THE BREAKING POINT

THE BREAKING POINT

🔞 Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: strangers to close friends to lovers, college au, slow burn, fluff, angst, and older brother's academic rival. (more content warnings will be put up for every chapter released.)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when rivalries go too far, Miguel takes it to another level of extreme. he goes after you, his academic rival’s little sister, not knowing the mess and (beautiful) chaos he's getting into.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 (𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 🧪⚠️)

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | my love mine all mine

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | coming soon

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 | coming soon

Comment if you want to be tagged in this series! (it'll make things easier for me 😭)

hello there! 21, but going on anon. could i request a pregnant reader who is feeling incredibly insecure about her body. after an instance where a woman openly flirts and asks miguel out in front of her, she breaks down crying. miguel reassures her and they start having the craziest, wildest, hottest sex imaginable

GROWING PAINS

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: pregnancy is a challenge, not for the morning sickness or having the urge to pee every other step but for the outside challenges that create tension.

✭ content warning: mentions of morning sickness (if you have emetophobia, skip the first five paragraphs), degenerate home-wrecker, comfort, pregnancy sex, and p-in-v penetration.

✭ word count: +2.1k words

✭ (a/n): let me get a crack at it 😋 I had fun working on this 💜🪻 (if there are errors I missed, please let me know!)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

The nausea of the day came in like waves during a full moon at the beach. The smell of toilet water and bleach greeted your nose while kneeling in front of the toilet before you. Dry heaving became a regular habit as the smell of toilet water didn’t contribute to the nauseating sensation.

“Are we okay, cariño?” His voice sent chills down your spine as you rested your head on the toilet seat. “No…” You whined, sounding like a child who had their toy taken away. “C’mon, don't rest your head right there…” Miguel cooes to you.

A low groan escapes your throat as you wait in anticipation to throw up, already wanting the feeling to pass by. “Do you want some tea? It'll help with the morning sickness.” He suggests to you before kneeling next to you and rubbing your lower back slowly.

“Yeah…” You groaned out before your body lurched another heave out of you.

“It’s okay…” He whispers quietly and holds your hair back. “Let it out if you need to.” He blows air to your face, cooling you down from the warm sensation you feel all over your body. But the salvation in your mouth still lingered.

“Thanks…”

/

“Miguel!” You called out to him from the bathroom, looking down at your swelling belly. “Yes, cariño?” He steps into view, returning from his morning workout. A soft kiss on the forehead gives you small butterflies in your stomach before you remember why you called him in.

“Can you please get more coconut butter at the store? I need some more for the stretch marks.” You raised (his) your hoodie to reveal the glistening stretch marks and slightly swelling belly.

“Hmm, did we run out already?” He makes his way over before he ruffles your hair and looks through the medicine cabinet. “Could have sworn we had some.” He mumbles before his palm rests on your belly, allowing his thumb to caress the marks.

“No, we ran out.” You add, getting on your tiptoes to peek at the medicine cabinet for the umpteenth time.

He nods after his eyes mindlessly scan the pill bottles, toiletries, and some of your make-up items. He clicks his tongue and moves his palm away from your belly. “Yeah, I'll get you some more, cariño. Let me jump in the shower first and then go to the store. I don't need to smell like sweat.”

The comment made you pout. The post-workout smell always lured you in, like catnip. You could cling near him and bask in his smell if you wanted to.

“Do you want to join me?” You nod eagerly, taking off the hoodie and tossing it at him.

/

“Do you want to go to the bathroom, sweetheart?” This is the same umpteenth question he asked you while you walked around your local mall down. “No, I'm fine.” He lightly squeezes your hand and gives you the look. The “you better go” look, as Miguel always fell victim to making frequent stops in gas stations or stores to satisfy your bladder whenever the two of you drove around.

“Just go, baby…” Miguel sighs, patting your lower back before he playfully spanks your rear.

You huff before you shuffle into the public restroom while resting your hand on your swelling tummy.

The sight was always amusing for Miguel; it was adorable—the sundress, the comfy sandals, and your hair neatly done. But the adorable sight was interrupted almost immediately. Two hands grasp his arm with such a grip that it can make anyone’s muscle ache from under the skin, even enough to bruise the muscle. Miguel shrugs it off and looks over to the source. “Aren’t you handsome?” The voice coaxed him before her hands squeezed his bicep. He shrugs his arm away and looks over to the bathrooms instead.

“I’m married.” Miguel’s statement lingered in the air before she looked at his arm and took in the sight of him like he was a tall glass of water.

“So am I.” She giggles before she looks up at Miguel with doe eyes. The discomfort arose in his stomach as if he had had a terrible dinner waiting to be released.

“Where’s your husband then?” He questions, hearing the fear in his voice. He shrugs her hand away from his arm again and waits at the bathroom in anticipation for his little wife, you, to return. But the yapping woman continued to speak, not getting any social signals that Miguel wasn't interested.

“He’s at—” Her words cut off before her features go ghost white, enough to mistake her for a blank piece of printer paper waiting to be scribbled on with a permanent marker.

“Miguel.”

A smile of relief paints his features as he walks over to you and gently takes your hand. Your attention is on the woman, seeing her twirl her hair with her fingers. She only giggles and immediately stops when she sees your swelling belly underneath your sundress. “Oh honey, I bet you can't satisfy your husband while you look like you're about to pass out.” She continues to yap, not caring about the looks of disgust from other women around the area. “Cariño, let’s go.” Miguel urges, not comfortable with the woman now harassing you and, arguably, your unborn child.

“Married men are allowed to cheat on their pregnant wives…”

You open your mouth, only to get tugged away from her by your husband, who does not want you to make a scene in such a public environment.

“Not interested. I love my wife dearly.” He steps in, lightly tugging you away from the uncomfortable space.

But hearing the words wasn't enough. For the past few weeks, you've been down on the stoops. Despite being your second trimester, the morning sickness faded away but lingered like a bug—the stretch marks on your belly, the constant bathroom stops, and the aching feet.

The weight of a burden rested on your shoulders like you were carrying pails of water up a mountain with your heart. It pulled you down into the earth’s core.

“C’mon, baby…” He pleads once again, gently tugging you away from the degenerate woman.

/

The car ride back home from the mall felt like the most uncomfortable situation for Miguel. Sure, it wasn't his fault, but it damn well felt like it was when this woman threw herself at him, having no good intentions.

Despite him pushing her away with his words, she relented nonstop, picking and picking at Miguel like a vet ticking fleas away from a stray cat.

He glanced at you, but you turned away from him while sitting on the passenger side, looking only at the window. He occasionally squeezed your thigh while trying to engage in a conversation. But it always ended immediately with your simple one-word answers.

/

Your portions were smaller during dinner. A small scoopful of your dinner was ‘enough’ for you.

“Cariño,” His voice breaks the silence on the dining room table while you move a small broccoli around with your fork. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”

He frowns at the meek portions. This was your favorite dinner throughout your pregnancy. Now? You eat as if it were the thing you despised the most.

“Cariño, can we talk about what happened?”

“No, no, we don't.” You intervene, stopping his words.

He furrows his brows, and the subtle pout on his lips says that he isn't going to let this go. “…yes, we do.” He steps in, gently taking your hand in his.

“Cariño, honey.” His eyes soften, allowing his thumb to massage your knuckles in small circles.

“I am sorry—”

You shake your head, looking up from your plate. “No, don't apologize. It’s not even your fault.” You put his words to an end before you slide your hand away from his. “I feel…”

You sit back in your seat and put your hands up in defeat, feeling tears form. “I don't know.”

Nothing came to mind. Your brain was murky like muddy water on the side of the road. “I feel bloated and unappealing and pent up.” You expressed many words, but none nailed the coffin of feelings that were forming in your heart. His palm finds its way to your cheek and lovingly cups it while wiping away your tears.

“Hey,” His mellow tone greets you but doesn't fully envelope you. “Please, cariño. Take a moment to breath.”

“I don't know,” You sniffle a bit before looking at your swelling belly. “I don't like being unappealing.” The words finally found on your lips, spilling out like word vomit.

“No, baby. Look at you. You are beautiful.” He places his hand on your belly, slowly moving the sundress around with his touch. “You are carrying our baby, our beautiful baby. You've been nothing but glowing. You are glowing to the point where you light up a room. You make rooms look good. A room where our family will grow, all thanks to you.”

You laughed through your tears, hearing his ramble. But the simile managed to put the tears to an end. “You make spaces look good, feel good.” He slowly helps you from your seat, easing you to your feet. He stands behind you, bringing you close to his chest. His hands slowly move, soon placing them on the bottom of your swelling belly, lifting the belly upwards, easing your lower back.

You stagger back in relief, resting back on him. “There we go.” He whispers, seeing your brows relax and your eyes close blissfully. “But I think that woman is right. You look exhausted.”

You hum to his statement, caving in to his warmth and touch. “Yeah,” You exhale. “I am exhausted.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

“…please.”

/

"Let me know if it's too much, cariño." He whispers, slowly laying you down on your shared bed. Your back decompressed against the mattress, earning a sigh of relief from you. "It's never too much." Your reassuring smile puts him at ease in his lower stomach. "Just let me know, please." He still pleads, taking off his sweatshirt and disregarding it to some odd corner of the room. "Let's lift this..." His hands work their way to the hem of the dress, lifting the skirt up.

"Lay on your side for me, nena." He demands, slowly helping you lay down and surrounding your belly with toss pillows.

The sound of his zipper filled the space, causing you to look over your shoulder and see Miguel immediately taking off his pants and boxers. His hands pull at your underwear, revealing your core, waiting for him and him only. The sound of the bed settling down increased the anticipation, feeling him bring you close to his chest before his hand fondles your breast ever so gently. "Take a deep breath-"

"Just put it in, Miguel."

Your demands come true as you feel the same familiar stretch at your core, earning a low moan from the both of you. "There we go." He groans, grinding his bulbous tip against your cervix.

"Harder, Miguel." You plead to him, feeling the soft grinding and his length rubbing against your puffy clit. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He whispers, keeping the soft motions.

"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise.” You sigh and only push your rear to his hip. “I can handle it.”

That sentence is enough for Miguel to cave in and come to his desires. “Oh my god…” You sigh, pushing down onto his length. The slow strokes savored your gummy walls as if you were the main dish at a fine cuisine. “Look at you, so pretty.”

The slow strokes slowly became harsh and rapid. Gushing and slapping filled the space as you felt your nails claw at the bedsheets. “You like that, huh?” He breaths out before he lets go of your breasts and holds onto your hip instead. The single twitch on his cock sends you into a chokehold, leaving you clawing for more.

“Yes, keep doing that.”

A small smirk forms on Miguel’s lips before he keeps the same tempo before he slows down. “Oh, this?” He picks up the pace, similar to before, but with heavy thrusts.

“Yes, that,” You breathe, crashing your hips against his.

“Only for you, cariño.”

The rapid thrusts are enough to sway the bed from side to side, allowing the bed to creak with every motion. Soft pants from your lips escaped before you took Miguel’s hand. “Are you doing well, cariño?” You drunkenly nod before raising your leg and feeling his hand grasp onto your knee, allowing easier access and movement.

“I’m close, Migs.” You buried your face onto a decorative pillow, muffling the moan that slowly evolved into a soft cry of pleasure.

“Together, cariño. Together.” He groans, keeping the same delicious friction. The sensation of his length against your puffy clit creates mouth-watering friction, enough for you to move in sync with his motions.

“It's so good…!” You babble over and over again, tears of ecstasy rolling down your cheeks. “We’re there, almost there.” He groans out before the two of you collapse onto each other. “Oh my god…” You whined out as Miguel’s rapid breath fans your skin. “You okay, mamás?” He gives you a forehead kiss before he slowly pulls out and only nuzzles close to your neck.

“I feel better than ever.”

Thank you for the tag, cupcake!

I am deprived from a hug tbh 😭

No-Pressure Tags: @ultravioletrayz @muchosbesitos @gltzpzy @bluesidez + anyone else who wants to play along!

Consider yourself tagged if you are reading this:

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz (How Fandom Would See You If You Were A Fictional Character)

Thank you for the tag @machiavellli !

NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

credit to: @mar_mar0u on Instagram/ @/marmar0u on X and Tumblr!

✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: cat and mouse chase? more like a cat and spider chase…

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader and miguel have an established relationship, suggestive comments? miguel being a complete flirt, the reader being fed-up, make-out session? flirty interactions, soft smut, miguel is uncircumcised, soft dom miguel, reader is a little assertive in bed, dick-grabbing (?), and this is hella cheesy (idc I had fun)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: >1k words

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: my doing 😛 (my indecisive ass CANNOT) this took forever to work on as my ass got too indecisive on how to write it and how to execute it

to my cat owners, tell your cat I said: psst, psst. 🐈‍⬛🩵 (specifically to the cat that lives on my campus)

𝒀𝑶𝑼’𝑹𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 𝑰𝑵 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑬

º・🤍 º.▫︎º・

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves to mess with you whenever he has the chance. He would do ridiculous burglaries to get your attention. He is like a cat running to chase a laser point to catch it but fails every time. But when you see him, he always gets away… He would break into a pet store to free the cats, to get your attention.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 would find ways to flirt with you, no matter how innocent it sounds or how sexual it is. And do you like it? A little too much. The pickup lines got cleverer every time you ran into him.

“You're the only woman who turns my world upset down.” He sneers, hanging upside down on a lamppost with your webbing around his ankle.

“Uh-huh…” You huffed out, not paying attention to him.

“You got my blood rushing, and I'm not talking about my head. It's going to my dick—”

“Okay, enough.”

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 is like a stray cat whenever he comes into your apartment. This man would crawl into your apartment and start with his late night “𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝒁𝑽𝑶𝑼𝑺” with you.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who makes biscuits on your blankets and pillows half-asleep, somehow ripping your blankets. Because of this, he would buy you new blankets every other week, going into different stores to not see the same workers every other week.

He becomes domesticated—

When you're not home, he washes your new blankets with your favorite laundry detergent and always leaves a rose on your bed, no matter what. The thorns are always snipped off. He doesn't want you to cut your pretty fingers :(

(As a bonus, he trims the thorns with his claws.)

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 make sure that you get home safely. Every night, between 9:30 and 10:15, he stands on the roof of a building across from your apartment, waiting to see your window light up with that familiar warm light.

A sigh of relief escapes his lungs when he sees you enter your apartment after returning from your high-demanding job as a photographer (and New York’s superhero).

Seeing you drop your bags and remove your sweater was a good indicator for him that you were ready to settle for the night. Especially when it's a weekday.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves long nights with nothing but intimacy, especially after you had a long night. The sensation of being free from his suit while being bare in bed with you brings serotonin to him, enjoying the soft touches and caresses. The touches slowly evolve into gropes, to the point where he is on top of you, planting soft kisses on your cheeks and temple.

He loves holding you close while slowly stroking his length against your puffy clit, enjoying the hood of skin stroking the vein on his length. The slow rub is enough to pent you up, enough for you to grab his length gently and pull him closer to your entrance. Seeing you tug at it, he chuckles, guiding him closer to your gummy walls.

"Seems like you know what you're doing, sweetheart. Go on, it's yours."

Between the gentle pinch of your thumb and pointer, you gently pinch at his foreskin, pulling it down to see the familiar mauve tip you love to see when he's pent up. You again pull at his length with such vigor, finally inviting the bulbous tip into your soft, warm, gummy walls. "No foreplay?" He quips before he feeds your needy pussy more of his length, slowly and gently. Your fingernails rake down his back like a rake gathering leaves in a yard. When he bottoms out, a breathy moan escapes from deep in his chest cavity, a groan that pleads to be let out from such pent-up stress and frustration.

"Home sweet home," He sighs, grinding his aching tip against your g-spot. You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary commentary, wanting this man to shut up. But the unexpected thrust sent you into heaven and back to earth, grasping onto your bedsheets as if it would anchor you down from the heavenly sensation while a guttural moan escapes.

"Good, good. You're doing so good." He croons while slowly pulling out and thrusting his length back in, grasping onto the fat of your hips, allowing his claws to sink into your soft skin while keeping up the same smooth pace. The sight of your soft breasts rippling against his thrusts awakened something in him, allowing him to eagerly take your nipple in between his teeth, allowing his canines to graze against the sensitive bud every other second.

But he always lets you finish first, no matter how long it takes for you to finish. It could be an hour, and he's not going to stop until he wants you to squirt on his cock, soaking both of y'all and the fitted bedsheets. But it can sometimes get the man pussy whipped, literally.

Groans slowly turn into mewls and resort to sloppy, makeout sessions with you, wanting to block the sounds he was producing. In between kisses, he whispers in between the kisses and breaths soft praises while he gently strokes his cock, yearning to be indulged in your warmth. The usual stoic expression wipes away like a spill off a kitchen counter, changing into a lolled expression, seeing your chest rise and fall rapidly. But the moments while you finish, he accompanies you, holding you close to his chest, muffled groans against his skin.

"Good job, sweetheart. We did it."

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves to cuddle with you after. This man loves sleeping on your bed while you play with his hair. He groans from the back of his throat, mimicking the sound of a cat purring. The vibrations return to you, creating a funny feel against your skin.

He denies and denies that he purrs, but the vibrations from his groans don't help his case.

He yaps in his sleep, too. He mumbles, barely coherent nonsense.

But you don't mind it as he sleeps like a dog (cat) on the floor.

PLEASE

Intertwining Souls with Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader

A/N: I saw this DELICIOUS ASS GIF AND GOT INSPIRED (thanks @mrsoharaa for putting it on my dash HEHE🥰) VERY IMPORTANT VISUAL for the following thot. 😏

CW: SUGGESTIVE, MINORS DNI

------

Imagine lying in bed naked with Miguel. No expectations. No hidden intentions for it to lead to anything stronger than simply laying on top of him, completely bare against his chest as you exchange loving, lingering, lazy kisses. Soft groans breathing into a passionate exhale he captures against your mouth as his tongue addictively weaves with yours. Nothing but cozy thick blankets and this plush bed and this tender man you're melting against.

Enjoying the way his muscles wrap around you. Relishing the fact you're safe in the strength of this giant of a man. The outline of his body and every ridge, scar, dip, and callous of his skin imprinting onto yours as if it's the first, despite countless meetings before.

Letting the heat from each other's bodies consume each other as you create a cozy, sensual, intimate space from the affectionate act that's taking place.

The world quiet and desolate outside completely separate from the one you're currently lost in. Morning still hours away as your souls tangle with one another in the deep nighttime.

-----

🖤

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 2)

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, mentions of animal abuse, tension, name calling, No proofread.

Summary: An unexpected accident opens a new door.

A/N: Yee ✨. Hope you enjoy and like. Happy to be writing again 🥹💖.

Previous

If there was something Miguel had to admit, was the finesse and comfort he was surrounded with. Cause in all honesty, he was expecting a poorly kept barn, full of unused and rusty machinery that would harbor many unwanted crawlers and creatures.

Not an apartment-like place full of commodities that his younger self and his family could only dream of back then. Impecable showers he'd only got to see at the hotel rooms whenever Conchata could afford them. A pristine and comfortable bed for his own, unlike the smelly, stained with suspicious fluids and borderline itchy mattress he used to share with Gabriel back at the shelters, if they found space.

He had a whole place for himself, including a well distributed office and tacking room within. Tools at his immediate disposition, same for men and horses.

Much to his dismay so far he hadn't seen anything out of place, except for the rich family living in his property.

So far, the beasts that carried William, the same that used to terrify him but now gave him a fat and healthy amount of money, laid resting a couple of feet away from him, feeding themselves with the freshest of fruit picks and hay. Their strict and perfectly balanced diet would serve their purpose of keeping them healthy, hence, adding even more value to them.

Miguel awakened ten minutes before his alarm went off. A custom his body refused to leave out completely and served him for properly stretch his body joints before he gave his day a start.

Last night's events with you had surely taken him by surprise. You didn't look past your twenties, and so far you had been civil. A gorgeous and civil, soaked mess.

Miguel thought William had a boy or at least two children, but it was you and only you. The Pastor's daughter. William J. Anderton's most cherished treasure and one of Santa Margarita's belles.

Someone that would make the perfect tool for his best interests. He wished for Gabriel's arrival to be sooner, but he knew good things took time. He knew in the end, everything would be worth it.

With a deep inhale and a towel already on his shoulder, his day and revenge had just begun.

Morning had gone almost in a blink, one moment was seven am, and the breakfast bar was too crowded for his likings, and the next thing he knew it was almost ten. He'd have breakfast or lunch later, after all, the horseshoes of a lovely brown mustang horse named Joaquín, demanded his attention a bit too longer than it should.

His poor tolerance to half assed jobs was something not even his enemy could tear from him.

No wonder why that cabrón was so desperate to hire someone.

The horses although well fed, were neglected. The farrier had either scamming William for the pay or he really had no idea what he was doing.

A relieved neigh came through Joaquín, as soon as Miguel removed the jagged and poorly hammered horseshoes off it's hooves.

"A saber quién fue el pendejo que te hizo esto, papito." (God knows whose the asshole who did this to you, boy.)

Joaquín just snorted while remaining still. The cutting and hammering soon begun, Miguel was set into changing every single one of them, until Joaquín whined while it's head bobbed, as if happy to see whoever that showed up in the area.

The delicious smell of food made Miguel to turn his head towards the source and his mouth salivated. Pavlov's conditioning experiment wouldn't require a bell on him, not when his stomach grumbled and the hearty breakfast laid in a thick white plate, ontop of a hand carved and wooden tray. In your hands.

He blinked underneath his hat and his brows puckered both in confusion and initial mistrust as he turned to face you.

Dressed up in comfortable and pretty clothes, a completely different sight from last night's events. Awaiting for him to notice you.

"Uhm... Hi. Sorry for interrupting. Got you some food."

His brow now quirked before finishing the last of Joaquín's hooves.

"Though, I could've get there on my own, I appreciate it, señorita."

With a nervous chuckle you squeezed the tray a bit tighter before handling it to him.

"I know, but we don't serve breakfast past nine am, heh. And I didn't see you in the dining hall today. Besides, it's my own way to thank you for your help last night."

What is she playing at?

"I just did what it was right to do, there's nothing to thank me for." He shrugged briefly with a barely there smile, letting his posture to stand tall and proud, towering over you, even if he leaned against his current work station.

"Still, thank you. My nana Victoria, she prepared you the breakfast, I helped her with the pancakes and the lemonade, hope you like it, it's fresh."

A little proud smile came in your face as soon as you glanced towards the plate. A portion that would definitely feed two, but for a demanding job such as his, and a man his height, it was more than perfect.

"Thanks." He mumbled with a nod as he scratched the back of his neck.

Miguel knew he had to tame and be discreet with his hatred towards whoever unfortunate enough to wear the Anderton surname. He didn't want to be obvious with his dark intentions, even if his inner urge to tell you to wrap the conversation up struggled to come out at the surface.

Not that you were annoying, he simply didn't like being interrupted when too deep in his job, even if the food smelled like heavens itself.

Yet, gorgeous or not, you were an extension of his natural enemy, for simply sharing that wretched surname and William's blood. Someone that seemed a bit too sweet for his likings, and stared like a curious kitten his way. At least you saved him the trip all the way back to the breakfast bar.

"Also... would like to ask you something, if that's ok."

He put the tray on the nearest surface and turned your way, his thumb and index finger resting on his belt buckle as the other arm, his forearm specifically supported his weight against a post. His expression softened, like his voice as he leaned towards you.

"Yes, señorita?"

You gulped and cleared your throat nervously. His eyes crinkling with a proud beam as he caught the way your hands squeezed tighter the tray.

"Papa said that the person coming, meaning you, was an expert on horses. And given your resume, I wanna know if Joaquín is alright? Heard Agustín nicked him yesterday. He's the eldest."

At least you seemed to care for the animals in here in a deeper level than just feeding them.

"He's alright, nothing too bad."He nodded while gazing over the door and then return his eyes towards you, "Was changing his horseshoes actually. Not to be a fish spine in your throat, hermosa. But whoever doing that-" He pointed at the jagged and bent nails thrown on the floor, "Hope you had him fired. The bastard didn't injury any nerves in his hooves, luckily."

You nodded vehemently with concern.

"Oh, he was. That's why I wanted to meet you properly and thank you personally for your services." he chuckled, "I know I said this yesterday, and that it seems like we've neglected the horses, but I'm glad I convinced dad to hire someone ASAP. We really needed it. Vets took too long for an appointment, but I'm sure Joaquín's happy to be less pained."

His lips pursed with a soft blow of his nose, almost suppressing a roll of his eyes at your constant nervous chatter. He didn't bite, yet. Although, the cordiality and flirty facade slipped on. A curious little thing you were, and he amused himself with the effect he knew his persona inflicted in others. You weren't the exception.

"Señorita, you don't have to thank me anything. It's my job, and I'll do it gladly."

"You're a great help already. But I'm happy your experience talks for itself. How long have you been in this business?"

"A decade already."

A low whistle came from your lips and his chest puffed with pride. He loved flaunting whenever the chance demanded.

"Yeah, you're definitely the right person for this." You chuckled.

"What about you? What does a lady like you does around in a place like this?"

Joaquín tapped the floor, sniffing the air upon sensing the smell of food.

"I manage dad's accounting and I'm in charge of the kitchen actually."

Could it be even more perfect? he doubt it. Either the universe finally granted him everything his rotten heart wanted to make up for all those suffering years ago, or it tested his morals constantly. He didn't care on neither. The chance was there and he'd seize it to the fullest.

"If you ever need help with the numbers, don't hesitate in telling me. I like' em." His smile stretched a bit wider.

"I'll keep it in mind."

Your hands clasped the wooden tray and smiled sheepishly at him.

"But yeah, uhm... Won't interrupt any further. Lunch is at one pm. See you later, Miguel."

With a soft wave of your hands and a hasty step, you left him alone.

A deep sigh escaped his lips and Joaquín budged his bicep, to then walk over his tray of food. Miguel chuckled as he looked through the contents. A little bowl of ripe and sweet cherries on the side, the reason why Joaquín was flapping and whining excitedly.

"Alright, here. Have some." He gave a couple of them to then seat and eat his late breakfast. The whole conversation left him with renovated eagerness to keep his unsuspecting revenge going.

It was perfect, almost too perfect, but suspicions at the universe mattered little when he simply had to somehow convince you to show him William's finances. And given your meekness it'd be a rather easy thing for him to gather intel.

He celebrated his idea with a big gulp of the lemonade. It tasted perfect, like the envisioned ending of his vendetta.

Part of him knew he didn't need to look further as to why his childhood home was turned into this industrial-like resort. Fertile land, fruit trees in every direction, with cherries leading on the way, as they were mostly around the pooling area from the manor, apples, peaches, lemons, oranges.

He remembered the lemon tree and the cherry ones. Conchata always made him a cherry pie for his birthday.

Miguel had to admit that some changes had done good to the property. The least William could do was to take care of his gold mine and keep it all good and nice, once he'd recover it.

Once he was done, he put the plate out of Joaquín's reach and went back to work.

"Easy there!" One of the helped yelped, as soon as the black friesian stallion kicked his own door open, freeing himself from the confinements he was temporarily put in.

An angry whine came when the beast felt a man behind him and kicked in the air, shooing off any menace from his path

"Qué la chin... No! Así no!" Miguel yelled as his helpers tried their best to keep Agustín in place so he could take a proper look to assess the damage on him. But the beast only matched his stubbornness.

"He's kicking off, Miguel!" Another helper, James yelled as he closed the enclosure. Lassos flew through the air, catching nothing while at it, the black beast too proud and elusive to fall under such simpleton of traps.

Agustín's nose flared as his honeyed eyes remained on Miguel, daring him to come after him. It was Miguel's turn to have his nose flaring

"I can do this all day boy." He spat on the floor as his helpers eyed him warily, "A ver quién se cansa primero." He grumbled the last for himself as he hoped in the ring. (Let's see who gets tired first)

His jaw tensed as he secured his gloves. His flannel shirt constricting his torso as he made his way towards the stallion, that wasted no time into kicking with his front legs as he snorted angrily.

"I don't wanna hurt you." His hands rose in defense as he carefully approached the neighing and angry footing horse.

Miguel could see a couple of long healed scars on his sides, hind legs and even neck.

He was whipped too rough.

"Help me help you, boy. I won't hurt you, okay?" He stepped closer and Agustín blew through his nose, whipping his mane and tail as Miguel came closer.

"Easy there" His hands still remained in a place where the stallion could see them, "It's ok. You're safe, campeón."

Agustín stepped back but didn't run away in a go, rather remained still, scared and unsure on what to do as Miguel caressed his sides with gentleness, raking his long fingers through the soft and somewhat shiny plush skin.

He took a closer look to the freshly healed up pink-ish tiny scars on his hips, undoubtedly made by the constant use of spurs. If something about training and rehabbing horses had taught him so far, was the different sort of tempers many had.

And the Friesian breed was everything but this muscly and angry mass of nerves. Agustín was stressed and nervous, and besides that obvious fact, all that anger lashing out was actually fear.

Agustín was abused. The scars were fresh, but he discarded the idea of William abusing Agustín as he only had a couple of weeks in the Ranch.

Miguel could only deduct of him being used for races or workforce.

The helpers stared with their breath hitched, unable to move, afraid they'd scare away the beast, that remained at ease under Miguel's touch.

The annoying and ear ripping ringtone he had assigned Dana echoed through the space with enough loudness to spook Agustín away.

"Fuck" He cursed under his breath and his nerves nearly stopped working as Agustín, kicked the door open in a go and escaped.

"Shit! Get the lassos!"

Miguel wasted no time as he ran after Agustín as his phone was off again.

Qué mujer para chingarme la existencia, Dios mio. (This woman is screwing my life over)

His mind slapped himself to focus and keep trailing after the horse. One of the helpers galloped near him and got off his back, to give Miguel space and soon he galloped after Agustín.

"Get out of the way!!" He yelled as he urged the horse to throttle faster, focusing in getting Agustín and everyone away from danger.

People ran in the opposite directions as Agustín suddenly turned to the left.

"Shit!" Miguel's eyes widened upon realizing where the stallion was going. Straight to the ranch main territory. The manor, more specifically, the poolside.

A loud splash gave his heartbeat a stop, and as he galloped, he saw you coming out straight from the pool and sitting next to the thickets to eat, cherries.

"Puta madre"

He growled and held the horse up, jumping immediately off him, to then hop off the fence separating the pool from the rest.

"Get away from there!" He yelled while his eyes remained on the approaching shadow of Agustín.

"W-What are you-"

Alarmed, you watched him as he pulled you by your arm and brought your bikini dressed body closer to him by your waist and you yelped at the sudden contact. His rough and gloved hands remained holding you.

Miguel had pulled you out last second before Agustín bursted in with a loud and shaky neigh. Falling onto the pool with another splash that soaked you both and the summer chairs sprawled around.

The commotion had alarmed everyone, even you.

"What happened?!"

Miguel let your waist go and you craned your head to meet his stern gaze.

"My apologies, señorita. Agustín escaped the precinct. Are you okay?"

"Yeah" your head hesitated but nodded, "Just a bit shaken up."

Not because of the horse, more like his strength. He had taken you like your weight was nothing, like a ragdoll out of the shelf.

The stallion soon was approached by the rest of the helpers as Victoria, an alarmed Rosaura and William came out.

Vicky was the first to approach you, with a towel and immediately covered you before Rosaura noticed how close you were to Miguel.

"Niña! My goodness are you okay?"

Her motherly hands palmed your face and neck to see you were in a piece.

Rosaura's screams and complains were expected, yet still, the yapping and acute of her voice rang uncomfortably Miguel's ears.

"Dios mio, uno puede dejar a esta gente sola un momento porque van y ya tienen un desastre hecho!" (My goodness, one can't leave you people alone cause you make a mess)

Rosaura's gaze settled on Miguel as the other helpers pulled Agustín out, then shifted to William.

" I told you to put that damned horse down, William! Look at the mess he did!"

The head of the Andertons sighed and  held a hand to her, which immediately made Rosaura to put her hands in her hips.

"Mr. O'Hara." William called as he approached while seizing the damage Agustín did.

Some chairs fell into the pool, like some dirt and some trampled cherries, polluting the water with their juices, soiling it. Some thickets were destroyed, like part of the fence.

"Care to explain how on earth that happened?"

"Mr. Anderton, I'm deeply sorry. Agustín escaped the training area and-"

"Evidently." William retorted and it took all his willpower for Miguel to not punch him square in the face. His jaw tensed and his chest puffed slightly, adding even more size to him. But his voice remained calm as he spoke.

"He was spooked and ran away. Then I bet he was lured by the smell of cherries. Horses love them."

William eyed him clinically and a silvered brow quirked his way.

"Mr. O'Hara, I hired you because your resumé told me you had enough experience to rehab any horse. Might tell ya, I don't like liars."

Miguel's shoulders tensed and his teeth ground together inside his plump mouth.

"Dad." You called, and approached, covered by the towel ad Rosaura stood next to William.

It was clear for Miguel who had put in more job into making you. But that fact mattered little when Rosaura spoke again.

"Because of that stunt of your stupid horse my poolside is ruined!"

"I'm not putting down a horse that is a rare breed just cause over some stupid plants. We'll fix it tomorrow. Stop it."

Rosaura rolled her eyes and with a huff and a dramatic drape of her cashmere poncho, she went inside, ordering some tea for her nerves. While William slicked his whitening hair back.

"Where did you buy the horse, Mr. Anderton?"

"Why?" William's voice flat and borderline suspicious, but you gave him a warning look that the Pastor ignored.

"Because, unless you love abused animals, I wouldn't buy from them again."

William had to blink as if he hadn't heard properly "Come again?"

"Agustín is terrified of whips. He has scars all over his body. And definitely hate spurs, his hips have just healed from them."

"And what does it have to do with the fact that your incompe-"

"Dad! Can you listen to me?" Your voice demanded your father's attention almost immediately as you heaved while standing between both men.

"If it wasn't for Miguel saving me, Agustín would've hurt me and pretty bad. I'm no animal expert but these things take time. And he just told you the poor horse was abused!"

"What are you doing here anyways? You're supposed to be verifying the deposits." William crossed his arms and your frown deepened.

"I did. They're done. Left you a copy on your office."

With another deep exhale, the pastor rolled his eyes ever softly while shaking his head and pointed at Miguel.

"Do not let that happen again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you," He pointed your way with a disapproving look, "go get dressed."  William grumbled before turning around and leaving.

Vicky had been gone the moment Rosaura walked in the manor, leaving you and Miguel alone.

He was about to speak but his phone went off again. His face soured and you just watched as he pulled the trinket from his soaked pocket, surprised it still worked and then turn it off.

"Are you okay, Miguel?"

He nodded and adjusted his hat, "Yeah. My apologies again, señorita."

"Ah stop. You saved me. I'd be injured if it wasn't for you. Sorry for dad though. He's... quite strict regarding the horses."

"Noted."He nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose, the whole commotion gave him a headache, but he was glad the only downs of this situation were some stupid plants and murky water on the pool, " Still, some processes take time. but Agustín will be rehabbed. You've got my word ma'am."

"Ah, stop. Don't call me that. That's how people call my mom!"

He chuckled while taking a proper yet discreet look your way.

"Okay, then, Señorita."

Your hair stuck at your back, soaked. A soft curve in your stomach did a wonderful job to get your lovely hips a perfect amount of plumpness, same for your thighs.

His eyes raked briefly over your chest, amused at the dinky print of cherries on your upper bikini top, before glancing at the summer chair you were sitting before the mess.

"Or you can call me by my own name. It ain't that hard, is it?"

"At all. But feels improper of me."

In truth, it felt too foreign and like sandpaper on his tongue. Too Anderton-ish. A tad unpleasant even.

"You like cherries?"

"A lot. This part of the property is full of tree of them. So I'm always eating them. It's easy to pick them." You mumbled with a bashful smile.

That would explain the sweet smell coming from you. Your hands specially.

"Right. No wonder why Agustín came right away. They're ripe I suppose."

You nodded while looking at the tree. The distant calling of your name from Rosaura, had your eyes rolling and groaning.

"Mother calls." You chuckled and picked up your cherry bowl, "I think I'll be forever in debt with you for today."

You think?

"It's my pleasure to help."

"And get yourself dry. You'll catch a cold. And stop skipping meals."

"Yes, ma'am." His deep and buttery voice fluttered in your head.

Your lips pursed and gave gim a playful scoff.

"Dinner is at 6."

"I'll be there."

"See you later then, Miguel."

"See you around, Cerecita."

If it wasn't for you being a mere means to his ends, he'd find that little flush in your cheeks adorable when he baptized you with such fitting name.

With a tip of hat he turned around and returned to his barn. The smile faded as soon as he crossed the threshold of his barn.

Angry fingers dialed Dana's number, it didn't took much of her to answer.

"Miggy! God, I'm missing you so-"

"Hija de tu pinche madre, I've already told you to not fucking call me during the day. Or ever! The fuck you want?!"

There was a moment of silence on Dana's end but quickly she sighed.

"Sorry to call you like that, I was missing you and-"

"God... I almost, fucking almost got fired because of your stupid call."

"But you aren't fired, are you?"

His anger boiled like a raging kettle.

"Listen to me, Danita."

And oh she was listening. He only used that endearment mode of her name whenever he was pissed at her.

"Don't fucking call me."

"You're being dramatic. Besides, how will you get any new contacts in your list?"

Fuck.

"You often forget I was the one that got you introduced to the clientèle you've got, Miguel. Let's not act disrespectful towards each other, shall we?"

Hija de puta.

"Don't call me during the day."

"Then, I'll call you during nights, babe. You're better behaving and not acting like a manwhore out there. I know you. You'd do anything for your stupid revenge."

And she wasn't mistaken, sadly. Dana knew him all too well, Not completely, but well enough to hit the nail in his sore points.

"You done?"

"Nope. Gabriel told me to tell you to wait for a month more. Things have taken a weird turn on his end. So he wanna solve whatever first."

Goddammit, Gabri.

"Right. Bye."

Before Dana could even speak, Miguel cut the call and turned his phone off to charge.

How on earth would he wait for another month? His plan was definitely taking small detours he didn't like. Impromptu things weren't in his vocabulary, much less daily life. Everything was strictly planned and calculated.

However, today's events were definitely a turn he wasn't ready to act on. Although the flirty and kindness mask had worked wonders, his next step was clear.

He had to ruse you into showing him the Ranch's finances. And now that he knew how to approach you, his plan took another steadfast step.

----

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