Iridescent Witch

“bendígame, padre, porque he pecado.”

that soft, tender voice of yours always sends a shiver down his spine. the kind of shiver that travels down to his core, which tends to throb within seconds. that familiar tension in his throat develops and miguel tries to swallow it down, recomposing himself to listen for what wicked desires you carry in your mind. despite that miguel already knows what your desires are yet still leaves him a nervous wreck. the small capacity of the confession box didn’t ease the anticipation flowing through his veins. with his black attire and long sleeves, it only fuels the heat radiating throughout miguel’s entire body and producing more sweat trailing down his neck and face.

“i’ve been having… impure thoughts of a certain man.” you start softly, but there is a tinge of seduction that lingers in the back of your tongue that makes miguel inhale a deep breath.

“w-what—” he anxiously clears his throat, trying to contain himself while feeling on edge. “what kind of impure thoughts you’d have?”

that damn soft giggle from the other side of the confession box makes his core twitch underneath his trousers that miguel bit his lips to prevent a groan. damn you and those cute noises you make. how can such simple noise can make him fall apart?

“thoughts of… his big, calloused hands roaming all over my body.” you start slowly and you can hear the sharp breath miguel takes from the other side, cussing you to smile. “starting with my shoulders, slowly down to my breasts…” you hear a light groan this time. “my waist, hips, in between my legs.”

“mierda…” miguel groans softly, imagining your exact thoughts of his hands roaming over your body like he hasn’t done it a million times before.

“one of his hands slips underneath my skirt and slowly move towards my inner thighs…”

miguel’s hands flex at his sides as if their primal instincts were to touch you. flashbacks of those late nights spent in his chambers, you laid out so prettily on his bed, releasing a chorus of the most beautiful melody his ears have ever heard, your pedicured nails digging into his muscular back leavings red scratch marks on his sun-kissed skin, bodies connected as one moving in harmony, two souls uniting as one. those haunting memories worsens the throbbing in his core, begging to be released from its confinements and be wrapped in your slick warmth.

“then what?” miguel is practically a sweating, boiling mess with the burning urge to storm out of the confession box and take you to his bed once again.

“then, his thick long fingers slip inside me,” you slowly trance your hand over the hem of your black polka dot midi skirt. a smile graces your lips when you hear another groan. “teasing me while leaving sweet kisses over my face and neck.”

fuck… miguel is gonna bust in his damn trousers inside the confession box if you keep talking like that.

“what other thoughts possess you?” the poor priest dares to ask, desperate to know more of your desires so he can fulfill them afterwards.

the tinge of huskiness in miguel’s tone causes a pleasant tingle down in your throbbing core, rubbing your thighs together for friction to ease the tension. but instead of answering his question, you lean towards the wall right beside him whispering.

“come seek answers personally then, father.”

his last ounce of self-resistance vanished.

the next thing you know, you’re being led to the altar by father o'hara, who has a light yet firm grip on your hand which is due to the unresolved sexual frustration thanks to yours truly. you adore the power have over him, a man devoted to god but worships you like you are one, a goddess. not much angel since you’re committing the biggest sin, infidelity.

yes, you’ve been having an affair with the priest who is officiating your wedding in three weeks. it wasn’t meant to happen but the moment you saw those gorgeous scarlet orbs, your heart did something that your fiancé hasn’t accomplished before. which is a terrible thing to admit how the man you’re supposedly engaged to and been together for four years. frankie morales, a retired air force pilot with a troubled past of drug addiction but recovered over time. he is a sweet and respectful man, that is what made you fall in love with him. but encountering the priest who appears to claim the handsomeness of the devil forever altered your brain chemistry. awaken feelings you never truly experienced with frankie, to shamelessly admit.

the amount of guilt you feel for cheating on frankie has been consuming for a month but miguel’s cock strips those ugly feelings away. frankie is actually fantastic in bed, knows how to make you feel good, made your pleasure his main priority. there was never a time he didn’t make you come. whether it was his cock, mouth, or fingers, frankie always made you come undone. but with miguel… it’s different, unexplainably different. yes he is a bit thicker than your fiancé but that isn’t the only reason for the difference. the sweet, filthy words he would whisper into your ear while ravishing you in impeccable ways, making you tremble. how a man of god possesses a sinful tongue and make you see heaven by his own doing. maybe it’s because the relationship is forbidden, an affair. sleeping with the priest that everyone in town adores is definitely a taboo subject, nevertheless the one officiating your wedding.

no matter how hard you tried burning those sinful, explicit thoughts of father o'hara, you never succeeded and only conjured up more. tossing and turning in your bed as the handsome priest invades your dreams while your fiancé slept beside you. you gave into temptation when you visited father o'hara one night and discovered the shocking truth that he harbored the same feelings for you as well. that was when he bent you over the altar and took you from behind, making you see god himself. sex was never the same for you since because you knew no one, not even frankie, would ever compare to miguel.

miguel was no better than you. the moment he saw those gorgeous eyes and the face of an angel, he knew he was fucked. especially when you are the bride of the wedding he was asked to officiate. the endless nights of asking god forgiveness for having desires for a taken, soon-to-be-married, woman. the endless tugging on his aching cock while lying in bed with explicit images of you in his head. biting his lips to conceal the sinful moans and groans as his hand continued tugging on his manhood. then, suddenly spurt thick ropes of semen on the white bedsheets that miguel quickly cleans up afterwards before getting on knees at the edge of the bed begging forgiveness. he held so much self-loathing, even to present day, for claiming to be a man of god while committing to the role of the biggest sinner.

you, a woman of faith, and miguel, a man of god.

oh how perfect, like god intended.

a sinful grin graces your lips as miguel leads you to the same altar where you both committed the most heinous sins in the house of god. memories of those late nights flood your mind, bringing a tingling sensation down to your throbbing core. you expected to be bent over the altar but instead miguel hoists you onto the surface and immediately stands in between your already spread legs. his actions surprise you a bit but you know what his plans are for you and you can’t help but smile in anticipation.

“do you any the slightest idea of what you do to me?” he whispers into your ear, voice laced with a husky seduction mixed with irritation. calloused hands firmly planted on your hips, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your black polka dot midi skirt.

“oh i do, father.” you hear him inhale another sharp breath as you lean into his neck, planting a soft kiss underneath his jaw. “i turn you, a man of god, into the biggest sinner and you…” you decide to be bold and slowly run your tongue along his jawline, causing his grip on your hips to tighten. “love it.”

that was his last fucking straw.

a squeeze erupts from your throat when a firm hand on your stomach gently yet firmly pushes you at on your back against the surface of the altar. miguel quickly descended to his knees, calloused hands shoving your legs apart to swiftly yank your panties off, and place your legs over his bulky shoulders. you didn’t have a chance to utter a word other than a moan when you feel the familiar sensation of his lips suckling on your sensitive bundle of nerves. the back of your head hits the surface with a light thud as father o'hara ravishes you with his mouth.

“miguel!~” your sweet, angelic moans causes the man to groan against your pussy.

“me encanta cuando dices mi nombre.” miguel mutters while lapping at your weeping core, alternating between flicking his tongue at your sensitive clit and dipping it inside your pussy.

the intense pleasure miguel’s mouth was providing makes you tug harshly on those chocolate locks with both hands while rocking your hips against his tongue feverishly. “ay miguel, mas!”

as a man of his word, miguel complies with swirling his tongue over your precious pearl and dips two thick fingers into your needy cunt, eliciting a heavenly moan that makes his cock twitch painfully. his free hand travels up to cup one breast and kneads the squishy fat through your pink blouse. the additional sensation makes you moan louder and arch your back against the hard surface, but you need him more. with one hand, you guide the hand on your breast underneath your blouse to grope your through your white lacy bra instead. miguel’s fingers drag over the lacy fabric before squeezing your tit, causing you to lean into his addictive touch while losing your mind to his mouth and fingers below.

while eating you like a man deprived of food, guilt clouds his mind. how dare you make him act like this, commit such heinous sins when he’s supposed to be a man devoted to god. how dare he succumb to your pleads and let your presence consume him whole, possessing him like a spirit. no matter how many times miguel has gotten on his knees to seek forgiveness, he always ends up on his knee eating out the most perfect pussy to exist instead. despite devoting his life to god, he is a man after all with intense needs and desires. how coincidental you appeared in his life when he began seeking passion. if you weren’t engaged or nevertheless taken by another man, miguel wouldn’t have felt the shame he does when he’s with you or thinks of you. if only you were single but god has tested him.

“does he make you feel this good, hm?” miguel hums against your sensitive folds, those scarlet orbs glancing up at your blissful face. “are his fingers long enough to reach that sweet spot inside, querida?” right on queue, his two fingers indeed find that exact spot and curled, eliciting a loud moan from you. “contéstame.” he gives your pussy a light tap.

“n-no! he doesn’t!” you groan frustratingly, brows furrowed in both pleasure and frustration.

another shameful truth. frankie’s fingers are less thicker and a bit shorter than miguel’s but he still managed to reach that sweet spot. however not as deep as miguel does, that’s the difference. basically, frankie can do it all but miguel does it better.

“ah, miguel!~ asi, asi!” you chant as his fingers continue pumping into you in a perfect pace that triggers the familiar warm tension in your core.

miguel complies to your wishes by increasing the pace of his fingers pumping into you and suckling on your sensitive clit simultaneously. that warm sensation in your lower belly coils quickly and suddenly your vision goes white, as if seeing the beautiful clouds of heaven. the moan you release echos throughout the church, a symphony of ecstasy that was much more beautiful than the church choir that miguel listens to every mass. a symphony he would want to hear for the rest of his life. your sensitivity kicks in as miguel continues ravishing your overstimulated pussy, lapping all of your sweet nectar. softly whimpering at the overstimulation as your legs spasm around his head.

finally, he releases your sensitive cunt with a nasty pop and stands back up on his feet, standing in between your legs once again. looking up at him through fluttering lashes while catching your breath, you see his mouth and chin decorated in your cum. while your mind is still mushy from the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave you, you were tempted to wipe off your cum off his face and make him lick it off your finger. but miguel already wipes it off with the back of his hand, a move that he knows you love. he leans down to give you a sweet, loving kiss on the lips before whispering, tasting yourself.

his calloused hands travel down to your hips and turn you around so your back is against his chest. you get the memo and bend over the altar, a position you’ve been in many times on this exact spot. you feel one of his hands lifting up your skirt while the other undos his belt to finally release his aching cock. your own rest on the surface, preparing for the best fucking of your life. sliding your panties to the side, miguel doesn’t waste time sliding into your slick warmth, causing both of you to moan unison.

“ay chingado…” miguel curses in a whisper as his cock continues slipping through your folds until the tip reaches perfectly against your cervix. a groan falls from his lips when you clench around him.

when he doesn’t start moving, you let out an inpatient whine and move your hips a little as emphasis. “mueveté, miguel~”

“espera,” another groan interprets him mid-sentence, praying to god to not come undone right then and there without even fucking you first. “pinche madre… siempre mojada.”

“ya, miguel!”

so damn fucking bossy, but miguel would be a liar if he didn’t admit how much it turns him on.

by slowing moving his hips, miguel begins with slow thrusts, softly groaning at how dangerous yet perfectly you clean around him with each thrust. soft moans and whimpers fall from your lips as you throw your head back in pleasure, relishing the way miguel’s cock fills you up so perfectly. while taking you from behind, miguel looks up at the statue of la virgen de guadalupe as if she’s looking down at him and the sin he’s committing in front of the holy mother. waves of guilt and shame courses through his veins. how dare he commit such vile acts in front of the holy mother. please forgive him.

the overwhelming shame makes him look away and focus back on nicely fucking you. one of his hands keep a firm grip on your left hip while the other interlocks with your right hand above your head as miguel leans over you until his chest rests against your back. his moans and groans perfectly against your ear, pure music to you. it causes you to turn to capture his lips with yours in a kiss, which he accepts by reciprocating, while making love on the altar. it was going good until miguel abruptly pulls himself out of you, leaving you utterly confused.

“miguel, what— oh!”

he swiftly spins you around and lays you back down on the surface, back to your old position from earlier. you don’t get the chance to question his motives when his calloused hands find the buttons on your blouse and suddenly rips it wide open, sending the buttons flying everywhere and exposing that pretty white lacy bra to miguel’s hungry eyes. the sudden movement makes you gasp with a frown.

“chingado, miguel! that was my favorite blouse!”

you make an attempt to slap him on the chest but the action hardly phased him. those crimson orbs are too focused on the pretty white lace covering those delicate breast underneath, begging for his attention.

miguel softly chuckles at your feisty attitude. “shhh, querida. i’ll buy you another one.”

his suggestion makes your eyes rolls. you expect him to start playing with your breasts but instead he rips off your bra in the middle just like your blouse, shredding off the lacy fabric off your body in an instant and making you gasp for a second time. his pupils dilate the moment miguel sees those beautiful mounds and perky nipples exposed in the cold air. his gaze linger on them a little moment longer before grabbing the gold bowl of holy water and slowly pour it over your tits. the warm, foreign sensation elicits another gasp from you before transforming into a moan when miguel gently rubs it over your tits, causing you to arch your chest into his touch. this is certainly a new thing but you ain’t complaining.

perhaps the devil possessed him in that moment because miguel isn’t sure what provoked him to do such a thing. but observing the way the water makes your skin glisten so beautifully under the light shining through the color stain glass. the sight evokes an intense, primal craving inside his chest that consumes him entirely. miguel doesn’t waste a second to bend down and lick the holy water from your breasts in a feverish manner, making you moan loudly and arch into his greedy mouth.

“miguel!~” you swiftly grip onto his hair, digging your fingers through those soft chocolate locks while endless moans fall from your lips.

miguel’s tongue runs over the swell of your breasts, collecting the water like a man deprived of thirst, before twirling it around your nipple. he alternates between both tits, preforming the same actions and providing them the attention they deserve. those pretty sounds of yours are his reward for pleasing you so well. miguel has never admitted to you before but he adores how sensitive you are, no matter how many times you’ve slept together. you completely come undone by his touch and his touch only. that fuels both his ego and shame, but the latter wins. once the water is completely licked off from your chest, miguel’s find your own and capture them in a passionate kiss, which you reciprocate.

“you should do that more often.” you admit softly against his lips, a grin tugging on your face.

that damn mischief glint on your eyes. it always makes miguel almost crumble to his knees and worship you for eternity, his own goddess.

“ven aquí.” miguel grumbles before pulling you towards him by the hips to press your crotch against his, eliciting a pretty little soft gasp from you.

once he makes sure you were ready for him again, miguel reenters your slick cunt a bit smoother. this time, you’re on your back so he can finally see your angelic face properly while pounding you into oblivion. miguel’s thrusts begins slow but soon pick up speed until his thighs are slapping against the back of yours and his balls smacking your rear. such sinful sounds echoing through a place considered the house of god yet neither of you cared. the pleasure was consuming you both to pay attention to the sins you and miguel are committing.

“bésame.” you whine, looking up at your handsome lover through teary, fluttering eyes.

father o'hara had resisted many temptations before but can never with you. only you are his exception, but miguel is to blame for making you the exception.

so, he obliged by bending down and capture your lips in a passionate kiss while thrusting into you. the chorus of moans muffled by each other’s lips, swallowing them instead. you take the opportunity to comb your fingers through his hair as your lips remain locked together and your love-making progresses. miguel almost falters for a moment because you playing with his hair makes him dizzy, in a positive way. how addictively nice your nails feeling combing through his chocolate locks, making him putty in your grasp like always. only your touch can bring miguel down to his knees and melt like a puddle, his heartstrings being pulled by your delicate fingers. oh the power you have over him.

“puta madre.” miguel’s lips break away from yours as a groan slips out, throwing his head back when your walls flutter around him like a fucking vice.

“i-i’m close, miguel~”

yeah, he can fucking feel it by how your pussy is literally choking the fucking life out of him. miguel can feel the tension in his balls preparing the load to give you, the essence of his forbidden love for you.

“damélo, preciosa.”

fuck, that really did it for you.

miguel slips a hand between you down to give a few rubs on your sensitive clit, eliciting a pretty mewl from you. those mahogany eyes admire your pretty, squirming form and angelic face contorted in pure ecstasy, miguel’s most favorite sight. with several more rubs to your precious pearl and his cock hitting your sweet spot, you cum with probably the loudest moan, almost like a fucking scream, and it echos throughout the church. mouth dropped open releasing the most beautiful melody miguel has heard and back arched off the surface of the altar.

“asi, preciosa~” miguel praises, admiring your blissful state like the angel you are.

his hips soon begin to stutter, groaning as miguel senses his high before cumming into the depths of your womb. spurting his forbidden love for you. it was more than usual, perhaps you really pushed miguel over the edge this time. you can feel the difference, feeling more full than usual but you aren’t complaining because you adore the sensation. you wish to be wrapped around him, figuratively and literally, all the time but unfortunately it’s not possible. once every ounce is drained from him, miguel carefully pulls himself out from your now extremely overwhelmed cunt, earning a soft whimper from you. pupils dilated at the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy, the creamy white essence dripping down onto the surface. a sight he never grows tired of and always replay in his mind.

but the sight also fuels the guilt and shame that has been consuming him for weeks. feeding that guilt demon inside him, eating away his heart in fragments in such a slow, painful manner. to see his own cum spilling from a taken, soon-to-be-married, woman whose husband trusted him to officiate the wedding, a good man and that twists something inside miguel. he has been sleeping with another man’s fiancée, bride, and soon-to-be wife. the guilt kills him slowly that’s so unbearable, miguel isn’t sure how long he can endure it any longer.

god, forgive him.

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓. . .

it’s the night before your wedding day and miguel feels anxious about it. tomorrow will be the day your are no longer his and he not yours, you’ll forever be frankie’s love and that leaves a major strain on his fragile heart. miguel won’t have you anymore, keep his bed warm, have meaningful conversations and share secrets with you, just to have your warmth in the cold atmosphere of the church where he feels lonely all the time. all of that will vanished into thin air the moment he pronounces you and frankie as husband and wife at the same altar where he had taken you and reached true pleasure.

but the real reason miguel has been feeling anxious is because you haven’t visited him for the past three weeks, since the night in the confession box. your angelic presence hasn’t stepped through the wooden doors since and miguel grew worried. he tried calling you but you never answered and always went to voicemail. left text messages that were never read and answered. tried coaxing answers from family members and neighbors without being suspicious but no one could’ve provided proper answers, which only fueled his concern. if he truly could, miguel wouldn’t hesitate to haul ass to your apartment and check up on you himself. but that would put your forbidden relationship at risk and he couldn’t risk you. miguel wouldn’t care of losing his position as priest, you were, still are, his main priority.

the worry only worsened over time. no communication from you left him slightly losing him mind and begged god to ensure you were safe. every morning mass, miguel would mask his worries and proceed doing his tasks, but you continue lingering in his back while serving bread and wine to members. during the day, miguel was the faithful priest everyone knew. but at night, miguel was a concerned man for the woman he loved. yes, miguel fell in love with you, a shameful truth that he’s been trying to deny for a while but ultimately admitted it was true. no other woman had captured his heart and soul, whatever magic you possessed managed to do that. miguel was in love with a taken woman. a woman who he deeply cared for and worried for.

it was another late night, brief storm passing by, winds howling that cause the trees to shake. the warm lightening of the candles provide a sense a of comfort as miguel did some final touches in preparation for the wedding tomorrow, a day he’s been dreading for a while but even more now. the only hope still lingering in his fragile heart is the high possibility of seeing you after a period of silence. but he will see you in a wedding dress walking down the aisle to begin a chapter of your life with your husband. the thought makes miguel’s heart ache.

the creaking of the wooden front doors opening snaps miguel out of thought and turn around to find you, alive and well, entering the church. he swore he felt his heart soar in relief and mentally thanked god that you were okay. his feet are already carrying him directly towards you, walking down the aisle with concern illustrated on his sun-kissed face.

“what happened to you? i’ve been trying to reach you but you ignored my calls and messages…”

his words died down as miguel approaches closer until he is directly in front of you and notices the distress illustrated on your angelic face. the sight makes his brows furrowed in concern.

“¿qué paso?” miguel asks concerningly.

his eyes remain on you but yours refuse to do the same and instead look anywhere but him. like you’re afraid to make eye contact with him and that makes miguel more concerned and confused. but miguel doesn’t push you for an answer and remains patient to allow you to find your words without pressure. his eyes moved down at your outfit. a white coat concealing your clothes underneath and a pair of matching kitten heals. bits of your hair is damped due to the rain, giving him the impression that you walked your way here and tried to cover yourself with your coat presumably over your head since there was no hoddie attached. still beautiful as ever.

but then miguel also realizes this is the first time he’s seen you in three weeks. there are so many questions on the top of his tongue that he wishes to blurt out and release his worries but miguel knew that wasn’t the smartest decision. he takes note of your slightly shivering form and swiftly yet gently wraps an around you and guide you further into the church.

“tienes frío, ven.”

you let miguel guide you towards the candles for warmth. although you weren’t that cold, you do appreciate his kindness by flashing a small smile at him, which pulled his heartstrings.

he pulls up a chair. “siéntate.”

you shake your head. “no, it’s okay, thank you.”

his frown deepens a little. “preciosa, por favor—”

“i’m fine, miguel.” you softly cut him off.

a strange tension blossoms between you two. the kind of tension that hasn’t really been felt since the beginning of your affair, the moment you first met. but it felt more… tense, uneasy anticipation. miguel can sense it in his chest and he doesn’t like it because that means something happened. so, miguel decides to bite the fucking bullet.

“why did you disappear?”

there was no anger or frustration in his tone, but rather concern. genuine concern.

the question makes you wince, miguel noticed and grew more concern. he takes note of your body language, eyes scanning your form. arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re trying to provide yourself comfort. head lower a bit to avoid his gaze and tensed shoulders. a sad frown settled upon on your features and lips formed in a slight pout. the sight makes his heart ache and miguel wants nothing more than to comfort you and pull you into his arms.

for a split second, miguel’s mind conjured up a possible reason that frankie had did something to you or at least was responsible for the distress you entered in with. did he do something? did he hurt you? the deeper he thought, miguel’s blood began to boil in anger. he swears, regardless if he’s a priest, if that asshole hurt you in some way then miguel is going to commit the worse sin of all. a much worse sin than sleeping with a taken woman.

“did frankie do something? did he hurt you? i swear, ese pinche cabrón—”

“no!” you quickly reassure him, unfolding your arms to place your hands on top of his. looking up at him with wide eyes. “no, he don’t hurt me.” you watch his frown deepen. “i promise, i’m fine.”

well, that’s a lie but for a completely different reason.

frankie never, ever hurt you. that is a fact. he knew hurting women is absolutely wrong and believed men who do aren’t real men but rather pieces of shit.

“then, what?” miguel inquires.

a sad sigh escapes your lips as you turn away and miguel has half the mind to pull you back to him. you inhale a deep breath to prepare yourself to reveal the true reason you disappeared. exhaling that deep breath, you slowly turn to look back at him with a racing heart and anxiety flowing through your veins.

“i’m pregnant.”

suddenly, the whole world fucking stops.

everything just freezes. a large, unbearable silence stretches between you two.

miguel felt his heart suddenly dropped to his fucking stomach, his soul abandoned his body. his tall, bulking form utterly frozen in time. chestnut eyes blown wide, the color from his face drained in an instant, and unable to breathe. all the emotions completely abandoning him immediately.

“¿qué?…”

you feel your chest tightening and anxiety consuming your body at his horrid expression.

“i’m pregnant,” you confess again a bit louder but still soft, voice a bit shaky due to the anxiety invading your veins. “it’s yours, i haven’t slept with frankie since i’ve been with you…” you added.

miguel’s heart stopped beating for a moment, like blood stopped flowing through his veins in an instant. like frozen in time. it also causes his breathing to pause, as if he forgot how to. in that moment, everything became silent and blurry to him. standing there with tons of emotions throw at him like bombs and collapsing inside his head.

oh how could he be so foolish?

sleeping with you for various nights, it was only a matter of time before the consequences caught up. you often used protection to prevent this exact situation but that one night, the last time he saw you before disappearing, miguel made the mistake of discarding protection and spill into you raw. oh how foolish he was for not thinking properly and taking responsibility. the least miguel could’ve done was pull out but lust consumed his mind in that moment so of course no proper thought was there when he was fucking you on the altar. now you’re painted with his seed, a small fragment that will grow inside the warmth and safety of your womb, his heir.

a child, one that’ll possess several of his characteristics while living life with their mother and a man who isn’t their biological father.

the thought makes miguel’s heart ache immensely. one, for the mistake of sleeping with a taken woman. two, for getting that said woman pregnant with his illegitimate child. three, for that child to grow up with their mother and a man who isn’t their biological father. miguel felt overwhelmed with guilt, shame, and anger. not at anyone but himself.

this is god’s punishment for his sins. now, miguel has to suffer the consequences of his foolish actions.

his silence only fuels the anxiety consuming your mind and body. miguel’s reaction was expected since this is earth-shattering news. the lack of color on his face and pure silence are sufficient evidence.

“i don’t expect anything from you.” your choice of words makes his eyes snap up at yours with shock but you continue on. “i knew what i was doing spending time with you and it was only a matter of time until the consequences would show up. i’m taking responsibility for my part on this—”

“espera—” miguel cuts you off, stepping closer towards you with a expression mixed with concern and shock. “perdóname pero… are you…”

“sí…” you confess. “i’m keeping the baby.”

an uncomfortable tension rests on his throat and chest, making it difficult for miguel to breath. although he partakes in catholicism, miguel believes in women making choices for their bodies and health. he despises men who oppose abortion and women’s healthcare rights. no soul should order a woman what she should do with her body other than herself. you made the choice of keeping the baby and miguel respects that. although, it only fuels the fear that has been tearing him apart since you revealed the news.

miguel is unsure of how to respond in the moment and could only offer a silent nod. he wasn’t upset with your decision, no absolutely not. it was yours regardless and he respects it indefinitely. it’s the fear of having a child who originates from an affair and putting you in this position. the self-loathing has never reached its peak than ever before.

you take his lack of response as an answer and proceed to say, “like i said before, i don’t expect anything from you. i’ll just… figure something out with frankie, maybe make up a story or—”

“what you do mean you don’t expect anything from me?” miguel proceeds to step forward until he’s directly in front of you, towering you as you crane your neck up just to meet his concerned gaze. “i’d like to help since i…” he releases a heavy, disappointed sigh. “since i put you in this position.”

you shake your head. “no it’s okay, miguel. i don’t wanna jeopardize your position here. i just wanted to come here and let you know—”

“me vale. i put you in this, let me help you.”

“no, miguel.”

“¿por qué? es mi bebé, debería ayudarte—”

“¡miguel, por favor!”

your yelling echos through the walls of the church. miguel’s lips immediately close into a thin line, afraid of making you more frustrated if he chooses to speak. so, he instead shuts up with a worried look.

“you can’t, we can’t…” a very faint voice crack escapes mid-sentence, causing the same affect to miguel’s heart. “we can’t risk it.” the guilt was too much that you couldn’t look him in the eye any longer. “we can’t risk each other’s lives, at least not anymore with this…” you place a hand over your lower abdomen and miguel’s eyes follow, heart aching at the sight. “we can’t risk them.”

those thick eyebrows furrowed as miguel’s eyes linger on your belly where his unborn child rests comfortably barely developing inside.

his child.

that makes his mind dizzy.

“then what do you want me to do? not help you? take care of you?” besides the devastating news of having a secret affair child, miguel is more upset with your choice of insisting him to not help with this issue.

“yes because it’s not your responsibility.”

miguel’s mouth was agape in pure disbelief. “it is my responsibility. i put you in this—”

“enough, miguel!” you cut him off, sternly, and the man is shocked but remains quiet. “you’re not doing to do anything because none of this happened.”

miguel’s expression transforms from frustration into pure confusion and disbelief. jaw slacked, slump shoulders, eyes widen, corner of his lips turning downward, frowning. miguel couldn’t believe what you were saying. none of this never happened? these past weeks meant nothing to you? he meant nothing to you? you are gonna pretend it was all for nothing? pretend he was nothing? miguel can’t deny the ache in his heart to hear those hurtful words from you, the woman he has grown to love deeply.

it hurt miguel, creating a wound in his heart.

“none of this never happened? are you serious?” he can’t help but feel a bit more frustrated. “how can you pretend none of this ever happened and expect me to do nothing about it?!” the boiling frustration causes his voice to escalate, causing you to step back not out of fear but of annoyance.

“because tomorrow you’ll officiate my wedding, frankie and i will be married, and we go our separate ways without speaking to each other.”

miguel simply stares down at you with wide eyes of pure disbelief. how can you even pretend that everything will be fine while carrying one of the most difficult secrets? how can you ask if him to allow this to continue on as if nothing ever happened and all is fine? how can you ever think miguel would be okay with this inane decision? all of these questions are at the tip of tongue but nothing comes out his mouth.

“i’ll be married, have and raise this baby with my husband as a true family, that’s final.” you spoke firmly. “there’s nothing else we could do but go on without anyone getting hurt.”

miguel can’t believe what you’re saying.

‘without anyone getting hurt?’

he feels the hurt tearing apart his heart and miguel best believes you’re experiencing that pain too by making this extremely difficult decision.

no further words escape his lips because miguel isn’t sure of what else to say. the man is utterly speechless, drowning in pure disbelief by this new revelation. a revelation that is tearing him apart more than the devil or a demon could ever do.

how can miguel accept this?

leave you and his unborn child to live life without him? not be able to raise his child and guide them in this strange, chaotic world? not be there for you both if case either of you needs him? to have a child that will never know of their biological father?

the anxiety flowing through his veins increases as the thoughts consumed his mind. all overwhelming that miguel had to turn away for a moment to tame his heavy breathing and not faint. head lowered, hands on hips, chest heaving, eyes screwed shut to conceal the bits of tears gradually forming inside. this is the most difficult, painful decision he has to make in his life and miguel isn’t sure if he can live with it. this is indeed god’s way of punishment for committing vile sins and miguel has to live with that burden. a much worse punishment than making a deal with the devil.

you take miguel’s silence for his way of processing this life-altering information and you can’t blame him for his reaction. this decision is also painful for you. not only you’re pregnant with another man’s child but you have to give up the man you’ve grown to love to secure your unborn child’s future. yes, you’ve fallen for the handsome priest. not even the devil could’ve made you fall for him the way miguel did. how unfaithful of you to fall for another man while having a whole fiancé by your side and about to become your husband tomorrow. a consequence that you will have to pay for your sins. a painful one but you’ll do anything to protect your unborn child.

so, you decide to take a few cautious steps towards miguel, whose back is still facing you. “miguel…” you whisper to not startle him as you slowly approach until you’re a few inches away from him. unsure if you should’ve move closer. “i know it’s… the most difficult decision to make and i don’t blame you for being angry, especially at me for coming to you with this and choose an impossible decision.” you eyes glance down at one of miguel’s hands rested on his hip and felt tempted to reach out but you don’t.

miguel remains silent, still processing the information and emotions tumbling in his mind, but he can, as if, sense you behind him. he isn’t angry at you for coming to this conclusion, miguel can never be angry at you. it’s himself who he’s angry with for not being careful like he should’ve when the affair began, yet his mind was consumed with other priorities. his heart flutter when he feels your gentle fingers touching his, causing miguel to look over his bulky shoulder and see your angelic face beside him. the man almost crumbled onto his knees by the look of guilt illustrated on your beautiful face that miguel so desperately wanted to kiss away but resisted.

“i know a ‘sorry’ won’t make a difference but… please know that i’m feeling what you’re feeling.” a single tear escapes your right eye and slowly trails down your face until it’s gently wiped away by miguel’s finger, making your heart flutter. “i know i’m taking away an opportunity from you… i just—”

miguel gently cuts you off by placing his large, calloused hands on your shoulders. “i understand your decision, mi alma. i’m not angry, at you but myself for putting you in a position that comes with a difficult choice.” he spoke sincerely, those mahogany eyes are a reflection of that. “it’s just…” a heavy, disappointed sigh escapes his lips because the words suddenly disappear on the tip of his tongue.

silence blossoms between you and miguel. not necessarily uncomfortable but a bit painful. the beating of two broken hearts, shattered like red stained glass scattered across the floor. no amount of prayers or angels can rebuild both your damaged hearts from this sorrowful situation. you and miguel remain standing in each other’s arms, drowning yourselves in painful silence. his calloused hands remain on your shoulders, keeping you close to him in fear of you pulling away. having you close and in his arms is the only thing keeping him sane while navigating a life-altering moment, like you’re his anchor. the one maintaining his heartbeat from leaping out of his chest when miguel experiences anxiety. the one who causes all of his worries to vanish instantly the moment you’re in his presence.

but it seems miguel would lose all of that now.

your eyes glance past his towering form at the grandfather clock in the far corner and read that it’s past nine. it was time to return home before frankie gets off from work or suspicion will rise for why his fiancée is not home yet. much to miguel’s dismay, you slowly break away from his hold, eyes casted down at the floor but notice the way his hands try to reach out for you but retract themselves.

“it’s getting late, frankie will be home soon.” without a final glance at him, you begin walking away but you sense miguel right on your tail.

“wait—” the upset priest reaches out to stop you by gently grabbing your upper arm, causing you to stop and turn to face him with a surprised look. “the storm hasn’t passed yet, it’s not safe.”

“i heard the rain and wind calmed down, i’ll be fine. my car is parked right outside—”

“ni modo,” miguel shakes his head with a frown. “it’s cold and pouring, i don’t want you or the baby getting sick.” his own words surprise him by referring to his child as miguel’s eyes descended upon your belly, despite no bump yet. you seem to have the same reaction but he continues on. “you know you have a place here, at least until the storm passes—”

“no, miguel.” you’re the one to shake your head this, growing a bit agitated by his persistence. “i can’t stay here any longer than i have to. if i’m not back by the time frankie gets home, he’ll get suspicious and that is the last thing either of us want.”

“mi alma, por favor—”

“no, miguel!”

your yelling echoes throughout the church, bouncing off the holy walls, as you yank yourself off his hold and take a few steps back. miguel winces at your raised voice, like a child being reprimanded, and solely stares at you with a sorrowful expression.

“it’s over, miguel.” you confess, as painful as it is and you can see the hurt in those mahogany eyes you’ve grown to adore. “there’s nothing we can do rather than just… move on.” a little voice crack at the end.

miguel can’t move on. how can you say that? perhaps the selfish side of him is consuming him in this moment but miguel truly doesn’t want to let you go because he loves you. falling in with a taken woman isn’t the most ideal thing to do but there is no denial of his affection for you in his heart. no other woman throughout his lifetime has ever made such an impact on him and made him feel those feelings the way you did. now, you’ve come to him to tell him you’re pregnant with his child and have to break your secret relationship the night before your wedding. how can he deal with this overwhelming information and have to make the most painful decision in his life? letting go the woman he loves to protect her and their unborn child. the guilt was torturing him.

you can see the wave of painful emotions illustrated on miguel’s face and it breaks your heart. you can’t bare it, yet you’re the cause. “i’m sorry, miguel…”

your words were so little yet painful that it would never repair his broken heart.

with a final heartbreaking glance at him, you slowly begin walking away. the soft clicking of your heels bounces of the walls as you head towards the front wooden doors. miguel’s watches you leave with sorrowful eyes, utterly heart broken. he wants nothing more to run up to you and beg you to stay with him, but ultimately he can’t and it only breaks him more. once you reach the front doors, you pause for a moment as if you wanted to say something else. miguel’s body freezes in anticipation, wondering if you’ve changed your mind and stay with him. but you don’t turn around or say anything, much to miguel’s dismay. instead, you open the door with a heavy, sad sigh and leave in silence. leaving the poor priest to drown himself in heartbreak alone.

the moment you walk out and wooden door closes behind you, the church reverts back to the coldness miguel always felt. especially when he is alone. the only time the church felt warm was with you. only your presence could warm up the cold, lonely atmosphere of church he’d spent days in. miguel was heavily convinced were you indeed an angel. he swore he saw a warm glow radiating around you, shining bright and ethereally like a star. he felt it the day he first met you and craved it ever since. it’s as if miguel can’t live without your warmth, how it provided him a sense of comfort. a smoothing feeling that he never wanted to let go.

but now he has to and makes his heart ache.

now miguel has to revert back to that usual cold and emptiness that became so familiar to him, a feeling he hates with a burning passion. it will never feel the same without you and your warmth. he even considers not even staying at the church anymore and he can’t bare the coldness and isolation like before, not before you. with you walking away from his life, the light has vanished and is replaced with an empty void, settling perfectly in his broken heart.

the lonely priest remains standing here with a broken heart, wanting to have the woman he loves to come back and have her in his arms. but only loneliness comes back and wraps around him a like painful hug, suffocating him as miguel struggles to accept his unfortunate fate. his own personal hell.

now he dreads for your wedding tomorrow.

dreadfulness invade his veins like a virus as father o'hara stands at the altar while your guests talk amongst themselves before the ceremony begins. hundreds of hushed voices travels throughout the church as they await your arrival. miguel recognizes your mother in the front row on the left side, sitting amongst your nina and tias. your siblings sit behind scattered with their own families as well as the rest of your relatives. one of the many things, or the main issue, that fuels the dreadfulness is the groom standing on miguel’s left. frankie seems to be a bit anxious by the way he constantly tugs on the collar of his dress shirt or fix his suit jacket. but the smile on his face is evidence that he is elastic about the happiest day of his life. miguel can’t help but feel envious of frankie, as selfish as it is. that man will have the honor of being married to you and spending the rest of his life with you. he will be gifted the honor of creating memories with you, not miguel and that stabs him directly in the fucking heart.

miguel isn’t sure if he can truly go through this wedding, arranging you to be married to another man. he almost decided to back out and assign another priest to preform the ceremony but miguel had to do his duty as priest. for once, he had to push aside his feelings and do what is needed to be done, regardless of how heartbroken he is. not only watching you marry another man is painful but also being pregnant with his child. miguel didn’t sleep well last night because of nightmares of you and your child living life without him consumed his mind. unfortunately, that nightmare is soon to come true and miguel is still not ready for it. in fact, the man is absolutely terrified to face the unfortunate reality.

a piano version of “here comes the bride” begins playing and causes miguel to snap out of those sad thoughts, placing his attention up ahead. the chitchatting immediately dies down and everyone turns in their seats facing the doors in the back eager for your arrival. the only one who feels the opposite is of course miguel. never has he felt so afraid in his 30 years of life. afraid to witness the woman he loves enter his church and walk down the aisle to married to a man that isn’t him and desperately wished so.

his anxiety spikes when the wooden doors open and sees you standing there with your father beside you. miguel’s jaw hangs slightly open in pure astonishment as you began walking down the aisle, drinking in your enthralling appearance. you look absolutely beautiful, mesmerizing in your wedding dress. the beautiful lace veil covering your angelic face. an angel descending from heaven and blessing everyone with your presence. the most precious angel. miguel swore he felt his heart leaping out his chest because your beauty is truly divine.

the priest was completely enthralled by your angelic beauty that he didn’t realize you were standing directly in front with of him. those gorgeous eyes that he admires so deeply looking up at him, two precious dazzling gems. miguel was so mesmerized by you that he almost forgot he was the priest for your wedding. thanks to the subtle glare you gave him, a look miguel is very familiar with, he finally recomposed himself and proceeds with the ceremony, much to miguel’s dismay.

while speaking throughout the ceremony, miguel is internally struggling to compose himself with the woman he loves standing there in a wedding dress that was not meant for him. that is a huge, gruesome stab to his already broken heart. he maintained his professionalism but deep down he was hurting. what hurts the most is watching you stare up at frankie with the same adoring look you once gave him from those late nights in miguel’s chambers. the little smile on those delicate lips that miguel misses so dearly and never wanted anything more than to feel them on his one last time. to feel the softness of them pressed against his rough, slightly chapped ones. but that possibility is forever gone.

but can you blame the man? the woman he loves stands right before him in a wedding dress and is destined to marry another man while his heart aches and yearns for a woman he can’t no longer have.

when it’s time for the rings, miguel actually looks away the moment frankie slips on the wedding ring on your ring, symbolizing your commitment to one person only. but it also symbolizes that you are no longer miguel’s and he not yours. another painful stab to the heart. miguel finally looks back once the rings were placed and he feels a ache in his chest at the sight of the pretty wing wrapped around your finger. it was getting real and he couldn’t accept it.

now, it was the moment he’s been dreading for…

miguel knew this was coming but he still couldn’t believe it was happening, you finally leaving him behind and fulfill a life with your husband. suddenly, his breathing becomes a bit difficult like something is compressing against his chest. his vision is a bit blurry and his heart rate increases, feeling the blood rushing through his veins. like the world is collapsing and he is losing control. miguel is a man of control but that ability is slipping through his fingers. for once, he can’t control his emotions because they’re controlling him. he’s losing you forever and miguel can’t grasp on that because he loves you. but he can’t love a married woman, god forbids it.

so, with a deep inhale he prepares to announce the final part of the ceremony. the part miguel has been dreading since the first night you stayed with him.

“by the power of god invested in me, i pronounce you husband and… wife.”

the gut-wrenching words left a bitter taste in his mouth and almost made him wince because this marked the beginning of the end. an end miguel has feared for so long and it unfortunately came true.

however, miguel can’t look away this time because he has to bare witness the signifying moment of yours and frankie’s marriage. his grip on the book tightens as he watches frankie gently guides you closer by the waist, an action miguel used to do frequently, and press his lips against yours, marking your first kiss as husband and wife. the sight makes his heart ache immensely. the audience cheers for you two while miguel was collapsing internally into a hell of heartbreak and torment. it worsens when you pull back from the kiss with a smile, beaming up at your husband. the same look you used to give miguel during those intimate moments together. the same smile that always made his knees weak. the same smile as the first thing he would see after waking up beside you in bed the morning after. the same smile that he won’t have the honor to see anymore.

as if it couldn’t get any worse, you don’t even look at him or sneak a glance anymore as you turn to face the cheering crowd. as if he doesn’t exist, which produces another stab to miguel’s heart. he just pronounced you married and you’re already ignoring him like you’ve forgotten his existence. it breaks his heart, making the pain more intense than it already was before. throughout the ceremony, you rarely acknowledged him with only a few glances but your eyes always remained off to the side or at frankie. but now more than ever, they will never land on him. it’s sufficient proof miguel has lost you completely.

it hurts even more as you and frankie descend from the stairs and walk down the aisle together as newlyweds, leaving miguel behind with a broken heart. he didn’t even follow you, only remain standing there with a hurt look in his eyes. watching you walk away to begin a new chapter of your life with your husband, all while carrying another man’s child in your womb. his own child, the one miguel will never get to meet and watch them grow. another man will take his place as their father and it kills him. not only did he lose you but also his unborn child, a family he will never get to have. that is the greatest consequence miguel will have to endure, the biggest yet hardest test god has given him. miguel knew this affair with you would eventually end with you getting married but it still hurt, even more with the baby.

those eyes filled with remorse watch you waltz through the aisle until you reach the large wooden doors. for a moment, you stop and miguel’s eyes widen just a smudge in hopes of you looking back at him one last time before you walk away from his completely. a spark of hope, a candle lit up. but that candle immediately burns out when you don’t turn to look back and instead continue walking through those wooden doors. miguel felt his heart drop, all the hope suddenly stripped from him and replaced with an everlasting sense of loneliness and hurt, as he watched you walk away from his life forever.

the guests follow you and frankie as you all exit the church, leaving behind the poor heartbroken priest at the altar. the same altar where he had you in his arms and display his affection for you. standing with pain his heart, miguel reminds standing there until the church was empty. the familiar lonely coldness that miguel hated returns, consuming the space of the church once again. all alone once again, a feeling he never despises so much because it all felt too familiar. now with you vanished from his life forever along with your unborn child, miguel has to succumb to that agonizing loneliness once again.

succumbed to his own personal hell.

૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა　　note　　♡　　i drew the priest outfit over miguel on picsart because i wanted to lol and this fic is inspired from “altars” by charli xcx because that song slaps　!