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mercynguyen · 3 months

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Oh I love your writing so much! Ur really feeding us so much Miguel fic thank you for ur service 🫶❤️❤️❤️.

I'm just thinking about reader take Miguel to meet their mom and seeing Miguel n her bond with each other and maybe talk shit about his mom( I need Miguel to have a better mom like he deserve😭🙏🙏)

First Meeting

bro its so hard to find a gif of this man NOT frowning or beating miles up 😭 BUT thank u sm <3 hehe i try to feed yall and im glad im doing an okay job i love serving my community🫡 I really loved this request a little breather from smut lol but i hope i did okay! as always, i can write something different if you're not happy with it :'3

Miguel x Reader, Fluffy, A bit of angst, Word Count: 1,950

Miguel clutched your hand in his left hand, while his right gripped a small wrapped gift tightly. His eyes were glued to the front door and feet planted on the wooden floorboard of your mothers porch. He had stopped you just before ringing the doorbell by tugging on your hand. “Wait,” He breathed out. “Are…are we sure it’s today? Are you sure this gift is enough for her? Maybe I should’ve brought food instead…” He murmurs with a worried knit of his eyebrows making his stress lines appear deeper. You sigh through your nose with a soft smile. “You have nothing to worry about. Yes, it’s today and yes the gift is enough. My mom makes too much food anyway so it’s probably best if we didn’t have more.” You chuckle softly and cup his cheek. The warmth of your hand makes his eyes slip off the door and down towards your face. His eyes had softened but they still held worry in them. You knew about his own past, how he didn’t really have a positive parental role model–much less a mother. So, you believed all this worry came from the trauma of what she had done to him and now, he’s trying to seek the approval of another mom. He wants to be good enough and you’re one hundred percent sure he is. “She’ll love you.” You whisper gently, as if the idea itself would spook him. He sucks in a sharp breath and looks off to the side. “But what if she doesn’t?” He asks, looking down at the pretty red bow around the small box in his hand.

“She will,” You assure him. “You are so easy to love, Miggy. I know you’re afraid and that this is a big step for us, but just trust me.” Your thumb caresses his cheekbone. “I do trust you.” He mumbles and looks back down at you. “Good. Then you have nothing to worry about.” You lean up to kiss him and he meets you halfway, pecking your lips in a sweet and quick kiss. You pull away and smile up at him, his cheeks tinged a light hue of red at his vulnerability with you; he was still getting used to it. “Ready?” You ask him. He squeezes your hand tightly in his. “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand in return and then press the little button of your mothers doorbell. You hear the ringing from inside and you two wait patiently until your mom arrives. Miguel’s leg shakes nervously, his finger tapping the box. The door opens and Miguel stiffens into a straight posture. Your mother greets you two with a warm smile and a small cry of joy. “Oh my baby!” She yanks the open wide open and ushers you both inside. “Come in! Come in! It must be freezing!” You giggle and tug Miguel with you with him bending slightly so as to not bump his head coming in.

She turns to Miguel with a big smile after closing the door behind you. “And you must be Miguel! They’ve told me so much about you!” Miguel smiled wearily, unsure and a little terrified with how…welcoming she had been already. He pushes it aside and lets go of your hand to hold the box in his left hand to give your mother his right for a handshake. “Yes, Miguel O’Hara. It’s a pleasure to meet you, señora.” Your mother takes his hand and shakes it, her other hand on her cheek as she coos up at Miguel. “Oh, what a gentleman! Come, let me take your coat.” She holds out her hands as both you and Miguel slip your coats off your backs. Miguel shakes his head and politely declines. “Thank you but it’s alright. I can do it myself.” Your mother sputters and scoffs, waving away his concerns with her hand. “Nonsense! I insist. You’re in my home so you are a guest! Don’t be too gentlemanly.” She jokes at the end, taking his and your coat despite your protests. Miguel takes it harder than you, worrying that she might think he’s lazy and forcing her to be so kind but you loop your arm around his. “She’s like this. She likes doing this and I’ve tried to stop her.” You shrug with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry.” You remind him and kiss his cheek. “Well don’t just stand there! Dinner is just about done.” You hear her call from the kitchen. Miguel fiddles with the box, tossing it from hand to hand. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick.” You tell Miguel, feeling him freeze subtly. You slip your arm from him and he stands awkwardly in the living room.

Miguel swallows the lump in his throat and sets the gift down by the table. He then walks over to the kitchen where your mom is and sees her collecting plates for all three of you. He walks beside her and taps her shoulder to not scare her, underestimating his giant footsteps. “I can help.” He shrinks his size as much as he can to not look as gigantic next to your mother. She brightens up at him. “Oh, you don’t have to but thank you.” She pats his muscular bicep.

“I know I don't, but I'd like to. You've done so much work tonight making a delicious dinner.” He says softly, taking two plates for you and him.

“Of course. I wanted to make a good impression on the man who captured my baby's heart. Especially when they're a real piece of work.” She tuts playfully, shaking her head and laughing to herself.

Miguel chuckles along with her, taking a spoon and scooping out some white rice for his plate. “They're not that bad.” He defends you with a small grin.

Your mother hoots out a laugh. “You weren't there in their teenage years!” She jams her own spoon into the rice cooker to scoop her own desired amount. “I love my children to death but oh, I could've used a break when they were fourteen. So many phases I couldn't keep up. I'm sure your own mother thought the same.”

Miguel smiles to himself, wondering and wishing he could've seen you during those years. He wonders if you two would have clicked. He thinks back to his own days as a teen. They weren't as nice as yours.

He remembers holding his baby brother rightly to his chest as his parents were fighting, making sure his ears were covered. He remembers the fights he had gotten into with his own mother and how he was always compared to his little brother. Everyday in that house was a screaming match–either with Miguel or between his parents.

He sighs heavily, the weight of the past pressing against his ribs. Your mother notices it instantly, growing worried she might have set something off.

You exit the bathroom after washing your hands and approach the kitchen after hearing their conversation. You stop and wait by the wall behind them when you hear Miguel talking again.

“Yeah, uh, my mother and I weren't really close so I wouldn't know.” He chuckles dryly, picking up some tongs and grabbing a bowl of pasta for you. He hopes he hasn't made it awkward.

Your mother stops making her plate and instead looks up at him with an expression he can't decipher. “Did you know her?” She asks.

Miguel nods, shrugging his shoulders up. “Yes, yeah, I did. She was–I just wasn't her favorite, is all.” He puts it lightly.

She juts her bottom lip out in a deep frown and huffs, already getting an idea of how his own mother treated him. “‘Favorites.’” She scoffs. “What bullshit. If you're a good parent, then there are no favorites.”

Miguel blinks at her sudden cursing before letting out a soft laugh. “I could've been better.” He says, feeling defensive strangely enough by blaming his mothers abuse on himself. “I mean she didn't go as far as hitting me yet but–”

Your mother loudly cuts through a large piece of steak, the pan slightly squeaking from the force of her knife moving to rip apart the meat. She mutters under her breath, anger simmering under her skin.

“I know I said teenage years were rough but none of that is ever your fault. Physical or not.” She picks up the slab of steak with a fork and places it on Miguel's plate. She knew he was a big eater via you.

“You were just a boy and anything that woman did to you doesn't deserve a moment of your thoughts.” She says firmly. “And if that woman is out of your life–is she out of your life?” She points a knife at him.

Miguel nods. “For the most part, yes ma'am.”

The older woman tsks and returns back to Miguel's plate, picking up a tomato and slices thin pieces for him. “Well, if she ever comes back and pisses you off, you come straight here. You don't need all that negativity sucking out your happiness.”

Miguel smiles as your mother works, feeling warm that he has a home to lean back on. “Si, señora.”

“You come here with them too because they don't visit me often.” She nudges Miguel with her elbow, talking shit about you playfully.

You lift off the wall with a smirk, deciding now was the time to intervene. “I see you two have reached the stage of talking behind my back.” You pipe up, reaching between them to grab a slice of cucumber. Your mother smacks your hand, chitting you for touching the bowl. You laugh and feel Miguel take the hand your mother hit and he kisses the same spot with a teasing smile. You feel your heart flutter and look away shyly.

Your mother pretends not to notice and tries to reach for your plate but you take it before she can. “Alright, c'mon. Time to eat. I know this monumental man is hungry.” Your mother ushers all three of you back to the dining table.

She stops when she sees the small gift-wrapped box on the table. She picks it up curiously. “Is this yours?” She asked Miguel.

He nods and sits next to you after setting his plate down. “Well, it's really for you. I brought something for you.”

The woman sits right across from you two and lets out a small “aww”.

“You shouldn't have.” She places it to the side. “Oh and we're about to eat.” She laughs, unsure of whether to open the gift or ignore it for food.

“Please, open it. Or don't. Whatever you like.” Miguel chuckles.

She opens the small gift anyway and inside is a simple yet elegant set of earrings and a necklace. Your mother gasps softly, placing a hand over her chest. “Oh, Miguel…” She murmurs, feeling touched that this young man had done everything for her approval when she loved him the moment you talked so fondly of him. She looks up at him and his hopeful expression. Despite his stress lines and big muscular frame, her mother instincts saw a little boy with big brown eyes. She cups his cheek and pats it gently. “It’s beautiful.” Miguel smiles in relief, letting out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. In that moment, he wouldn’t mind this being his new family with you. He glances at you after your mom begins to pull the necklace out and you beam up at him. “I told you.” You whisper with a scrunch of your nose, teasing him. He chuckles and squeezes your hand. “I guess so.” He murmurs with an adoring look, kissing your temple.

A/N: i love making miguel cute and nervous i feel like we don't get to see that side often <3

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