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dibby-io · 2 months

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It Happened One Night: Burnt Sienna & Close Encounters

(I wish I could tell you this lovely artists name, but Pinterest didn't tell me, but this is totally gonna be Miguel's face if he ever gets ahold of our shitty ex, Todd)

A hop skip and a jump over to the lawyer's office leads to 'shockingly' an argument of sorts...

You didn't have to look at Miguel to know that he was pissed. Feeling the beginnings of a migraine, you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

The tension in the car was so thick, you could cut it with a knife and serve it as a dessert option at the 'Cheesecake Factory'.

"It's legal." The lawyer had looked over the license thoroughly, before glancing between you and Miguel over his glasses. You'd winced when you heard the wood crack from the death grip Miguel had on the chairs' poor arm rests. They'd never stood a chance against his irritation.

"Scott, seriously? Are there no loopholes?" You bristled at Miguel's insistent tone. A small part of you bristled at that.

Resented it even.

You knew it was silly, but having it aired out in the open, out loud and everything, really made you think, and right then, it made you think that strangling your new husband seemed like a perfectly logical next step. The man, Scott, pushed his glasses up his nose and pursed his lips before sliding the paper back across the table.

"I don't know what to tell you, Miguel, it's a legally binding license. You two are in the eyes of the law, married. Miguel's jaw had tensed, and his gears seemed to be turning.

"Annulment, then?" The words had you sitting a little straighter. Scott shrugged and began rifling through one of his desk drawers.

"That's certainly an option we can look into, it hasn't been more than 48 hours yet, if we go ahead and start the paperwork,"

"No." Both men froze and looked at you, stunned.

"No?" Miguel's voice was low, and it held a note of warning.

After that, you'd shut down entirely, refusing to meet Miguel's cold glare. That poor lawyer, Scott, couldn't have gotten you out of his office fast enough. He'd practically herniated a disk in his rush to usher you out of the office before Miguel could murder you on his nice clean carpets. He'd given you a halfhearted smile and discretely shoved something into your hand.

Glancing down now you saw that it was a marriage counseling pamphlet with a sickeningly bright yellow smiley face plastered on the front. You easily crumpled it in your fist with a snort.

"What?" Miguel's eyes flicked momentarily from the road to you, gaging you suspiciously. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something snide about his grating tone.

"Nothing." You said woodenly, shifting to look out the window. It was quickly becoming apparent that the man was impossible. He seemed hell bent on getting his own way, and that arrogance, you could probably smell it even if you were standing up wind of him.

You sensed that Miguel was about to explode, but thus far he'd managed to keep his cool, he'd even offered to drop you off at your apartment. The bare minimum. The snide thought wormed its way into your mind, and you shook it off with a tired sigh. "You turn here."

The sound of a turning signal, and he turned silently onto your street.

"You just passed it." Your tone was dull as you tapped the glass slowly. You could hear Miguel exhale, before his over tired, irritated voice followed.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He grumbled, fingers tightening into the pleather of the steering wheel. You stiffened and shifted to glance at him over the shoulder.

"I forgot."

"You for-" He choked on the words, and turned at the stop light, whispering rapidly in Spanish under his breath. Reaching the top of the street again, he slowed when you tapped the glass and brought the car to a stop. Putting the car in park, he cut the engine and turned finally to study you.

You couldn't see his eyes behind those stupid shades, but you felt his glower, nonetheless. When he didn't say anything, and just continued staring at you, you began fidgeting in the seat.

"Why are you looking at me like that, it's weird." Still nothing. Now your ire was being peaked. Two can play this game Mr. Piss Pants. You thought dryly and folded your arms.

"And what's up with the shades anyway? I'd get it if it were sunny, but it's overcast at best." You gestured out the window for emphasis. Still nothing. He. Just. Sat There. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward just a little bit. "You know, I bet you even wear them at night, just to be contrary. Seems like something you'd do." A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"I think you're being petulant, just for the sake of being petulant." He said blandly. This time, it was your jaw that ticked. Without another word, you wrenched the car door open, and slammed it shut. Without looking back, you stormed up the steps of your apartment, fishing into your pocket for your keys.

Miguel leaned against the frame of the car and dragged a hand through his hair. You were being stubborn. He was too irritated, too tired, and too jet lagged to deal with this right now. And the way your hips twitched when you were angry wasn't helping the situation any.

Sighing, he ran a hand down his face in exasperation and grabbed the purse you'd forgotten and followed you up the stairs. Without a second glance back at him, you left the front door open.

Realizing that this was the only invitation he was going to get, Miguel followed you inside, closing the door soundly behind him. Turning around, you looked up at him and raised a brow.

"What now?" His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you in irritation. Cocking your head slightly you smirked and shrugged.

"Oh, nothing, I'm just wondering if you plan on wearing the shades indoors as well." Your smirk widened, and Miguel felt his eye twitch. "I know how blinding fluorescent light bulbs can get, but I never considered sunglasses. Guess I'm just conventional like that."

He knew you were goading him. He knew that. But that didn't change the fact that it was working. His ire was peaked, and he knew he was on the edge of snapping. Miguel slowly removed the sunglasses and placed them on a small table next to your purse. He turned to look at you, his eyes dark with warning.

Miguel took a step forward, you instinctively took a step back, and lowered your eyes. A large hand cupped your jaw, and you flinched, waiting for the impact.

When none came, you raised your eyes to see Miguel staring at you intensely, but his attention seemed to be focused on your cheek. Gently he brushed a thumb over the swollen area, and you bit back a hiss. Honestly, until just now, you'd almost forgotten the welt Todd had left on your cheek. It seemed; however, that Miguel hadn't failed to notice it.

"Did he do this often?" The concern laced in his tone rattled you. When was the last time you'd been spoken to like that? You couldn't remember. And that thought alone brought a flush of shame to your cheeks. Your jaw clenched, and you forced yourself to meet his eyes. You weren't going to start being weak now. He watched as your eyes shuttered before you shrugged.

"I didn't keep track." A lie. Of course, you recalled every time he'd hit you. And of course, you recalled every time you'd hit him back. Your stomach sank. And this time you'd almost killed him. He deserved it, a part of you rose up to cry, but the lion's share of your heart still didn't believe that.

It wasn't that you were in love with him, honestly you couldn't unequivocally say that you'd ever been in love with, Todd. No, it was simply that there was still a part of you that valued human life too much to truly wish death on any person. No matter how shitty they were.

Miguel watched you clearly warring with your emotions. It was obvious that there was something deeper going on, and he wasn't certain he wanted to get involved. However, he couldn't silence that protective inclination from roaring to life at the sight of that welt. It made his heart burn to see a mark like that on your skin. You might have a smart mouth, but no one deserved to be touched like that, let alone you.

Not when there were such prettier marks you could be wearing. His thumb stilled over the welt, and he stiffened. Where had that come from?

Unfortunately, you chose that moment to look up at him to speak and found your words drying up at his expression. Your breath stalled at the heat burning in his eyes, and you shuddered. His eyes tracked your face, before dipping to observe the subtle dip in the hollow of your throat as your breathing grew shallowed. Slowly his eyes rose to meet yours.

Had someone broken in and turned up the thermostat in your absence? No, that didn't make any sense. But you couldn't find another rational explanation for the increasingly oppressive heat in the room.

Miguel brought his other hand to cup the other side of your jaw and cradled your face gently between his hands. Tilting your head back slowly, he inspected the mark, willing himself to ignore your thundering pulse, or the way you subtly shuffled closer to him.

"You said you hit him with a shovel?" He murmured, leaning in closer under the guise of examination, but his eyes wandered back to yours. Searching his eyes, you found yourself getting lost in the almost burnt sienna hue of his eyes. Your mouth opened a little and you nodded. Miguel's eyes creased at the corners at your dumb expression, and he hummed.

"Knocked him out, cold." You forced out, unable to string any more words together.

"Good." His eyes seemed to shine with approval, and his lips lifted at the corner. You knew you shouldn't thrill at this imposing man's approval of your assault on another person, but you practically preened at the simple praise.

Your eyes shifted to consider the rest of his face. He had good bone structure. Really good bone structure. In a thousand years, you were certain that archaeologists would have a field day with his skeletal remains.

You shook yourself free of that morbid thought and let your eyes trail to his lips. Closing your eyes, you leaned even closer, basking in his masculine scent.

The hints of redwood, his own perspiration, and the lingering traces of bourbon proved to be a heady combination, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from sighing audibly. His nose glided across your cheek, and you groaned. One hand slid to the nape of your neck, and he kissed your jaw.

"Miguel... we can't." You whispered, warring with your body as your head began to swim. He merely grunted and turned his head to rest his forehead against your temple.

"Why not?" His fingers played with a curl at your nape that had escaped your bun. "We are married." He teased softly. Your jaw clenched, and you felt that prick of irritation again.

"Not for long if you get your way." You bit out. Pulling back, he considered you. Eyes narrowing, he released his grip on your neck and stepped back. Sighing heavily, you pinched the bridge of your nose and propped a hand on your hip.

"I don't know about you, but I'm a mess, Miguel. And I'm exhausted." Your shoulders slumped as you said the words, and you looked up at him in exasperation. "Something tells me that neither of us is in a good head space right now."

"You sound like a psychologist." He said dryly. You forced a tired smile and let out a dusty chuckle.

"I could be, but then again," Your eyes took on a teasing light and you shrugged. "Maybe I'm an international art thief, there's a lot you don't know about me, O'Hara."

Your teasing tone wasn't lost on him, but neither was the grain of truth in your words. When he stopped the think about it, reality came railing into his gut. You were a stranger to him. And he was a stranger to you. Clearing your throat, you broke into his thoughts.

"Maybe... we should take a few days to get our bearings, yeah? If you're half as exhausted as I am... we really aren't going to accomplish anything right now."

His shoulders tightened. Miguel wanted to argue that he could indeed accomplish several things in his present condition and was more than ready to very physically prove that point, if given half the chance. However, considering the stubborn set of your jaw, he saw that chance growing slimmer.

"Okay, doc." Turning, he grabbed up his shades and the jacket he'd cast off when he'd entered and turned to look down at you once more.

He fought to keep his face neutral as he considered you once more. You were fighting so desperately between irritation and timidity so stubbornly that it was almost adorable.

"Just one question." You raised your eyes to meet his as he put on the shades again and raised a brow. Leaning closer again, he lowered the shades, and you watched his eyes light with amusement.

"What's that?" You fidgeted and inched back, casting your eyes away from his. Miguel's merely creased at the corners once more as he kept his features and tone neutral.

"How are we going to touch base?" He deadpanned, looking down at you with a raised brow.

"I don't know, call me?"

"I can't exactly do that without your number, can I?" Your eyes flashed at his smug tone. His brow twitched and his eyes danced.

Scowling, you huffed and turned to rifle through your purse in irritation. Miguel folded his arms and watched you with a faint smile. You furiously scribbled your number on a post it note and shoved it into his hand.

"There, asshole." You mumbled the last part under your breath, but with his superior hearing, he'd heard. Pretending he hadn't, Miguel tucked the post it into his pocket and pushed his shades up the bridge of his nose.

"I look forward to our next argument." You said dryly, as he opened the front door. He paused with one foot out the door and glanced back at you.

"It'll probably be a doozy, doc." He closed the door on your exasperated huff, and as he descended your front steps, you didn't bother to call him back to retrieve the wallet that had slipped out of his jacket pocket.

Thanks for reading! BTW, think I'm finally getting the hang of this formatting thing, hope it's working for you guys too! (These two are clearly so down for each other, I'm over here screaming!)

@feyhunter78 @kingtwhiddleston @scorpihoooe @nommingonfood

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dibby-io · 7 months

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(Chapter 2) A Spin on an Enchanted Tale

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, fem!reader, Gabriella O’Hara, Lyla (Lyla’s a human in this AU)

Chapter 2 summary: My Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader AU inspired by Disney’s Enchanted (2007). After taking Miguel O’Hara (a 31-year-old single dad who doesn’t believe in fairytales) up on his offer to stay in his home, reader (a princess cosplayer in their late 20s) wakes up to a somewhat-new life with Miguel and his adorable five-year-old daughter Gabriella

Warning: None, an all-fluff story, enjoy~

Spanish used (I used SpanishDict): Papá (Dad); Buenos días, Papá (Good morning, Dad); Gracias, Papá (Thank you, Dad); Porque eres, mi solecita (Because you are, my lovely sunshine); Mierda (shit)

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 {below} | Ch 3 {in progress}

The buttery rays of morning autumn sunlight slipped through the curtains and danced onto your form, gently waking you up. You cracked an eye open and turned over to grab your phone from the nightstand.

It’s…only six a.m?!

You put down your phone and let out a groan, fighting the urge to go back to bed and pull the covers over your head.

It was one of those rare days where your body would wake up too early on its own, and it was probably because you subconsciously remembered that you were staying in someone else’s home.

You made your way to the window, parting the curtains and lifting up the window.

The chilly Monday air greeted your skin, but you didn’t mind it. The faint beeps from taxis and chatter from people throughout Nueva York below filled your ears. Even though you should be used to the entire city being awake 24/7 by now, the hustle and bustle of Nueva York never ceased to amaze you.

What do I do now?

You couldn’t just go downstairs and make yourself breakfast; it felt wrong to use Miguel’s kitchen as a guest. You weren’t even sure if Miguel wanted you to eat breakfast with him and Gabriella.

He seemed pretty skeptical of you last night, which was understandable, so it was probably best to try to stay out of his hair as much as possible. Especially since you were now staying in his home for free.

Breakfast can wait; I can buy something in that cafe across the street later. You had $200 in your bank account—not enough to rent an apartment, but enough to buy yourself meals for the next week or two.

And with that, you nodded to yourself and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

In the bathroom, you couldn’t help but jump a bit when you saw your reflection in the mirror. You almost forgot you were wearing Miguel’s comfy t-shirt and sweatpants. I need to change out of these.

After brushing your teeth and taking a shower (and re-wearing Miguel’s shirt and sweatpants since you had no clean clothes to change into), you made your way to the folded pile of clothes Miguel gave you last night that you put on the study desk by the window.

T-shirts, dress shirts, sweatpants…None of these, as nice as the materials of Miguel’s clothes were, were suitable for you to wear as day outfits.

Your fingers then paused on a sky blue cotton dress shirt. You took it out of the pile and held it up to your body, the end of the shirt reaching way past your knees.

A lightbulb went off in your head. I can make a dress out of this!

You set the dress shirt down on the desk and went over to your suitcase, taking out your bag of sewing supplies and beloved sewing machine.

“Chip,” you practically sobbed, hugging your ivory sewing machine with the sewing supply bag on top as you lugged both to the desk. “At least I have you with me.”

“Chip,” which you affectionately called your sewing machine, came from the sewing machine’s brand “Chip Sewing Brand Inc,” though you liked to think “Chip” stood for:

Costume Making

Hemming

and Everything In Between

for Princess Cosplayers

After setting Chip down on the desk, you sat down on a sleek black swivel chair in front of the desk. You smoothed the cotton fabric of the shirt across the desk before taking out pink fabric scissors from your bag.

An upbeat, incoherent tune escaped from your lips in a hum as you spent the next few hours cutting, pinning, seam ripping, folding, sewing, and hemming.

With how big Miguel’s dress shirt was on you, you were able to cut some extra scraps from the shirt. There was one part of the shirt that you especially wanted to save for later: the left breast pocket that had a crimson spider logo embroidered on it. The pocket gave you the idea to incorporate it as one of two lower side pockets on your dress.

As you turned to the left to set aside the shirt scraps, the corner of your eye caught a movement by the window. A pigeon fluttered its gray and periwinkle wings, landing on your windowsill.

“Hello, there,” you smiled at the pigeon, who cooed at you in response. “You’re welcome to stay and watch me sew if you’d like.”

You could call yourself crazy for talking to a pigeon who couldn’t understand you, but your smile only grew when the pigeon stayed on the windowsill and looked at you as if to wait for you to continue sewing.

Your hums, the pigeon’s coos, and soft whirs from your sewing machine soon filled up the room. You spent about the next half hour sewing on shoulder straps and using the other scraps from the shirt to make and sew two pockets on either side of the dress just below your stomach area.

“And…done!” You turned off your sewing machine and took the dress off the table. Before you could get up to go change out of Miguel’s pajamas and into your new dress, you noticed a flock of fluttering movements on the windowsill.

There were not one, but five pigeons on the windowsill now, all cooing in unison.

“I see you’ve brought your friends,” You cocked your head to the side at the first pigeon, or at least you thought it was the first pigeon that came to your windowsill. You weren’t really sure; they all looked the same. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go try on my new dress.”

You rushed into the bathroom and slipped out of Miguel’s pajamas, folding them neatly and setting them aside on the marbled vanity before slipping into the dress.

A smile bursted on your face once you saw your reflection. The dress-shirt-turned-dress boasted a sweetheart neckline and shoulder straps that you tied into bows on your shoulders. The pockets (with one pocket having the former shirt’s crimson spider logo embroidery) also added a cute touch to the dress.

For a dress that was made in two-ish hours, it hugged all the right places while still being comfortable and easy for you to move in.

“All in a morning’s work,” you grinned at yourself in the mirror, turning around to see the dress at different angles.

Oh! Speaking of mornings… You adjusted a bow strap on your shoulder before darting out of the bathroom to pick up your phone on the desk.

…I need to text Nancy.

Nancy, the owner of the princess party cosplay business you worked for, was the type of boss who was kind and understanding but also no-nonsense when it came to business.

After you typed and sent a message to Nancy about losing your apartment and asking for extra princess party cosplay job opportunities, you placed your phone into one of your pockets.

You then turned around, noticing the five pigeons that continued to rest on the windowsill.

“You’re all still here? I suppose you all liked that song I hummed earlier, huh?”

The pigeons answered you with a collective coo that sounded like a “yes” from them, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“All right, I’ll sing it again.”

You began to sing the song from earlier, trying your best to keep your voice soft in an effort to not wake Gabriella and Miguel in case the walls were thin.

The song you sang was a princess song with lyrics about being happy while doing whatever task you were doing, and it was always your go-to song every time you worked on a new sewing project.

The pigeons joined in on your singing with their cooing, and you began twirling around in your new dress while the pigeons bobbed their heads.

You became so immersed in singing with the pigeons that you didn’t hear the doorknob of your room turn. The door opened just enough for a certain five-year-old to peek her head into the room.

“Good morning, Princess Y/N!” Gabriella flung the door wide open, running over to you and encasing your legs in a big hug.

You halted your singing and bent down to greet Gabriella. “Good morning, little one!” you returned her hug, noting how adorable she looked in her light blue unicorn-print nightgown and pink bunny slippers. “Did you just wake up?”

“Mhm, I wanted to see if you were actually here! And I’m glad that you are!”

It was impossible for you to not smile more at Gabi’s words. Despite all the uncertainties and events since yesterday, you found yourself truthfully replying, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

You straightened up with Gabriella, and she tugged on one of your hands. “Princess Y/N, can you help me brush my teeth? Papá isn’t awake.”

You took out your phone from your pocket and checked the screen, which read 8:10 a.m. You didn’t know when Miguel usually woke up, but from what Gabi just told you, it sounded like he usually woke up earlier.

“Are you going to school today, little one?” You let Gabi lead you out of your room and into the hall to the main bathroom.

“Yeah!” Gabi hopped onto a little stool in front of the sink area, and you flipped the light switch of the bathroom on. “I’m gonna tell my friends that I’m friends with a really pretty princess!”

“Aw, I’m flattered,” you gushed, putting a hand to your heart. “Now, can you show me where your toothbrush and toothpaste are?”

Gabi nodded, pointing to a gold toothbrush holder by the sink. You noticed two toothbrushes: one sparkly rainbow toothbrush for kids, and a larger blue-and-red toothbrush with a Spider-Man logo.

“That’s mine,” Gabi pointed to the sparkly rainbow toothbrush. “And the Spider-Man toothbrush is Papá’s.”

You couldn’t help but quirk an amused grin at learning that Miguel had a Spider-Man toothbrush, of all things. He pegged you as the type to have those boring gray toothbrushes.

“Ok, I’m going to show you how to put toothpaste on your toothbrush,” you took Gabi’s toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste from the toothbrush holder. You opened the cap of the toothpaste tube and then held Gabi’s toothbrush and the toothpaste tube in front of you. “Watch carefully.”

Gabi nodded vigorously. You squeezed a centimeter of toothpaste onto Gabi’s toothbrush, leaving some empty space on the toothbrush for Gabi.

“Ooh, I wanna do it now!” Gabi held her hands out to you as if you showed her how to make a unicorn out of clouds or something.

You handed her the toothbrush and the toothpaste tube, and made your way behind her to support her small arms with your hands. “You don’t want to squeeze the toothpaste out too hard, or a ton will come out and we don’t want that.”

Gabi nodded, adorably poking her tongue out as she concentrated on squeezing the toothpaste onto her toothbrush. The toothpaste made a little toot! sound as it came out from the tube, making the both of you giggle. “Look, I did it!” Gabi held up the toothbrush to you.

“Great job, little one,” you returned her smile. “Now I’ll help you brush your teeth.”

You made your way to stand next to Gabi, and you looked into the oval mirror in front of the two of you. “You want to brush your teeth like this,” you mimicked small circle motions with your hand in front of your mouth.

Gabi copied you, brushing her teeth. “That’s it,” you nodded, and Gabi beamed up at you with a mouth now full of minty toothpaste.

After helping Gabi to finish brushing her teeth, you tidied up the sink and Gabi hopped off of the stool. Just as the two of you were about to exit the bathroom, footsteps approached the door and the door opened to reveal Miguel.

The Miguel before you was a Miguel who looked completely different from the put-together man you met last night.

This Miguel wore a plush navy robe over a white t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants. His chestnut waves clung to his forehead and stuck out in all directions, and his feet were adorned with giant pink bunny slippers that matched Gabriella’s.

“¡Buenos días, Papá!” Gabi ran over to Miguel, hugging his legs. “Princess Y/N helped me brush my teeth!”

Miguel blinked as if he was just waking up, before addressing you with barely a glance. “Thanks, but I got it from here.”

“Of course,” you awkwardly shuffled out of the bathroom, feeling like you overstepped a boundary by helping Gabi brush her teeth. Miguel didn’t even cast another glance your way as you made your way to your room.

He’s probably just being protective of Gabi. You nodded to yourself as you went into your room and perched at the edge of your bed. We’re all still strangers to each other, after all.

You gave a half-smile to the five pigeons who still lounged on your windowsill before taking your phone out from your pocket to scroll through job sites for any extra jobs you could apply to.

You kind of lost track of time as you searched and bookmarked job opportunities, because about fifteen minutes later, Gabi stumbled into your room once more.

The child was now dressed in a white uniform polo t-shirt, a knee-length khaki skirt, and rainbow unicorn socks. Miguel followed behind her, still in his robe and with his messy hair. In his hands were a hairbrush and a sparkly hot pink hair tie.

Instead of going to you, Gabi ran over to your windowsill. You were surprised that the pigeons weren’t alarmed and simply stayed on the windowsill as Gabi marveled at them.

“Gabi insisted that she wanted me to do her hair here,” Miguel explained. His hickory orbs landed on you for the first time this morning, but instead of his eyes landing on your face, they landed on your outfit. “Wait, is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I woke up early and didn’t have any clean clothes so I decided to make a dress out of one of the shirts you gave me. I hope that’s ok.” You shyly stuck your hands in your dress pockets, feeling self-conscious.

“Uh…yeah. That’s ok. Remind me to teach you how to use our laundry room later,” Miguel averted his eyes from yours rather quickly. His eyes then landed on the five pigeons still resting on the windowsill. “Pigeons?”

Miguel strode over to the windowsill, waving his hand to shoo away the pigeons (who flew off into Nueva York with annoyed coos) before shutting your window.

“Aw, Papá,” Gabriella whined, turning around to look up at Miguel. “The pigeons wanted to stay! You should’ve seen them sing with Princess Y/N.”

“Sing?” Miguel’s thick eyebrows lifted, before furrowing in doubt as he turned to look at you.

You simply stared back, confused on why he seemed confused. Surely singing pigeons weren't the most odd things Miguel had encountered in Nueva York.

Instead of saying something about how singing pigeons didn’t exist, Miguel cleared his throat and turned back to a disappointed Gabi. “Uh, well, maybe they’ll come back later.”

A smile formed on your lips at Miguel’s attempt to make his daughter feel better. Miguel then surprised you once more by repositioning himself to sit criss-cross on the floor.

“Princess Y/N, sit with us!” Gabi hopped into Miguel’s lap and patted the empty floor space next to Miguel.

“Alright,” you chuckled, though you hesitantly made your way off the bed and to Miguel and Gabi. You crouched down, sitting and leaving a pretty good chunk of space between you and Miguel. However, Gabi took your hand and pulled you closer to her and Miguel.

He didn’t say a word, his hands full with the hairbrush and Gabi’s hair. The sparkly pink hair tie rested loosely between his lips. As if it came second nature to him, Miguel gently and expertly brushed Gabi’s thick brunette hair and gathered it into a neat ponytail.

“There you go,” Miguel planted a kiss on top of Gabi’s head after securing her ponytail with the hair tie.

“¡Gracias, Papá!” Gabi tilted her head up to kiss Miguel’s jaw, and you wanted to melt then and there at how cute the father and daughter duo were. Gabi hopped off of Miguel’s lap and made her way over to you. “Princess Y/N, how do I look?”

“Like the prettiest princess in all the lands, little one,” you gave Gabi a wink as you stood up, not caring if your princess compliment would elicit an annoyed huff from Miguel or something.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to see Miguel stand up with a soft smile on his face as Gabi beamed even more at receiving your compliment.

“Did you hear that, Papá? Princess Y/N called me the ‘prettiest princess in all the lands’!” Gabi threw her hands back in the air as if you just made her day.

“Porque eres, mi solecita,” Miguel stated as if it was an undeniable truth. “Wait here with Princess Y/N, I’ll go get ready and then I’ll make us all breakfast.”

You let out a surprised “pfft” at Miguel calling you “Princess Y/N” as he made his way out of your room and into the bathroom in the hall. Before you could turn to Gabi, a voice made you almost jump.

“Miggy, Gabi, I’m here!” A woman’s voice, which sounded nothing but fun and playful, rang from downstairs.

“She’s here!” Gabi crowed, taking your hand and leading you out of your room once more.

“Who’s here?” You didn’t even have time to blink as you let Gabi lead you to the top of the staircase. The child let go of your hand, running down the staircase and into the arms of the mysterious woman who stood in front of the elevator that led into the penthouse.

As you descended the staircase, you got a better view of the woman. She looked around Miguel’s age yet had a fun sense of style. Her chestnut bob, transparent pink heart sunglasses, tan boots, and cream mink coat worn over a white blouse and khaki slacks all complemented each other. In her hands was a paper bag with small grease stains at the bottom.

From the way Gabi enveloped the woman in a big hug, and the way the woman called Miguel “Miggy,” you couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was Gabi’s mom, and/or Miguel’s partner, or…

“Auntie Lyla!” Gabi calling the woman “Auntie Lyla” broke you out of your thoughts.

“How’s my favorite O’Hara doing?” The woman, Lyla, gave Gabriella a huge squeeze.

“Great! Papá and I took a princess home with us!” Gabriella beamed up at Lyla.

“Oh?” Lyla winked at Gabi as if Gabi just told her that Gabi got a new princess toy or something. Lyla then caught sight of you a few feet away at the foot of the staircase. Her eyebrows flew up in genuine shock. “Oh!”

“Hi,” you tentatively made your way towards the two, extending a hand to Lyla. “I’m Y/N, a princess party cosplayer, and I’m staying with Miguel and Gabriella for the time being.”

You were nothing but surprised when Lyla gave you a strong handshake but had the kindest smile on her face. “Nice to meet you! I’m Lyla, a long-time friend of Miggy’s, but I like to call myself the cooler younger sister he never had.”

Lyla seemed fun and sassy and you liked her already. Lyla seemed to like you already, too, from the way her smile turned into a wide and mischievous grin. “So Miggy finally found somebody, huh?”

Your eyes practically widened out of your sockets. “Oh! No, no, no, it’s not like that,” you waved your hands, shaking your head profusely. “I just met Miguel and Gabriella last night, and Miguel was kind enough to let me stay here.”

“Ohhhh,” Lyla blinked, cocking her head to the side in confusion. “How did you all meet?”

“So kind of a long story, but I got kicked out of my apartment for being behind on rent after coming back from working at a children’s party in princess cosplay,” you let out in a rush, barely believing that all that happened to you in less than twenty-four hours. “I was sitting on a bench and suddenly this little one came up to me.”

“Yeah! I found Princess Y/N!” Gabriella rested her hands on her hips proudly.

“I’m sorry about you getting kicked out, that sucks,” Lyla expressed her sympathy to you before her curiosity took over once more. “Wait, how did Gabi find you?”

“Well from what I learned yesterday, she ran off from Miguel when they were getting ice cream,” you answered, absentmindedly pulling one of the slipping bow straps back onto your shoulder.

“You did?!” Lyla’s eyes widened in shock, turning to Gabi before holding out her palm for a high-five. “Nice!”

You laughed as Gabriella—who didn’t really understand—high-fived Lyla anyways. Before you could talk with Lyla more, the sound of footsteps making their way down the staircase filled the living room.

The three of you looked up to see Miguel, who looked more put-together now than he did a few minutes ago. His chestnut waves were gelled back, making his thick eyebrows and sharp jawline look more prominent. He was dressed in a form-fitting white dress shirt tucked into gray slacks.

“Don’t encourage my daughter, Lyla,” Miguel frowned, though his attention was on the navy tie he was fastening around his neck as he reached the foot of the staircase. “And what are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too, Miggy,” Lyla propped one hand on her hip. “Did you forget I was taking Gabi to school today?”

“Huh? Since when?” Miguel mumbled, his frown deepening in confusion as his eyes snapped up from his tie to look at his friend.

“Since you told me last week that you would need to go to work a bit earlier today for an important meeting,” Lyla replied in a “duh” tone. “So you asked me to take Gabi to school today.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw went slack. His eyes then flew down to his watch. “8:45 a.m., mierda,” a curse word slipped from Miguel’s lips, and Lyla instantly used her hands to cover up Gabi’s ears.

“Breakfast,” Miguel mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to make breakfast.”

“I got you covered on that,” Lyla held up the paper bag in her hands. “I bought breakfast bagel sandwiches! They were selling four for $4 so I got four. Thought four would be too much but now it seems perfect.”

Lyla winked at you, and you shot her a grateful smile. Lyla seemed like she’d be a good friend, and you hoped that you would get to know her more.

“Perfect, thank you,” Miguel walked into a little study room near the kitchen to get his things.

“Auntie Lyla, can you please help me tie my shoes?” Gabi took her lavender light-up sneakers from the shoe rack and sat down on the floor.

“Of course,” Lyla sat down on the floor across from Gabriella to tie her shoes.

You sat down next to them, watching as Lyla tied the shoelaces on Gabi’s shoes. “Can I ask you something, Lyla?” you rested your face in your palm.

“Yeah, shoot,” Lyla finished tying up Gabi’s shoes and stood up, making you and Gabi stand up as well.

“How long have you known Miguel and Gabriella?” Your question was one of genuine curiosity.

“I used to work as Miggy’s assistant for years until I started my own fashion magazine company, though I’ve been helping him out here and there with Gabi ever since she was born,” Lyla gave Gabi a loving side hug. “Wait, you’re into fashion, right?”

Before you could answer “yes,” Miguel came back to the three of you with a brown leather satchel crossed over his torso and Gabi’s pink princess school backpack dangling on one of his arms.

Lyla took that as a cue to hand two breakfast bagel sandwiches to you, one for you and one for Miguel.

“We’ll eat these on our way to your school, ok?” Lyla winked down at Gabi, who nodded up at her aunt.

“Walking while eating can be dangerous,” Miguel grumbled at Lyla as he bent down in front of Gabriella, helping her put on her backpack.

“She’ll be fine, Miggy,” Lyla waved her hand dismissively.

“Remember to—,” Miguel began.

“—cross the streets safely, look both ways, I know, I know,” Lyla rolled her hazel eyes at Miguel. “You know I’d never let anything bad happen to Gabi.”

You knew Miguel was overprotective of Gabi, but now you were seeing more instances of how much overprotective he could be of his only child. It made sense a bit to you, since it seemed like Gabi was Miguel’s only constant family member.

Miguel let out a huff before planting a soft kiss on Gabi’s forehead. “Have a good day at school, ok? After I pick you up and we eat dinner, I’ll take you out for ice cream like I promised.”

“Yay, ice cream!” Gabi’s warm brown orbs glittered at the mention of ice cream. She lunged forward, hugging Miguel’s neck. “Bye, Papá!”

After a few seconds of hugging her father, Gabi let him go and ran over to you.

“Bye, Princess Y/N!” Gabi threw her arms around you as you bent down at eye level for her. “I wanna get ice cream with you and Papá after dinner!”

“Have a fun day at school, little one,” you gently booped Gabi’s nose with your free hand while your other hand held the two sandwiches. Your action made Gabi giggle as if she was sprinkled with fairy dust.

You were too occupied with saying “bye” to Gabi to hear Miguel and Lyla chat with each other, until you glanced up and saw Miguel shooing Lyla into the elevator with a mildly-annoyed expression on his face while she had a mischievous smirk on hers.

“C’mon Gabi, let’s go,” Lyla called to Gabi as she stepped into the elevator, ignoring Miguel. “Your dad’s being grumpy since he hasn’t eaten breakfast yet.”

“Bye Papá, bye Princess Y/N!” Gabriella waved to you and Miguel and ran into the elevator to join Lyla. “Make sure to eat breakfast, Papá! It’s the most important meal of the day!”

You made your way to stand next to Miguel, the both of you waving to Gabi and Lyla before the elevator doors closed.

“I usually tell her that,” Miguel hummed, his eyes soft. “And somehow it’s now the other way around.”

“She’s a good kid,” your own gaze was soft as you and Miguel continued to look at the closed elevator doors.

“She is,” Miguel replied with all the love and pride for his daughter.

You then turned your head to Miguel. “So, uh, do you want me to stay here until you and Gabi get home? Or if you want me to get out of here while you’re at work, I can just walk around the city and look for another job or something.”

“You won’t be able to get into this building again if you go out, come back, and I’m not there,” Miguel made his way over to the shoe rack and bent down on one knee to put on his black dress shoes and tie the shoestrings.

“Ah, right,” you stayed put. “So should I just stay here then?”

You weren’t sure what you could do in Miguel’s home by yourself other than eat the bagel sandwich Lyla gave you, wait for Nancy to text you back, and look up more jobs on your phone.

Plus, you couldn’t even wash your clothes until Miguel taught you how to use his laundry room.

“You can come with me to work,” Miguel looked over his shoulder to you while securing his shoestrings before straightening up. “I’ll get my assistant Ben to help you find a job somewhere.”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Despite your shock and confusion, you went over to the shoe rack to slip on your sneakers. You also felt curious about finding out about Miguel’s job from the way he mentioned he had an assistant.

Miguel nodded, pressing the button next to the elevator. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped in.

You scurried into the elevator, the two breakfast bagel sandwiches in your hands. “Here,” you handed one to Miguel. To your surprise, he took it but placed the wrapped-up sandwich in his satchel.

“I’ll eat it after my meeting,” Miguel brought his left wrist up to look at his watch again.

You peeked at his silver watch, which you noticed was a state-of-the-art smart watch with a gold-and-orange screen. On the screen read the time: 8:51 a.m.

“You sure?” You blurted, concerned for Miguel but also not wanting the lengthy ninety-nine-floors-down elevator flight to ensue in painfully-awkward silence.

Miguel’s eyes flitted to you, and before he could open his mouth, a rather angry rumble erupted from his stomach.

The two of you averted your eyes from each other, Miguel doing so to pretend his stomach didn’t make such a noise and you doing so to save him any embarrassment.

However, you found yourself speaking up once more.

“Miguel, I don’t want to overstep, but like Gabi said, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” you gave him a tiny smile. “Plus, we have some time. There’s still like…eighty floors left.”

He looked at his watch again, and you peeked over to see that it was now 8:55 a.m. Miguel let out a sigh of frustration, but he dug his hand into his satchel and took out the breakfast bagel sandwich.

“I should’ve chosen a shorter building to live in,” he grumbled, before unwrapping the sandwich and biting into it.

“Maybe,” you chuckled, before unwrapping your own sandwich. Miguel let out a huff, but his lips quirked into the beginnings of a smile.

50…30…The elevator ride down to the lobby was still long, and while you and Miguel both ate your respective breakfast bagel sandwiches in silence, it was a comfortable silence.

MIguel finished his sandwich by the time the elevator descended to the 20th floor, and you were just about done with your sandwich as well. You then turned to Miguel in an effort to start some more conversation. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Miguel raised a brow at you.

“Did you…sleep well last night, Miguel?” You noticed that the eye bags he had under his eyes last night were completely gone, and his entire face seemed a bit more relaxed now.

“Huh? Oh,” Miguel blinked as if he didn’t expect you to ask him that. “…Yeah, I did. Did you?”

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise; you weren’t expecting Miguel to ask you that, or ask you anything, really. “I did, too. I ended up waking a bit early but it wasn’t because of the bed or the room or anything. Everything in the room is just wonderful.”

In an effort to voice your appreciation to Miguel for him letting you stay in his home, you didn’t realize you sounded optimistic and dreamy like a princess.

“Wonderful,” Miguel murmured. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you cocked your head to the side, not even aware that your action made you look more princess-like.

“Do you always sound like a princess or is it just to keep an act for Gabi?” Miguel rested his palms on his hips.

“Do you always sound like a pessimistic man who wears pink bunny slippers and owns a Spider-Man toothbrush?” You shot back without thinking, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Look, I’m just saying that I appreciate it when you do it for Gabi, but you don’t have to keep up that act around me when Gabi’s not here,” Miguel crossed his arms in front of his chest, mirroring your stance. “And for the record, Spider-Man toothbrushes are cool.”

“It’s not an act, it’s called optimism.” Instead of mirroring his furrowed eyebrows and mouth set in a straight line, you raised your eyebrows a bit and shot Miguel a smirk. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Miguel opened his mouth as if to make a comeback, but the elevator interrupted him with a Ding!

You waited, expecting for Miguel to step through the elevator first so that he could rush to work while you followed him. Instead, he stepped forward to the side.

“After you,” Miguel reached an arm out between the opening of the elevator to keep it open for you. His gentlemanly gesture shocked you, especially since he basically accused you of being fake five seconds ago.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you decided to give him a quick and comical curtsy in an attempt to get back at him before you stepped through the elevator.

You made your way to the glass exit doors. Miguel strode up to you as you tossed your sandwich wrapper in a trash can near the door and he followed suit. He then placed a hand on the handle of the exit doors, but before he could push through them, he looked at you.

“Are you ok with speed-walking?” Miguel asked you.

You arched an eyebrow. “Sure, I’m wearing my sneakers. Are we going to speed-walk to the subway?”

“No, we’re going to walk to my workplace since the building I work at is just a couple of streets down,” Miguel replied before opening the door for you. “We don’t have time for curtsies.”

“I wasn’t going to curtsy this time,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest once more as you made your way outside.

Before you could look back at Miguel and blink, he strode past you. Thankfully, before you could register what happened, your feet followed after him.

So much for being a gentleman!

You speed-walked into the street that led out of Miguel’s apartment complex and the others surrounding his. Miguel was a few feet further ahead, and you were thankful he was as tall as he was so that you could see him and follow him.

As you sped past pedestrians and street vendors, you barely heard them shout at you to get out of the way or to check out their merchandise.

“A sunflower for the beautiful lady!” An elderly male florist selling bouquets in the open street held out a single sunflower to you.

“Oh! Thank you, but I can’t accept that for free,” you stopped in your tracks.

“Nonsense, these are going to wilt soon,” the elderly florist gave you a kind smile. “I’d rather give them away than have to throw them away.”

The sunflower, warm as sunshine with its golden petals, as well as the florist’s kindness, made you feel hopeful to find a way to continue living in Nueva York. As you took the flower from the florist and opened your mouth to say “thank you,” your eyes caught sight of Miguel walking back to you.

“What are you doing?” Miguel narrowed his eyes down at the flower in your hands as if it was laced with poison.

“The kind florist gave it to me,” you held the flower close to you indignantly.

The florist held out another sunflower to Miguel. “And one for the beautiful lady’s beau.”

Your and Miguel’s heads snapped to each other and then to the florist at the same time.

“Miguel’s not my—,” you began.

“They’re not my—,” Miguel blurted at the same time, before shaking his head. “Let’s just go.”

“Thank you for the flowers!” You gratefully took the sunflower that the florist offered Miguel before walking up to Miguel’s side.

Miguel glanced at the two sunflowers in your hands before fixing his gaze straight ahead. “You know you can’t accept things for free, right? Especially in Nueva York.”

“I know that,” you let out a sigh of exasperation at Miguel. “It’s just that the florist told me they’d rather give these flowers away than throw them away because they’re wilting soon. I think it would be a shame to see such pretty flowers go to waste, too.”

Miguel looked at the sunflowers again. “Gabi’s favorite flowers are sunflowers,” Miguel’s voice, which previously had an edge of stress, grew soft once he mentioned his daughter.

“I can give her one when she gets home,” you hummed, smiling even more at the thought of giving Gabi a sunflower. You put the two sunflowers gently into one of your dress pockets for safekeeping.

Miguel’s face softened a bit, and he pointed down the street. “We’re almost there.”

You weren’t great at memorizing the many streets, districts, and boroughs of Nueva York, so you wondered how it was possible Miguel’s workplace was only a few streets down from his apartment complex.

All you knew was that the area surrounding Miguel’s apartment complex had one side that led down several streets to an area with restaurants and shops, near where Miguel and Gabi met you last night.

And the other side, where you and him were headed, you weren’t too sure. But as you were greeted with corporate skyscrapers, you were beginning to have an idea.

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the front of a silver skyscraper with sky blue glass panels. The building, with its state-of-the-art pointed architecture, was so tall and imposing that it reminded you of Miguel in a way.

The building was also so famous even you knew what it was. You whipped your head to Miguel as the two of you walked up to the front doors. “You work at Spider-Society HQ?”

Spider-Society HQ, based in Nueva York, had risen to fame in recent years as an innovative company focused in the scientific fields of genetics and physics.

You didn’t know anything about the company other than that, and now seeing the discreet crimson spider logo on the doors, you realized it was the same one on your dress pocket from Miguel’s shirt.

How did I miss it? You looked down to your dress pocket that had the building’s logo on it. To be fair, science companies and their logos were never at the forefront of your mind.

Miguel scanned the screen of his watch on the key panel. The green light on the key panel indicated its recognition of Miguel, and soon the building’s front doors slid apart with a gentle hiss!

He straightened his tie before stepping into the building with you. You quickly noticed that Miguel exuded an air of professionalism and even regality—like a king ready to take on the weight of his kingdom.

“Technically, I’m the Chief Executive Officer of Spider-Society HQ.”

🍓 Strawbetty’s notes: If you read all the way to here, I give you a 🎃 cuz it’s Halloween season lol. Also thank you to @animusicnerd for proofreading this chapter throughout the two months I’ve been writing it 🫶

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