Gabi to paint a giant G on her door, to mark it as part of her room, Tempest also helped her to set up the bed, her space and little vanity for her to play makeup, decorating it with all the ideas she had childishly drawn and explained.

Her vivid imagination always put a smile on her Papa and new Mom. Gabriella loved calling her that since her name came out as a butchered jumble of words. So she settled for Mom.

And Tempest lived up to that name. Always making sure she was properly fed, clean and having her needs met, her homework done. She took Gabi shopping, pampered her, loved her like a mother should.

And his baby thrived in her love. Couldn't it be more perfect?

He proposed. And she accepted with the condition that she'll decide the wedding day. She wanted to enjoy him and his daughter first. Make the best out of it.

And what better way to support her new family than being attuned with what they enjoyed the most?

Tempest had learned the ways Miguel worked so whenever he was too overwhelmed, she'd help him out. She also learned how much Gabriella enjoyed playing soccer, so she got her a new pair of cleats and cheered on and recorded every game she assisted.

Anyone that looked their way would assume she was Gabriella's mother, and before Tempest say otherwise, Miguel always reaffirmed her position. She was Gabi's mom and neither of the O'Hara's would have it any other way.

The return home from that game proved a dream come true. Gabriella won her first game, there were cupcakes and then pizza. Sadly, the elevator in The building was up for repair. Gabi complained about her feet hurting and naturally, Miguel picked her up.

Long fun days would make his feet hurt as well.

He couldn't help but feel a little tinge of concern on the sudden complaint. Gabriella wasn't one for aches, but Tempest's reassuring words always kept him grounded. Anchored to reality with her kind words.

"Of course she'd be sore after playing the whole day, Miggy. She's growing up and almost five!"

Even if his future wife reassured him, his intuition screamed louder. Something within told him to prepare, to always be vigilant as usual. The father in him hoped her pain to go away, even if mild. Pain wasn't something he'd put in Gabriella's bag of feelings on purpose. Because as much as he wanted to protect her from the world, he couldn't do that completely. Some things were simply unavoidable and he wasn't a hero with superpowers.

He did his best, cause what else could he do but that?

"Miggy" Tempest called as she cupped his cheeks, making his gaze to lock on her. Tenderness, compassion and understanding were something he always saw in them. One of the many reasons he adored her. Her own way to say everything was alright.

----

But he knew. He knew those pains weren't normal. He knew the sudden clumsiness taking over Gabriella wasn't normal, her walking on her tiptoes, having troubles for walking up the stairs or even simple tasks as sitting weren't normal at all.

Something in his intuition had tried to warn him, screamed even that something was wrong. That something dern had taken over his five year old baby and he had ignored it.

Not deliberately, but he had ignored it and now he was rushing towards the doctor with her in arms.

Seeing his baby fall and cry in pain as she tried to get up was one of the most painful sights he, as a parent could witness. His heart broke into a million shards when Gabi called for him, scared, confused and pained.

His heart turned into dust upon finding her on the grass, hands curled and legs so rigid, he thought she'd break.

As carefully as he could, Miguel picked up her daughter, breath hitching at every whimper and little cry she exhaled.

"It's okay, Solecito. Papa's here okay?"

But he wasn't okay. This wasn't okay. And the diagnose had to be a mistake.

He wasn't sick. Maybe fucked up in the head as Conchata once told him, but definitely not sick. Not like this.

Duchene Muscular Dystrophy. How on earth did that defective gene reached his family? The data and the many tests done in Gabriella did not lie.

Tempest wasn't Gabi's biological mom, yet...

His heart once again gave such a doleful and angry quiver as soon as that woman came into mind.

How could not he realize sooner? How could he not realize that woman was the defective one? That she was the carrier of such fatal ailment, and had polluted the best thing he had done in his life?

Damn him and his lust. Damn him and his solitude that forced him to seek a companion to mitigate it's effects on his brain. And damn him for not paying attention to the subtle early signs Gabriella showed.

"Daddy?" His baby clung to him, confused as the doctor kept speaking and spilling medical jargon, her eyes watched him with concern, her small hands felt him tremble, despite the stoic facade he was  doing his best to not break. His Adam's apple bobbed countless of times.

"It's alright, mi Sol. Don't worry ok?"

If he should've been more vigilant, this could've been avoided. Right?

His hands tightened, loosened, raked over his head, tried to pull some hairs away to see if he could match Gabriella's pain. Yet the doctor's words were little comfort. None of them offered a true solution, just little patches that did their best to cover a monster looming and following now, like a shadow, his little girl.

"We can delay the progress with corticosteroids. Some physical therapy and regular exercises."

The need to take the MD by his crisp white collar and shake him to try and make him understand that his daughter couldn't lead a normal life without feeling pain grew by thousand. Or was he the one unable to swallow that horrid pill?

How could he tell Gabriella that she was sick and she'll get worse overtime and there was no cure? How could he shatter that innocent hope that invested itself with the job of keeping him now afloat? He had to be strong, for her. Even if in his insides he was on his knees, begging and crying to however above to not let his baby go. To not take her away from him.

Tempest, bless her. She asked what they could do, what would happen next and what was the best course of action they could take, her questions were powerful, but her voice was anything but. It came out nervous and shaky. She didn't have to be a super genius to understand how bad it was. Her own journey through rare diseases had been anything but easy, yet she was the perfect pillar to hold a crumbling Miguel.

The doctor's response was the same.

That night, there wasn't the usual raucous and silly meal prepping they had for a ritual, rather solemn and hopeless faces, awash of fear and uncertainty. It didn't set right into Gabi's heart, but part of her little brain, told her to not push, since both of her parents looked at the verge of tears every time they looked her way.

Her Papa looked at her like he had done something bad, and wanted to apologize. And it confused her even more when Miguel held her in her arms like she'd slip away.

"Dad?"

And his throat only tightened even more if possible.

"I won't let you go, mi Sol."

She chuckled at the sillines of his words.

"But you have to, Papa. How am I gonna go to school? or My games then?"

His eyes turned bleary, but he couldn't break before her. The last thing his Solecito needed was another thing to worry about.

"You're right" his sob disguised as a chuckle, "I love you so much, princesita. You know that, right?"

Gabi nodded and stared at his face, wiping his eyes.

"Why are you sad, Papa?"

"I'm not, muñequita, just... grown up things that have me thinking. But I'm alright."

And they did have him thinking, he had sent a letter to every medical research facility he knew, waiting for a response. Waiting for a hopeful breakthrough that could lead him towards a clue on how to improve the medicines and slow even more the progress of the ailment.

In the meantime he could make Gabi's life as comfortable as possible even if that meant an extra effort. Even if that meant long and pricey bills from the hospital in his mailbox every month.

Money was a price he was willing to pay. Miguel would do everything in his power to make his daughter feel as normal as she could again. Even if that meant to be extra hours in the lab, sleepless nights by looking for the best treatments, even if he had to sell his old house to pay for the research.

He used Alchemax's resources to try and figure out a way to delay or stop the monster completely. Sure, the medicines Gabriella took helped her, and so did the physical therapy. Ironically, the five year old girl adored her therapy and the exercises done in them.

But the overachiever inside him had no rest. The perfectionist in his brain remained alert most of the time, even if his body begged him for a sleep.

Tempest had also her fair share of responsibilities, her job, her therapy schedules with Gabriella and her school assignments whenever she wasn't able to go due the intense pains that sometimes took over her legs.

Although the illness advanced slower and the symptoms were milder in females, that didn't mean it was equally devastating.

Gabriella could still go to school, play some bits before the pain started acting up, and neither did Miguel or Tempest or Gabriel, showed her pity. They all made sure to make her comfortable as possible.

Whenever Tempest was too busy with work, Miguel would ask for Gabriel to take his niece to the physical therapy sessions, and after every game, Miguel massaged her feet and sore little limbs to ease her discomfort. But even so, His Solecito never stopped smiling. Never stopped feeding him the hope she'd surpass the twenty five year life expectancy. That she would end up burying him.

They all put strong and brave faces in front of Gabi, but behind closed doors and away from her worried gaze, everything would crumble.

"She is doing fine, Miggy. We are doing our best and she is too."

"It's not enough. I..." He sighed, feeling his chest constricting in such a tight grip his voice came out broken, "I'm losing her, Tempest."

"You are not." Her gentle arms held him from behind as her chin rested ontop of his shoulder, "Remember what doctor said? It advances slower on girls. And who knows, we can go against all odds with it. We're doing a good job."

"If I could... I would find anything to cure her. Anything."

Tempest's heart bled and broke at her beloved's words. How she wished that thing had a cure, because seeing Miguel growing restless, more irritable and volatile before her very eyes, was everything but easy.

Was everything but good. His main focus was Gabriella, and that's something she understood to a perfect T. She had decided for the wedding to be next time Gabriella won another soccer match, but that rare disease attacked and took everyone by surprise. Ambushing the happiness and hope with the gut wrenching news.

Crushing all positive expectance to see her as the ring or flower maiden.

"We're trying, Miggy. Giving our best."

"It's. Not. Enough." He nearly hissed and it was the first crack that peeked over the relationship. Tempest could only sigh and watch him. If she could take it all those burdens from him, she undoubtedly would.

This new Miguel kept making longer appearances into their quivering home.

He barely slept, he barely ate, always in the dining room, figuring out ways to improve the medicines Gabriella received. Always holed up with his girl, telling her stories and spending time with her.

Tempest missed his gentle voice, his caresses in the morning to wake her up, the soft kisses in her cheeks when leaving the apartment and his pet names.

Hearing her own name in his lips made her spine crawl in something unpleasant. Gabriella was his sun and Tempest his moon. But now, none of those stars shone for him. If anything, their shining was dulling with each passing month.

-----

"Miguel," Tempest called, but he only had eyes for his laptop.

His fiancée exhaled and took her bag, ready to pick up Gabriella from yet another session.

"I... I was thinking in a dinner."

His face turned her way, unbelievably annoyed, as if making sure to have heard right.

"To celebrate she's gone through that crisis. We could go to her hospital room and eat there-"

"She needs to rest, not us bothering her right now."

"Please? Miggy?"

"No. Tempest.-"

"I havent seen her in almost two months Miguel! Gabriella is my child too! It's not fair for you to keep her all to yourself!"

" I'm trying to save her life!" His yell didn't make her recoil, but only added more dry bones to the resentment fire that had been slowly simmering between the both.

Unavoidable as it was, his reclusion and lack of communication had put a great strain between both. His need of control had ruined the remnants and traces of all that sweetness they had once shared. He didn't allow her to prepare her medicines, too scared she'd give less than the right dose.

Bit by bit she had been excluded from all those activities she engaged with in hopes to see her more as the illness had just advanced in an alarming rate, bringing with it new unwanted companions. Like cardiomyopathy and lung diseases.

It had been only a couple of weeks Gabi's heart had a crisis, tearing the little communication between both beyond repair. The golden bang in her ring had grown to suffocate her.

"You can only do so much for her, Miguel. That company with that CRISPR Program scammed you. Those people you trusted turned their back on you! But I'm here! I'm still here!. For nearly four years! I've been here!" Her chest rose erratically, violent with contained anger.

"Isn't that enough for you?! We've been struggling with this ever since it started, and I haven't left you or Gabriella!"

"This is not about us anymore, Tempest! My daughter-"

"Our daughter, mind you. I didn't give birth to her, true, and I fucking wish I did! But I've been taking care of that sweet child like it came from me, and it's not fair you don't allow me to see her!"

"It's not that." He seethed feeling the anger and anxiety rising up, the urge to hide in his shame growing exponentially tenfold once again.

"Then what is it?!"

"I don't want you to see her like that!" Miguel's voice broke, unable to hold the pain, frustration and tears. They had grown too big within him that looked for a way to escape.

"I'm a fucking failure, Tempest." He whimpered, broken, "All this fucking knowledge, my job, everything I've worked for is shit! Is useless! Like me, I... I thought that program would help her, would cure her..."

Tempest swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"I don't want you to see her full of... needles and tubes. I don't..." His voice hung by a thread as fat tears rolled down his weary face, paving a path for the upcoming tears.

"Don't ask me to see her, please. You wouldn't... you couldn't stand it. I can't, but I have to-"

"You don't have to do this alone, Miguel. You don't."

"You think I don't wanna go and have a simple meal with her instead of pumping her body with-" he sobbed, "With so many vitamins that have her arms bruised cause the fucking nurses can't find her veins? No."

He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, "Or see the terror in her eyes whenever those fucking needles are close to her? My little girl is terrified of needles, Tempest. She's so scared of the doctors, she begs me to... let her come home. She fucking misses you too!"

Tempest cried along with him, unable to hold back anymore. The optimism leaving her body in a go, leaving her bare, powerless to keep up her serene upfront any longer. The news had devastated her completely, but she needed to be strong, for Gabi and Miguel. But now, all those cracks had caved in, exposing the raw pain that had them fighting for almost two years against something they were fool enough to believe they had a chance against.

" You think I don't wanna take her home and play with her?! But now I'm fucking lucky if she's conscious, lucid and yet... I'm losing her." His shoulders slumped and Tempest held him.

His trembling hands anchored to her, shaking and sobbing on her shoulder," I don't want to lose her, Tempest."

The words barely a whisper and half a sob. The man before her wept like a child, and held her as if she was the only thing that would prevent him from breaking even further. His emotions laid bare to her, and she didn't judge. Just held him and kept him together.

Until she was unable to.

----

"Princesita..." Miguel called but naturally, she wouldn't respond, too sedated to even open her eyes. But it didn't stop him from talking to her, even if the only reply was the constant beeping from the machine she was wired to. Reading her living signs.

"I... I know you can hear me, Solecito." He hoped with a faltering smile, "It's you and me against the world remember?"

Miguel gulped when the movement in her chest fell. The oxygen mask fogged in her mouth.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to see Mom, princesa, but I couldn't... let her see you like this."

Even if she ended up hating me and left.

His bottom lip quivered, and he trapped it in between his teeth to keep his voice steady, biting hard enough to make the pain recede for a bit.

"Do you remember when we got those cupcakes to celebrate?" He sniffed and removed the few strands off her sweet face. Although pale, his baby girl remained beautiful to his eyes.

"I've seen a new place I think you might like. They have these... macaroons and stuff you told me once you'd like to eat."

His hand reached for hers and held her with all the care he could muster as the other one wiped his tears.

The cream colored walls of the room made his mind to grow restless. At times, the room he had been into so many times felt like a prison. Like the extension of an asylum that required his presence on a daily basis.

Sometimes that room would be filled with laughter, other times, with his silent cries. The latter had been quite the acquaintance after the crisis that nearly made him rip his own heart and offer it to his baby.

His mind was often divided in preparing to see her like this, full of needles that fed her the enough nutrients as she was too tired and pained to eat for herself. And the other part still refused to imagine a life without her, even in perils of losing her at any moment.

Miguel had used his sick days to be at the hospital for the past weeks. Peter had taken over in some times, forcing him to rest as much as his berated mind allowed him to; visiting and hoping his presence left a smile on his new found niece. Gabi always received him with an effusive 'Uncle Peter!".

Effusiveness that slowly vanished overtime, as the illness advanced throughly. Leaving her with nothing but weakened and laborious smiles.

"You're the best thing I've done in my life, mi Sol." His mouth had the strength to mumble. "And... I wished I'd done better."

The beeping kept steady. Showing the vitals intermittently.

"You're such a wonderful girl, and..." He had to pause and let another quivering breath go before picking himself up again and speak. "I'm proud you chose me as your dad. I love you so much, Gabriella."

The never ending and monotone beep echoed in the walls. His eyes turned, unbelieving at the machine. His breath caught in his throat. Unable to swallow, unable to breath.

No.

How it dared to stop? How that machine dared to stop.

His heart hammered with such strength in his ribcage that he let out a whimper as eyes were full of tears again. Lots and lots of them that escaped without his permission as panic slowly spreaded through his senses.

"Gabriella?" He innocently called, trying to fool his brain into believing it was a simple malfunctioning, machines were defective after all.

But the alarm echoing sent a cold crawl to his spine. So cold he winced.

"You'll be fine, Mi Sol," He sobbed and panted, not willing to let her hand go, as  he pushed the emergency button.

"C'mon!" He roared in between pained yelps. His baby girl, escaped through his fingers, and all he could do was to hold her against his chest, weeping and begging her to come back.

"Don't leave me too, please, I beg you. Don't leave me alone. I'll be better!"

He should've gone for the medical degree instead of genetics so he wouldn't have to rely on people. He should've had taken more time out from work, those shortcuts to come home faster and be with her.

"I promise to be a better dad, please open your eyes!"

He should've paid more attention to her complains of discomfort, he should've been better, he should've...

A flurry of doctors arrived, and pulled him out the room, nearly calling security as he refused to abandon again Gabriella's side. He screamed and begged for her, begged her to wake up, to look at him, but his world kept crumbling and all he could do was watch.

Everytime he left the hospital, he made sure to let her know how loved, amazing and a good daughter she was. Because part of him believed it was the last time he'd see her awake and alive. To still have something he could come back to.

But now, none of that mattered. As his baby was no more.

-----

"Miguel?" You called as your hands fiddled with the earrings.

The gala night had finally arrived, finally reached that peak in your agendas. Your hands stopped as soon as you watched him, sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped with his face in his hands.

"Amor?" Your voice called and he sighed, defeated but functional enough to do his tie, although the annoying piece of fabric constricted his neck, it kept him grounded.

"Hm?" He mumbled to then put his polished shoes on.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just gimme a minute and we'll get going."

He didn't face you, but how could he?

His face was smeared with tears and showing weakness before you, wasn't an option. You didn't need your night ruined by his antics.

He'd find time to let his pain away later.

"Alright."

Despite your apparent calm, the concern had been gnawing your mind.

Like the weather, Miguel had turned colder, a bit more distant, he kept the spark alive, but something within told you it was off. He was off.

His pet names didn't sound as loving as they used to. At first you thought it was due the short three months you had now been living together, wading between you both.

Responsibilities were always a staple in your daily lives, leaving few room for you to connect beyond making love at two am and a couple of sweet words.

And this... gloominess had settled as soon as the coldest months settled in. The usual long after work talks were resumed into sparse conversations here and there before he poured in his work all over again.

And when you brought it up, his replies were always a

"This project is keeping me busy, mi niña. That's all."

But again, you didn't want to turn yourself in another stress factor. But you cared, and cared deeply. More than you should and allowed yourself to admit.

You wanted him to rely on you, like he did with you. You wanted to see him happy, cause you missed his smile. Missed his jerk-ish and loving self that got slowly replaced with this silent, cold and serious copy of the man you mumbled back a También te quiero every time he mumbled it after he emptied inside you and kissed you.

But those kisses felt strange. Like they were on automatic, like if they were given by someone else.

"You know you can-"

"I know." He cut in and put on his suit, "Go get your things, we shall leave soon."

And still, he refused to meet your eyes, too focused on tying his shoes and getting overall ready.

Your hands curled in, tightening in small fist to then breathe and leave.

His hands stopped, hearing your defeated steps echoing the hallway.

Fuck

Pushing you away wasn't something he did on purpose. In fact, it came to him like muscle memory. Yet it didn't mean he enjoyed as it only meant one thing.

It was happening again. His self destructive and sabotaging behavior had made a triumphal return to his life.

And this time, he welcomed it like an old friend.

-----

@miss-canon-event @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplum2099 @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann @incustellar @taeecups @vonev @kinkybandages @del-ightfulling @tatatida @queenofroses22 @orangemango7 @migueloharastruelove @ctizu1 @vyxvi

@yeyrpp2 @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @bigbassbug @namjooningera @d1lf-loverr

@tsukkie-daisuke @brittney69 @emisprocrastinating @ednaaa-04 @cxmeiloorun7 @juneonhoth @sylveon-of-hearts

@maomaimao @m4dyy @miguelbaby @mrs-oharaxx @spiderpapi2099 @ryk-mt

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #bad teachings #wth #im sad now #i cry #huhuhu

[fayeofthenightingale]

I got so flabbergasted I had to pause the roleplay and asked the bot like it's an actual person because why did it turn green?! Even the bot doesn't know! 😭

Also yeah we've been doing the nasty for the third time now-

(the fucking filter was gone I had to take advantage of it)

#faye's monologue #miguel o'hara #c.ai #c.ai chats #atsv miguel #holy shit

[fayeofthenightingale]

So Miguel core and I would pepper kisses from his chest to his di- ckjfjdkkddndks

#Faye's monologue #Miguel O'Hara #spider man 2099 #miggy #god im obsessed with him #its been almost a year yet I'm still stick in this fixation

[fayeofthenightingale]

Bout to have a binge reading after our research defense is done

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!

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.

[fayeofthenightingale]

I've decided to contribute to the Miguel nation even though I was almost a year late

I present to you…. Brother's best friend! Miguel! A drabble…. (Might turn this into a full fic idk)

Cw: Brother's best friend trope, grammatical errors, fem reader, possibly OOC Miguel, this is more like a flashback really since it's focus is more on Miggy and reader's childhood, this is kinda long wth 😭

Bbf! Miguel who has been friends with your brother since middle school, would often play in your brother's room when they were younger. As typical boys do, they'd play video games. He doesn't mind when you want to join them. He finds it endearing whenever you try to put your stuffed animals on the Legos they built, claiming they're people or something like that.

Bbf! Miguel who defends little you whenever some mean kids try to bully you, is taller than the average kid, making him intimidating. When this happens, he stands behind the bullies, towering over them with a menacing glare and arms folded. All he has to do is say something like "scram" or "leave," and the kids your age run away. Then, when you're feeling sad or upset, he treats you to ice cream to cheer you up.

Bbf! Miguel who helps you pull pranks on your brother, sometimes he’d be surprised you were able to pull off a bit extreme pranks but he’d be happy to do it for shits and giggles.

Bbf! Miguel who helps patch up your wounds whenever you have a little accident in the midst of pulling a prank on your brother all while speaking to you in the gentlest of ways to calm you down. "can you get up? no? All alright I'll carry you then” Your eleven-year-old mind panics when he easily carries you.

Bbf! Miguel who defends you against your older brother, Leo, gets into an argument whenever he can, Leo’s older, and can handle himself, while you are 4 almost 5 years younger than them and therefore helps you whenever he can, it’s just not fair sometimes.

He stood by the side of Leo’s room, witnessing the fight between you and your brother, 13-year-old Leo yelling at you for breaking his model aeroplane. “I Told you not to come in here without my permission!” Leo huffed, “I’m sorry! I-I just want to look at it” You defended yourself but Leo wasn’t having it,” Well now look at it! It’s broken!” little you are almost on the brink of tears, that’s when he stepped in. “come on now, the wing is the only one that’s broken, I’m sure we can fix it,” he said, trying to cool down the argument, Your brother stormed out of his room to cool off leaving you with Miguel “Are you okay Chiquita?” he asked and you shook your head a small sniffle escaped you as you try to justify yourself “I didn’t mean it” little you murmured as you look up at him with teary eyes, he sighed as he took the broken plane and its wing “hey, it’s okay yeah? Leo just needs to cool off, with the help of a super glue I’m sure we can fix this” he reassured you with a little ruffle on your head and grabbed the super glue to fix the broken model plane with his best friend’s little sister.

Bbf! Miguel got his heart broken for the first time because the girl he’s been crushing didn’t like him back because he was “too nerdy” for her liking, Leo brought it up during dinner when your mom asked how your day went and you were saddened for him, who wouldn’t like Miguel? He’s kind, understanding, and funny, he may be too intimidating because of his more-than-average height but that’s his outside appearance! He’s really sweet on the inside… wait…. Why are you thinking like that about him? Nevermind that.

Bbf! Miguel showed up the next day at your house since he and Leo needed to finish a project that’s due tomorrow, eyes puffy and a bit dishevelled from crying, you felt bad despite your brother calling him out that he looks like shit. Miguel didn’t deserve this, so you, the ever loving little sister of his best friend decided to go buy something for him.

Bbf! Miguel who walked out of your house to head home since the project they’ve been working on is finished, “Miguel!” you called out to him with a small paper bag in hand, you catch up to him panting heavily, have you been running? You held out the small paper “Umm.... I’m sorry about what happened yesterday… Leo told me… I mean he told mom when she asked how our day went” you rumbled, you were too busy making sure the treat in your hand stayed warm that you haven’t thought about what to say to him! “… anyways theseareforyouIhopeyoufeelbetter'' you said rather too quickly and before he could say anything you ran away and inside your house too flustered to face him, he took a peek inside the bag and a small smile was painted on his lips, warm empanadas from his favourite store, oh how sweet of you…

Bbf! Miguel who's taken the rejection to heart, maybe much of a nerd after all and that needed to change, so day by day he changed himself, no longer wearing those thick-framed glasses instead he opted for contact lenses, the baggy shirt that has corny science jokes were now nowhere to be seen and he's even doing a little workout to build his tall lanky body, of course, this was never unnoticed to you, who wouldn't notice your brother's best friend slowly gaining muscle and lean body type? You're happy for him of course but a part of you hoped that he did it because he wanted to and not because he's pressured by society's views of him, you like the nerd him? he's cute!

Bbf! Miguel who's never seen you so down in the dumps before, usually your beams and silliness can rival the sun itself but now you're gloomier than the night sky. He asked your brother about it and he didn't expect the reason for your sudden gloominess.

“Ah, she's just upset because no one gave her a Valentine's gift” your brother nonchalantly said as he played on his computer, his series of curses from losing the game was blurred out and in his peripheral vision, he only saw you, without saying any word he left your brother's room and approached you. You can hear the low vibrato of his voice as he approaches you “Hey” he greeted and sat down beside you “You okay?” he asked with his usual gentleness and you looked at him “I don't know… do I look okay?” you mumbled sassily which took him aback but sighed “I… I don't even know why I'm upset, it's just a silly day, it's not even a holiday! it's just a stupid day to have an excuse to ask your crush out or chow down chocolates” you mumbled bitterly, really it's a childish thing to be upset about something small like this, but Miguel didn't think so, no, he’s been there and he knows how it feels, Miguel didn't say anything but pats your head gently, his way to console you.

Bbf! Miguel who had surprised you on a random Friday afternoon with a box of your favourite chocolate and a pink coloured rose “Here” he said as he handed you the gifts, your eyes widened in surprise but took them “What's with this?” you asked but he shrugged in response “For you” he didn't show but it was amusing to him (and kinda cute) to see the sparkle in your eyes shine although it was short-lived “you didn't have to do this you know?” you mumbled, as much as you appreciated his effort you didn't want him to do that out of pity, again your brother's best friend shrugged “It’s not out of pity, it's for you, pink roses for appreciation" and that got you thinking “appreciation? for what? what did I do?” you asked him genuinely curious as to why “just existing, we've known each other for years-” “but I'm not your best friend” you cut him off “who said you have to be my best friend for me to show you my appreciation?” he asked you and in turn you weren't able to say anything, too surprised to utter a single word. He called your name softly, “I appreciate you, not because you're Leo's sister, but my friend, one of the closest, as embarrassing as it sounds but I cannot deny the truth, you have a certain charm I'm drawn to, you make me smile easily, you understand me, and don't tell Leo about this but at least with you I'm slightly more comfortable” he said with a small smile.

Before you could say anything Leo called out Miguel's name and he left right after, a hand on your chest to ease the beating of your heart and butterflies on your stomach. And in that moment, you realized you had fallen for your brother's best friend.

----

Omg why is posting stuff online so anxiety inducing?! Anyways Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! If you have feed backs I'm more than eager to hear them (just be kind please) 🩷

#Faye's fairytales 🪷 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

[fayeofthenightingale]

Next time it's not gonna be his car I will ride but his d- I'm sorry what?

TOO SWEET

summary: you join a small ride along with Miguel...

content warning: once again, taboo content; proceed with precaution. semi-exhibitionism (miguel fucks the reader in the forest and on his car), brat-taming, rough yet soft dom! miguel, OOC CHARACTER MIGUEL the reader has nipple piercings, unprotective p-in-v (please, do your own research when it comes to stuff like this), cigarette usage, a little TABOO, AGAIN.

word count: +3.2k words

author's notes: thank you @lemon2099 aka @sweetlemongrove and the discord server for the encouragement to keep writing 💜. Y'all are my mini family and I love y'all so much!

PART TWO TO GATITA

Miguel found him a stray cat, you unironically. Once he gave you a lick of attention, you came back for more, the same way a stray cat would whenever a stranger gave it food to eat out of pity. It felt pathetic that you would conjure up any excuse to see him again. Changing your car’s air filter, replacing your windshield wipers, hell, even trying your best to act dumb to simple repairs that you can do on your own. It was almost laughable and pathetic for you to do this, but you couldn’t help it.

The man always made you melt and become sap, like warm honey on a cold kitchen counter—no matter how much you wiped it off with a paper towel, the stick and sweetness lingered behind. But it didn’t take long for Miguel to catch on—the man was intelligent, for God’s sake. It was clear as day as you always took your shitty 1970 Chevy S-10 everywhere, and he would always recognize that iconic blue truck every time you pulled up for a simple repair. 

But the innocent visit was about to fall short as the excuses to see him began to fall short. So he decided to change things up, taking you out on a late-night drive.

“M-Miguel!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, clutching onto the glove compartment of the Impala, nearly snapping the fake acrylic nails off your actual nails underneath. “Shhh… You can take it, princesa.” He pats your thigh lovingly before lightly slapping the soft flesh. “Miguel, Miguel!” Your voice fell on deaf ears as you felt the wind knocked out of your lungs.

“Nothing wrong with going a little fast.”

Yep, you've accepted your faith that you were going to die from some freak accident with an extremely hot mechanic next to you. “But it’s so fucking fast!” You screamed out, clawing at the car's dashboard with your nails. Miguel glances over, chuckling at the sight he sees. He could have sworn that if you wanted to, he would have seen some parts of the acrylic break by how strongly you were grasping the dashboard before you. “But we’re barely hitting 100, princess.” 

“What?” You whined, not believing his words, as it felt like the Impala was going faster than that. “Don’t worry, we won’t be on the road too long. I need to make a pit stop. Let’s tame that little heart of yours.” Miguel chuckles before taking an exit off the freeway, finally giving you a sense of relief in your veins. “Oh, thank god, thank god…” Your exasperations never failed to bring a smile to Miguel’s face as the Impala pulled up to a nearby gas station.

The white, bright lights at the gas pumps created an ominous aura in the space, but the ambiance of familiarity filled your soul. “C’mon, let’s get something to drink before we arrive at the meet, okay?” With trembling legs similar to those of a baby deer newly born, you stumbled out of the vintage car, clutching onto the vehicle's door. “Okay, I’ll catch up soon…” 

Miguel walks ahead, stepping into the gas station while you stagger behind, taking slow, steady steps to the building. “Coming, muneca?” He calls out, holding the door open for you as you stagger in, feeling the cool, icy breeze against your sticky, sweaty skin from the summer heat. “I’m coming, I’m coming…” You mumble, stepping into the gas station to grab a small drink. 

After taking a sip of the cold beverage, the sight of the forest slowly came to mind as the corner stores and gas stations slowly began to fade behind you. This late-night drive became nonetheless soothing, nothing but the long road ahead, along with the low ambiance of music and the car’s engine. 

/

His hands grasped your wrists, and you felt his calloused hand engulf your wrist almost. “Please stay still, hermosa.” He croons to you. With his free hand, his touch roamed over your body, occasionally letting his hand caress your curves, soon letting his hand grope your breast gently before rubbing the side of his thumb against your clothed nipple, lightly grazing the sensitive bud. Your back arched slightly, moving your back away from the hood of his car and towards his body. His hand lets go of your breast before tracing your figure slowly. His hand raised your skirt slowly before seeing what awaited him. 

The gusset of your underwear decorated a thin, wet line before him. “Seems like you were anticipating for this to happen?” Without letting go of your wrists, his free hand went down to your clothed entrance to trace the soaked, thin line with the pad of his thumb. A soft groan escapes from the back of your throat before his fingers forcefully grasp the gusset and move it to the side. “Do me a favor and don’t move, okay?” He lets your wrist go and gets down on his knees to see your fluttering, aching core. “Be still, okay?” He whispers, raising your skirt more, letting it rest on your stomach. Nodding to his words, you laid back on the low rider and waited anxiously. 

The sound of fabric ripping filled the space, causing you to look down. The man ripped your underwear, specifically from the gusset, vertically with precision. At the sound, you propped yourself up on the car's hood and looked down. You can only see his soft, wavy brown hair between your legs, leaving so much to the imagination. “I’ll get you new ones, hermosa. Don’t worry, your pretty little head.”

His middle and ring fingerpad lightly traced the entrance of your folds, gathering the clear slick. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking off the clear arousal you left behind, and scooted you closer to him, dragging you down onto the hood of the car, bringing you down to his lips. “Miguel-” You panicked before his nose bumped into your clit. Your hands grasped his thick, wavy black hair, not following his words or demands. “I told you to stay still for me.” He demands, grabbing onto the back of your knees with a grasp that can be mistaken for alligator clips used to jumpstart a car.

“Sorry…!” The apology fell on deaf ears as you mewled to his tongue, licking a long strip on your entrance, letting the flat of his tongue rest on your clit. “Now, stay still, and don’t leave a mess on the hood of my car.” He gruffs.

“I just got this shit painted, princesa.” He pauses before giving your entrance a test lick before delving into you. You seethed through your teeth, feeling his mouth delve into your entrance. The bridge of his nose occasionally bumped into your clit, creating the perfect amount of friction for you to squirm your hips closer to his nose. “You poor thing…” He mumbled before licking a long strip of your core with a flat tongue. “You want it?” He croons, pulling away from your aching entrance. Your fluttering hole ached for his company again, the same sight he saw for the first time months ago. “C’mere…” He grasped onto the back of your knees, sliding you down the hood of the Chevy before your bare cunt made contact with his clothed erection. The heat from his bulge is almost too irresistible not to grind against his aching package, waiting to be accessible under your hands and control. 

You looked up from where you were lying down, and the sight before you was a sight you didn’t want to erase. Miguel kept his grasp on you but grated the aching bulge against you. “Please, please, please.” You lingered on your last plea, reaching down to his belt buckle, poorly attempting to unbuckle. “Hold on for a moment.” His hand gently grasped your wrist and moved it away from his bulge. “Let’s prep you for a moment, okay?” You nod with a breathy sigh and lay back, expecting to feel his tongue, which you don’t mind. 

But something else entered, enough for you to roll your eyes back in ecstasy and to scream out, allowing your voice to echo in the forest. “I know, baby, I know…” He quiets, planting soft kisses on your temple, keeping his ring and middle finger around your rapid, wavering walls. The soft grinding motions drew out soft mewls from you, enough to soak his fingers almost immediately. 

“Let’s raise this.” With his free hand, he reached to the hem of your shirt and yanked it up with vigorous force. The sight of two silver dumbbells was the first thing he saw before him, showing off the sensitive buds. “I didn’t get to see these last time…” With a careful hand, he caressed the soft mound before directing his attention to the sensitive nub, tracing the pad of his fingers around the areola. 

He lowers his head down and takes in a sensitive nub into his mouth, allowing his tongue to trace the silver jewelry along the sensitive nub. “Give me a second…!” You mewled out, feeling his teeth lightly tug at the barbell piercing but letting go. “I’ve heard that saliva is a good stimulant to heal this type of piercing…” He mumbles before suckling onto your nub before his fingers slowly thrust into your aching core, awaiting to be stuffed and abused. “Oh shit,” You paused, taking in a shaky breath, feeling his calloused fingers massage your gummy walls. “Oh shit…” You repeated, soon taking labored breaths. “C’mon, princess…” Miguel whispers as he pulls away from your nipple and moves to the other, keeping his fingers at the same slow pace. “Tell me… tell me that it’s too much…” He croons. “Is it too much, princess?” 

“No…” You bluff, feeling like a puddle of sap against his fingers at the slow pace. “No? Let’s pick it up, m’kay?” He innocently asks, slowly increasing the pace and curling his ring and middle finger. “Miguel…” You whimpered, at the brink of finishing all over the hood of his Impala. “Don’t even think about it, princess,” Miguel commands, picking the pace up. A yelp escapes the back of your throat, and you soon feel your legs tremble against his hold. “Please, please, please…” You whine, feeling a bit of anticipation to gush out your release. “Don’t,” He croons. “You better not finish. I finished the paint job on this car.”

You looked up with pleading eyes at the brink of tears. “Please, please, please…” You continue the mantra, knowing you are getting on Miguel’s nerves now. “No.” He demands before the familiar, wet slapping noise fills the space around you. “Is it too much?” He pushes the question again, letting the forest area get overwhelmed with a wet slapping noise. “No.” You repeat, too stubborn for your good. “I refuse to believe that. Look at you.” 

He paused his words and kept up with rapid motions. “Milking my fingers, your legs trembling under my hold, I think your body says otherwise.”

“Don’t finish on this car’s hood.” He repeats, keeping the same motion and pulling his fingers out of your aching core.

/

Miguel’s Perspective

The look on her face is enough to laugh at. Pathetic. The look on her face made it look like she was a stranded kitten left in the rain, wanting to seek shelter in a warm space away from the cool air of the piney forest. But that wasn’t the case. She was laid out on the hood of my car like a dish served on a silver platter, waiting to be devoured and consumed. Her nervous but anticipated look is enough to send me to the edge. The urge to just take off my pants and to make her drunk on lust came to mind immediately, but no, she needs anticipation and patience other than lust. 

The sight of her glistening arousal coating my fingers soon drizzled down onto the hood of the Impala. “I told you to hold it in.” I fumed, seeing the glistening arousal pool onto the hood of the car, creating a small puddle. “God, you can’t even do this one thing correctly.”

I yanked her aching core down to my bulge, seeing her glistening arousal coat a thin layer on the denim of my pants. “C’mere…” Her hands rush down to the belt buckle of my pants, moving in a manic manner to free my aching cock free. “It’s yours. You know what to do with it.”

/

“I don’t…” You replied, playing coy with his words. “I don’t know…” Your hands grasp the band of his boxer, yanking on it playfully. “You know how.” He croons as your hand yanks down his boxer briefs, freeing his aching cock. A low “fuck” escapes him deep from him, and it is enough for you to finish everywhere on the hood of the Impala, literally. The pink mauve-colored tip ached for your attention, showing tiny beads of precum accumulating on the head, with some sliding down his shaft, specifically tracking a prominent vein. “C’mon, you know what to do.” He repeats, wanting you to initiate these events instead. 

With a forceful grab, you lead his tip to your aching core and grind it against your aching core. Your core began to kegel against the sensation of his length, feeling it rub against your clit gently. “Don’t tease me,” He insists, bucking his hips, feeling his cock free itself from your grasp. You grasp onto it again, guide his tip into your aching core, and slowly guide him in. “Shit…” You whimper, feeling the familiar pressure push up against your aching core. 

“How do you feel bigger than last time?” You whined, slowly sinking into his length. “Take deep breaths for me, m’kay?” He hums, mused by the sight before him. “I know it’s a lot, baby, I know…” You take in deep breaths while he ground the tip against your cervix, to the point where it did hurt a little, but it was pleasurable. “Take your time, it’s okay…” He croons, moving a hand down to your clit, lightly grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves. A breathy whimper is the only response he receives from you. 

The soft kisses against your temple are enough to ease you as the soft kisses make you giggle underneath him. “That’s enough,” He breathes out, soon grasping your hips with his hands. “Are we okay?” Miguel questions, allowing his thumb to trace the skin on your hips, specifically the stretchmarks painted on your soft skin. “Yeah, I’m okay…” 

The slow thrusts slowly came to a steady pace, allowing you to get comfortable with his size. Soft mewls and whimpers escaped from the back of your throat as you laid back on the hood of the car and felt your breasts bounce a bit from the thrusting. The sight of the silver barbells decorating your nipples while your breasts bounced with his tempo displayed the sight for him. “There we go, you’re getting used to me more now…”

The feeling of the virgencita charm from his necklace lightly booped your nose, occasionally touching your lips, staining the golden charm with your lipgloss. “Is this bothering you?” He chuckles, seeing the charm bump against your lips and nose. “No, not at all…” It was a bluff; the sensation of the chain and charm tickled you while you chased the sensation bubbling against your core. 

“You’re almost there?” The slight bulge in your stomach amused Miguel, seeing the bulge appear and disappear with every thrust. He lets go of your hip with one hand and pushes his hand down onto your lower stomach while keeping a steady yet hard pace. “How does that feel?” He questions, looking down to see your reaction. “Yes…” You breathed out, not giving him a proper answer as you squirmed under the pressure rise. 

“C’mon, I know you’re almost close…” He praises, bullying his tip into your sopping cunt, no longer worrying about the hood of the car or the paint job that he’s been telling you about since you two arrived at an odd location in the forest. “Finish with me, come on…” He pushes, not caring how loud the two of you are. “Please, Miguel…” You scream out, no longer pleading quietly. “Finish with me.” He croons.

The chase slowly came to an end as the sudden splurge of you squirting everywhere on the hood of the Impala, following along with Miguel cradling you close in his arms, finally giving you a couple of last thrusts into your core. “There we go…” He mumbles, placing a shaky kiss on your temple and slowly pulling out. Your whine greeted his ears as he pulled out his softening cock, and a thin white line at your entrance decorated your cunt, no longer empty. “There we go, keep it in there.” You felt as if your body took a screenshot from laying on the car's hood while the sound of clothes ruffling and a belt clinking filled your ears.

The next few moments felt blurred. You felt Miguel help you off the car's hood and straighten out your now-ruffled top and skirt. “I don’t need anyone else to see you like this,” he mutters before making his way to the vehicle's passenger side. What are you doing?” You huff out, leaning against the side of the car for support. “Give me a moment,” he continues to rummage around before he grasps a small red box in his hand.

“Do you fuck with cigarettes?” He questions. You weakly nod, slowly coming down from your high. “Do you mind which brand?” The sight of the Marlboro flashed your eyes before Miguel nudged the box gently, allowing the two cigarettes to slide out a bit, enough for you and Miguel to grab. You grabbed the cancerous stick and placed it between your tinted pink lips, smeared with pink lipgloss at the corner of your lips. Reaching into his pocket, the lighter looked tiny in his grasp as he flickered on the measly lighter. 

“Here,” You reach for the small lighter and take it from him with a gentle grasp, soon flicking at the small wheel. After a couple of flicks at it, the small flame appeared, emitting a tangy orange close to your hand, soon flickering along with the breeze. “Oh…!” You shield the small flickering flame with your free hand, allowing the flame to flicker about before settling its movements. 

As he took a deep breath, Miguel reached for the small flame and brought the cigarette closer to it. Without removing the cigarette from his lips, he leaned down towards you and used your flame to light his cigarette. As he did so, he kept his gaze locked on yours, retaining eye contact for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes. His eyes are like embers of fire waiting to be ignited again, waiting for the next moment to be triggered. 

“Here…” He grabbed the cigarette and pulled it away from your lips as he inhaled his cigarette slowly. Wary of the lit cigarette between his fingers, he gently grasps your chin and kisses you while exhaling the smoke into your mouth. He slowly pulls away from the soft kiss and lingers eyes on you.

For a moment, there was a glisten in his eye when they softened; it didn’t go unnoticed…

Tag List:

@mybvalentine @famousscattale @lazyjellyfish300 @ohara-whore @miguelzslvtz @queerponcho @improbable-outset @snails-doodles22 @koko-1025 @miguelhugger2099 @hyjionie @ugh-ok-fiyn @hwasoup

#miguel ohara smut #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara

[fayeofthenightingale]

Something happened to me reading about him being hungry for my breast- 😞🩷🩷

I just love it when Miggy appreciates titties 🥰

Pierced Perfection ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: Breast play and fondling, Miguel goes crazy over your nipple piercing, leg humping, MINORS DNI!

A/N: Thought about nip piercings which turned into thinking about how Miguel would react to them so here we are. Enjoy!

“Baby, can you come here for a sec?”

Miguel came into the bathroom at your call, “Yeah?” He noticed you covering up your chest with your robe and his brows lowered, “What's wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reassured him with a smile, “I have a surprise for you.” He gazed at you in question, watching you open your robe.

Two red stones caught his eyes, dangling from a silver ring that enclosed around your nipples. The piercing fit perfectly on your body, as if it was made for you. Miguel couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Wow. They look great.” He got closer, “When did you get them?”

“Around noon.”

You had discussed the idea a few times about getting nipple piercings. A couple of designs on the internet caught your eye and you thought it would be a good idea to get one. Your husband liked the idea as well. The two of you did research on the healing process, understanding that it could take up to 6 - 12 months for you to heal. In some people's experiences, it was much longer. Almost 2 years. You were a little worried about that, unsure how your body was going to react. But you wanted them. So you got them.

“It's just been tingling a little but it's not so bad so far.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed again, “Tingling is okay, right?”

“Yes.” You provided a pat on his shoulder for more reassurance, “The artist told me that's normal and it shouldn't take too long to go away.”

He nodded at that, eyes still going back to your exposed chest. Miguel’s hand twitching at the idea of wanting to touch them. Your breasts were one of his favorite parts of your body and you couldn't help but have a twinge of guilt at the unexpected surprise.

“I'm sorry. I should've told you when I was going to get them.” Your lips formed a pout, “So you could prepare.”

“No, it's okay.” It was his turn to reassure you with his gentle hands on your arms, “It's not the end of the world that I can't touch them-”

“Well, you can touch. Just not right now.” You clarified, “You can’t suck on them now though.”

“Oh.” Miguel took a moment before clearing his throat, “I'll be fine. I can give more attention to other parts of your body.” You smirked when his hand squeezed your ass cheek.

Miguel stayed true to his word, not providing any additional stimulation by mouth or touch while you were healing. Your man had amazing self control, even when it came to sex. He tried to stay away from making contact with your breasts. Not wanting to hurt you. If he was really feigning for them, he'd place his head between the valley of your chest. Warm tongue licking up the crevice, causing you to shiver.

You knew he truly liked them by the way he stared with fascination. Crimson eyes reflecting back at the jewelry with a semblance of similarity. How a distinct feature of him was also on you. It was a little embarrassing when he asked for a picture of your breasts. His reasoning was so he could look at them while he was at work. You were no stranger to taking pictures like that and sending it to him. But somehow your mind created a scenario of an innocent spider coming in to see your unseemingly naughty picture on display.

It was a big day when Miguel found out he could finally touch them.

You were extra careful in cleaning your piercings, knowing you were going to clean them again once your husband finished fondling. He placed you on the counter in your bathroom, your shirt pulled up above your chest. No bra as you were still trying to get used to your nipples brushing against the padding. They've been extra sensitive since the procedure. But you also haven't been touched like this for 4 months.

“Be gentle.” You warned, “I'm still a little…”

“I got you.” Miguel kissed the top of your breast. As a test, he motioned his thumb against the jewel. That simple motion causing shockwaves throughout your body. You bit your lip, already missing the feeling. He did it again with your other breast and you sighed in bliss. “You okay?”

You hummed, “Feels good.”

Miguel grinned, placing his palm against your nipple, creating a gentle circle. You gripped his shoulder to keep steady. Low moans escaping your lips from his touch. He stood in between your legs, watched you whine and whimper for him. While his hands carefully rubbed you. The large palm hitting a right spot on your nipples that made you squeeze your thighs around his waist. He silenced you with a kiss, drinking up your sounds of pleasure underneath him.

You pushed your chest against him, begging for more under his hold. Only for him to pull away, tugging against your bottom lip.

“They feel nice.” His voice low, eyes filled with lust.

You leaned forward again for more but he dodged your advances, chuckling. You purse your lips, hunger in your eyes. “Just nice?”

Miguel flicked your nipple, causing you to tremble, “Just nice.”

You wondered if you made a mistake in getting your piercings. Because your husband was very touchy. Even though he couldn't taste you yet, he loved playing with your breasts. Running his fingers over your erected nipples casually. Gently pinching them. Teasingly flicking the jewelry. He'd always ask if he could touch them, still considering himself as being a gentleman. Who loved playing with your boobs.

He was going to be ecstatic when he found out he could taste them.

You were feeling great one day. Your nipples healed up nicely after almost a year. You thought it would be the perfect time for Miguel to place his mouth on you. And you were also going to clean it later to be sure.

If he had a tail, you would see it wagging. His eyes lit up when you told him on a call he could finally place his mouth on them. Whenever he was ready to do so.

That meant now as he portaled back home, hovering over your body in bed. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute.” You sat up, holding in your laughter. “Don't you still have work?”

Miguel sucked his teeth, “It's not important right now.” He got on his knees, hands gripping your sides. Desperation clouding his eyes. “Let me taste.”

How could you say no to that?

You pulled up your shirt to tease but your husband demanded to take it off completely. So he could have room. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest, practically heard in your ears. Miguel licking his lips in anticipation. You closed your eyes as you felt his breath against your breast, gripping the sheets to stable yourself.

A whimper escaped when Miguel's tongue flat against your nipple. Done in a way where the tip swirled around your ring, sending sensations throughout your body.

“Finally…” He groaned while sucking on your nipple with care, “I missed this.”

A firm hand rested on your back before pulling you closer. Miguel provided extra care to your nipple, practically almost putting your entire breast in his mouth. He moaned as if he starved. Wanting to keep you there as he finally got what he was denied for almost a year.

Your whimpers turned into full out sounds of pleasure as his fingers twirled your other nipple, his nail scratching along your areola. He kept you in place, making sure you never wandered off far. Your husband was still in his suit as you felt the material against your leg. While in his pursuit of tasting you, you felt his hard cock. Hips grinding slowly against your leg. Muted groans along your breast.

“Tan bueno (So good)…” He muttered, “Sabes tanto (You taste so)…”

Miguel rutted against you, his tongue and lips taking turns messing with your nipples. His hard thrusts shook the end of the bed. Causing you to hold on to his body. Your hand deep into his curls while the other was on his shoulder. Gripping him tight as he continued. Grunting and groaning before suddenly stilling. He was cumming against your leg.

His mouth parted against your nipple as he came. Those crimson eyes rolling back in his head. And all you could do was watch. Tug against the strands of his hair to prolong his orgasm.

“You really missed them, huh?” You asked when he calmed down, his face still buried between your breasts. Panting against them. All Miguel did was nod, hugging you tight.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #i wanna say something unhinged

[fayeofthenightingale]

hear me lord 😞

Me praying to god for Miguel to be real:

#miguel o'hara #miggy #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel

[fayeofthenightingale]

Get to know me!

ʚ♡ɞ I'm Faye!, and I use she/her pronouns

ʚ♡ɞ 🇵🇭, the embodiment of OA and Lutang

ʚ♡ɞ I'm 19 years old so expect most of my post non-kid friendly, MDNI!

ʚ♡ɞ emotionally unstable Psych student (dw I'm working on myself)

ʚ♡ɞ usually a reader, sometimes a writer, and I'm trying to get back into drawing

ʚ♡ɞ I live for "x reader" stories, they're a form of self care for me

ʚ♡ɞ INFJ

Feel free to talk to me with any of your interests! I'd love to be friends with you guys, I believe everyone is capable of kindness. Let's interact with kindness and respect, making this blog a safe and welcoming space for all.

#pinned info #faye's space

[fayeofthenightingale]

Ohhh... Ohhh my heart 😞💖 the little talk with baby at the end? 🥹💖💖

Bro I'm not okay, my heart reaches out to reader, may Miguel suffer the consequences 🙏🏻

Chapter 8: As it Lies Severed All Ties With It's Kin

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Violence, physical aggression, mentions of blood, character background, depictions of therapy, emotional distress, mentions of cheating, Strained family dynamics. Character study and introspection, no proofread.

Summary: The last blow is delivered. A new step is given.

AN: So nervous for this chapter. And Ahhh, finally hehe 🤭. Hope you like!

Previous

—Hey

The seen icon had remained there, unchanged within Peter's chat log. It had been a month and a half since that unexpected confrontation happened back at Peter's home.

And a month and a half since silence kept stretching between them.

It was clear he was ignoring him, and even more obvious his now ex best friend didn't want anything to do with him. Not after he disrespected his wife. His beloved MJ.

After that night, Miguel left the house with a powerful slam that could only rival his heart's frenetic beats.

He had been ambushed, attacked and mauled by a woman that not only was his friend's wife, but also your best friend.

How fucking good was that?

Life was surely proving him a point, yet he refused to believe in such nonsense.

Karma wasn't ruining his life. His bad decisions were, he acknowledged much.

Trusting the wrong people, saying the wrong things at the wrongest of times, had only earned him to be in the black book of everyone around him.

No longer being perceived as that reliable man that focused on his work and loved his fiancée, but a cheater, a liar and abusive man that had been causing so much pain it was hard to believe.

Consequences were hardly a thing on Miguel's life, since he always behaved, hubristic as he was, but he behaved. Until that fateful night at that damned Alchemax party.

His temper had been teased enough by Dana, and it all took a one night stand with a gorgeous stranger to have life setting it's eyes on him and finding the perfect chance to charge him for every bad thing he had done.

All his life was sent spiralling into the void of chaos cause of you. If he hadn't met you, he'd still have his annoying fiancée with him, he'd still have his routine and home; his friend and possibly an even better position at his job. He'd be hurrying Delgado on his project advances, not backwards.

Ever since you showed up, things had gone incredibly sour for him. He didn't know what kind of bad luck charm nested and irradiated from you, cause things worsened.

With a heavy and irked sigh he downed the glass of whiskey in a go, letting the liquid burn his throat deliciously before serving himself another.

He didn't turn to alcohol often, in fact, he barely indulged the habit, unless stress and anxiety were making him their personal toy.

And he hated this never ending play date with them. He didn't want them anymore. He wanted everything to go back to normal and keep his routine. Sudden changes alarmed and made him severely uncomfortable, even though he always ended up adapting.

Cause every time he thought something was going back to normal, life made sure to surprise him with something new that only added more weight to his falling facade of a good man.

At first he thought nothing but a little stress coming his way as Aaron Delgado was elected as his new boss. And the man surely enjoyed putting everyone's nerves on edge, his specially.

Delgado didn't take him in count with the new projects, including one Miguel had prepared himself.

How dared him to cast him aside from his own creations and things? How dared Delgado to call him subordinate to then assign him into another group of tyros that had no idea on what to do?

Miguel downed the whiskey in a gulp and served yet another shot. His resented eyes darted to Peter's log once more.

Nothing had changed. And by the looks of it, it'd remain like that.

A clear 'Fuck off.' from that goof he had for a friend.

He had to admit, that Peter's bravado had surprised and caught him off guard.

The years he had known the man, truly couldn't prepare him for that display of sudden and righteous anger.

Miguel had underestimated Peter and his life choices so far, even going at such extent as to call him a clown when drunk, that couldn't truly swot on whatever thing the family man spoke. His brain turned stupid the moment his friend punched him with his words.

Every single one of them, hitting and berating with unforgiving and brazen truth, turning them harder to accept and swallow.

Part of him was too proud to acknowledge that disrespecting MJ was a bit too much, but the woman had come for him, straight for his jugular and her kill, that left him no chance to prepare his ammo against her and Peter.

But they were too set into marring and scarring him like predators, waiting for him to weaken down so they could finish what they started. Defending their territory and their own like a matter of death and life. You included.

The thought of MJ going for him to slap him or cause any sort of physical damage, amused him to no end. It was like everyone that night had taken a double shot of bravery.

But she didn't waver, he had to admit it. The way she executed his own public hanging, was flawlessly achieved on her end.

And it all resumed into one person. You.

The one that ignited the spark of that roaring and blazing fire within the Parker-Watson realm.

He growled while his nostrils flared angrily, his hand grope the glass tighter. God, you infuriated him to no end.

You and your stupid righteousness to accept whatever shit life threw at you, were the main culprit of his current state. Disregarded by his peers at work, friendless, fiancée-less, living in a bare and big apartment that needed to be cleaned up and refurnished as soon as possible, wallowing into his poor choices and actually consider them for a minute.

But of course, to Miguel O'Hara is was rather easy to put half the blame on others. The weight of being an asshole sometimes hurted his back and he was generous to share that burden with the rest.

To his surprise, the main door of his apartment rattled softly as Gabriel pushed the keys in and opened the door.

And to the young O'Hara's surprise his brother was there, sitting in the breakfast island, sulking and drinking his problems away.

"Migue! ¿Qué haces acá, cabezón?" (What are you doing here, big head?)

Miguel chuckled at his brother's puppy- like excitement. At least he could feel a bit of that tension disappearing before downing his third whiskey shot.

"I live here, cabrón." he grunted while Gabriel laughed and pulled him for en embrace, before Miguel shrugged him off. "What are you doing here?"

"Was picking up some stuff before going to Kasey's. Have a date night tomorrow." His younger brother fetched some small boxes from one room, and closed it's door.

"Why don't you tell Dana to join us? We could make it a double date."

Miguel's frame went rigid and he exhaled deeply.

"We broke up."

The words came out off him, rehearsed and terse, as if pronouncing them alone was more than enough to scrape his tongue.

Gabriel went silent for a moment and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Shit, I forgot about that..."

Miguel's head snapped his head softly to him, fiery eyes pinning Gabri on the spot, suspicion and mistrust rising.

"What do you mean? You've talked to her?"

"She called me."

Another wave of uncomfortableness washed over Miguel. Anxiety rose heavenwards in matters of seconds. Both O'Hara's remained there, looking at each other. And by the sudden cold stare from his baby brother, his mind intuited Gabriel was already acquainted with the situation.

Gabri's face fell and looked away, his cheerful demeanor long gone. He was good a pretention, and wanted to see how much the nothing is going on here facade lasted on Miguel. Gabriel wanted to see if Miguel took initiative to tell him the truth.

But his brother failed in such a simple task. He didn't have the intention of sharing his secret either. Although the situation wasn't that much of a secret anymore. At this rate the only people left knowing were his coworkers and the city.

"Do I know the woman?"

Miguel shook his head and served himself another drink. His suspicions confirmed in that phrase alone.

Gabriel's body shook ever softly with an underlying sort of anger.

"You know... even though I'm happy she's gotten a taste of her own medicine for cheating on me with you a while back, this... is different."

Miguel refused to talk or face him, and just heard him.

"Why'd you do it?" Gabriel asked

The question often popped in his mind, and in everyone's mouth that found out about his doings and the answer still remained the same. He didn't know.

But Gabriel's question was different, his overall demeanor was discomfitting at best. Eerily calm and collected. Like him.

"I don't know. I was pissed and-"

"So... you just cheated on Dana cause the hell of it." He crossed his arms and quirked a brow.

It was more a statement than a question. Yet Miguel just nodded. Tired of repeating the same answer to the same question over and over.

"Pretty much." he shrugged and slicked his hair back. Tired of trying and defend himself.

"Hmm..." Gabriel put the boxes down and rubbed his face, "You know, I could give absolute zero fucks on what you do with your life. But being a complete dick about it isn't the solution."

"I'm not denying shit, am I?" Miguel's brows furrowed, completely peeved.

"True, you're not. But you're not being responsible either." Gabriel's hands gestured

Miguel groaned annoyed.

"Ya estoy harto de la misma cantaleta. Contigo, con Dana, con Peter, con todo el pinche mundo que se entera de lo que hice." (I'm so sick of the same shit. With you, Dana, Peter and everyone that knows what I've done)

And Gabriel's mocking laugh didn't help to wane his rising anger. The neighbor's aggressive and upbeat music, filtered through the walls, seeping ominously through the genius' apartment. Polluting the air with its own chaotic beats.

"Bueno, Migue, ¿Qué esperabas, cabrón? For everyone to pat your back and feel sorry for you? Don't be stupid, man." (Well, what did you expected?)

"Can you leave now? Not in the fucking mood. And I'm not stupid."

"You are." Gabriel nodded knowingly, while tossing some of hid belongings in the box he put aside, "Pretty stupid actually. But it's even more moronic to believe that people won't give you shit for the things you've done," he shrugged, " And for you to act like a boy when you're soon to be a father."

Miguel's whiskey glass couldn't stand the match against the wall. Obliterating itself within seconds as the reluctant daddy hurled it against it. Shards flew to the floor and part of the kitchen Island Miguel was sitting. Some pieces rested a few inches away from his trembling and rabid frame.

"Kinda reminds me to someone." Gabriel murmured with derision. Unable to hold back the anger caused by his stupid brother's poor decisions.

Miguel's eyes screamed murder when gazing at his brother, as if daring him to say the words he could sense forming in his mouth and mind.

"But of course! Like father, like son." Gabri squared his shoulders, as if readying himself for the upcoming blow, and tilting his chin up defiantly.

The chair fell to the ground, as Miguel was already pouncing on him, the latter didn't hesitate nor wavered in keeping himself grounded with his stance. It was the younger O'Hara's turn to get everything he carried within, out of him.

As soon as Miguel's hands grabbed him by the collar, Gabriel wasted no time into connecting the perfect punch on Miguel's livid face, breaking his plump lip in the go. It stunted his brother for a minute.

Miguel remained nonplussed, brown eyes widening in shock. It wasn't a you punched me, but rather a how dare you fight back sort of shock

Who was him to put him in his place?

None of his intimidation worked on Gabriel, none of his mean and scary dog privilege served against his brother.

"You're just like him!" the latter hissed the accusation, "Didn't you learn shit about what Ma told us about him?!"

Miguel butt headed Gabriel and both landed on the floor with a loud thud. Miguel's fists didn't fear to collide against Gabriel's torso, knocking and forcing the air out of his ribcage.

But if there was something Gabriel could outmatch him, was his temper. Irish blood ran through his veins after all. And it was rare when it soared alive.

Gabriel connected another punch on Miguel's nose as he pulled his luscious hair, earning an enraged groan, but the older O'Hara didn't quiver, if anything the punches had sparked that fury within and returned the punch on Gabriel's cheekbone. Marring him as well.

This wasn't like the usual quarrel they used to fight as children, where Conchata would separate them and spank them afterwards. This was pure anger manifesting itself through their fists, hair pulling and cursing words.

Finally unleashed to tear each other apart, and making up for every single fight left without an apology or unfinished; for every urge to punch each other by the naughty things they got blamed for as youngsters.

But also, revenge for an innocent life that would bare the burden of having Miguel as a father.

Gabriel achieved what neither Peter or you wanted to do but were unable to do.

"Cállate!" Miguel roared and he punched again, earning a whimper from Gabriel.

"You're exactly..." Gabriel panted, "like Tyler." to then seethe and Miguel's chest constricted painfully. And he hated the feeling.

His enormous fists tightened their grip on his beaten brother's shirt collar, but refused to keep punching, instead, Miguel's hips weighted Gabri's torso down. Keeping him still.

It took Conchata a while to come clean to both their children regarding their parents. To Miguel it remained an open gash, and this situation did nothing but add salt to it, even worse when Gabriel now held that piece of information against him. Gabriel's words kept flowing, like the coppery taste in his mouth.

"You've already abandoned your child." Miguel couldn't help but punch again, furious for the comparison he was being subjected to, but Gabriel didn't have intentions to stop.

"And got mom's cheating side!" Miguel punched harder, tired and peeved that he had to shut his brother like this, but again, how dared he compare him to those that had hurt him the most?

"Congrats, cabrón, you're the worst of both worlds."

Miguel held his fist in mid air, trembling, panting the rage and need to beat his brother to bloody pulp, off his body. Just cause he told him the truth.

The guitar riffs died down, like the strife between them. It had served as an angry metronome for their beating.

Gabriel pushed him off his body, staggering away from him, panting like he had run a marathon. He spat the accumulated blood on the floor and stood with a pained groan.

"A fucking Tyler wannabe"

Miguel's lip twitched as he also spat blood.

"Leave."

"From all the things you could've learned from that piece of shit and mom... you picked the worst."

Gabriel shook his head, disappointed as he mumbled, and Miguel looked at his brother from his spot.

He was no longer that little boy that hid in the sheets with him after a thunderstorm, or cried whenever George  threatened to beat him if he failed at school again.

His little brother had grown, beat him with his bare fists even, only to prove him he wouldn't tolerate his shitty attitudes. Gabriel was no longer afraid of him.

"And you know what, Miggy?" Gabriel panted before wiping his mouth and touching the throbbing and swollen cheekbone, "I hope that child never finds out who you are, and that woman makes her life away from you. Cause you're not worth the trouble."

"You done? Fucking leave." Miguel nearly roared again through raged breaths.

"You're not worth anything good they have to offer. Nor their time, nothing." Gabriel sniffed and wiped his nose.

Miguel growled as he rose, shaking with the remnants of his misdirected anger, supporting himself in the nearby chair.

"Hope you get to see how other man takes your place and raise your kid."

Shut up

"Cause I wouldn't want to be associated with a coward like you neither. I'd be too embarrassed to say you're my father."

Cállate

"Why the fuck you're still here then?!"

"Just came to pick up my stuff, genius. Don't want you to dirty them with your shitty ass attit-."

"Te me largas a chingar a tu-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up and man up." Gabri growled before standing up. Bloodied and beaten, but it didn't matter. He had given Miguel a lesson.

With pained steps, Gabriel left him with a loud slam on the door.

Not only Miguel O'Hara was now minimized at his job, friendless, fiancée-less, but now, with one of his favorite shirts stained in blood and a busted lip and brotherless.

The latter however had wounded him enough to drown a shaky exhale as he blinked away the bloodshot tinge within his eyes. But as he rose completely on his feet, so did his wounded pride.

He didn't need Gabriel, neither Peter or anyone that was on his side first. He didn't need anyone. They'd come to him eventually, like they always did.

They always do.

With bruised knuckles, he took another glass from the shelf and served it full this time.

They fucking always do

Your hands clutched tightly at your tote bag's handles, letting the rough material to soak up in the faint sweat of your hands and constant rubbing.

Here we go

The first appointment had arrived and certainly that ever familiar tingling sensation upon facing the soon not-so-stranger's door, buzzed through your body. The protocols were something you were well versed in.

Introducing yourself, sharing pleasantries and exposing your deepest traumas to a total stranger that at the end of the session, would take a cut of your already reduced paycheck.

But doctor's and MJ's orders, were orders.

Your thighs spreaded a bit more and your hands went immediately to your abdomen, letting a soft exhale to leave your lungs. The belly's weight was starting to slowly but surely sink in your body. A hand rested ontop of it, caressing in tinny circles those pressure points that caused mild discomfort.

Your fingers relished in the warmth of your skin for a minute, and your stomach fluttered. The anxiety crawling back on the surface had your knee bouncing, eyes darting to the crisp white door, that matched on your baby blue two piece comfortable outfit. zthe soft smell of jazmine flooded that zone of the clinic.

And now I need to pee, great.

Your throat dried as minutes kept on ticking and ticking. Dragging the imminent vis-a-vis meeting with the professional.

Although your medical records showed a couple of psychiatrists and therapists listed, meeting one since... well, forever, always made your nerves to juggle in a deathtrap.

Nevermind. Just focus.

Some had been good, others bad an unprofessional. Imposing their beliefs and going ti the extent of condemning you for such thing as focusing on yourself rather than your mother's forgiveness. Some people were weird like that.

But they all mattered little to nothing, not when the new addition to the list was about to introduce themselves and sojourn into your life for a bit of time, enough to give you the right tools to set your life back in track.

Or so you hoped.

Your breath hitched as the receptionist called your name a couple of minutes after, and opened the door for you. Your brief grip on the tote bag's handles grew impossibly tight.

Everything will be fine.

In a few strides, you entered Dr. Graham's office. Her polite smile immediately met you and coaxed you to take a seat before her.

A silent sigh escaped your mouth and soon, you accommodated in the seat, the main door clicked as it closed, leaving you, your simmering anxiety with the doctor alone.

"Nice you meet you, Miss Primrose."

The surname still sent uncomfortable jolts through your body. As pretty as it was, it was the only tie that kept you tied to Mother's memory. Sadly, you couldn't turn into an Aster or a Jameson since none of your progenitors were nowhere to be found to relinquish them your rights. So a Primrose you stayed.

"How are you doing today, Miss?"

A nervous smile crept on your lips as you acknowledged the question with a nod.

"I'm alright."

"I can see your belly is causing a bit of discomfort. Would you like an extra cushion?"

You blinked a couple of times and nodded faintly. The doctor passed the cushion and you placed it right in your lumbar area, relishing the much needed support. Your eyes darted through her desk and the several papers scribbled with yout name on them. It was your medical record. All of it.

"Thanks."

"So, What can I help you with?"

Dr. Graham spoke as she pulled the most recent papers from the unwilling visit to the hospital and your new meds prescription.

"In all honesty, I haven't visited a therapist in years. But I know how this will go." The health professional raised a brow at your words, "You'll ask me questions I'll have to answer if I wanna have at least some sort of... control on my life back."

"So you feel you're not in control?"

"At all..."

"What about the pregnancy?. Would you say it helps to keep you grounded?"

You sighed, a prick of upset rising through

"It's the reason why I'm here, doctor." You murmured almost bitterly, and the doctor just watched for a moment in silence, pondering and thinking her next words to thread carefully.

She gave you a bit of space and pulled a box of tissues out and write some notes afterwards

"I know you might know this questions, but it's unavoidable for me to ask, how does that makes you feel?"

If it wasn't for the routine interrogation you would've already broken down. Instead, your hands clasped before you, resting some inches away from your belly.

"Scared to no end. Terrified of a shit ton of things. Sorry for my language."

"It's alright." She wrote some more and sighed, "What would you say it's your biggest fear at the moment?"

"Not having enough to keep up with all these future demands this baby girl will do, even after adopted I know that it'll be a bit crazy."

"I see. You're worried that you're unable to provide for your child in the meantime and afterwards birth."

You nodded, looking at your little belly poking out.

"That and... that I might hurt her."

"Hurt her?"

Your fingertips tapped nervously on the flat of your thighs, a tad uncomfortable with the first share of true personal details.

"I'm afraid to... hurt the baby once she's born. My eh... Mother had this thing. Postpartum Psychosis. It wasn't even depression, just... her and her need to hurt me."

"And you believe you might have it? or would suffer from it in a future?"

"I hope not." a nervous chuckle flew out of your mouth to then clear it softly, "I really hope not."

"Although your fears are completely valid, Postpartum Psychosis is a rare condition, Miss Primrose. It's not hereditary."

"It's not?"

Dr. Graham shook her head with a small smile at your confused face.

"No, dear. Sadly we haven't found a true reason why it shows up. It simply does."

You gulped and bit the inner flesh of your lip.

"But rest assured, you're in good hands. I promise."

So far you weren't a potential candidate for it, but it's prevention turned into a priority, specially with a medical record like yours. Meds were just the tip of the iceberg.

Again, you nodded

"May I know about the baby's father?"

"I'm on my own." Your borderline snappy remark made Dr. Graham to scribble some more on her notes.

"I see. May I know how was your relationship with him?"

"I... don't feel comfortable speaking about him."

More goddamned notes.

"Alright. Tell me about the baby. Is everything going good?"

"A little underweight, but healthy."

"I see. You must be proud of it, doing it all on your own."

A weak smile donned your lips as she spoke through her praise.

"Thanks, though... I... I initially wanted her gone. And... I tried to get rid of her." Your fingers fiddled against each other, upset and impatient. Unable to look at the professional in the face. Too ashamed to withstand her piercing yet non-judgemental gaze.

"But I couldn't. And here I am."

"You coming here to try and get the help you need for you and your baby, is one of the most selfless acts a future mother can do."

"Even if I'm giving her up for adoption?"

"Even that, yes. You're doing it for her best of interests. You're loving her by seeking that baby's wellbeing as your main priority."

"I don't know if love actually is the right word for it."

"It is love, even though it does not looks or feels like it to you. Love can manifest itself through so many ways, not precisely only on the platonic and romantical aspect of it." Dr. Graham nodded with a patient yet caring smile.

"However, perpetuating guilt over initial choices is just another trauma response, Miss Primrose. I understand that your initial choice couldn't be achieved. May I know why?"

Your throat turned drier than the desert. Too arid and scrapped to rebut. But with a deep inhale, you finally gathered the courage to muster

"I didnt... I don't want to be like my mother." A pause, and then you spoke again, "She was always complaining about how much she wished to... abort me when she had the chance. Selfish... I know."

The annoying sound of her scribbling pen was chipping at your patience. But you also understood it was protocol.

"I see. And is why you've decided to giving up the baby for adoption?"

"Mainly. But it's a money wise sort of thing for me. Sure, I did... want kids but much much more ahead. Not right now, not when my paycheck keeps growing shorter and shorter each month. But the baby is here so..."

"If the circumstances of having the baby would be different for you to keep her, would you?"

"I guess so? I don't want to have kids in an unsafe or stressful environment or a place that is prone to be one."

"Why?" Dr. Graham secured her notes and looked at you, expecting your answer. She had nailed one of the many roots of your problems.

"Because... It-." You voice trailed off, and the doctor pushed the box of tissues before you as your throat swallowed the thick lump with difficulty, "It reminds me too much of my messed up upbringing."

"And if you could resume it, how would you do it?"

"Social services were my friends, Different foster homes, not all of them loving, failed adoptions, that sort of thing." You chuckled nervously, trying to  sound as calm as possible, but your heart was beating like a rabbit's.

The doctor nodded and took a look at your med prescription. Dr. Graham asked about the meds and how it made you feel. But also noted that no matter how personal the question, you refused to break down. Too used to violence and harmful situations. Something to not be proud of.

Questions kept coming, mostly regarding your pregnancy since you rejected talking about Miguel. What would you have to say about him anyways? It was about you and the baby. There was no space in here for him to also pollute it with his poisonous violence.

The therapy kept stretching until time was up.

"I'll recommend some mood stabilisers once you reach your twenty weeks, the Zoloft is a must. So keep taking it. And if possible, I'd encourage you to talk to the baby."

She chuckled at your confusion for a moment and nodded.

"I know you don't wish to grow attached, since adoption is on the way. But creating a bond, even if temporary, is vital for your and the baby's health. Same as sleeping properly."

"Oh... Alright."

"If there's nothing else to discuss, then I'll see you within two weeks."

Supermarket shopping was one of the things you'd never expected to require assistance with.

The clerks were kind to fetch you things you couldn't reach from the top shelves, and gave you tissues after a wave of sudden nausea and retching at the bathroom.

Once at home you'd finish the paperwork for government aid, and looking into the adoption programs MJ suggested.

In the meantime, you got into the line and waited your turn. A couple of groceries and vegetables nested in a side as snacks and other little indulgences rested on the other along some new slippers.

The beeping machine echoed constantly, marking your products, and when the woman stopped and dictated a total, your chest felt a bit constricting.

"I'll return the snacks and will keep the slippers."

Shame didn't do your face justice, as you avoided seeing everyone directly in the eyes. Maybe it was a miscalculation on your budget or prices had gone up, but not having enough to pay for some simple snack bags, added yet another toll on your already loaded brain.

You quickly paid for whatever you could and left the super, face and mind awash with embarrassment. With a sigh you looked at the curve of your belly.

"Nothing personal, but you're not exactly cheap to feed." You mumbled while rubbing your tingling belly, at the fluttering sensation blooming from within.

"But can't really blame you" You patted the curve softly, "I like eating good stuff too."

Once the groceries were secured, you drove home.

Taglist:

@death-moth-art @miss-taura @xylianasblog @serpentstarr @randomnobody187  @xylianasblog  @aockskcw @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob @aockskcw @innyxp @smartyren @creepyronix

@serpentstarr @randomnobody187   @8xbygirl   @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @kate-ohara @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiixo @spiderpapi2099 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog   @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @frompeach @innyxp

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #of flowers and hummingbirds 🌼🐦 #miguel o'hara x you #crying

[fayeofthenightingale]

HE'S SO HOT! GOD! I WANNA- **** *** *** **** *** ** *** ** ** **** ** ** *****

Spa Day ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: You and Miguel go to the spa, mainly fluff, gets smutty towards the end, "wife" and "girl" are used, thigh grinding, masturbation, perhaps a hint of a praise kink, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: Had an idea to do a cute spa day with Mig. Enjoy!

“Welcome to the Sunny Side Spa! Are you checking in?”

The receptionist asked, smiling wide as you and Miguel walked inside. You were too busy taking in the peaceful atmosphere to respond. Admiring the soft bright lighting, harpsichord music, and divulging in the lavender aroma.

Miguel stepped in, “Yes. For the deluxe package?”

“Wonderful! Right this way!” You took your husband's hand, following the cheery woman down a hall and to the right, where the showers and locker rooms were. “Please wash up and put on our robes so we can start your ultimate spa experience!”

Your heart sped up in excitement, trying to contain it as you and Miguel went your separate ways in the locker rooms. Sunny Side Spa was a new spa that opened up on Earth-438, being highly recommended by some of the spiders in Spider Society. Ben mainly as he raved about his experience. Saying he suggested it to a few others too because it was that good. Jess came to you a few days later about the same spa and then so did Peter the day after. All boasting about their experiences, wanting you and Miguel to go too.

They mentioned how difficult it was pushing Miguel to go out and try new experiences. Especially after his major role in forming the elite spidey team. But once he started dating you, he was open to branching himself out. Even more so after marriage.

So when you brought up the spa trip with him, he was interested. He didn’t think he'd even been to the spa before when he couldn’t remember the last time he's had a massage or a facial. You weren't sure yourself. Hence why it was clear you two had to get in some relaxation time.

The cream-colored robe you put on felt like cotton. It was warm and soft to the touch with notes of eucalyptus hitting your nostrils.

Miguel was waiting for you, leaning against the wall while listening to the receptionist rave about the deluxe package. You didn't catch much of it, only hearing a little bit about a deep tissue massage.

“Ah you too look adorable!” She complimented before motioning you all to the massage room. The lady repeated what she told Miguel about everything that's in the deluxe package. A deep tissue massage, followed by a manicure, pedicure and a facial. While you all were fed complementary food and drinks. And as an added bonus, a private sauna room you can go to at the end of the wellness visit.

The lady handed you a pamphlet of the details in case you forget as she left you two in the room to wait for your masseuse. Your eyes caught the option to do hot stones in the massage to maximize muscle relaxation.

“Maybe you should pick this one.” You pointed out.

Miguel glanced over your shoulder, letting out a playful huff. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing…” You teased, “My man works hard. Just want to make sure we're making the most out of our stay.”

He hummed, kissing the side of your head. “I appreciate the thought, baby.”

The massages you received were out of this world.

Once meeting with your personal masseuse, you lied face down, uncovering your robe for easy access. The masseuses' hands roaming every inch of your bare back. Rubbing spots along your muscles that you didn’t even know were tense. All of the tension built up inside faded away once the soft fingers of your personal masseuse melted it away.

You couldn’t help but groan loudly at the feeling, hearing your masseuse laugh. “Feel good, yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Miguel was enjoying his massage as his groans resonated in the room. While he occasionally instructed his own masseuse where they should rub the most. Any semblance of worry that your husband wasn’t going to enjoy the experience were gone.

Hints of jasmine from the essential oils lingered as hot stones pressed along your back. Not hot enough to burn your skin but to soothe your body. The personal masseuses left the room, wanting you two to lie on the cot for a little to fully relax.

“Cariño?” You hummed in response, “I might fall asleep.”

You giggled as you could tell by his low tone. “Fall asleep, baby.” You weren't too far yourself, body desperate to doze off in pure bliss. Miguel’s soft snores weren’t helping either as it blended well with the gentle music that was playing.

After you and Miguel got some shut eye for a few minutes, your masseuse woke you up for the mani/pedi. You took the lead as Miguel trailed behind, walking a tad slower to get adjusted from his nap. The section of getting the hand and foot massages was in a large area outside. A closed off section that was decorated with tons of food at your disposal. Fruit, veggies and mini sandwiches with a variety of alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks.

You quickly snatched up a grape as you sat back in your reclining chair, grabbing a drink of water while waiting on the nail artists to arrive. There was an option of getting your nails painted too, which Miguel willingly said yes to your surprise.

“Ooh can I pick your color?” You asked as they handed you a palette of nail colors to choose from.

“Go crazy.” Miguel said, not paying you any mind as he messed with his chair that had a massage function built in.

You decided to pick black for him, the glittery kind that shined in the light. You opted for a dark blue, like his suit, also sporting a shimmery shine.

The techs were really thorough while doing your hands and feet. Placing them in a tub of warm water, scrubbing away the excess skin. Trimming your nails and toes to a decent length. You watched them rub oil across your arms and legs too before they effortlessly painted your nails and toes. You glanced over to see how Miguel’s looked. He wiggled one of his hands to show it off. Black fit well on him.

Your face was soon covered with a mixture of ingredients you couldn't recognize. The green concoction had a clay-like texture, but it was cool against your skin. You watched the spa workers carry a bowl of cucumbers to finish off the facial. And you couldn't help but get excited when they said you could eat the veggies once the facial was finished, earning a laugh from your husband.

“Can I eat yours too?”

“Sure, mi amor.”

They allowed you two to relax in your chairs for a bit. The soothing sensation of the mask really helping. Your nail techs also recommend waiting to touch anything for a bit while your nails dried, making sure their hard work didn't go to waste. That didn't stop Miguel from inching over to nudge your hand with his pinkie.

“Hm?” You said, completely in the zone of your relaxation.

“You look adorable right now.” Miguel chuckled.

You held back in removing a cucumber from your eye, “Put your cucumbers back on.”

“I will. Just let me look at you.”

“You've seen me before.”

“Not with green stuff all over your face.”

You removed one of your cucumbers, opening your eye and immediately snorting at Miguel’s green covered face. “You look adorable too.”

He gave another affectionate nudge before following your command by putting on his cucumbers.

After the delightful facials, you two made your way down to the saunas. You could feel your face glowing from the extra care. Both of you had to change again into some towels, having a similar texture and color to the robes you wore.

You and Miguel had 30 minutes inside before the staff checked on you. And you felt like you were in heaven as you leaned against Miguel. A warmth radiating throughout the room that relaxed your muscles and your mind. His arm draped behind you, leaning back against the bench, legs spread a little wide. You could tell he was enjoying it as he leaned his head back, taking it in.

Something in you honed on his neck, a slight sheen coating his brown skin. His adam's apple bobbing slowly. You swallowed hard at the hair on his chest, following it down to his happy trail and unable to see the prize under his towel.

“We should come here more often.” His voice caused you to jump, not expecting him to say anything.

“Oh yeah, we should.”

Miguel sat up, red eyes landing on you with a grin, “I know you liked the massages.”

“Of course I did.” You shrugged, “So did you, right?”

He nodded, “I did. But I know you really enjoyed them.” Miguel sat up a little and inadvertently spread his legs wider, “I heard your cute little noises.”

You huffed, trying not to get affected by what he was saying. “It wasn't intentional, it just felt good.”

“I know, nena. I'm teasing.” His hand rested on your side. It felt extra hot for some reason. “Sit on my lap.”

You eyed him suspiciously, “Why?”

“Because I want you to.” He said, sounding innocent.

“We can’t have sex in here, Miguel.”

Your husband bit his lip to hide his amusement, “Who said we were having sex? Your mind is awfully dirty.” You shot a glare towards him. He completely ignored it before patting his thigh for you. Somehow you found yourself on it, hands on his chest for support.

“I'm serious.” You warned before he captured your lips. It was gentle yet passionate. His hand placed on your back to keep you there while your tongues danced with each other. You wanted more when you parted, wanting to lean back in but you stopped yourself.

“We can’t…”

“We're not having sex.” Miguel reiterated as his hand moved to slowly unravel your towel. You didn’t protest, as a glimpse of your breast poked through, your towel loose enough to ride up to your hips. “Grind on my thigh.”

Your hips moved on command, your cunt rubbing against his covered thigh. The plush towel not irritating you at all but the complete opposite as you lowly gasped. Miguel’s hand took its rightful place on your back for stability. His eyes honed on how you were grinding against him.

“Good girl.”

Your eyes flickered to his hard cock coming out from his towel. Standing tall and proud due to your actions. You wanted to touch it, but he beat you to it as he lifted you up gently, plunging two fingers inside you. You whimpered at how embarrassingly wet you were before watching him use your arousal on his cock.

His eyes never left your body as yours watched him stroke his cock. His thumb running along the tip to collect pre cum before using it for additional lubrication. A quiet squishy sound was heard through the hum from the sauna. But you kept going, eyes fluttering shut to focus on what you were doing.

“Eyes on me.” He commanded.

You gazed at him, your stomach twisting as he was still watching you. Intense eyes filled with pleasure. Your hips faltered when he unraveled more of your towel from your body. It was dangling from your form, barely hanging on. But this way he was able to see your breasts move from the hip movement. And your covered sex rub along the fabric.

“Fuck…” He swore, picking up the pace of his strokes. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Miguel…” You moaned, your clit hitting a perfect spot amidst your lazy grinding. That caused you to arch your back and pick up the pace. Miguel’s other hand is still on you, gripping a bit tighter.

“I should fuck you right here.” He grunted, spreading his legs even wider to get a good angle. “But I listen to my wife.”

“Sometimes.” You muttered, enough for him to let out a breathy chuckle. Your thighs started to ache as your cunt pulsed while you felt yourself getting closer. You wanted to shut your eyes and chase it but it was more addicting to look at Miguel’s steely focus on you.

“Wait for me.” He sighed, voice starting to get hoarse. You slowed down for him to catch up. Which didn’t take too long as his rough hand gripped your ass, the cue for you to go. So you kept grinding. Your back arching more and allowing the towel to slip completely off. That earned a groan of approval from your husband, his face turned from the undeniable pleasure.

“Baby I need you to come. We don't have much time.”

“I-I know.” You struggled, whining as you were nearing your peak. You had to ignore Miguel’s demand this time by shutting your eyes to focus on that feeling. Your body exploded, pleasure shooting all over you. Thighs squeezing against his while you quietly cried for him. Any other time he wouldn't like how quiet you were but he didn’t complain.

Miguel wasn’t far behind as cum shot out, staining his abdomen. His death grip from your ass gently released as he heaved. You rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow back down to his original pace.

You and your husband were practically glowing after getting out of the sauna. The two of you changed back into your clothes before making your way to the front of the establishment.

The receptionist waved to you and Miguel as he made the payment, “Did you two enjoy yourselves?”

“We definitely did.” He glanced at you with satisfaction while you held in a grin.

“Awesome!” She handed him the receipt before waving you two goodbye. “Thank you for coming to the Sunny Side Spa! Have a good day!”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miggy #he's so hot #i fucking love him #just once #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader

[fayeofthenightingale]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE! I DIED! I LITERALLY DIED! MAMA MY SOUL ASCENDED! YOU KNOW WHY I LOVE THIS SO MUCH?! BECAUSE I RESONATE WITH READER A LOT- 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

HI OH MY GOSH i read your fic where the reader tutors miguel and im so Hngghuagsg its amazing youre so good at writing<33

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write a similar situation with like reader who's not exactly quiet, maybe someone who doesnt even like take the subjects he takes, but he passes by her in the hallway, she's known by people in his classes, she has friends and she talks to everyone but him. and he doesnt know why, (ik its a stretch but could the reader have acne in so many fics i see readers being kissed on the forehead and im like i have acne there he wouldnt want to kiss it :"D)

little does he know that she, whos normally not a shy person is shy to talk to him because she likes him and like she cant fathom him liking her back, she;s...just her. shes not special, or even like a topper. she's just there. and she couldnt be more further from the truth

im so sorry if this is confusing its long and a bit confusing but id love to see what youd do with it<3 thank you

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Insecure!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Insecurity, Mentions of Acne, Slightly Jealous Miguel

Summary: All he wants is your attention. 

A/N: So cute, so cute, so cute

Word Count: 1.8K (Barely Edited)

You remind him of a mouse. 

Always running away before he can fully register that you’re there. Always skirting around his field of vision in the halls as you walk past and purposely quiet your voice to not alert him. It frustrates him. Knowing that you’re there and not at the same time. It pains him because he knows you only do it when it’s him. He isn’t even around you constantly, but he knows there is a difference in the way you act around him. 

He knows you’re usually an energetic and bright person. If he were to pull random people in the hall aside and ask them about you, all their faces would light up in recognition of your name and they would go on and on about their love for you. They would recount all the times you’ve made them laugh and smile, how you’re the sunshine stuffed into a single person, how you can’t take three steps inside the school without someone calling out a greeting towards you. They all talk from experience. Experience Miguel doesn’t have.

He’s tried, he really has. He thought maybe he intimidated you with his height and the usually dark look on his face. So, he tried his best to be soft when you’re around, and tried to convey that he wasn’t a threat. But all of his attempts are in vain. You still stop talking when he comes up to your shared group of friends, always pick the furthest spot away from him, always keep your words and attention towards him to a minimum. He can recount the multiple occasions where one of your mutual friends walked with you down the hall and stopped to talk to Miguel. Each time, his gaze shifted towards you and watched the way you don’t even turn towards him, instead scrolling through your phone as you waited. 

It takes everything in him to not wave a huge sign in your face spelling out PAY ATTENTION TO ME! A large amount of his self control goes towards not pulling whoever you're walking with away from you so he can take their place, forcing you to give him the attention he’s so deprived of. Whenever he asks one of your friends about your behavior, they can only give him a sympathetic look and the shrug of their shoulders. So instead, Miguel steals his time with you through secret observations. His attention instantly snapping towards you when the group is hanging out, his eyes searching for your frame in the halls in between classes. 

He watches the way your eyes light up when you talk to someone, wild hand movements accompanying your stories. He watches the way you always adjust the strap of your book bag that you can never really fix. Loves the look of surprise on your face when someone you don’t know calls out your name and you laugh in confusion as you say hello back and turn to your friends in astonishment. Watches the way you randomly pull your phone out in the halls when you trail behind your group of friends, a small frown on your face as you turn your head and poke at the raised bumps on your skin. Each little sight feels like a breath of fresh air to Miguel, welcoming anything you unknowingly give him. 

It’s a god given gift the day he finds you sitting alone on the bleachers afterschool, none of the people you usually hide behind when you want to get away from him in sight. He keeps his movements slow and quiet to not alert your attention towards his approaching figure. When he sits besides you, you jump in surprise, a look of awe on your face at the sight of him that quickly morphs into the familiar shyness. He watches the way your hand tightens on your phone before you quietly speak up. “Hi, Miguel.”

The sound of your voice, directed entirely towards him makes his heart sing. He feels the unease wash from his shoulders, but he can see it transferring towards you. Even though it pains him to, he leaves a considerable amount of space between the two of you. A whole other person can fit in the empty space. Miguel clenches his fist as he eyes the space in envy, trying his best to ignore it for the sake of your comfort. 

He must be god’s favorite today because as you watch him, you let out a shy smile and whisper out: “You can sit closer, y’know?”

He doesn’t hesitate to fill the space, his knee bumping with yours in his eagerness to be closer. A small laugh leaves you and every rainy day for the next month is cleared away in your happiness. Miguel is utterly hypnotized by you, his eyes shamelessly staring at your face as he drinks in what he’s been missing out on. Is this what it's like? Is this what it's like to be in the presence of a star?

Your smile turns awkward the more he stares at your face, mistaking it for him studying the patch of acne you’ve had difficulties getting rid off. You shift in discomfort, trying to subtly cover the area from view as you clear your throat. Miguel is awakened from his state of awe at the sight of your discomfort, the way you try to hide your imperfections clear as day to him from all the times he’s watched you do it around your friends. Miguel sits up straighter and turns his body to fully face you. He gently moves your hand away from your face, unobstructing his view of you. “You looked really pretty today. Liked the way you did your hair, it looks nice.”

Your eyes are wide as you look at Miguel, his words not fully being processed by your muddy mind. He’s so close and he’s touching you. You think maybe you’re having mirage from being out in the hot sun for too long. You hesitantly look behind you, thinking he’s talking to someone else. The action makes Miguel smile slightly, his thumb rubbing against the pulse point on your wrist to call your attention back towards him. You continue to blink up at him, a blush forming on your face as your point to yourself in clarification. 

Miguel’s smile widens as he tilts his head slightly, a strand of hair covering his eyes while his shoulder shake from silent chuckles. “Yes, you.”

Your smile grows wider in bashfulness, muttering a small thank you as your hand goes to your hair. In your nervousness, you start talking about your process in getting up this morning. Oversharing about how you had tried it out the night before only for it to give you difficulties this morning that made you frustrated and think you would be late to school. Miguel listens wholeheartedly, a small smile still on his face as he lets you say everything that comes to your mind. You end the rant with another thanks towards him for being the only one noticing your efforts with your appearance. 

He finds the appreciation unnecessary, but he’s proud to have gained it from you. He’s sure he looks like a proud puppy with a wagging tail at your praise and his ability to coax a conversation that lasts more than three words. He racks his brain for more things he could say, anything he can do to make you speak more and keep up this easy going air that's so rarely over the both of you. The tiniest bit of pride shines in his eyes whenever he’s successful. 

He lets you go on and on, dismissing your apologies whenever you feel like you’ve talked too much. He’s always been more of a listener than a talker anyways. Plus, he likes discovering the world you dive into when you get lost in your mind. He especially doesn’t mind it when that world subconsciously causes you to raise your hand and push away the strand of hair covering his forehead. His heart beats dangerously fast as he holds his breath, scared he’ll break whatever spell he’s in. It’s only after you start pulling your hand away that you freeze with the realization of what you did. 

A nervous look crosses your face as you start to apologize profusely, your hand still hovering over the side of his face. Miguel shakes his head with a happy smile, once again scolding you for your obsession with the word sorry. When you don’t stop your onslaught for forgiveness, he clasps your hand and presses a kiss to the heel of your palm, successfully shutting you up. You’re a stuttering mess, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you try to form words in your useless mind. Miguel chuckles against the warm skin of your palm and keeps it in his hold as he moves your joined hands to the warmed metal between the both of you. "Go on, princesa. What happened next?"

More shy than before, you continue on, both of your thumbs taking turns rubbing the back of each other's hand. During the never-ending conversation, the two of you get closer and closer. Your body now pressed into Miguel’s side as you laugh and smile at each other. Miguel adds little bits of speech into the conversation, commenting on things he hears or remembers happening or to agree with you on something. He's never seen you so open and carefree with him, and he selfishly wishes for more moments like this. 

Too soon, the moment is broken when your phone starts ringing. You answer, a sorry expression on your face before you turn slightly to answer, pulling your hand from Miguel’s. He clenched his empty palm as you talk, staring down at the lightness that it contains. When you hang up the phone and turn back towards him, the closed-off and reserved behavior returns. 

"I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you, Migs." You whisper as you begin to stand up and gather your things. The nickname you call him warms him through the cold reality of what the two of you will resort back to. 

He hums sadly, the hand previously in his pocket taking your hand again. He debates giving it another kiss, but he decides against it. Instead he gives your hand a gentle squeeze and a small smile. Your cheeks flush again and you give him a fleeting smile in return before making your way down the bleachers. Once you make it down, he stands up and watches as you walk towards a newly pulled up car. You turn and give him a small wave, turning away too quickly to catch his small wave back. 

A heavy sigh leaves him as you drive off. A small weight stays on his chest and he curses slightly, hoping the two of you won't go back to square one. 

Meanwhile, you sit in the passenger seat of the car, a fond smile on your face as you trace the string of numbers scrawled out on the slip of paper he pressed into your hand.

This is the last Miguel request in my inbox WOOO!!

#miggy #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #holy shit #I love #omg the listener to my yapper when?!

[fayeofthenightingale]

*SCREAMS* OMYYYYYYY!!! ITS HERE! ITS HERE DJCJSJSKDN 😻💖

Mi Dulce Cereza

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?

WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread

Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.

A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3

"Ma!"

The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.

Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.

"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.

"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)

"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)

Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.

The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.

Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.

Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.

Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.

"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.

A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.

And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.

"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.

His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.

"For you to leave my property."

"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"

A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.

"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."

"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.

"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."

"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)

William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.

He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.

The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.

And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.

"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."

Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.

"Ma?"

Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face

"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"

"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process

"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.

"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.

Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.

"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)

The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.

Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.

William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.

Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.

"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."

"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"

"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."

William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.

The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.

For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.

It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.

That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.

Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.

So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.

Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.

But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.

He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.

William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.

But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.

----

Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.

Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.

Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.

But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.

William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.

The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.

He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.

He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.

Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.

Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.

Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.

William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.

A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.

Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.

If people only knew the scum he is.

If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.

The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.

Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.

He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.

A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.

Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.

Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.

But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.

----- He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.

In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.

Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.

Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.

Dana.

"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"

The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.

"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."

Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.

Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."

It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.

"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"

Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.

"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."

"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"

Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.

In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.

Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.

The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.

"You love that itch. But don't worry, as soon as you finish your little revenge game, we'll have the whole time for us."

"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."

Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.

"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."

More than they already did? Impossible.

Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."

"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)

He mumbled while stepping into the shower.

"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.

He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.

----

Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.

The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.

A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.

He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.

Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.

The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.

His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.

He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.

A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.

The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.

"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."

Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.

"Thanks."

Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.

Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.

A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.

Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.

Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.

Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.

But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again. With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.

Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.

But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.

A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.

His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.

"Come in."

He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.

It was as if time had barely passed over him.

It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.

This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.

The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.

"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.

"Sir."

"Must say what people say about you, do you justice." "Good things I hope."

William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.

"Now. The property you'll be in charge is  in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"

"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"

"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."

"Fortnight is alright."

William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.

"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.

"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."

Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.

Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.

Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it worth it every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.

Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.

Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.

Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.

The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.

William sighed deeply. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.

"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."

Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.

"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?" "The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."

Miguel chuckled and nodded

"I see."

As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.

"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."

With a final and firm handshake, William left.

Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.

Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.

The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.

He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.

Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.

And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn. ---

One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.

He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.

Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.

A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.

What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.

Had a worker slipped in?

Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.

"Ma'am?"

----

Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.

Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.

Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.

But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.

The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.

Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.

"Ma'am?"

The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.

"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.

His brow quirked as his face remained serene.

"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."

You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.

If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.

A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.

"I got installed today, it's ok."

He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.

He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.

You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.

You didn't look past twenties.

"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.

"Yes?" "Can I use the barn's phone, please?"

Such a polite girl.

"Of course." "Sorry for the floor."

He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.

Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.

"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"

Papa

Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.

He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.

He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.

And what a good job they've made.

"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."

Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.

"Thanks. Love you!"

You hung up the call and smiled his way.

"Thank you. Mr...?"

"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."

You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.

"Right. So you're the new trainer?"

His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.

Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.

"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."

"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."

"My pleasure to help, señorita."

His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.

"Come. Let's get you warmed up."

You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.

You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.

"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.

He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.

A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.

"Mi niña! Let's go!"

The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.

"Thanks for the help, Miguel."

"Anytime, señorita."

He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.

"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.

"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.

You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.

Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.

Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.

"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."

"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."

He sighed with a dreamy heave.

"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."

"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."

"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."

With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.

He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.

He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.

His revenge was finally in motion.

----

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[fayeofthenightingale]

Sassy man 🫶🏻

Hi, I got carried away :D This white suit is based on Kris Anka’s design. I took liberty on the details. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go do a master study on some guy named Caravaggio.

[fayeofthenightingale]

My stomach did the thing and so does the thing in between my legs 💖

look between M and O and you’ll find me in the middle

My version of that keyboard post on Twitter

[fayeofthenightingale]

BABY GIRL!

he’s so

[fayeofthenightingale]

Him and me same 😞

I do hand thingys when I explain too

Miles' explainie hands~

Am I missing any?