#vampire!miguel O’Hara x reader

[sagepinkheart]

Victorian!Reader x Vampire!Miguel O’Hara

YALL DONT UNDERSTAND HOW LONG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SCENARIO IM LITERALLY BLUSHING AND KICKING MY FEET

Warnings/CW: Bl00d, biting, violence, reader gets chased

Crack.

She is now wide awake. This is the third time that she’s heard aggressive rustling from the thorny white roses that lie on her balcony. She doesn’t want to, but she knows that she should investigate. After all, it’s still her palace, even if it is ran by her aristocrat father.

She swings her feet to the side of her bed, her nightgown(https://pin.it/8mKPiAN) draping over as she is slipping into her flats that lie beneath her bed frame. The slapping of the souls of said flats echo through the dark and empty corridors, the only light being the one shining through the big Palladian stained glass windows.

She enjoys the silence. It’s a great contrast from the bustling noise of everyday life in a palace full of elegant snobs and yes men. She strolls with much grace, a trail of white tulle and lace followed behind closely as she dragged her steps. She reaches the entrance to the garden, the place she feels most at ease, and where she can see where the noise is coming from, or who it’s coming from.

༺♥༻

The grass crunched beneath her feet as she took cautious steps through the garden, leaving the glass greenhouse and entering a large field of roses that sprawled for miles. The cool wind blew her gown that dragged along her feet, a chill running up her spine as the night ran cold and moon shined bright.

Crack.

She was grasped out of her trance when she heard the same rustling sound. She approaches the area in which the sound had come from, the hope of a stray cat being her only drive to investigate. As she got closer and closer to an emptier part of the rose field, she saw what looked to be a tall dark figure.

A man maybe? Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the night, and she was right. A man stood there maliciously, his back facing her. He sported a white shirt which needed to be laced at the neckline with ruffles at the hems and pants a shade of burnt sienna(https://pin.it/6VibqO7). There was a red stain on his shirt, which surprisingly made her feel less threatened. He could just be a drunk from the gala whom overstayed his welcome.

His pointy left ear twitched as she approached him, her intentions to escort him out and get her chauffeur to take him back to his estate. He turned his head to face her, looking over his shoulder. Those eyes, those dastardly crimson eyes. They glowed, like the roses that lie dead around him. She could stare at them forever. She was intrigued, yet, terrified. Her eyes trailed down to what he was standing over.

A corpse that seemed to be one of her nightly watch guards lie dead in front of him.

Her fight-or-flight senses took over as she slowly took a step back. Step after step, her arms folded to her chest with her palms out, her body language telling him to ‘stay back’. Walking turned into running. She turned away and ran through the field, in hopes of signaling one of the servants.

As she turned back to see if he was following her, she was met with his face right in front of her. How could he have ran so fast? Before she could comprehend anything, he pinned her to the ground. The roses squashed under them. He pinned her wrists to the sides of her head, straddling her with his muscular thighs.

They stayed like that for a while, panting while looking into each other’s eyes. She notice that his mouth was oozing blood, assuming it wasn’t his.

She wanted to scream, oh so she wanted to scream her lungs out until steam rose from her throat. Shrill an echoing screech that would alert the whole earth that she was going to die. But she couldn’t. The lump in her throat stopped even the smallest of whines from escaping her lips.

He started to lean over her, the tension thick enough to cut with a butcher knife. Then, he stopped. His face sitting right above the soft skin of her neck. She tensed up. Was he going to kill her? Was he showing mercy? She had no clue. She softened a bit after he had stopped and let out a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, he sunk his teeth into her neck. She let out a hallowing shriek, one she didn’t know she could do. How could his teeth go through her skin so easily?

Amidst the excruciating pain, she felt him start to suck. Wait…she’s heard about this before. A creature with pale skin, sharp fangs, and a desire for blood. But it was surely just a myth…right?

He only had one of the three qualities though. His hair a chestnut brown and his skin a fine caramel. But he had eyes a shade of scarlet and teeth sharper than blades, not to mention he stood a whopping 6’9 ft.

He sunk his teeth deeper, cueing another hair-raising scream. His talons dug into your wrists, instantly causing bruising. Blood started to spill from the open wound on your neck, painting the white roses red. He retracted his fangs and sat up, staring into her eyes as he licked the remaining blood off of his upper lip. There was still some blood on his chin, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Actually she felt quite faint. A lot of blood had been drawn and the pure shock alone could send her into a coma any minute.

She felt her eyelids get heavy as blood drew from her face, a white cast bestowed upon her skin. He started to take notice of her drowsy expression. He said one word to her. “Rest.” That was the last thing she heard before she fell unconscious, drifting off into a far away land in her head.

༺♥༻

He watched the girl as she lie numb. Her head shifting to the right as her body relaxed. He hadn’t planned to knock her out, but he couldn’t help himself. Her blood was so delectable, like the blood of a new born, or someone who had never been ill. Goodness, he wanted more. He bit down on his wrist, fighting his aggressive temptations. He stood up, staring down at the body in front of him.

She was beautiful. Breathtaking even. If he were human, he would definitely court her as his own. Oh wait…if he were human. Flashbacks of her terrified face flashed through his mind. How could someone like her love a monster like him? His eyes trailed to the bite mark his fangs left on her warm neck. Oh to get another taste before disappearing into the night. He fought himself again, he didn’t want to kill her to fuel his own hunger.

The screams. He knew someone must’ve heard them. He had to hurry to return her to her chambers. He looked back down at her, admiring her beauty. He suddenly heard motion in the palace. This was his cue to escape, but he was not in favor of leaving her lying outside, for fear of another vampire finding her.

He put his hands under upper back and her knee, like a groom carrying a bride. He walked slowly through the field, each step making the roses around him wither. He saw what looked to be her room, the one he had been briefly watching her from. With one step back, he leaped onto the balcony. Pushing back the curtains, he approached her canopy bed. He carefully placed her down on the silk sheets, crossing her arms over her chest. He towered over her resting body, her breathing playing as music through his ears.

It felt like the first time he saw her, at her father’s gathering, which was just another silly event for him to boast about his political success. He still remembers that night, you stood on the side, sipping Claret and Hock wine. Your gown as ravishing as always.

Unexpectedly, fast footsteps were heard around the door. A guard bursts through it, pointing his index finger at the brunette. “Hey!”, he shouts, motioning to the intruder that stands over the woman. The vampire sprints towards the balcony, hopping onto the railing. He glances back at the sleeping woman, taking a final mental image, before dashing off into the night.

I wrote this during school so like it’s kinda rushed, but if y’all want a part 2 or a flashback to the gathering then I’ll be more than happy to serve.😛

[sp1der-wid0w]

deadass, it’s so funny and scary when these guys get mad

[obxsprincess]

I'll Remember you for my wiser years to come if you jus write vampire!Miguel eating pussy as if blood was never an option broski🙏

oh bless u anon… bless you !!! <33 I think I read the thot wrong hfvbhgcgh m’sorry !!… don’t be afraid to send more vampire!mig tho doll face <3

————— ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

sure other men had eaten you out before !! all messy n sloppy n desperate !! but… miguel eats you out because your are his pretty little meal… n its urgent n greedy n sososo blissful!!!

he doesn’t ever even need to stick his fangs into a sweet little doe, not when ur just that !!! but even fuckin’ sweeter…

n of course he can’t just sit back n watch his sweetheart mewling n whining from the your monthly fucked up pains :(( hand splayed above your pretty tummy n legs wide… shiny pain flickering in ur glossy eyes… n hes fucking craving his pretty girl…

“been fucking waiting for this mi amor… fuckk dioses santos arriba te miran“ (holy gods look at you)

devouring u with his eyes…

legs hoisted over his bulk shoulders n dainty tears brim ur fluttering lashes… your glistening sweet little cunt all wet n swollen n dripping in droplets of blood, smearing your plushy thighs !! n ur pink silky bed !!!

this is sososo new to you !! of course migs is a vampire but this??-

“m-miguel” he lifts ur dainty foot n drags his tongue along your ankle… “I-it’s s’dirty-” but his mouth just feels sososo good !! making ur nervous head all sweetly blurry :((

but miguels starving- you squeak as his glorious fangs nip at your pretty thighs !!! n the sweet mind melting smell of your crimson blood n slippery pussy had him going fucking insane-

“fuckk love- can’t you see what your fucking doing to me? lay back and breath mi alma- never gonna need to hunt ever fucking again-”

n when I say he dives in… he dives in!!!

tan chin n lips n teeth covered in ur delicious blood… tongue diving so deeply inside of u your sobbing n writhing… its absolutely undoubtedly filthy!!!

n miguels in heaven!! your pretty taste n your angel sounds n your blood… nipping at your puffy clit- n feasting on ur swollen fluttering folds… all sloppy n soso bloody n delirious!!!

n your just a sobbing little puddle of bliss :((

n he feasts for glorious glorious hours on end on his perfect innocent little mortal… n when your sleepy n overstimulated n mush cus !!!!!

he just flips his pretty meal over on your tummy !!! suffocating his tongue right back into ur drooling pussy… inhuman muscles glistening as he gets lost in ur essence…

of course of course vampire!miguel is absolutely pussy drunk on your pretty little heat… but what’s the term for being absolutely whipped on ur heady drippy blood??

n his white fangs drip in ur crimson droplets… <3

————— ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

[chixkencxrry]

mi sol

Summary: You get a new job as a caretaker at a mysterious estate two towns over. The salary is good enough for you to ignore certain things -- at first. Soon enough you have no choice but to get away. Too bad you're in for life. (one-shot, plot with porn) Vampire! Yandere! Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Reader

Warnings: eventual SMUT, masturbation, p in v, pussy eating, somewhat YANDERE! MIGUEL, YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS ON YOU! NOT PROOFED

fanart by @yeagersatorubar (twt)

The email had come in the middle of the night.

It was from an unrecognizable source. An acceptance to something, some job you didn’t remember applying for. A caretaker job two towns over. You rubbed your eyes in the blue light glare of your rickety laptop, lips pursued as you read.

“When did I apply for this?”

Attached to the close of the email was a number and name. A woman named Lyla was the contact. The name of the property was Stone. You dialled the number. If the person was sending the email this late, you didn’t worry about your call waking them up. 

“Hello. You must be our new caretaker.”

You cleared your throat – taken aback. “I, uh, yes. I am. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling this late.”

The woman chuckled. “That’s fine! You’ll learn that we keep odd hours here.”

“Right,” did you really need the money that much? You eyed your room. It was pink, with posters half hanging. It had been your childhood room and you still occupied it. It made your mouth itch. You needed to leave. “When do you want me to start?”

Though as your taxi pulled up to the estate, you found yourself regretting it. Maybe regret was too strong a word. You found yourself reconsidering it. Had you done something terribly stupid by coming here? By packing your things and telling your parents they could fuck off?

It had taken four hours to get here, the sun had set and it was twilight now. Would it be too early to run back with your tail between your legs? Were you so weak that you had to give up? 

“That’ll be 50$.” the driver grunted, growing impatient with your slow movement.

You baulked and shoved the bill into his hand. Out of spite, you took your time to get your bags out – making sure you didn’t miss one. You could have sworn you heard him curse as he drove off. Rolling your eyes, you slid your phone out to get to your emails – Lyla had sent you the code to get in. Turning your flashlight on the keypad, you punched the code in and continued your trek up the property. It was a long walk that left you huffing. 

Once you met the great doors, you knocked the lion-faced knockers loudly a few times and waited. When you went to try for a second time, it pierced your skin, making you hiss. Your finger slipped into your mouth and you sucked. 

The door swung open to reveal a fashionable dress auburn-haired woman with heart-shaped sunglasses. She grinned at you. All sharp, white teeth. “Hello! Aren't you an earlier riser?”

You bristled. “Pardon?”

“Are these your bags?” She turned her head inside the mansion and whistled. “I’ll get Ben to bring them in.”

Lyla was the assistant of the owner of the house. A real recluse, she claimed. You didn’t mind. They had paid you a freaking signing bonus when you agreed. Who gave signing bonuses to caretakers? Dumb rich people. This guy could be a troll for all you cared. As long as each salary came with the flourish of that, you could never meet the man. 

“It's more of a managerial position really.” Lyla clarified after showing you the lion’s share of the house. “Ben takes care of the heavy lifting. Or Peter – he doesn’t show up much though, new father and all that.”

“We have cameras in the common areas. Bedrooms and baths are off limits of course. You’ll get access to them.”

“So, Mr. Stone just wants me to look after the place? Make sure it's clean and in order?”

Lyla stilled, causing you to bump into her. Her pale face twitched. “Mr. O’Hara. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Sorry. It’s just the name of the estate –”

Lyla shook her head. “Don’t make that mistake again.”

“My bad.”

The tour continued on silently. Lyla stopped at the West Wing, where a portrait of a young family hung. They were dressed in regalia from at least three centuries ago. It was of two beautiful boys, a stately-looking woman and a cold-faced man. You shivered. You hoped the man was not Mr O’Hara.

“Don’t worry,” Lyla seemed to read your mind. Her pointer finger landed on the taller of the two boys. “That’s Mr O’Hara.”

You relaxed. Even though it was an old photo, the bright-eyed kid couldn’t be too different from the man who had just hired yourself out to. 

Right?

***

Miguel felt warm.

For the first time in a century, he felt the warmth of you in the walls of his prison. It was like feeling the sun again. Like tasting wine, luscious and dark. You were home. He hadn’t risen yet. His meal sat by his window, eyes glossed over with compulsion. Miguel didn’t want to see you without eating. It had been so long after all. So very long without your touch, the brush of your lips, the scent of your hair, the feel of your pussy.

He throbbed with want for you. 

Rising from his coffin, his talons fell. Piercing two holes in the side of his meal’s neck, Miguel made sure to drink his fill until it was cold and listless. His fangs, his fangs he would keep for you. 

It was funny how it started. He had run into you while on a hunt. Well, you hadn’t noticed of course. You had been on a date, smelling of want and looking like sin in red. He wasn’t worthy of you. But that man touched you and lips had planted on your skin – he was lucky Miguel hadn’t killed him right then and there. He had been too caught up in you. Looking at you. Seeing you. Flesh and fire before him. The curls of your hair, the flare of your hips, the drag of your voice and the thrill of your laughter.

That man did not deserve any of that.

All of that belonged to him. 

In the computer age, everything lay at his fingertips. He found you with ease. Found where you lived. Who you were now. Everything that the web of connections could provide. He knew what books you read, what songs you liked, your favourite bands and flower. 

He also knew you needed him. You were twenty-five and unemployed, living with your parents and your art wasn’t selling as you’d liked. How that desperation clung to you, how that desperation made you sweet to him. 

A gurgling sound distracted him. 

Sneering, he looked at his feet to see the meal had not totally died. Rolling his eyes, he tore the heart out of its chest and sucked the remaining blood. He cursed. 

Now he’d have to shower before seeing you. What a nuisance.

After cleaning off the blood, he watched the surveillance footage of Lyla giving you the door and waited until she’d left you alone like he’d asked to find you. He didn’t want an interloper. He wanted you alone to create a repertoire. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he checked his teeth in the mirror — all traces of blood were gone. His talons were retracted, fangs disappeared but his eyes were still red from feeding. Would that freak you? He didn’t want to change it.

Tapping his smartwatch, he ordered Lyla to bring him a pair of contacts. 

“Why? Won’t it just dissolve in a few hours?” 

“Because I said so.”

“Well, now I’m not gonna bring them on principle.”

Miguel snapped. “Lyla…please bring the goddamn contacts.”

“They’re already in your room, fearless creator. Vanity drawer to the left.”

Miguel switched the watch off. Carefully, he placed the contacts onto his eyes. They stung a little but he only needed it for a few hours. They would be long dissolved and by then his eyes would return to their true brown. 

You were beautiful in the kitchen. Hair tied up in a bun ontop of your head. Messy curls sweep to your forehead. Lips, pinked and plumb moving as you chewed. You seemed to try to make yourself seem smaller. Crouching over the plate of chicken salad Lyla had prepared for you. She couldn’t cook – his golem, but she tried. They had so few human guests these days after all.

Miguel cleared his throat, making you jolt and stare at him with big eyes. Your lashes fluttered, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stood. “Oh, hello! You must be Mr. O’Hara.”

Your offered hand hung for a moment. He eyed it. Bare, delicate, your nails sharpened to a humanly acceptable point. He realised he’d been staring for longer than necessary and took it, glad he fed so his body warm. Your hand slipped in with ease. He gripped it and shook it, saying your name. “Call me Miguel. It’s nice to meet you. Lyla gave you the grounds tour?”

“Oh...no, she, uh, showed me the house and my quarters but not the grounds.” You titled your head, looking out the window. “I figured it was too dark out, no?”

Excellent. “We have very good lights. If you’re finished eating, I can give you the tour myself.”

“Yes! Definitely.” So eager. How promising.

***

Mr. O’Hara – no, Miguel, led you out by placing a hand on the small of your back. It was large and spanning and brushed against the rise of your ass before it fell to his side again and he resumed a respectable distance. He smelt of sandalwood and citrus. An oud wafted from him. This immaculately dressed older man with lines on his face creating dimension. He couldn’t be much older than you, but everything about him seemed grown whereas you seemed like a child playing dress up in adulthood. 

The grounds were massive. Three acres he’d said. There was a small rose garden that led out to a private lake. A family mausoleum that made you shutter when you passed it. Arched trees bent over the manicured green. The entire place was immaculate. 

What on earth did they need you for?

“Did the pass caretaker retire?”

Miguel shook his head. A small fence came into view. You saw dried-up shrubs and trees, barren spots and a small shed. “She passed.”

“My condolences,” you whispered softly, fingers brushing along his arm to comfort him briefly. “What is this?”

“It used to be a greenhouse.”

There was nothing green about the space. Clearing your throat, you let Miguel guide you back to the house. It was late now. You grew tired. So, very tired. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” His eyes peered curiously at her. She swore they flashed red but that may have been her weariness showing. “I hope you can be comfortable here.”

His gaze was intense. You found it difficult to look away – it caused a dizzying effect on you. Turning away, Miguel and you went back into the house and he escorted you to your quarters. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m really excited to dig in.”

He smiled – all white teeth. “No. I’m pleased to have you here. You have no idea how much.”

When you finally closed your door you let out a slight squeal of excitement. Biting your lower lip, you traced your fingers along the door. You had not expected Mr. O’Hara to look like that. Sure, he was certainly a mature man. The lines on his face told you that he was at least mid-thirties and the way he carried himself like a grown man would. 

God. You didn’t know how you were going to make it out working with such a specimen. You could barely keep it together on the walk! Running your hand over your hair, you went to your laptop bag and pulled the small notebook out. You googled your new boss, disappointed to find nothing much. There was one link that had his name, a record from an archive three hundred years ago. When you clicked it, it bounced back. 

Frustrated, you closed it and decided to just go to bed. 

Weeks passed by, and a monolith of activity passed. You devoted your all to the house but particularly the greenhouse at the back of the property beside the lake. It became a passion project of yours. Lyla and Ben were helpful of course – they made sure that you got all the aid and materials you needed to realise your vision. 

You became closer to the other members of the house. Lyla was kind and a good guide for you. Miguel was something.

It was not that you had an extensive working history but you were quite sure the interest he seemed to pay to you and your tasks were a little extra attention. In some regard, it unnerved you. But in another, you liked the praise and appreciation you received for every task completed. You also didn’t mind being in close proximity to him. There was no denying that Miguel had become a crush of yours and the star of your private fantasies.

Look at him. All harsh angles and sharpness, but his actions, his words were rose petal soft. God. He was a delicious man.

Another thing that struck you as strange was the utter loneliness of the house when the sun was up. When they had called themselves nocturnal creatures, you had merely thought it meant that they slept very late or worked very late in the evening. You were wrong though – they were completely gone during the day. In the afternoons they rose, bright and colourful as your energy dwindled down. 

“Techies,” Lyla had explained. “We work best at night – what can we say!”

It felt like bullshit but the pay was too good for you to make it your business. By the beginning of your third month, you know the place like the back of your hand. Well – most of it but for the wing Lyla had warned you against. One particularly slow day temptation had gotten the better of you. Could your curiosity be blamed for your next act? You crept into the area, floorboard creaking as you looked. It was not a different hallway than the others. 

A painting sat at the edge – but it was too poorly lit for you to see from your end. Squinting, you walked closer. The painting held a tear. It was a woman no doubt, soft-featured but you only saw up to her lower lip on which sat a mole. Something pulled at you. 

You stretched forward, fingertips brushing the dried oil and hanging paper. Pushing it up to see the face, your breathe hitched at the sight. 

The hairs at the back of your neck stood up and your stomach turned. You ran back to the other half of the house, heart speeding in your chest to jump through your ribs. You closed your door – the feeling of your skin getting ready to crawl off your body not leaving. You rubbed your ribs beneath your bosom. 

Everything about that had felt wrong. 

Since you began working here – you hadn’t taken a weekend off. Packing your bag hurriedly, you made a call to your mother, placing her on speaker. It rang for only a few moments.

“Hello, little stranger.”

“Mom – I, I need to come home.”

The panic in your voice set her voice on edge. “Baby? Is everything alright at your job?”

“I just got a bad feeling, Mom. I just need to come home.”

“Okay. Call an Uber.” Logic was your mother’s failsafe in times of duress. 

You shook your head. Ubers didn’t get this far out. You would have to walk a mile into the town to order one or call a taxi. “No. They won’t come here. I’ll head to town and catch something.”

“Call me when you’re there. Okay?” Your mother cautioned. 

“Okay...I will.”

Packing your things took longer than anticipated. You looked at your watch – it was almost five. It usually got dark around six. Shouldering your haversack and duffel bag, you snuck out of the estate and made your walk down the winding road to the town. 

Your bags felt heavy and the road took forever. Eventually, you found a bus stop. It was just about twilight now. The blue sky became a warm orange. Warm day dying into a cool evening. 

You sighed, back hitting the seat of the bench. The app told you the next bus to town was coming in the next twelve minutes. You just needed one ride to the inner city and there you could easily get an Uber home. 

Closing your eyes, you felt relaxed for the first time in an hour. 

You were safe. You were going home. 

***

He knew you were missing the moment the sun had set. 

Miguel had stretched the entire expanse of the property – searching everywhere for you. All of your things were gone from your quarters. Even your dirty laundry was gone. It was still full of your scent. He dug his nose into the rumpled sheets. Lilac and Lily. His talons dug through them – he picked up notes of fear and curiosity. Fear? What had made you fearful?

Miguel went to the abandoned wing. Your scent filled the air. Had you been snooping little girl? The painting. You’d seen your first iteration from so long ago. 

“Lyla,” Miguel roared. “I want everyone on the ground looking for her. She doesn’t leave this town – do you hear me?”

“Louder than necessary but okay.”

He drove from the estate, through the town until he picked up your scent. His talons dug into the steering. Rage fuelled him like no other. Had you really thought you could leave? He thought he could be patient, be kind, and wait you out. Then you left. 

What made you think you had the right?

His journey halted. Miguel retracted his talons and exited, fangs extended as you sat leaning back on a bus bench. About half a mile ahead, he could hear the incoming sound of the bus. You would get the chance. 

“Where do you think you’re going, mi sol?”

You jumped up, eyes wide. “Miguel! How did you?”

“I can find you anywhere.” He said gruffly. “You leave without notice at all your jobs?”

“I, uh, I was just taking the weekend off.”

He clicked his tongue. “You’re lying to me. You were snooping. Come back with me.”

“I’m not going back.” You snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on in that place but it's not natural.”

Miguel grew tired but he knew he couldn’t be heavy-handed. He had to be smart about this. “You’re right. I’m sorry about that go to your family. But know on Monday you’ll still have a job and a home with us.”

You were so easy to lie to that he almost felt bad.

The bus came and he fell back, watching you leave. The bus moved slowly down the dusty road. It was a long ride back to town. He tapped his watch and made a phone call. “Lyla. I need an accident. Now.”

“Fatal or fatale?”

He sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for you either.”

“Crash the damn bus, Lyla, now.”

“Already sent something that way, bossman.”

“Ayudame dios.”

Keeping up with the bus wasn’t a problem. Through the woodlands, he could see a creation jumping through – all fur and bolts, his favourite hairy bot crashing into the bus from the front, making the driver stop immediately. The wolf sat growing, padding its way to the front sidewheels before he punctured it with his teeth tearing through. The bus leaned to its side, dipping. He watched, from his parked spot, morbidly as the great machine broke the side window, paw reaching in. He heard you scream and smelt the faint scent of your blood. 

Miguel decided it had gone too far then, chasing the creature off. 

The driver of the bus came out first, assessing the damages. You shivered, trembling as you climbed down with your bags on your shoulders. You had been crying. Salty tears rolled down your cheeks. “How long until someone gets out here.”

The driver scratched his head. “Best luck you got is to hitchhike. They’ll come get me in an hour or two. Sorry, darling.”

That was his cue. Miguel started the car and drove by slowly. It was tinted so you excitedly jumped up and down, glad to think it was a kindly stranger. As if he would leave you to be picked up by some ill-thinking stranger.

He stopped, rolling the windows down. “Need a ride?”

You looked stiff with fear. The driver, however, beamed at him. “Oh, sure young man. This lady is heading into town. Think you can give her a ride?”

“Sure I can.” He unlocked the door, pushing it open. Miguel smiled at her, showing his sharp teeth. “Get in.”

Nodding, you hurriedly got into the vehicle. Your curly hair fell to your face as glossy eyes watched him. Miguel turned the radio on and a storm warning came out. 

“What are you?”

“Let’s get back to the estate and then I can explain.” Miguel made a sharp U-Turn and drove past the wreckage, racing back to the property. 

He could smell your fear, the hint of your blood, he looked down seeing a little blood blooming beneath your white dress. It formed a little cloud. He hissed, he hadn’t meant for you to get hurt. “Are you in pain?”

You kissed your teeth instead of responding to him. He sighed. He had expected that – you always, without fail, had a bad attitude when he fucked up. Miguel cursed himself, he should have removed that painting. Why hadn’t he thought clearly? “I didn’t want it to come to this – if you had just let me explain.”

“What is there to explain?”

The estate was coming into view now. Rising like a terrible moon on the horizon.

“It wasn’t you in the painting.” He clarified. “Well, not you. A version of you.”

He punched the code in, the gates opening as he drove up and slamming shut behind the two of you. “That doesn’t make any sense, Miguel.”

You clutched your bags, walking ahead of him as you entered the house. You set them down and Miguel smelt your blood more. “Let me fix you up. Please.”

You flinched but allowed him to lead you to the other side of the house into the very wing that had made you run. Miguel tucked his hands into his pockets. Watching you carefully step ahead. He tried hard not to look at your ass, the switch and sway of the hefty cheeks but he tried to keep his mind on task and out of the gutter.

Which was hard since you looked and smelt like you.

“Are you human?”

“No.”

You gasped, wrapping your arms around you. “Okay.”

Miguel could positively hear your mind working. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed as if to find the answer in his face. Miguel decided to make it easy on you. He opened his mouth, fangs dropped. 

“Shit!”

“Shit.”

A familiar door came up. His hand settled on your waist, stopping you from going further. He felt you shiver under his touch. The faint scent of your arousal wafting upward. His gums shivered. 

“C’mon,” his voice was gruff. “It's right through here.”

It had been decades since Miguel had let anyone but Lyla in. Having you here – where he slept, fed, and worked as a sort of rawness he had missed. He had missed you. Miguel had learned to love this new version of you, you sang as you worked along the house. Danced to pop songs and cooked in the early mornings before the sun rose. 

“Sit here.” he directed you to a chaise lounge, eyes gazing back. “Take the dress off.”

Your lips quivered with a mounting argument but common sense seemed to reign for a moment as you slipped it off. Just watching you made him harden. The black cups of your bra barely keep the fat of your tits in, through the thin lace, he could see the puckered areolas of your breasts. The high waist of your thong dug into the subtle curve of your hourglass figure.

Merida. 

Miguel set the tools down on the bed and cleaned the wound. It wasn’t too deep, just a flesh wound that didn’t need stitches. He brought his thumb to his fang and nicked the skin, pressing the open hole to your wound he smeared it with blood. 

“Jesus Christ…that’s a health code violation.”

He snorted, leaning forward and licking it clean. After his saliva had wiped it off, not even a cut remained. “All better, mi sol.”

“What does that mean?”

“My sn.” he translated. “You’re my sun. Always have been.”

“So you’re a vampire.”

“I’m a vampire.”

You hummed. “And the woman who looks like me in the painting?”

“My wife when I was human.”

“Ah.”

“And I’m a version of her?”

“One of many.”

“Did you kill them?”

“God no.” The idea made his skin burn. “I could never, never hurt you.”

“But you’re a vampire, Miguel. What kind of promise is that?”

“Every time you’ve been in my reach, I loved you until you left me. Until old age took you or until sickness took you.”

Miguel fell to his knees resting his head on your lap. Your face read on incredulity but the fear had vanished from your scent. Curiosity with hints of want. 

“I’m going back to my room.” You stated, picking up your bloodied dress. “And tomorrow night, we’ll talk.”

“Okay.”

***

You couldn’t sleep. When you got back to your room, you shower and change. Texting your mom to know you’re alright. You try to listen to music. To watch a movie. To read but nothing gets you sleep. 

Perhaps it's simply a side-effect of finding out your work for vampires. 

Rain began to pour outside, it was a soothing sound – you blushed as another thought came to mind. There was another way to get you to sleep. Opening your door, you peek outside, making sure the hallway was clear.

Closing your door, you twist the look and step out of your nightshirt and slide your panties off your hips. Digging into one of your bags, tucked at the very bottom was your prize. The blue vibrator stuck out to you. Catching your lower lip with your teeth, you sat at the edge of your bed. Raising one leg and keeping the other down, your legs were spread. 

Your thumb rose the speed to your usual one as you teased your clitoris with it. Eyes closed, you imagined a familiar scenario. Your back against a wall, legs hooked by a faceless strong man. He would take his time with you first. Fucking a thick cock in and out of your wet cunt. 

Your head fell back, as the man in your imagination sped up, fucking you harder. Back hitting the wall. As your height came – you murmured a name and a face appeared in your imagination. 

“Miguel.”

Your climax was instant, spraying wetness onto the edge of the bed, a few droplets dampening the carpet. You set the vibrator aside, collapsing onto the bed. Hands roamed up and down the length of your body, and you vibrated with desire – Miguel’s hands would be bigger than yours, rubbing along your figure, grabbing and biting. He would want you. He would let it be known how much he needed you. 

Your fingers went back to your pussy, rubbing the sticky substance about before slipping a finger in. His fingers would spread you better. Fuck you better. You were sure. 

“You look delicious, mi sol.”

Eyes flickered open – Miguel stood at your door with glowing red eyes and mouth parted in hunger as he stared. His hair was not gelled as usual, falling curls making him look dishevelled. Shamelessly, you added a second finger. The wet sounds grew louder. In the quickness of a blink, he appeared in front of you. He squatted in front of your pussy – inches from your furious fingering.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come.”

You snapped like a whip. Miguel growled before you, eyes never leaving your wanton form. “Tell me I can touch you.”

“You can touch me.” you whimpered.

He sighed, a hand resting on the mound of your pussy. His thumb stroked your clit. “Tell me I can kiss you, mi cara.”

“Kiss me.”

Miguel’s lips planted themselves on the folds of your pussy. He kissed and sucked, tonguing the insides of you while he strummed your clit. He took his time. Savouring the flavours of your pussy, moaning as he ate and tasted every crevice of you. 

Your fingers threaded his curly hair, gripping them as you ground against his face. His lips sucked on your clit, his hand moving from your mound to your thigh to keep your legs open while two of his thick fingers sawed into you. 

Messily, you sprayed his face, hips moving maddeningly against his pretty face. Miguel sucked it down, licking and nipping at your trembling centre. When he rose, his face was shiny and he grinned down at you. 

“Say you want this.”

How could you not? “I need this.”

You watched with earnestness as he pulled his pants down, slipping them off. His T-shirt went next. His body was better than you had imagined. The bounce of his thick cock. Begging to be made shiny with your pussy.

“Spread yourself for me, baby. Let me see this pretty little pussy.”

Your fingers spread yourself, you watched as he stroked himself, coating the large member with pre-cum. He bowed his head, spitting on your wet cunt. Miguel’s thumb rubbed the saliva in, using two of his fingers to open the weeping carven. Slowly he entered you – his thickness making you gasp. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, moaning as he bottomed out. You whimpered, groaning as he started to move. Your legs wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulders. 

“You’re doing so good, mi sol. Taking my cock so deep.”

His hips snapped, taking his time as you grew used to him. Miguel was certainly bigger than any toy you owned. His cock dragged along you like he was making sure you took him so deep you didn’t know where you ended and he began. 

“Such a good girl. Mi vida. Mi luz.” His hand went to your throat, squeezing it slowly as his eyes stayed on your face. Memorising every O your lips made. It was disconcerting. But when his hips sped up, shaking the bed and making you mewl – you couldn’t care less. 

Miguel’s head bowed, lips to your neck as he kissed his way down to your breasts. You felt his teeth graze the soft flesh of your breasts. He didn’t have to say what he wanted. You wanted it too, you could feel the tremble of your upcoming orgasm. 

“Do it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Teeth sinking into the flesh and sucking. You creamed his cock, shouting obscenities as your orgasm shuddered through your entire body. Stars dotted your eyes, your toes curled and your bite your tongue so hard it bled.

Miguel’s hips went faster, hips snapping hard into you that it pained you ever so slightly. His cock twitched with an especially vicious plunge, painting your walls with his cum. Fangs retracting, Miguel licked your nipple, lips kissing it as he held you close. 

The high of it all slowly died down. You felt the thickness of his cock and the fullness of his seed. Your fingers traced along his arm. “I’m guessing you’ve been hearing me most nights for the past three months.”

He kissed your sternum and then your lips. It was a passionate kiss. And you realised – your first kiss. How backwards the two of you had done everything. How unjust – because it seemed Miguel was a damned good kisser.

 “And every night I touched myself to your sound.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. Miguel smirked. “Aren’t you sore?”

“I’ll worry about that later.”

“As you wish.”

***

“So you’re sure everything is alright now?”

You rolled your eyes, reassuring your mother for the fifth today. It had been a solid week since you’d left and returned. Your mother still didn’t believe it was totally consensually – despite the fact that you had invited her and she’d come and see that you were totally alive and well. 

“You can’t blame your mother for worrying.”

“I know.” Your eyes flickered outside the greenhouse. It was night now. The other members of the house would be up soon. Your mother and you finished talking soon after. It seemed like on cue as you finished the call Miguel came into the greenhouse. Pulling off your muddy gloves, you smiled at him. At your side in and second he kissed your forehead and set his hands around your waist. 

“Hello, mi luz.”

“Hi, baby.” You kissed his mouth. “Did you feed yet?”

He hummed a confirmation, caging you against the desk. Miguel picked up a seed packing, explaining it. “Hibiscus? I don’t think those grew here.”

“Well, they’re not native,” you said. Slipping out from him, you dragged him down to his knees to see a box of soil you’d been working on. “But I’m sure I’ve got the soil mixture down. In the next few months, we’ll see how it goes.”

His hand rubbed along the side of your body. “That’s incredible, baby.”

Standing up, you looked down at him and blushed. “Well, its no machine wolf.”

“Mhmm.” His hands held your hips, squeezing the globes of your ass cheeks. He smacked the fat, groping it unashamedly. His nose pressed to your groin. “You’re an incredible woman. I hope you remember that.”

“Kiss up.”

His eyes flashed, and his lips spread to a mischievous grin. Miguel fell back onto the ground of the greenhouse. You smirked setting legs on either side of your hips. You unbuckled his pants and took his member out. You stroked it, spitting on the tip of it, before rubbing up and down. His hand raised your skirt up, a talon stretching out and cutting the side of your panty off. He pulled it off, baring your pussy against the rough material of your jeans. 

Hips raised, Miguel pulled you onto his cock, grinning as you whimpered at the sudden intrusion of his thickness. Your hands pressed to his hard chest, crying as he fucked up into you. 

Yes, you thought, eyes rolling back, everything was more than alright.

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[dreamkidddream]

Vampire!Miguel O’Hara Headcanons!

He has been living in my head RENT FREE ever since I saw the movie last week and rightfully so cause my lord does his fangs have me weak 😮‍💨 expect something more full-fledged written out on his fangs and the vampire AU- reader is gender neutral!

A/N: in this AU Lyla is a vampire instead of AI (but still his assistant somewhat) and this is kinda sorta based off of this post!

It’s been a tragic and lonely life for Miguel. The last time he truly felt at peace was when you were still by his side- his dear, sweet, human lover

Just the thought of you caused him unbearable pain- he remembers the good moments, the fleeting kisses and more- and then he remembers you dying in his arms, your blood coating his hands as you tried to comfort him. That’s how kind you were- spending your last moments alive choking out how much you love him before you passed on

He’s been an empty shell ever since, even after hundreds of years. The world continued to evolve, and it took a while for Miguel to adapt with it. Having Lyla helped him stay sane somewhat, but he would never be able to let go of the past- of you

He was bitter and angry- angry at your kind for your death, angry at himself for not being able to save you, angry that you’re not here. All it took was one glance at your portrait and his fury would boil over. It’s been nights where Lyla would have to leave him be as he tore apart his home, no way of calming him down. Those nights, while now very rare, were hard to witness

He was able to blend in with humans- somewhat. It wasn’t a secret that a lot of people were attracted to him, even if Miguel made it clear that he wasn’t interested (he would always tell you that if his heart did beat, it would beat solely for you). But he could deal with it if it meant getting a meal out of it (and getting rid of some of his annoyances and pent up frustration all at once)

But he does enjoy some of the modern inventions that came out of this time (as much as he hates to admit)- and it lead him to finding something he once lost years ago

It was only an accident- in a rush someone bumped into him outside on the way home. A minor inconvenience, one that he can scoff and glare at (he sometime forgets to be mindful of his fangs if he’s really irritated)-

Until he smelled it- the sweet, comforting scent that drove him wild, that made his fangs poke out in dire need for more. Your scent

He couldn’t believe it- has he finally gone mad? But as he whipped around, he saw you facing him. You- donned in this time period’s clothes, bright eyes gazing at him like all those years ago. It was you, it was you!

Miguel know that he looks like a fool, mouth agape while his eyes blown out. He wanted to take you in his arms so bad, hands outstretched with his a genuine smile that he hasn’t worn in years-

Until he sees your confusion and remembers that you don’t know nor remember him

He’s heartbroken as his hands return to his side- but then he gets an idea and newfound determination. You both were given another chance, and he has nothing but time to remind you of what was once before

He plays off his mistake well (always the charmer and gentleman) and it doesn’t take much before he’s taking your hand in his, introducing himself and vice versa. How long has it been since he’s heard your melodic voice? He had to repress his groan when his name left your lips, a shiver going down his spine. The same warmth he missed has finally returned, and all he wants to do is soak it all in

He already has Lyla finding all of your social media accounts and more when he walks away- wanting to know your interests/hobbies, where you work, if anyone is interested in you, where you live- everything

Outsiders wouldn’t be able to tell (but Lyla could after knowing him for literal hundreds of years), but Miguel’s attitude has improved after his encounter with you. He’s still uptight and stone face, but he’s gotten a bit softer with his approach to others and has a little more patience (if you squint). He’s also going to her more for “advice” (ie. tell me what to do to win (Y/N) back now)

This is probably the greatest moment in her life knowing Miguel actually wants her in his business for once lmao

Miguel’s delusional in a sense- he wants back what he lost so long ago that he’s willing to do anything to have you back. He’s already making a plan on what needs to be done before you can come home with him, setting up arrangements to make your arrival comfortable when the time comes

His appetite isn’t yet satisfied- if anything it’s grown more in anticipation. Miguel couldn’t let himself go feral and scare you off, so he needed to feed before he saw you. Just thinking about how sweet your blood smelled had his head spinning- you were too tempting to be around already, especially when he’s hungry

He couldn’t stop thinking about you before, but now he really can’t- he’s imagining all of the new memories you’ll make together once you’re with him. His love for you hasn’t changed, even if it pains him that you don’t remember any of it

He’s already lost you once, and he refuses to let it happen again

He’s made the mistake of not turning you the first time- he doesn’t plan on making it again

[madschiavelique]

Cursed Vampire!Miguel O'Hara

Okay so i came back from this tiny pause and idk why but a sudden hit of vampire diaries content has been multiplying all over my medias after i returned fully and ooo boi

vampire miguel

but not any vampire miguel

cursed vampire!miguel

on the 30th of august i did a spell for the blue moon in pisces and i was guided by my witchy friend who reminded me about the 4 elements and their usage in witchcraft : if you want something fast you use fire (candles), something that is a bit less faster and that purifies you use air (incent for instance), something that takes a little longer and that you use to heal you use water (rain, rivers, moon water etc) and if you want to make something to last in time, you use earth (burying something in the earth for instance)

and she punctuated this recall by “which is why curses are most of the time buried in the earth, because it lasts in time”

and I was like

yea cursed vampire miguel

but with a twist

content warnings : mentions of blood, killings, miguel trying to kill himself but failing, general vampire stuff and some personal lore i elaborated word count : 4,6k (not proofread)

Let’s imagine the setting. A little village lost in the middle of nowhere, Miguel being perhaps mayor, or even just chief of the village if we go back enough in time to a point where electricity was still just a thing you could see when lightning was striking in the sky but had no place in your home.

He owns the biggest house, a manor with multiple rooms and multiple people living in it ranging from normal villagers to servants. Is he a member of the aristocracy ? Not so much, let’s say that he was a hard worker in the fields or something that involved him getting them big muscles (lumberjack perhaps, who knows) and that he revolted against a previous higher up that owned the place.

Xina, his lover at the time, was a witch, hiding the village. She had helped Miguel with her magic without him knowing when he made the rebellion happen. See, she was ambitious, and if Miguel could help her reach her goals, then she’d use him to her own profit. But one more thing, she was deeply in love with him.

And he did love her, until one thing happened. Dana, Dana D’Angelo happened.

Xina believed in many things, in spirits, in demons, in deities, but if there was one thing she didn’t believe in was second chances.

And so, she cursed him, for you don’t play with a woman’s heart, even less with a witch's one.

It had been a few days since the symptoms of this curse still unknown to his consciousness had started spreading within his body.

First, the same night she was executing the ritual, he couldn’t sleep well. He felt heavy, and yet his head felt airy like it was full of cotton. He felt feverish, his shaking body boiling one last time before his life would turn to eternal ice. He had weird dreams that night, altering between horrors and his eyes opening to his window, looking at the full moon.

The next day felt odd, he had this sort of dryness that never left his mouth, and no matter how much he passed his tongue on the inside of it or drunk anything, it stayed parched. The difficulty and surprise settled in when he tried to eat his breakfast but his silverware burned him. He ended up taking something that did not necessitate him to cut, an apple, a fruit, something to satiate the sharp hunger that burned in his body.

He didn’t like seeing people much in the morning, but considering how many lived in this place, he’d have to face them some time or later. And the light, the light from outside felt… too bright for his eyes. The chandeliers that were still getting lit up in the corridors didn’t burn his eyes though, so why ?

That night, he couldn’t sleep. The next day, going outside felt like an army of ants were crawling under his skin as he got under the sun, and these tingles lasted all day, until at the end of it the tingles had turned into a slight burning. He didn’t understand, it was winter, and here he was catching sunburns.

And the next day, another symptom added itself to the list. Why did the people surrounding him smelled so good ? Why did he feel like being near anyone gave him the sensation that he had not eaten anything for days and that they were smelling exactly like the one thing he craved for and needed ?

And then he couldn’t see himself any more in the mirrors, and cutlery felt like he was touching hell, and being outside was like being in hell. And when he passed someone that felt so good, why were his nails elongated into claws ? He definitely ruined some curtains at some point because he was trying to retract them.

And… wait, Xina hadn’t been much around lately. Why couldn’t he get a grasp of her ? Why did he never cross her way ? Had she discovered about his affair ?

And then, one night, when the multiple symptoms had added and fixed themselves entirely in Miguel’s body, his entire property started acting weird around him.

He could hear their whispers, their hearts beating in their chests and pumping blood in their entire body, he could smell their singular perfumes from metres away : everything felt as heightened as dull.

More and more people started leaving their place from the manor. They had heard rumours, rumours saying that he was a malfeasant being, that he had organised the rebellion for power and that he intended to turn everyone here slaves to his demonic energy.

Soon enough, only Miguel remained in the manor. He was more and more absent, living as a recluse in his own part of his quarters.

And one night, as someone was banging heavily on his doors, he came downstairs. As he opened them, he saw that the villagers that had been living under the same roof with him for several months were armed, ready to stab or spike him.

Of course, Xina was at the center of the group. Followed what looked like a fight, but Miguel was almost twice bigger than most of them, and ten times stronger, so he massacred most of the rebels against him until the remaining ones decided to leave the village.

Xina came to him, and told him :

"You have grievously offended me by your cheating, and this crime against me is an affront I could not let pass. Hence, I have cursed you."

Miguel tried to attack her, but as his claws tried to dig into her, he was violently pushed away and his back came into contact with a wall, he fell to the ground, remaining seated against it. Xina walked towards him.

"You can't do anything to me," she said, a pale glow glimmering around her as the sort of crystal crisalide that surrounded her faded at the lack of impact against it.

"What have you done to me?" he breathed.

"I told you, I cursed you," she knelt. "I made you a vampyr."

he looks at her, his eyes finally turning red. She smiled. He had heard of these creatures of legend, these stories made to frighten children and the superstitious, but he had never thought that he would become one in his turn.

"You should be happy, I've given you the gift of immortality. I told myself that eternity would be enough time for you to reflect on your actions," she said, tilting her head to one side. "The few friends you have left will die, those around me will die too, and much later it will be my turn to die. But you, you will remain. Children age, lovers perish. Kingdoms are born and burn up, and you, you will go on."

He didn't want eternity. Why want it when you know the world you live in, but did he really have a choice?

"But you see, even in my revenge I will remain merciful. I offer you two solutions." she said, raising her hand next to her head to count the options. "The first, you find my curse, and destroy it, which will return you to mortal rank." Hope sprang up in Miguel's now cold mind. "Secondly, you find someone who will love you despite what you are and be prepared to forgive all your faults and misdeeds. However, they won't bring mortality back to you, you'll simply be able to change them into a being just like you, and to live with that person for eternity." She rose to her feet, looking down on him before saying her last words:

"Farewell, Miguel O'Hara. The secret of my curse will be taken to my grave. You were my first and last love. You took hold of my heart and crushed it. If you fail to find my curse, choose well." Choose well.

She left, leaving him alone. Remorse, Regret, Guilt and Anger mingled within him in his grey heart. He was alone.

The first decades and the first century were most complex. First of all, he searched the entire region, every piece of land and stone, for Xina's curse. His first instinct was to go to the room she occupied in the manor house, but she had taken everything she owned with her. He went to his family home, searching every room with great interest. But there was nothing.

He searched the library of his manor for information on witches and their rituals, and the only information he could find was that most curses were buried in the ground.

Days, weeks, months of digging everywhere, and nothing. Strictly nothing. The despair of loneliness overtook him earlier than he thought, and soon enough, he tried to put an end to it.

He tried many times. To make matters worse, all the silver objects he used for everything had been taken away by the villagers. The coup had been prepared, Xina had planned everything so that he would have to live with himself.

Hanging himself was useless, as he could no longer breathe, and the cutlery, which was not made of silver, bent against his skin when he tried to stab himself. All night he tried, and when the time finally came for the sun to rise, he placed himself in full sunlight, telling himself that the tingling would be enough to finish him off.

But nothing, the sun stung his pale skin slightly, but didn't go any further. The sensation was slightly unpleasant, but he wasn't suffering terribly. Trying to stay all day in the sun to try and burn himself was useless, for when night came, his skin healed by itself.

Rage hung in his stomach as much as hunger, but he smelt something so enticing that for a moment he wondered if normal blood was flowing through his veins again and he was alive. A simple passer-by had come too close to the village, and Miguel had let his gnawing desire for something to eat get the better of him, draining all the energomer's blood in just a few seconds.

It didn't take him long to become addicted to the feeling of life that filled him everytime he drank blood. He couldn't live like a human again right? So he would take whatever human life he could find on his path.

He knew of a small village nearby where he could feast. It took him a long time to learn to control his appetite, but it took less to learn that his curse had given him an intoxicating beauty that attracted all those he desired. Another of Xina's cruel tricks, he told himself, people will simply be blinded by my aura, thinking they love me when it's really just cursed desire.

He began methodically, taking the inhabitants back to his manor one by one. The first few times he drank them raw, but soon he got used to not drinking all their blood and making them his reserves. They were intoxicated, he could do whatever he wanted with them, but above all: their blind desire made them immensely loyal. None of them ran away, none of them refused to have their blood drunk, and even if Miguel told them to leave, they were far too pained by the thought and preferred to stay.

When the village was hit by an epidemic of a disease, Miguel went there to dump the few corpses that had not survived his bites, so that his business could pass incognito.

He knew of a town not far away and how difficult it was to house all its inhabitants. He went there, explaining to the mayor that he had recently bought a piece of land not far away with old abandoned houses that could help. "What a generous man," said the mayor, and soon enough much of the overcrowded town found itself reviving the village.

Miguel was an experimentalist in his approach to humans. It was so strange to have to deal with them in this way, not as people like himself, but as prey and how he would go about capturing them.

In particular, he was experimenting with his physical abilities. Some twenty years later, when the village was well established, he was tempted to go to the village pub. He could drink as much as he liked and didn't get drunk, he could carry heavy loads without any problem, and he gave himself over to the desires of the flesh with an excpetional energy that pleased all his partners - although they all complained about his icy body.

A century later, all was well, he had once again continued his trick of taking various villagers to his home and making them his delicacies, but he was doing it more sparingly. Humans became less foolish with time, and soon disappearances became too much of a topic in the village. Miguel was finally suspected, after a series of attempts to pin the blame on other suspects.

The slaughter was terrible, and the bottles of wine he filled with blood in the huge cellar of his manor house multiplied until he no longer had to hunt for a long time.

The company of men had become too boring for him. He had become bitter towards them, finding them profoundly idiotic. So he locked himself away in his books, and only left his manor occasionally to go and get more.

But Miguel was no longer interested in finding a way to end it all, he now wanted to get on with feeding his intellect and perhaps, who knows, one day help humans to make this world a better place and become less stupid.

Fifty years later you arrived. You had fled from a village further afield and found this one, which seemed untouched and empty, just what you needed to live peacefully.

You entered the manor house, and unlike all the other dwellings in the area, this one didn't seem so dilapidated and abandoned. You were convinced that someone was living there as soon as you saw one of the chandeliers lit. You arrived in the library, which was by far the least dusty part of the house, and for good reason - Miguel hardly ever went out of it. You found him sitting in his armchair with a book in his hand.

Miguel was 232 at the time, and had long since forgotten the second chance that Xina had offered him. And now that he was a more mature vampyr who didn't attack everything that moved, he managed to strike up a conversation with you.

He was intrigued that a human had arrived here, it's been a long time since he'd seen one. At first he was bothered that you were disturbing his calm and solitude, and he hesitated to kill you on the spot, just like that, without you having time to wonder what was happening.

But when you explained that you'd run away from your village, he was intrigued. And his interest was further piqued when he learned that the reason you had fled was that you were suspected of practising witchcraft, and therefore should be burnt. You didn't really seem like much of a threat, but then again, Xina didn't seem much of a threat either...

He also noticed that his charms weren't working on you, as you were obviously protected. His trained nose detected garlic in your necklace and bracelet, mixed with other herbs that wouldn't do him any good if he were to come to close to them.

Garlic cleanses, it 'purifies', it's a very good antibiotic like lemon (which repels spiders). Vampyrism would have been considered a blood disease, which in Miguel's eyes was not far from the truth.

Eating garlic purified the bacteria present in the blood and, according to some people, would either turn a vampyr back into a normal person or cause their death. The plague came from miasmas, and strong smells like garlic and spices kept them away, which was a reason in the collective mind for vampyrs to use them as a repelling weapon. These little things wouldn't do him much harm, but their influence was enough for you to not feel his hypnoze.

He agreed to let you stay with him, and went so far as to hunt animals for you and bring you vegetables from his garden so that you could eat properly. Why did he keep you with him when he could no longer stand humans and you could be a danger to him? It's quite simple.

Vampyrs aren't sentimental, the only state that comes close to love or attraction for them is obsession, and it didn't take Miguel long to develop one for you. Second, after so many years of loneliness, sharing some parts of his days with someone felt good. And then there was the fact that you were a witch, and that with a bit of luck you'd be able to help him put an end to his curse.

You started off naively enough, but you were curious about vampyrs and kept asking him questions on the subject:

"Why can't you see yourselves in the mirror?"

He sighs, taking you to a room in the manor where stood an old mirror. He took your arm and placed you with him in the reflection. You could only see your own reflection, and just as you were about to marvel in your shudder, Miguel explains:

"That mirror you see there is made of steel, a material that could be lethal to me, and is a formidable weapon against my kind. I'd advise you not to try and break it to attack me, that would be a serious mistake. Most of the mirrors there were in my time were made of steel, and since then they've started to make..." he led you further into a corridor where there was another mirror, "made of aluminium."

He placed you in front of it again, and this time you could see your reflection in the mirror. He was so tall compared to you, and so powerful... a shiver ran down your spine as your eyes met.

"With fae, they can't see themselves in lead, it's their Achilles heel." he said before letting you go and moving on.

You didn't feel any particular hatred towards vampyrs, more a certain curiosity, and obviously a fright. These creatures had been alive for so long, had seen empires fall, kingdoms be born, wars break out, and they had lived through so much...

Miguel had almost forgotten the need for humans to sleep. Fortunately, there was still one bed for you to occupy: Miguel's.

It was a bit dusty, and you even joked to Miguel that you were surprised it wasn't a coffin. He sighed as he got your bed ready, thinking that if you hoped to make friends in such a mediocre way he'd already regret his decision to keep you.

But that didn't stop him watching over you while you slept.

You seemed so peaceful like that, abandoned to the world of dreams, of your insignificant little life. Your frailty fascinated him. And to think that he himself had once been like that...

Your days were quiet, there weren't many exciting activities. You were used to picking and working all day in your village, but here you had nothing to do.

So you chatted to Miguel, listening to him tell you a bit about his whole life. In 232 years of existence one must have a few amusing anecdotes to tell, don't you think? You spent almost all of your time together, and it wasn't long before you started to have feelings for him.

You were afraid, afraid of what he would think, that he would tell you that "it was to be expected, humans are so easily corrupted. You don't love me, you're simply attracted by the beauty that was given to me to attract you."

But you knew it wasn't that evil charm that had got you, it was him all over. Perhaps you should avoid him? Maybe you should leave...

Miguel had felt the change in you, heard how your heart beat a little faster and stronger when you spoke to him, noticed the change in your attitude, especially when he caught you deep in thought. You were hiding something from him, and he was curious to know what.

One evening, when you'd pretended to go to bed, you came down the stairs, grabbed a few provisions that you'd packed in your basket in the kitchen, and silently walked through the big door. It wrung your heart to leave, but a human and a vampyr are an impossible love story. It was only a few minutes later, as your smell and the presence of your warmth began to disappear, that Miguel looked up from his book and your absence hit him right in the throat.

You trudged along on the muddy ground, the snow falling on your body and chilling you despite your coat. A sound of wind as swift and as a sharp blade on a stone brushed against your ear when Miguel was standing in front of you. You stopped walking, watching the prince of the night who was not afraid of the cold let himself be caressed by the snowflakes. None of them melted on his skin.

"What are you doing?" he asked, even though the question sounded almost like a threat.

"I realised that my humanity would be my undoing soon enough in your presence, and so I chose to leave."

"Why," he questioned as he moved closer to you until you had to tilt your head back in the hope of continuing to look him in the eye.

Your heart raced, "My personal affections towards you have shifted."

"Shifted?" he enquired as his hand gently came to clear the melted flakes from your cheeks, or was it your tears? "How have they shifted?"

"They became... omnipresent."

A slight smile stretched his lips as his fingers passed under your chin

"Tell me about them." an order, a necessity.

"They... they make me feel different." you say as your voice shrivels.

"How different," he says as he leans in and brings his face close to yours.

"Warm, and fuzzy," you whispered, "and make my every thoughts come back to... you."

Your breath catches on his lips, his red eyes never leaving yours.

"Am I the object of your love, mi vida?" His breath was cold, and exuded death.

"Yes, you are," you confirm as your voice cracks.

He came to kiss you, the coolness of his lips even colder than the night, and you shivered as the contrast with your skin and the sensation of passion in his kiss sent tingles to the back of your skull.

In as many years of existence, you're the only one who's managed to make him feel human again, and that's enough for him.

"Let's bring you back inside, alright?" he said as he parted from your lips to lift you up in one fell swoop into his princess arms.

And so your relationship gradually metamorphosed, each day sweeter and more fused than the last, until finally the time came for Miguel to think about making you his eternal bride.

What a vile gift she had given him, to allow him to turn you into such a loathsome, despicable, odious being. This choice was going to deprive you of so many things. From the sunlight going from caress to crush, your appetite capsizing, your inability to sleep again. And he didn't want to deprive you of your life.

He didn't want to turn you into such a monstrosity, but you reassured him, explaining that there was nothing in the world that would make you shy away from being with him. Besides, was a life without him by your side really worth living when you were growing old and he remained eternally young and beautiful?

So, with determination, he finally sank his fangs into your skin and set about turning you into a vampire. He simply let the venom infect your veins without ever, ever drinking your blood.

And your change took place just as his had, over the course of several days. He mopped up your fever, held you close to him when your dreams were strange, got you used to going out in the sun without going too far, and then introduced you to drinking blood. He had forgotten how hungry and powerful a new vampire could be, and seeing you almost empty his entire wine cellar made him shudder: not with regret or disgust, but with euphoria.

Never again would he be alone.

The years went by, and your couple survived every era. The good thing about living forever is that you can always find ways to entertain yourself, and it stays with you over time. You still remember so well, for example, that moment when you swam in that lake moving a poor piece of wood and people nicknamed the legendary creature you had inadvertently created 'the Lochness monster'.

It wasn't until years later, out of curiosity, that Miguel wondered what had become of Xina. And after several months of intensive research around the world, you find her grave.

He had read some of the records of what she had achieved. She had climbed far enough up the social ladder until her decisions were taken seriously by certain governors. But soon enough, when she passed the age of 110 while still looking pretty young for her age, she was accused of witchcraft, and instead of dying at the stake, she stabbed herself in the heart, her relatives burying her here.

The two of you stood by her grave and still insisted on bringing her flowers. But it was as he lowered himself to the ground that Miguel remembered what she'd said: "The secret of my curse will be taken to my grave."

Could it be...

So you both set about digging it all up, digging until you finally found her coffin. You were, after all, creatures of blasphemy, but opening her grave made you hesitate at first. Who knows what spell she might have put on her coffin to ensure that anyone who opened it would be cursed?

But when he opened it and discovered her skeleton, he found nothing.

"You were my first and last love. You grabbed my heart..."

"And you crushed it," he whispered.

He plunged his hand between her empty ribs, until he touched something hard, something that didn't have the texture of bone. He reached for the object, a wooden box sealed with black wax.

"Is it... what I think it is ?" you asked.

He nodded, silent. He wouldn't open it, he'd learned from some of his lessons. With his powerful hand, he crushed the box between his fingers with ease, a cascade of dust mixed with sand, herbs and other objects from the ritual surging through his fingers.

And his body burned with a delicious warmth. The familiarity of the humanity in him completed itself, while for you, too, vitality returned to your veins.

The curse was lifted, and now you could act normally. What a surprise it was when your two bodies touched and the warmth they emanated made you smile. And what a joy it was to be able to eat normally and not get a rash on your skin if you spent too many hours in the sun.

Thus your life ended in peace and love, both of you continuing your lives together peacefully.

[catmansquad]

Terms of Endearment:

Soulmate!Miguel: “Mi Amor”

Vampire!Miguel: “My love” / “notlazohtzintlé” (Nahuatl: “My beloved darling/precious thing)

Incubus!Miguel: “(Grinning) Mi Vida!”

Mihail, The Bright Blade: “My Beloved… (hand kiss)”

Merman!Miguel: “My Walker.” Yandere!Miguel: “Mine.”

[mrsoharaa]

To him, the taste of your enriched blood was as sweet and delectable- if not, even more so then wine itself. So highly addictive and intoxicating to his ravenous tongue, the rush of the euphoric sensation coiling from the pumping veins of your frail wrist drowning his every rational and sensible coherent thought from the delicious, candied liquid enriching through his body.

He holds your waist tighter against his solid stature, protracted, sharpen fangs clinging and sinking even more deeper into the tender flesh of your wrist. Growls deeply but softly, to the enthralling taste of you permeating into his languid tongue and throbbing veins. His beaming, glossed cardinal eyes peer up at you swiftly- gazing up at you with such carnal desire and fueling need pooling within those round, beautiful cryptic irises of his.

The soft, breathy low moans that breaks pass your trembling lips from time to time only heightening his growing arousal and dire need for you. Feeling such an uncomfortable tightness swell at the hemming of his confining jeans.

[ladybirdswritings]

i wanna write a superrr dark and steamy miguel fic where he goes full wanda maximoff and steals the reader into his own universe to keep for himself,, would u all eat that up? 💔

no because imagine how hungry he’d be for her. she’s human, he’s not but he has to have her and he CAN—

[atlasscrumpit]

🔞Vampire Miguel x reader🔞

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, ABUSE, CNC, BLOOD AND OTHER TRIGGERING SUBJECTS

Maybe it was sick and a little twisted, actually it definitely was very twisted.

But, you made the perfect couple. You craved pain and scars and Miguel craved to cause pain.

He loved seeing you covered in bruises and wounds caused by him, he liked to imagine you were his perfect canvas.

Every night carefully painting you in new scars and hearing your beautiful cries of pain.

He woke up in the morning, pulling the blanket back from you to see a bruise on your hip in the shape of his hands. He smiled and gently ran his finger over the new bruise. You slowly woke up and turned around to face Miguel.

“Good morning.” You muttered tiredly as he leant in and kissed you softly.

“You look so beautiful this morning.” He whispered as you smiled and kissed him again.

“Stay here and I’ll get you some breakfast.” He said before climbing out of bed.

You watched him leave and slowly stretched in bed.

After a while he returned with a cup of coffee and some breakfast. He placed it on the table beside you before getting into bed again.

While you sipped your coffee Miguel started to kiss your neck softly.

“Once you’re done with you’re breakfast I’ll have mine.” He said nuzzling into your neck making you chuckle softly.

While you ate breakfast he continued to kiss and suck the skin on your sensitive neck.

You knew he must be hungry but he alway made sure you ate first before he fed off you.

Once you were finished he sighed in relief and sat against the headboard, patting his lap. He didn’t need to use words anymore, you were used to the routine. You straddled his waist and wrapped your arms around his neck before he moved the hair away from your neck.

You tilted your neck to the side and he gripped you hair roughly before plunging his teeth into your neck. You gasped in pain but couldn’t help but moan, the pain making your body react in pleasure.

He gripped your hips and you felt his claws starting to piece your skin.

You cried out in pain, only making Miguel even hungrier as he drank your blood. His claws deep in your skin, stopping you from moving an inch.

He finally pulled away and looked at you while you sobbed, he looked at you hungrily and retracted his claws as he smiled watching you cry.

“That’s it, my sweet pet. It’s too much to handle isn’t it? Is it too much for my porcelain doll to handle?” He taunted as you cried even more, but he knew how much you loved it.

“And let me guess, princess. Are you getting off on this, huh? Don’t lie to me.” He asked, brushing a piece of hair out of your face as you looked at him and nodded.

He chuckled and took in your beautiful form, his large shirt draped over your body, blood on your hips and neck from him, your mouth slightly hung open while you cried.

He moved you a little so you were only straddling one of his thighs.

“Then go on, be a pathetic little girl for me.” He whispered as you looked at him and bit your lip. You started slowly grinding on his large thigh as you whined a little.

“Look at you, I can feel how wet you are. You’re such a disgusting little creature, aren’t you?” He taunted as you covered your mouth and continued grinding on his thigh.

“God, look at you. Maybe I should turn you, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful at this age, I should keep you like this forever. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Eternity being my good little girl.” He growled as he pressed his palm against his crotch and groaned lowly.

“Fuck, stop.” He demanded as you immediately stopped grinding. He grabbed you and pinned you onto the bed and began kissing over the wound on your neck. He stripped your panties off but kept you in his shirt that you were wearing.

He brought his sweatpants down and then his boxers, letting his hard cock free as he looked down at you.

“Miguel, please.” You whispered as Miguel looked down at you and smiled. He stood up off the bed and roughly pulled you towards him by your legs. He forced your ankles onto his shoulders before digging his claws into your thigh and guiding himself inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re such a disgusting little beast.” He growled as he gripped both of your thighs and began pounding into you, making you cry out.

Miguel adored watching your face while he fucked you, you would be completely lost in pain and pleasure while his claws drew blood from your thighs.

“That’s it, my pathetic girl. No one wanted you did they? So fucking desperate for me to take you, you begged on your fucking knees to be my pet.” He taunted as you gripped the bed sheets and cried.

“No…” You muttered as Miguel chuckled.

“No? That’s all you have, little human? Can’t even fucking fight against me, can you?” He growled as he reached forward and gripped your throat, you looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

He looked at you and felt himself getting closer just from watching you try to fight for air.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered as he threw his head back and went back to gripping both of your thighs, he thrust into one last time and felt himself cum inside on you as he heard you gasp for air.

Once he was done he looked down at you and slowly pulled out before climbing on top of you and kissed you. He reached down and started rubbing your clit as you moaned and arched your back.

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it? Blood dripping down your legs while my cum drips out of you. My pathetic little girl is going to cum, isn’t she?” He whispered as you kept your eyes on his.

“Yes, yes… please, don’t stop.” You cried out as he laughed and felt your legs starting to shake.

“Need to…” You muttered as he chuckled and kissed you.

“Go ahead.” He whispered, he leant forward and kissed you roughly, muffling your loud moans as he rubbed you through your climax.

Once you had climaxed he slowly took his hand away and began kissing all over your face.

“Perfect, such a good girl. Deep breaths, my love.” He whispered as you watched him hazily and got your breath back.

He waited until the fog cleared from your brain, he helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water.

“We need to get you cleaned up, babydoll.” He whispered, playing with your hair while you sipped the fresh cold water.

You looked at him for a moment.

"Were you serious?" You muttered as he looked at you in confusion.

"About making me a vampire so I can stay with you..." You whispered, looking away. You were afraid of the answer, you were even more afraid that you were just a temporary snack for Miguel.

He smiled and held your face in his hand.

"Yes, I was serious. I thought about it a lot... The thought of losing you makes my heart ache more than it ever has. But, it's up to you completely, my love. Why don't we take a nice shower and you think about it?" He asked as you blushed and nodded.

"Yes, please."

--

You sat on the couch in the living room while Miguel treated the wounds he had left on your body.

"I want to stay with you forever, Miguel... I love you." You muttered as Miguel looked at you and smiled.

"Are you sure, sweetheart? This is a big decision." He asked as you nodded.

"Yes, I'm completely sure. I'll miss you feeding off me but I'd gladly give it up if it means I get to be with you." You whispered in response as Miguel smiled.

He leant forward and kissed you softly.

"Than it's decided, my love. I'll take the best care of you while you turn, you don't need to be afraid. I love you so much, you're going to be mine forever." He whispered, kissing you again as you smiled.

"Forever."

[kapapi-o]

Thirst (VampMiguel x GenNeutral Reader Oneshot)

Word count: 407

warning: some dark themes, obsessive and possessive behavior (from reader), masochism if you squint.

des: AU Vampire Miguel and his partner who's thirstier than him, basically lol.

=================================

Carefully, he placed a hand to my waist and pulled me closer, using his other hand to trail alongside my neck. He comes closer, his warm breath tickling my skin before I feel the piercing of his fangs, taking from me what I let him. I gripped the sides of his arms not out of pain, but from want. A want for more. 

This innate and insatiable want--to be the object he desires and holds most precious to him...and yet, as he drank from me, he was so soft and gentle...I felt how much he cared enough to ensure I'd feel alright without having to ask... 

So much so that I felt guilty for feeling that way. That I want to be his...purely in the sense that--when I breathe him and he eventually has to part from me, that I would want to see him again so that there's reason in living...Or in the way that he's forever on my mind and i in his... 

When he loves me so tenderly, I want to be beat with it...I want to feel the strongest sensations of his love and affection, and bear the pain he'd give with it. I want to crumble under the weight of them both, and be held down and bound to him that way.

He cradles me so lovingly, so carefully, that it leaves much to be desired. Though I know he does it to keep it painless and safe, I want to suffocate in that feeling of him...but I wouldn't dare say it, these are...dark thoughts. 

"Miguel..." I breathed out, calling to him in the dark of night while he lay laxed next to me. 

"Yes?" He ran his fingers through my hair, eyes of devotion peering into my lusting ones...I knew it. 

"Nothing, my love...I just wanted to hear your voice.." I lied and smiled sweetly at him. Him being none the wiser grinned at me, returning to his sleeping state, his arms anchoring and tormenting me once more. 

Yet another night where I can't look him in the eye and tell him how much I yearned to be craved by him...not when he looks at me so purely…

Everytime i feel him biting into me, I feel the lines between madness and love blurring more and more…and each time, my sanity trickles bit by bit.

–At least, his thirst is quenchable.

=================================

A/n: A little oneshot of Miguel O'Hara that I cooked up one delirious 2 AM morning. I've been only posting Cyno, so I wanted to stir the pot a little, a dash of variety, get some spaeice in there 🥴🤌

I'll update my other things soon, toodaloo~

-Kapi <3

=============================tags==

[pekejscatbed]

would anyone be interested in a Miguel O’Hara x Reader smut fic where vamp Miguel eats reader out who’s on their period

[thatgrlnany]

Ok, but Olivia Rodrigo's new single 'Vampire' but it's your song and you publish it, letting the world know that you are on the mend from the shitty experience you had dating Miguel O'Hara.

My God. I'm a sucker for this song. I love Vampire.

[iiovserii]

i’m currently 4.5k words into a prologue of a miguel o’hara fic..i trust myself to have it finished by tonight 😗 i don’t know if i’ll make a teaser or release the masterlist for it first

[writerofsouls]

um im working on a new fic draft! a period piece vampire miguel x human f!reader...let me know if that's something you would like to see published

[catmansquad]

The Thirst

Vampire Miguel AU? Why not. I will inevitably add this as a proper chapter in The Looking Glass, but this is the X Reader version. Typing on mobile is hard...

Earth 9962 (Iteration: 300)

The Unorthodox, London, 2022

The club had once been an old church, now it served another order of service altogether; aglow in vibrant neons, heaving with the pulse of music and life. Dancers lost in the beat on the shining floor, couples lost in each other on plush sofas on the upper levels and at least one or two strangers passed out in each other's arms somewhere in the shadows.

'The regular tonight, Mike?' The bartender spoke up to be heard over the pounding beat of the music, addressing the figure seated before him; Slicked dark hair, brown eyes, always mumbled when he spoke, always with a strange hunger about him, yet the guy couldn't be lacking in cash, for the pricy clothes he always strutted up in.

'Yeah, just the usual...' He took the crinkled note that was slid across the counter in response and replaced it with the strongest whiskey the house could offer. The whiskey would not soothe the ache in him, Miguel knew that, but this scene served two purposes: the first reminded him of what it meant to be human, to do things mortals did- like breathing, and drinking. For certain he could still eat and drink, hell he could even still get drunk if enough of a vast quantity passed his lips, but these were just simple pleasures, nothing would truly sate him. Then came the second reason; the club itself, the heaving bodies, the pulse of life. He could hear the heartbeats over the music, practically smell the liquor laced blood thundering through excited veins. He glimpsed at his watch, marking the time and raised the glass in a silent toast before taking a hefty sip. Here was to five-hundred years. Five hundred years since that night in old Mexica where his life had been stolen and his death denied.

It had been a long journey, of tragedies and wars, and loss. Eventually he had grown numb to it all, mortals did as they did, and eventually they slipped away and the next generation made the same mistakes. He had made mistakes, too. A frantic and young Fledgling who assumed he ruled and had quickly learned humility, of failed romances, of the fleeting fatherhood stolen by plague, of so many broken hearts. Even an Elder felt that kind of pain still. It was a blessing and a curse both, to be untouched by time, disease and death.

'What a nice surprise...' The scent of sweet perfume, the ghost of a hand across his shoulder, the beautiful vision in silken crimson cooed by his ear, her free hand clutching her bag tight.

'Another sweet night, my darling...?' Her voice was soft as silk in his ear, he merely took another sip from his glass, placing it back on the counter. If only the sheep knew there were now two wolves prowling incognito among them.

'Entertain yourself elsewhere, Christina, I am not in the mood for your games.' His response was curt, uncaring. Her charms would not work on him. Christina's smile was unfaltering, her icy blue eyes found his own inevitably. Once she had been a model, an actress of considerable skill, destined for stardom. Now she was barely half a century into her darker existence and had adapted far better than most. Miguel did not know who had Turned her, but the rare few who shared these streets with him knew one thing; this was his city, first and foremost.

'Aww, always a pleasure, sweetheart..' She purred with a playful wink, heels clicking on the floor as she weaved between the crowds, effortlessly drawing longing stares from man and woman alike, someone would find themselves going home with her tonight. Miguel shouldn't have looked, should have returned to his drink, but his eyes lingered as the crowds parted briefly, that was when he saw you.

High on life and booze, you had found yourself on the dancefloor, limbs twirling, uncaring for anything else as you and a friend lost all awareness for the outside world. It was only when the beautiful woman in red passed did you briefly falter, like the mere sight of her had hooked something into your skull. Then she passed by and the spell broke.

'You've got an admirer!' Your friend called out over the deafening thrum, and repeated themselves louder still as you held up a hand to your ear. You followed their pointing across the room to the bar; the tall, broad man sat half in shadow as if the light refused to cling to him, the feeling of hungry eyes upon you. Perhaps you'd get lucky tonight after all...

Miguel had drained the glass, uncaring for its burn down his throat and plotted his next move with patience. He could be very, very patient. You were aware of him, and he of you. He was content to wait, to see if you would make the next move. It would be so easy for him, just a touch of vampiric charm, a slight crook of a finger to beckon and you would be in his lap in moments, mind wrapped around his little finger. No. That would be far too easy.

He felt the atmosphere shift, something inside him bristled at the new presence; full of swagger, a young man had entered the club, dressed for a night out, for someone who desperately wanted attention. The eyes of every mortal on him, finding him irresistible. All Miguel saw was a troublesome Fledgling who needed to be put in their place.

He smothered the Fledgeling's charm with a strong arm across his shoulder, steering him away from the dancefloor- away from you, no sooner did they find a relatively quiet spot, did the troublesome new one find himself slammed against the wall with a hand at his throat.

'There are now three of us here. That is too much trouble to keep quiet. I also do not appreciate you so brazenly strutting in like a preening rooster, there is an art in charm and seduction that you wield with all the grace of a sledgehammer.'

The Fledgeling hissed at him, fangs bared, trying to amp up his intimidation through vampiric willpower. It was almost cute. Still easily keeping him pinned, Miguel stepped closer and returned the favour, fangs bared in a snarl, eyes ablaze crimson, letting the newly Turned vampire feel the full weight of an Elder's presence. He briefly relished the fear that followed realisation in those eyes, watched how he tried to shrink into himself, knees trembling.

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry..!' His blubbering was an inelegant as his charms had been.

'Get. Out. Do not make me regret what mercy I show you now...' He kept his voice low, but those sensitive ears would pick it up all the same. Miguel could just as easily break a man's mind as his body. Satisfied that the message had been received, he released his crushing grip, and watched the terrified Fledgeling hurry to the exit, sparing horrified glances over his shoulder. He blinked, eyes losing their furious crimson lustre as he scoured the crowds once more, ensuring you were still there.

'So many hot people here tonight, god!' Your friend called out, but you did not look, barely paying attention, eyes firmly on the man who regarded you still; tall, broad, stylish, and looking right back at you. When did it get so hot in here? He took his hands from his coat pockets, glancing at his watch before giving you a charming smile and beckoning softly with one curled finger.

You would come to him, he had almost grown fond of you. He would look after you, keep you safe from the hungry Fledgelings. Tonight, you knew you had gotten lucky. Little did you know you would feel the bliss of his aching kiss.

Part 2