#Mafia!miguel o’hara

[diejager]

hiiiii! can i request a miguel x reader? miguel is a big shady business man (kinda like king pen) who owns a strip club and reader is one of the strippers who everyone knows not to mess with since she’s miguel’s girl. a guy starts sexually harassing reader and miguel kicks his ass and puts him in his place. if you’re cormfortable, i would like smut ❤️

Property Cw: smut, possessive behaviour, DUB-CON, worshipping, sex workers, strip club, pimp, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, marking, stripper/sex worker!reader, tell me if I missed any.

Despite the place being a strip club - one on the higher end of the city - there was one rule that it followed to a T without exception: do not touch the workers without consent, yet this pig decided to forgo this fundamental rule put in place in ever strip club and touched you when you’ve told him many times to back off. His sweaty and grabby hands moving across your skin left you shuddering, his hands leaving you feeling disgusted by his touch.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, moving between the bodies to get away from the man.

“C’mon babe!” He moved to try to grab you, insistent that he only wanted to share a drink and talk, “Please! One lap dance!”

Men like him just couldn’t take no, it frustrated you. That might’ve been what he said : one lap dance, but you knew his type, he would demand for more after you were done and become forceful if you didn’t comply. You tried to distance yourself from him, your heels thumping quietly on the velvet flooring, hurried and annoyed while the man followed you, his fingers grazing the naked skin of your shoulder. You wore a blue teddy, the darkest shade of navy strapped to your skin, the bust acting as a corset to push out your breasts and the thin fabric cupping the swell of your ass. It was almost sheer, the few ribbons and decorative texture hiding anything too intimate from the public and garter straps holding your sheer stockings up your thighs. Your attire seemed to be the source of his obsession and of his liking, even following you to the boss’s VIP corner.

“No!” You swung your arm back, hurrying to the bodyguards standing between the VIP and public area of the club, “I told you-”

In your frantic hiss, you walked into a wall, groaning softly. The wall was more so a wall of sculpted muscle than a plaster and drywall, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his protective embrace. A wide and firm palm gripped your stomach, kneading the soft flesh under the lingerie.

“When she says no, it means no, cabrón,” Miguel growled, his broad stature overshadowing the man that followed you. When you turned your head, Miguel had his wrist in hand, the man winced and whimpered at the tight hold, strength threatening to break his wrist, “You got that?”

He nodded, running away with his tail tucked between his legs, out of the club and as far as he could from the beast that held you gently. Turning you around, he led you up the stairs connected to his upstairs suite, a personal balcony that overlooked the proudest part of his kingdom.

“He’s done.”

He wouldn’t be coming back, once Miguel gave the order, the person wouldn't ever be allowed back into any of his establishments. He had rules that he wanted to be respected, towards his employees and especially you, his sweet girl that he picked up from the previous pimp in the area he now controlled with an iron fist towards the cruel and abusive.

His mezzanine was spacious, a soft, faux leather couch, a black able and a private bar area in a corner for him to indulge in his drunken pleasures with or without guests. You’ve always liked this place, a distance from the music and crowd on the ground floor, it was a solace in the busy club. He sat you on the table, the cool surface making you flinch while he faced you, the leather dipping with his weight. He tenderly cradled your cheeks, thumb running along the curve of your painted lips, his eyes roving down your coverage, smooth skin uncovered to his hungry eyes and calling for him.

“Oh, mi dulce Musa,” he cooed, his lips kissing a line down your neck, the dip of your collar, the smell of your breasts and the warmth of your cunt, wetness pooling over the fabric of the teddy he gifted you. “I’m happy you came to me first.”

He hooked a thigh over his shoulder, spreading you on your back as he slipped a finger under your lace, pulling it aside to look at your glistening folds. Sliding two fingers between your labia and collecting your slick on his calloused pads, spreading them open to admire your cunt, clenching around air —hungry for his thick digits. He bowed his head, pressing a kiss on your throbbing clit, pulsing and needy, circling the entrance of your drooling hole, feeling it clench. Wrapping his lips around your nub, he sucked on it as he plunged in, two fingers stretching your tight warmth, guiding his hand in and out.

You cried out, bucking your hips against his rugged face, grinding upwards with a slow mewl. You felt stretched wide, a finger of his counted two of yours, long and sturdy, pumping into you with a goal in mind, tapping your gummy, sweet spot and pulling you apart from the seams. You moaned, shuddering under him, body wracked with tremors when he pumped a third finger, untangling you from the seams of your salacious and confident image you built from your time as a sex worker. You were a wanton mess, back arching and legs quaking, painted nails curled around Miguel’s hair, pleasure coiled tightly in your core.

His pace was steady, hand driving in deeply, coaxing more slick out of you, curling against your warmth. You clung to him desperately, head thrown back and teary eyed as you balanced on the precipice of your climax, an agonising thrum of pleasure beating between your thighs. Sensing your end, he rolled your clit with the tip of his tongue, giving you a bit of solace before he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You wailed, jerking around as your pussy closed around his fingers, your heat squirting over his hand. It was a blinding fire, eyes rolling back into a white cloud, sightless after your earth-shattering orgasm.

He whispered sweet compliments, laving over the bloodied mark with the flat of his tongue, slowly pumping in and out of you until you rode off your release, legs still shaking and hands still curled around his head. He kissed his bite, red eyes drinking in your debauched figure with his mark, a sign of ownership over you, the red indentation of his teeth bleeding you.

“Mía. Mi dulce Musa,” he whispered, gazing at you lovingly, predatory eyes glowing bright red under his lashes and wild curls.

Taglist: @yas-v @elliewilliamsbae @rinieloliver

[vosveti]

Miguel O’Hara being a soccer dad (part 1)

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 8: Conversion

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs. 

TW: car sex, memories of abuse, anxiety, dark thoughts, violence, murder, lots of shot. It’s a mafia fic, what do you think is about to happen?

The drive to wherever the fuck Miguel was taking you was filled with dread and completely soundless aside from the hum of the engine. Your arms covered your chest, as if trying to hug yourself as tight as possible and comfort yourself on the way to whatever meet up was happening. His hand lifted to hold you in some way, to show he was on your side and was going to keep you safe from the fuckers who tries to lay a finger on you.

But he didn’t. Miguel put his hand back on his phone and contacted the others, then being distracted by the tattoos on his knuckles, thinking about the numbers “2099” and back to his phone.

You sat, your face stained and rosy from the tears you cried, the anxieties pouring out of you as you heard Miguel directing the others.

Just then you saw a face out the window that you recognized as the car stopped at a light.

“Eddie.” You spoke and Miguel turned his face to look at you.

“What?”

“That’s- he’s right there!” You pointed as Eddie pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and began to walk away. Without thinking, you opened the door and launched into a sprint, chasing him now.

“Get back here!” Miguel screamed at you, but the only sound you heard was your heart pounding in your ears. Your heels crunched under each heavy step as you panted, catching up with him and finally grabbing his shoulder, pushing him to the ground. You tried to stop, but fell forward from the lack of balance and landed on his back.

“Eddie!” You yelled as people began to stare and you yanked his hood back, revealing him to the light of day. Your name was heard from behind you, but you drowned it out with the pure rage you saw. The memories of broken bones and black eyes, bruises and beatings came back as your fists shot attacks to his shoulders and the back of his head, tears clouding your vision. You felt two hands wrap around your torso and pull you off of him as you let out a painful screech, thrashing in Miguel’s grip as he held you back. Eddie stood up and looked at you, face a bit blood from being punched into the cement. His face was bewildered, shocked you had fought him. The surprise turned to anger as his features scrunched together.

“You fucking little bitch, I’ll end you! I was nice until now, trying to show you I wanted you back-”

“That’s enough.” Miguel pulled you tight to his chest as he kept his eyes trained on Eddie, not daring to break eye contact, “She doesn’t want you, and you won’t be ‘ending’ anyone.” Miguel glanced behind Eddie briefly before both Hobie and Pav appeared behind him, resting a hand each on Eddie’s shoulders and pushing him to the ground onto his hands. Miguel released you finally, but held one of your hands as his foot moved to stomp on Eddie’s fingers, the pops of breaking bones making you twitch a bit. You watched the interaction as Eddie yelped in pain and looked up at Miguel, fear corrupting the soft lines of his face while he began to grovel.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think she was-” He stuttered as Miguel crouched down.

“You laid a hand on the woman you claim to love, to need, so now I’m going to kill you. Painfully. I’m going to hang you by your throat from the highest building in Nueva York and watch you bleed out while fucking the woman you’re obsessed with.” Miguel pinched his nose and pulled his head up, a hiss coming from the lower man’s lips. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human, so I’m going to exterminate you.”

Standing again, he fixed the creases in his suit and pulled you against him once more, pressing a kiss to your temple and then yanking you to follow him. “Clean this up.” you said to Hobie as he forced you to leave with him, leaving behind your previous abuser and the two henchmen.

“Miguel, did you-”

“From now on, let me handle things. Now we’re late for this meeting and that could mean serious consequences.” He opened the door to the SUV and gestured for you to get in, relaxing a bit more once you sat inside and the door was shut. He got in on the other side and pinched the bridge of his nose, something you noticed he did often when he was stressed.

You sat in silence as you wiped your face. Everything happened all at once, so intensely. Old wounds you thought were long healed were now reopened and even more painful than the first time. Miguel’s hand rested on your knee and your eyes shifted to his, meeting his ruby red irises with anticipation. “You’re a part of this now, and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Now that Eddie can’t get to me, won’t they just hire someone else to get me?”

“Not if this meeting goes in my favor. No one in this city gets to challenge me without repercussions.“ You nodded and sighed, leaving your hand on top of his in a symbol of solidarity. Your eyes glistened with fear as you pulled him closer. He looked down in confusion as your hands moved to undo his belt and lower his pants. His hand caught your wrists and you looked up.

“Please, I-I,” You stopped speaking and began to feel your bottom lip wobble as you prayed the tears you felt coming on didn’t spill over. “I don’t know why, but I need you right now, I need this.” As your voice cracked, he let out a breath and let go of his harsh hold on your hand.

Miguel’s finger hit a button and a window came up to separate the front seat and the back, giving you two privacy. You pulled his cock free finally and marveled at its size, how thick it was in your hands. You immediately latched your mouth to the tip and swirled your tongue a bit, causing him to let out a slight hiss. His hands balled into fists next to him and you took one to place on the back of your head, eyes meeting his and giving him silent permission to guide you. He slid the hand to the back of your neck and let you bob on his cock before lifting you and enjoying the string of saliva from your lips.

“We don’t have time for me to fuck that mouth, now get on.” He squeezed your thigh and lifted your skirt, leaning down to give your clit a kiss and make you gasp before guiding you down. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have time to prep you.”

“Just shut up and put it in.” You answered sharply and he smirked, pulling your hips down to slide into you. Just the tip had you gasping and groaning, squeezing his shoulder as your walls fluttered around him. He kept his eyes on your expressions as he didn’t stop, moving you down until you were halfway, then jerking and bottoming out. The second his hips met yours, you let out a loud yelp and dug your nails into his suit jacket, teeth clenched as the burn turned to pleasure. That's when he began to swivel your hips back and forth on him, feeling him nudge against the deepest parts of you as your body rocked to his command. Your head bent into his neck as you panted and his thighs started to bounce under you a bit, making you do the same and rebound back onto him. You saw stars as you kept his hands on your waist now, staying in control of the pace and position. His movements made your jaw slack and open, letting out the loudest sounds you’d ever released as he pounded into you from the bottom. Quickly building, you felt your release about to pop and explode. He spurred on your climax by biting your shoulder and leaving a hard smack against your bobbing ass, making you squeeze your eyes shut and constrict around his dick as you shook with the orgasm that tore through you.

Gasping for air, you leaned onto his shoulder as he slipped out of you and tucked his still-hard dick back into his dress pants.

“We’re almost there, so relax for a minute.” he looked out the window as the car continued moving and the world spun around you from that earth shattering release. You sighed and closed your eyes, then freezing when you felt his hand slip into yours and intertwine with your fingers. “I wanted to have a better first time with you, but I know you needed it.” He mumbled without looking at you, surprise covering your features. “Get yourself presentable.”

The short amount of time you had left before the car stopped, you fixed your clothing and didn’t speak, avoiding eye contact with Miguel. Meanwhile, his eyes stayed glued on you, as if watching for any sign of malcontent or upset. You stared at your hands and picked at your nails, trying to breathe quietly as he stared holes in the side of your head like a gargoyle, not moving and eyes serious. The sound of the driver putting the gear shift into park made your head spring up and look forward, practically hopping out of your frozen position and filling up with life once more. Miguel’s hand trapped your wrist and yanked you towards him, his voice low as if warning you.

“Don’t make any sudden movements and don’t move away from me, make sure you stay within a foot of me.”

“Won’t that look suspicious?”

“I don’t care, this isn’t about what they think, it’s about keeping you safe. You’re part of the O’Hara family now, and that puts you under my protection, so you’ll stay close to me.” He repeated and you just nodded.

Your brain was still fuzzy, chasing Eddie and then riding Miguel. The whole day seemed to be a complete roller coaster and you were getting whiplash from the sharp turns it was taking.

He got out of the car and you saw him fix his suit jacket, clasping the last button before reaching in towards you and helping you climb out. You checked your reflection and saw how your hair was a bit frizzy and your jacket was a bit wrinkled. Tugging it down and combing your fingers over your head, you sighed and settled with the frazzled look you had. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked up to see Miguel’s eyes soft, squeezing as if to comfort you. The gesture was well intended but you were once more reminded of the previous 20 minutes and began feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He smirked slightly and pulled you forward with a hand on your lower back, as if guiding you across the River Styx for your eternal damnation. At least that’s what it felt like.

Walking into an elevator, you noticed that Hobie and Jess were now next to you. “When did-“

As if you weren’t even there, Jess looked through her yellow tinted glasses above you to Miguel. “He’s been taken care of.”

“A real whiny one, too, kept cryin-“

Miguel shot a glare at Hobie and then all of their eyes fell onto you, but you kept your gaze on the floor.

Taken care of… the words echoed in your head over and over. Eddie was dead, that’s what they meant. You knew that, but it still felt strange. He beat you, hurt you, destroyed your life, chased you from your home, stalked you and was going to kill you… yet, you still had a lump in your throat. Was it mourning? Mourning for the man you knew, or the man you thought he was? Maybe it was just pity, thinking of him as a sad excuse of a human. Or maybe it was anger. Anger because you wanted to see the light die in his eyes the way he had extinguished the joy you had in life and hope for love.

That one seemed to fit best as you felt your hand become almost numb from how tight of a fist you were making. You wanted to enjoy hurting him like he had hurt you, torture him just for a while as you got retribution for all the torture he put you through for years. Controlling you, belittling you, lying to you, cheating, screaming, hitting, hurting-

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone grabbing your wrist. You looked up to see Jess staring down at you with confusion and concern.

“You with us?”

“Yes, sorry.” You mumbled and avoided eye contact before Miguel grabbed your chin and forced your face to look at him.

“Your hand is bleeding.”

“What?” Your sights snapped to your plans, seeing that you were bleeding from the nails digging into your hands from your tight fists. Miguel opened his jacket and wiped the drops of blood on the inside of his suit, then planting a gentle kiss to the little cuts.

“Follow my lead.”

Tags: @luropo@yougavemeyourheartyouknow@not-9ok@bozos-r-us@byjessicalotufo @lifefullof-depression @chaoticbeanchild @neteyamsluvr11 @lilli-elen @vonev @juneonhoth @whatdudtheysay @ebonydumbslut @sarapaprikas-blog @darksidescorner @o-kei-beans @meeom @minalovesyoubabes @darkfairy102190 @imjustheretoreads-blog @softhewisdom @2008tillthen13 @shadowytravelerlover @s0fia4 @migueloharaluhver @silassinclair @ch3rry-l0z3r @its-carlerrr @kiaraking @berry-potchy @viriexo @mskye6522 @foundthem @the-ashtronaut @definitelynother-871 @literallydontlook @faithyourgirl @winteringfalls @cheerrioeoz @xxemmarldxx @freeloverpeanut @enheduannasposts @ashreblogsnow @itz-kiara @djarinluvr @lady-necromancer @phd-in-simpology @miguelswifey04 @oxrchd @deputy-videogamer @misswonderfrojustice @loxbbg

[bunnibitez]

Messy Hands - Part Two

Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader AFAB

Summary: Miguel just can’t get you off his mind. As a result, he’s always there when you need him most, whether you like it or not.

Word count: 4.6k+

CW: 18+ so MDNI, NSFW, mentions of blood, acts of violence, SA(NOT MIGUEL), stalking, jealousy, possessive behaviors, toxic relationship, mentions of death, slow burn, no use of Y/N

A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET OUT BUT I PROMISE ITS GOOD!!! THANK YOU TO MY BETA READER @jshookthighs I FUCKIN LOVE YOU

Part One here

Time never stops.

It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going battle behind closed eyes and clenched fists. No matter how many deep breaths are sucked in between gritted teeth, no matter how much he prayed, begged, kicked or screamed, time marched on. Taking it’s toll on the world and his soul as it did. With time came its companion, decay. A devious creature that preyed on the innocent and beautiful, corrupting it with it’s touch. That’s how Miguel began to see it all. It was a matter of time until his brain too rotted away until his skull was nothing more than an empty cavity to host his rage rather than his conscience. Every day he could feel the threads of his sanity being pulled taut, and every day he doubted how much longer he could go without being the cause of a fucking masacre.

Wrath.

Rage.

Justice.

So much “justice” due. That’s how he saw it. So many people had done wrong by him; tore him apart, brick by brick. Hurt the people he loved most just to get to him. Until one fateful night, he was left with nothing but a beating heart pumping weakly in a dirty alley, left to die. His chest still tightens at the memory of her. Stolen innocence snuffed out too soon. And yet the ones to blame were left unharmed, hidden behind the ivory walls of their mansions, never truly getting their hands dirty.

Cowards.

If only he had the chance, he’d slaughter them. Watch the life drain from their pathetic bodies as they’d squirm and writhe in pain. Begging for a bullet. But Miguel would take his time with them though, he was patient and knew better than to grant them a sliver of mercy. It was the only lesson his father ever taught him.

But that all would come in due time. Miguel was patient, capable of biding his time until his prey found themselves tangled in his web and unable to escape. But until then much like time, Miguel marched on; dragging a little corpse behind him.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Weeks had since passed at this point, breezing through late spring and bleeding into early summer. The days after the mysterious brute entered Bellagino’s were tense, leaving Mr. Caparelli flighty and panicked. The stout little man could often be found pacing in the kitchen, muttering to himself with a distraught look painted on his face. You didn’t dare ask why he seemed so frightened since his ‘friend’ came to visit, mostly because you yourself seemed a little terrified of him as well. In lieu of your best efforts and his divine features, the man was cold and seemed pestered by your presence at your last encounter. Despite this though, you seem to find yourself staring at him more and more. Since the meeting with Bellaginos’ owner, Miguel had begun to visit the quaint little restaurant every other week or so.

Miguel couldn’t find the motive behind his actions truly. He raked his brain for an answer, disturbing the cobwebs in his head to try and understand why he had to mindlessly sit here and watch. Sit and watch this run down old restaurant like a dog. Sit and feel his shoulders slump as the soft hum began to tune out the buzzing in his mind. He’d come in and plop down at the same little table in the center of the room and the owner would bring him the same ice water with lemon.

For the first two weeks, he had attempted to convince himself it was purely to ensure that Caparelli wouldn’t run out on him. Sure, getting to watch the pretty little thing behind the register try not to stare was fun, but these were just business trips. What did it matter that he started coming in twice a week? What did it matter that he’d feel a twist of disappointment when he’d walk through the creaky little door and not see you in your usual spot because it was your day off? It was just business.

That is until finally he had no choice but to confront the truth. It came at him, sitting in his lap, oozing through his gut and making his stomach tie in knots. It made him nervous and queasy, forced to hide it all behind a stonewall mask. It felt foreign, his thoughts jumbled as he began to lose focus on it all.

‘There’s no way. It’s just work.. It’s just..’

It was a warm night in July and an unusually busy Friday evening at Bellagino’s, due in part to the ongoing festival at the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Fairy lights twinkled overhead in the outdoor dining area, each seat filled with couples and gaggles of laughing friends. Miguel almost didn’t recognize the place with it so full of life. The building had an unfamiliar glow to it that simply complimented it, turning it into the homely feel of a little Italian cottage. Turning his attention to the windows as he approached, he saw you, floating around tables with a smile on your face. His lips parted slightly as he watched you, glowing like an angel in the warm lights.

In your element, twirling to avoid guests with ease, plating food and drinks without spilling a drop. You moved with grace and poise, completely unbothered and confident. It was a complete parallel to how you acted when Miguel was there.

That’s when he felt it. A tugging at his chest and the tightening of his lungs as he held his breath. He could feel his heart thrumming as he stood there, starstruck. For the first time, it wasn’t just a subtle hum, it was a goddamn symphony. A cacophony of harmonious melodies blended together to form the tune playing behind his eyes as he gawked in awe. He couldn’t think straight, his own thoughts being muffled out and pulled to the back of his mind. Sweaty palms clenched into tight fists as he closed his eyes and tried to shake out the cotton filling his head.

‘Think O’Hara… Breathe dammit…’ he reminded himself.

A large hand brushed back loose curls as he inhaled slowly through his nose. He knew he couldn’t stand there staring at you all night like some love stricken fool. He forced himself to move, to draw closer to the siren that called his name without even knowing he was there. His knees buckled, faltering for only a moment as he approached the door. Pushing through, his nerves got the better of him for just a split second and his instincts slipped as his eyes merely tracked you throughout the bustling restaurant. Forgetting to duck his head like he usually did, the top of Miguel’s forehead smacked into the doorframe with a soft thud.

He winced, inhaling sharply as he stumbled inside for a moment. He grit his teeth, more so from annoyance rather than pain. He shut his eyes, hoping to drown out the throbbing at the front of his skull if he rubbed it hard enough. He was grateful that almost everyone else seemed too enveloped in their own mindless conversations to even notice he’d arrived.

Almost everyone.

Approaching Miguel, you looked up at him. His hulking frame would’ve been intimidating had it not been that he slouched a little as he held his head. For the first time since you met him, it made your eyebrows draw upward in concern.

“Sir, are you okay..?”

It took Miguel a moment to open his eyes, his scarlet irises glancing down at you. Slowly he took in the shape of you, nodding his head sheepishly as he swallowed. His hand fell away from his head as he tried to regain his composure. This had been the first time since your initial meeting that you’d spoken to him. Once again, that honey voice triggered the euphoric hum in the back of his mind. Once his gaze met your eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. They were dazzling and full of genuine concern for him. The kind of eyes that men write poems and hymns about. Sweet irises that he could swim in, but he feared that if he dove in, he’d never come up for air. He’d never seen eyes like yours before. So awestruck that the only response he could give you was a low hum.

You looked down, feeling your bravery caught in your chest. Your eyes darted down to your feet and you cleared your throat, trying to remember the usual script you ran through when a customer arrived.

“R-Right, well… Table for one..?” You asked sheepishly, reaching for a menu. For a moment, Miguel feels his heart stutter. All the confidence you just had somehow managed to seep away in his presence. The way you kept your gaze glue to the floor made him frown, biting the inside of his cheek gently. He could feel the tension rising, an awkward wall you were starting to build. For half a second, Miguel felt a twinge of panic wash over him. He looked at you, searching your body for an out, a way to make things better, to make you less afraid. He swallowed thickly, scrambling his brain to try and think of something to say to lighten the mood or even make you laugh.

“Does it look like I’ve got anyone with me?”

‘Fuck.’

It comes out flat and sarcastic, not charming or teasing as he meant for it to. He internally cringes at himself as he sees the way you retract from him.

“Oh… yeah… Sorry, sir.” You mumble out and begin to guide him to his usual spot. The broken tone of your voice feels like a punch to the gut. A twist of his innards that has him wishing he could turn back time. He’s never been this awkward or nervous before. Usually his callous behavior is intentional and pointed, but now he feels it just makes him look like an ass.

“I’ll be right back to take your order…” Soft spoken and sweet, you place the menu down and walk away. Once seated, he pinches the bridge of his nose in self frustration, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out an annoyed sigh. He’s never been like this before, never been this much of a mess because of a woman. Usually his suave and charming nature takes over and he’s able to seduce anyone he damn well pleases, but for some unknown reason; you broke him. He groans quietly and shakes his head slowly, feeling the butterflies now pooling in his stomach.

‘Aye carajo, get a hold of yourself..’

It feels like his brain is on fire, criticizing every way the interaction went wrong. He feels his gut twist, pinching his nose with enough force that it starts to hurt and his knuckles turn white. The throbbing only continued as his frustration grew. His face practically morphs into a snarl as he sits and waits. Opening his eyes, he glares down at the menu before him, a pleather bound book with the edges peeling away. He tries to refocus his attention on literally anything else than his blundering attempt at conversation.

Miguel is left grumbling to himself when you return to his side. Silently you place a glass of ice water with a lemon wedge bobbing about the glass beside him. Fear beats quickly along side your heart as you wordlessly reach out your other hand, gently clutching a crude ice pack. It was nothing extraordinary, a little sandwich baggie filled with ice chips and wrapped loosely in paper towel. It’s placed on the table beside the water with care. Miguel eyes it for a moment. He feels his stomach twist again but this time its a different feeling. It flutters and it’s soft with smoother edges than before. His cheeks just hardly flush a soft pink as his features remain contorted into a grimace. Without turning his head more than two inches, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes are once again glued to your feet, trembling hands reaching to the pen and notepad tucked into your apron. With your head down and your nose nearly buried to the paper of the little booklet, Miguel can’t see the heat that’s spread across your face.

“A-Are you ready to order..?” You squeak out in a voice hardly above a whisper.

Miguel swallows, clearing his throat as he lifts his head. The pink on his cheeks is beginning to darken as your gaze peers over your little notepad and into his crimson eyes. His face melts from frustration, his brows furrowing just a little as he stares back, trying to remember his words.

“No.. I.. Just the water is fine.” He manages to force out. His hands are absently pulling at the cheap white fabric tablecloth as he looks at you. He swears that if he could freeze time at this moment, he would. The way your gaze softens as you look at him, has him biting his tongue just hardly. The butterflies are flapping wildly about in his stomach. Miguel’s canines dig into the tender flesh as he tries to ground himself, distract himself from how pretty those lashes would flutter as he forced you to look up at him from your knees. Would you let him hold your face still while he pounds into you- he wonders.

Your eyes flit back down to your book and you nod your head.

“Y-Yes sir. If you need anything, j-just call for me.” You hold the little name badge pinned to your chest for him as if he hadn’t eyed it the first twelve times he came in to watch you work. With that, you turn on your heel and leave him. Scurrying to another table while Miguel is left merely watching.

The subtle throbbing beats against his head like a drum before he glances down at the icepack you brought over. It feels so tiny in his hand. He lets out a little groan as he presses the baggie to his forehead, relishing in the relief it just barely provides. He can’t help the smile halfheartedly pulling at the corners of his mouth as he sits there.

‘She really didn’t have to do that…’

But he hardly has a chance to bask in his appreciation when he hears it, just barely audible amongst the chatter.

“Aww c’mon sweet’art. I bet I could show ya a real good time.” The man drawls out, clearly drunk from the second pitcher of sangria he and his buddies were splitting. He’s got a toothy and sloshed grin spread across his face as his hand glides up the back of your thigh. You look mortified, eyes silently screaming for help.

Miguel feels his lip twitch as he rises up from his seat.

“S-Sir please stop..” You squeak out, too quiet for the pickled bastard to hear or care. His hand is pulling back, gearing up for a smack, when suddenly a wide tan palm wraps itself around his wrist. It’s grip is tight and overwhelming when Miguel yanks, nearly dragging the drunk out to the ground in the process.

“No la toques, pendejo.” Miguels spits with venom as he twists the man’s arm. The usual hum that played in your presence was washed out by his rage. No one should be allowed to touch you, especially not some wasted shithead. Gritting his teeth, Miguel has to remind himself that he’s in public. Eyes fly to watch the scene unfold. He grumbles lowly as the man cries out in pain before Miguel practically tosses him back into his seat. He scrambles, nearly falling out of his chair to get back from you and Miguel.

With parted lips, a little gasp escapes you. Miguel feels his conscience flooding in as he looks back at you. Wordlessly, he jerks his head towards the door and starts heading for the exit. His eyes are cold, commanding almost. He grumbles something out loud to Caparelli about leaving in Spanish as his grasp nearly tears the creaky little door off it’s hinges. His eyes trace over you once more before he turns his back on you and lets out a gruff, “C’mon.”

Sticking close behind, you slip out the door as he holds it open.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The night air is warm, the remnants of the summer heatwave still staining Nueva York. It’s mostly quiet aside from the drone of car engines as they pass by. You’re silently keeping pace with Miguel, feeling your chest rattle from the whole interaction. Frightened, confused, and over in a flash. It makes you ball your hands into tight little fists, frustration quietly bubbling up in your chest. In that moment, you froze, retracting into your shell in the hopes that you could avoid confrontation all together. You’re biting back tears as they prick at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is brewing with what ifs and how badly it could’ve gone when suddenly, his voice pulls you from your thoughts. It’s low and sultry with the fleeting taste of a Spanish accent. You couldn’t really hear the words coming out of his mouth, too busy being lulled by the sound of him. You jerk your attention to him, eyeing his lips for a moment before forcing your gaze to meet his.

“Hm?” Is all you can manage.

“I said, do you live around here?” His voice cuts through, fully grounding you and bringing you back to the present.

“O-Oh.. yea. About five blocks thata way.” You tip your head to the left. “I can just walk.”

Miguel nods his head before starting to lead the way down 48th street. You open your mouth to protest his accompaniment but let the words die in your throat. Walking side by side with your head down, you could only let your thoughts wash over you again.

Miguel lumbered on the side of the concrete closest to the street, grumbling as he kept his eyes forward. Loathing boiled inside his stomach, frothing from his mouth in a string of Spanish curses and death threats.

“If I ever see that fucker again, I swear… Llevaré su piel como un abrigo.” He growled to himself, plotting and mentally preparing for the literal hell that he was going to drag that stranger through. His fists were clenched tightly at his side, burning white until he heard a soft sniffle. Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he turned his head to face you.

Your eyes were still glued to the sidewalk beneath you, tears rolling down ruddy cheeks despite how hard you tried to keep them from spilling. The quiet sounds you made were a result of the runny nose that accompanied your tears. It all just felt so overwhelming, so scary. In a moment of quiet and scarce vulnerability, you tried to be brave. But it was so so hard.

Miguel felt his heart sink in his chest. Thoughts of annihilation and revenge washed away. Softened eyes stared down at you silently as he tried to form the right words to say to you to make the pain and fear melt away. But he couldn’t. Miguel was all too aware of the fact that he lacked the necessary eloquence. It pained him to see you trying to bottle it all up. His teeth sunk into his cheek as he scrambled internally. Finally, he loosened his tightly balled fist, letting it hang limp.

Rough, large knuckles brushed up against the back of your dainty hand. The gentle ghost of a caress, hardly grazing your flesh, almost like he was afraid you’d shatter. Warmth radiated off his hand as once again, it swept across your skin, featherlight. Your head lifted, attempting to gaze up at Miguel, but by this time, he’d turned his head away from you in a shallow attempt to hide his growing blush. Whether it had been due to your tear-blurred eyes or your own volition, you stepped hardly an inch closer to the giant, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

The rest of the trek back to your shabby apartment was quiet, muted were the sounds of Miguel’s grumbling. They were drowned out by the sounds of your indistinct humming. It was nearly impossible to hear, but it was the only thing Miguel could focus on as the two of you passed through your neighborhood. Entering a large, ten-story building, Miguel was only able to remember where he was in the flickering yellow lights of the hall to your apartment door.

Standing before your apartment, he swallowed thickly. Palms sweaty and the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as you turned your back on him to unlock the door. You looked so small, so delicate, and so fucking pretty. He felt his heart race in his chest, nearly forgetting all together the events of nearly twenty minutes ago. Right now he just wanted to come inside with you and hold you in his arms. He wanted your body pressed against his chest, lulling him to sleep in the comfort of your bed. He wondered if those sheets smelled as sweet as you did, felt as soft to the touch. He tried to wondered if he’d prefer to rest his head amongst your pillows or your thighs, but he already knew the answer.

‘Please… please let me come in cariño… let me make you feel better… let me take care of you, just for tonight…’ he prayed to himself as he watched you open the door with caution.

Doe eyes stared up at him as his lips parted to speak. Just your gaze forced him mute. Rubbing the tears from your cheeks and smiling up at him with warmth and fondness, he thought he was going to fall to his knees right then and there.

“Thank you.. I-I really appreciate everything, sir.” You said gently, hardly above a whisper. It made Miguel savor your voice. The way it made his brain tingle and swim felt better than any liquor he’s ever had. He wanted to hear more of you, but more than anything he wanted to hear you say his name.

“It was no trouble at all. But please chula, from now on just call me Miguel…” He tried to offer the same warm smile you did but could hardly manage anything more than a sweet little smirk. Despite his expression though, you could see the light in his eyes. It was dull and flickering, but it was there, growing. You nodded your head and gave an airy half chuckle.

“Heh okay… Well then, good night… Miguel.” You spoke in the sweetest tone you could manage. Miguel felt a shiver travel down his spine. His cheeks flushed lightly and he swore he could feel his heart pounding behind his eyes. The way his name fell from your tongue made him weak and practically feral. For a moment he considered sweeping you off your feet and fucking you into the couch just so he could hear you say his name like that again. But instead he stood there, attempting to bite back his animalistic urges with his canines as you began to slip into your apartment. The door gently closed as he watched, standing there and thinking about all the ways he’d make you scream his name.

He tries to shake the thought loose but can’t. He can’t stop thinking about how sweet and obedient you’d be. How much you make his heart flutter and how crazy it drives him. Miguel feels a stirring in his chest, a queasiness that makes him feel sick for a moment as reality strolls back in. The fires of rage being stoked once more in your absence as he remembers what brought him to your apartment in the first place.

He can practically already taste blood on his tongue when he recalls the drunk from the restaurant. How terrified he made you, how something worse could’ve happened had Miguel not’ve been there. Through the haze of his anger he makes a decision, you’ll never be without protection again. He’ll always make sure you’re safe, constantly under the watchful eye of the family. Fuck if he could, he’d guard you himself, day and night.

No matter what or how, he’d keep you safe from the scum that roamed this city. He wouldn’t let the only pure thing in his life be tainted or taken away. Not again. God forbid anything did happen to you, Miguel would have to burn the whole city to the ground.

From that day forth, whenever he couldn’t watch over you himself Miguel would have one of his Spider’s watching over you. Jess or Ben would be the one’s usually sitting in an unmarked vehicle outside of Bellagino’s, stalking in the shadows to make sure you got home safe, reporting back to Miguel as he worked.

For a short while it satisfied him. That is until one night Jess reported she saw you opening the door for some friends, ushering them inside with glee as they carried bottles of wine and board games. Jess tried to explain it was fine, beyond normal even. But Miguel didn’t care. In fact he’d stopped listening to her the moment she said there was a man amongst the group of 4 that were permitted entry. Who the fuck was he? Why did he get to be so close to you? Jealousy washed over him, filling him to the brim.

‘It’s just for her protection…’ that’s what he told himself. Over and over again. Even when he had Peter install the little devices inside your house, while you were off at work. Miguel felt a tinge of guilt, sitting and watching you work with a smile on your face from his table. Meanwhile hidden surveillance cameras were being put in your bedroom, your kitchen, your bathroom, and your living room. It ate at him a little that he worried so much. But how could he not? He couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. This was for your safety, he knew better than to let you out of his sight. The last time he wasn’t watching carefully enough, it cost him… her.

No. He wouldn’t bury another person he cared about. Not when he had the power to do something about it this time. Not when you just started to warm up to him. You finally started to look him in the eye when he sat down at his usual spot. You finally started to smile at him and bless him with that angelic laugh. You started to loosen up and even stop and chat for a few minutes. Once on your break, you just sat and talked to him for the whole thirty minutes, telling him about your day and terrible jokes you thought he might like. All just to see him smile and laugh back at you. He couldn’t just let you slip away. Not when he knew what he’d do if he lost you.

As little as you knew it, you were holding his shattering mind together, keeping him from falling apart. If only you understood how much he needed you.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Time never stops. It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going beating of hearts and whispers of hope that pray for a better tomorrow. With time came its companion, decay. A mysterious creature that made room in the world for new hope and potential. Miguel didn’t always enjoy time’s passage, nor did he adore it’s companion decay. But with the two, a third party marched, carrying a flag of promise and beauty. With time and decay, tread growth. A glorious and shining ray for tomorrow, growth lit a path for time, giving way for hope.

Everyday that he saw your glowing face, he could feel his heart beating and mending, little by little.

But Miguel was patient, slowly learning to accept time and the company it kept. He knew to bide his time and earn your trust. He knew that with time, you’d be his.

Part 3

Taglist

@whisperwispxx @eatally @moonvoidpng @unicornbabygremlin @chshiresins @iloveyouall234-blog @amber-content

[n1an-gao]

King Magnifiguel

[syd-vixious]

Obso-fucking-lutely phenomenal!! I loved this story start to finish.

Puzzle Pieces Ch17 (End)

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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It was another beautiful day in the city of Nueva York. The snow was sticking to the ground and the Christmas spirit was in the air. Everyone in the city was doing their last minute Christmas shopping while making sure they had their ingredients for dinner.

You were not shy to being one of those last minute shoppers. It was the day before Christmas and you were panicking about making sure you had everything to make for dinner. You wanted to treat Miguel well since this was going to be your first Christmas together.

It had been two weeks since the incident with Eddie. Miguel had reassured you of his death and even mentioned something about your parents calling off the engagement. As much as you wanted to ask how, you knew that Miguel was always going to take care of you. It was so reassuring to have him by your side.

Humming quietly to yourself as you walked down the aisle of your old job, you smiled spotting the deli. Your former supervisor gave you a wave and motioned you over. As you drew closer, one of the workers placed a ham inside your cart.

"On the house," Your supervisor said. You just smiled,

"T-Thank you!"

Returning to your shopping, you couldn't stop smiling since this was the first time you were enjoying yourself. It did feel slightly weird since you did have a bodyguard. Miguel wanted to make sure that you were always with someone and safe.

Miguel was sure to make you as comfortable as possible. You were the girlfriend to the leader of the strongest mafia in the city. It was a scary thought.

"Do you have a dress for tomorrow night?" Peter asked, wanting to make small talk since you were getting overwhelmed with the amount of people in the store.

"O-Oh, y-yes...L-Lyla and I...went s-shopping for one...Um...D-Do I need t-to bring...anything?" You asked, getting in line. Peter glanced around,

"Just a smile on Miguel's face. I think that will cheer everyone up," Peter said with a chuckle.

You couldn't help but smile as well. You've gotten to know some of Miguel's men and women. They were all really nice people. Nothing from what the movies portrayed. One might think you were insane for getting comfortable with the mafia.

"O-Oh, P-Peter...could we stop by....one more place....please?" You asked. Peter glanced down at you,

"Of course!"

---------

It was an unusual sight. You were standing in front of a mirror wearing a gorgeous dress. The only issue you were having were your scars. As beautiful as dress was, your scars showed your ugly side. Not even makeup could cover them.

Tears started to well up as you went to grab your sweater. How could you present yourself as Miguel's girlfriend if you looked like this? What were people going to think?

"¿Conejita? (Bunny?), what's wrong?" Miguel asked as he entered the room and saw you crying, "Don't cry, look how beautiful you are!"

"B-But...m-my scars, Miggy," You whimpered. Miguel fixed your hair and pecked your lips,

"Are nothing to be ashamed of, but if you wish to cover them, then I understand." He said and fixed your sweater, "I still love you all the same."

"I...love you too," You sniffed, wiping your tears away, "I...I just don't...want your people...to think...y-you k-know..."

"Whatever they think, they keep to themselves. My people know better than to insult me or you," Miguel whispered, resisting the urge to call you anything but his wife.

"Miggy~" You cooed happily, enjoying these moments.

You glanced at Miguel and squeaked, seeing the lust in his eyes. Before you could protest, Miguel picked you up and placed you on the bed, wanting to hog your beauty all to himself. You whined, afraid of ruining your dress, but Miguel made sure to be careful.

"M-Miguel~ N-No...m-more~ ah~ I-I gotta...s-stand mhm~ f-for the p-party!" You cried out as he bullied his cock into you.

"Just once more, baby. I want everyone to know that you're mine." Miguel hissed as he sucked on your neck.

You arched your back, moaning loudly as Miguel grew rougher with his thrusts. His grip was tight against your hips as his dick rubbed against your sweet spot, causing you to cum. Shaking in pleasure, you whimpered as Miguel kept his pace, painting your insides white.

"M-Miggy," You panted softly. Miguel licked his lips, glancing down at you,

"Just one more, please?"

-------------

Your face was flustered as you held onto Miguel. Your legs were shaky and quite numb, so Miguel had to carry you into the party. It was none the less embarrassing. Plus, your neck was covering with Miguel's love bites.

"T-This is embarrassing," You whispered. Miguel chuckled softly as he entered the Alchemax building,

"It's only for a short while. I usually stay at this party for an hour, the other two hours." He explained and placed you on your feet, "But, if you want to leave early to continue celebrating Christmas-"

"Mhpm!" You huffed your cheeks out, giving a slight glare towards your sex driven boyfriend, "W-We're b-binge watching m-movies remember?" You whined. Miguel couldn't hold back his laugh,

"I know, baby. I can't help but tease." You felt captivated by his smile, "Just stay by my side, okay?"

"O-Okay,"

Everything felt like it was moving so fast. You refused to let go of Miguel, not used to the fancy party life. Alchemax was different and you weren't sure if you liked it yet. The food was fancy and the people seemed snobby. It was no wonder why Miguel wasn't too fond of this job.

The only good thing about this party was that people only paid half a mind to you. Everyone tried to avoid Miguel unless it was a simple introduction. Miguel was the CEO, he had to make his rounds and a small speech.

Sitting a small private table, you smiled as Miguel handed you a small plate of food. He kissed your head and went up to the stage to make his yearly speech. After he was done, the two of you were going to go to his more 'lively' party as Miguel called it.

"Is she dating the boss?"

"Can't be, look at her."

"But those marks-"

"Just a fling. We have a better chance."

Ah, there is was. You hadn't left Miguel's side until now, so you had avoided hearing the whispers about you. Of course, everyone was curious about you. The CEO of their company had brought a girl they had never seen before.

You wanted to tell them that you were Miguel's girlfriend. You wanted to tell them that they were wrong. That they would never stand a chance with Miguel, but you were still afraid. Just because you had gotten comfortable with Miguel, didn't mean that you were ready to confront others yet.

"Please, do enjoy the rest of the night. My wife and I have other matters to attend. I shall see you all in the New Year," Miguel spoke before leaving the stage.

You hadn't even heard his last part, still playing with your sweater sleeves about what those girls said. You didn't even notice Miguel approach you from behind, his arms wrapping around yours.

"You didn't eat. Was the food not to your liking?" He asked. You flinched and shook your head,

"S-Sorry...I um...spaced out." You whispered and scooted closer to him, "A-Are we leaving...?"

"Yes, perhaps you'll like the food there better."

Miguel lifted you up, ignoring your small protests and his staring underlings. He held you close until the two of you arrived at his other party. It was already lively since some of the Peters had gotten a little drunk.

"C-Can I ask-" You giggled lowly, seeing Miguel's slightly annoyed expression, "H-How did you come to hire so many p-people with the s-same name?"

"I don't know. I really don't know," Miguel huffed and watched as his mafia went wild, "Let me get you a pla-"

"THE BOSS'S WIFE WANTS FOOD!" One of the Peter's yelled. You were too focused on Miguel leading to a table to hear the yelling,

"BRING THE QUEEN HER FOOD!"

"FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!"

"What the hell are they going on about now?!" Miguel barked. Lyla came over with Jessica and a few other girls,

"Everyone's excited to finally meet (Y/N). They're bringing her a plate of food now," She said with a grin.

"E-Excited to s-see...me?" You questioned in shock.

"Yea, you're the one who thawed this grumps heart." Jessica hummed while Gwen and Margo snickered to themselves.

Miguel kept his quiet glare since you were enjoying their company. He turned his attention to his drunk underlings who brought you a large enough plate to even feed Miguel. Wondering if he should make his speech now, Miguel waited on you.

He enjoyed the smile on had on your face as you talked to the girls. Your eyes sparkling ever so slightly at the mountain of food. You seemed to be happy here, that's what mattered.

"I'll be right back," Miguel whispered in your ear.

You shivered in delight and pecked his lips, wishing him luck. Miguel groaned lowly, hurrying to the main stage to calm his eager crowd. Oh, how tempting you were still. Miguel was going to make sure to keep on giving all night long.

"Excited to give Miguel your gift tomorrow?" Lyla asked, ignoring Miguel's speech. You felt your cheeks warm up,

"I-I really...r-really hope he likes it."

"He will. Miguel will cherish anything you give him."

"I trust you all to keep this city safe again this year. My wife and I shall lead this family to success-"

"I-I'm just worried...t-that he'll think it's...cheap..."

"Miguel doesn't care about that. Listen to this, his brother gave him a baseball from one of his games and Miguel still has it in a glass case!" Lyla grinned.

"As you've all seen, my wife is quite shy and nervous when it comes to new people, so I expect you all to behave and-"

"O-Oh, yes! M-Miguel told me that story. It's s-super sweet," You cooed, hiding your smile, "S-So...he will like my g-gift~"

"HEIR! HEIR! HEIR!"

"The hell are they yelling now?" Jessica huffed, crossing her arms towards the crowd. You titled your head, drinking some wine,

"Hair?"

"Ignore them," Lyla snickered.

You were still confused, but kept enjoying your meal and drink. Eventually Miguel returned and cozied up to you, claiming that he needs a break already. You laughed at his childishly behavior, but indulged anyway.

After a while, you were tipsy and ready to go home. As ready as you were to sleep, Miguel made sure to keep you up for a few more hours.

Tis was the season of giving after all.

---------

You let out a soft whine as Miguel scooped you up from the bed. He had you wrapped in the blanket, carrying you over to his large living room. You rubbed your eyes, glancing at his beautiful Christmas tree and tons of gifts placed below it.

You gasped at the sight, shocked to see so many presents. Miguel chuckled towards your reaction and placed you down on the couch. He pecked you lips and went to bring some eggnog. You were still in shock, wondering if your gift was going to be good enough again.

"Where would you like to start, Mi pequeño conejita (my little bunny)?" Miguel asked, handing you a mug. You glanced towards him, placing the cup against your lips,

"C-Can I...give y-you your gift...first?" You asked.

Miguel happily agreed if that was your wish. Miguel watched you struggle to grab his present from a hidden spot. You were cute as you struggled to walk. Returning to the couch, you let out an 'oomph' as you fell on Miguel, handing him his present.

"M-Merry Christmas!" You chirped.

Miguel brought you into his embrace, opening the gift with ease. His eyes widen, seeing that you got him a glass Spider figure. Miguel glanced towards you, watching as you touched the spider, opening a small compartment.

"Tadaaa," You chirped. Miguel glanced inside the compartment and chuckled,

"Chocolate hearts? How cute, you can't even tell they were in there."

"I-I've noticed that y-you liked Spiders....y-you know, before I-I knew you were part of the S-Spider mafia. T-The hearts...I um...I wanted to um....r-represent...m-my love...for you." You stuttered, feeling slightly embarrassed now.

"I love it, mi amor (my love)" Miguel brought you in for a deep kiss, "Allow me to give you one special gift first."

You could feel small hearts floating above your head as Miguel kept giving you kisses here and there. He went behind the tree and brought you a medium size gift. Curious, you opened it and saw that Miguel got you a custom made puzzle.

"Let's build it together," He whispered in your ear.

You muffled a whimper as Miguel sat you between his legs. You could feel your heart race as his hands engulfed yours. The two of you were working on a special puzzle together. You were both nervous and excited to see what it will form into.

"Will?" You questioned.

"Keep going,"

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel kept whispering and kissing your ear. He grabbed your hands, working on the other side of the puzzle now.

"Me?"

"Ten piedad, te voy a devorar si sigues siendo tan linda. (Have mercy, I'm going to devour you if you keep being this cute.)" Miguel groaned.

You bit your lower lip as you kept working on the puzzle. You could feel Miguel's erection already, making you really wonder what the puzzle was. Your eyes started to widen as you saw another word being formed. Miguel then covered your eyes as his hands motioned yours to finish the puzzle.

"Ready?" Miguel moved his hands away from yours eyes.

"Will you m-marry me?" You gasped in awe, then turned to face Miguel, "Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried, tackling him in a hug. Miguel wrapped his arms around you waist, laying against the floor,

"(Y/N), I love you so, so much. I promise to take care of you now and forever," Miguel said with a low hum. This time, you were the one to cover him in kisses,

"M-Miguel, t-thank you so much f-for treating me well. I-I love you so much it hurts! I-I can't wait to be called your wife!"

"Oh? I've been calling you that all night." Miguel chuckled lowly, sliding your panties down, "I thought it was so cute how you didn't hear a single one."

"Y-You were?!"

"Everyone knows that you're my wife," Miguel laughed, sitting back up and kissing you deeply, "And now, you will be."

"Thank you, M-Miguel," You pecked his lips happily. Miguel picked you up, hovering over you on the couch,

"No, thank you, (Y/N)."

Every one is a puzzle just waiting to find their missing pieces. It may take some time and there maybe moments where you think you found the right piece, but patience will reward you in the end. For you will finally find all of your puzzle pieces eventually.

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THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AND SUPPORTING THIS STORY!!! I couldn't have done it without all of your love and support! As sad as I am to see this story end, what ends with one, gives life to another!

I have already started on my next story. I present:

Corruption (Villain!Miguel x Hero!Reader)

Thank you all again for reading and enjoying my story! I hope to see you all again in my future projects~

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

-

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

-

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

-

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

[spdrwdw]

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 

“What?” You questioned. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 

[rafeysbafey]

rafeysbafey’s fic recs

- rafe cameron

prompts/blurbs

mean!rafe x crybaby reader

gentle sex

fics

live like a kook (enemies to lovers)

pillow talk (mean!rafe)

perfect (fluff)

first kiss (mean!rafe x innocent reader)

mean!rafe soft for reader

enough (angst)

dealer!rafe (fluff)

vanilla (illusions to sex)

smuts

“i’ll make it fit” (hate sex)

caught in public

indebuted (dark!rafe)

soux chef (pogue!reader)

smut

praising (dealer!rafe)

hate sex

series

untouchable

don’t blame me

the trip (enemies to lovers)

- jj maybank

fics

undercover (fluff)

opposites attract (mafia!arranged marriage)

smuts

breeding kink!jj

stuck with you

mocking

the art of going all the way

- ethan landry

fics

how you get the girl (smut at end)

ghostface!ethan

let the games begin (hogwarts au)

secret mornings

hazy

smuts

can’t get rid of me (dark!ethanlandry)

bratty!reader

smut

diary (brothers bestfriend!ethan, enemy!ethan)

jealous boy

- draco malfoy

smuts

enemies with benefits (hate sex)

- theodore nott

prompts

“my love language is bullying people” (fake dating)

fics

you’re the best i ever had, you’re the worst i ever had

- miguel o’hara

smuts

la apuesta

smut

perfect morning

obsession

smut blurb

- coriolanus snow

smuts

ways to destress

ride

[meowhara]

when will we get to see mafia miguel x bunny reader again I’m wanna read more also love ur fictional stories ❤️❤️

thank you so so much for liking any of my stories and as another form of apology for my disappearance, I made a little drabble for our beloved bunny reader!

‎‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲? 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲?

♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ mafia!miguel o'hara x hybrid!bunny reader

cw : miguel's ex (I just feel like this should be a warning)

you were waiting for Miguel to come home from work when all of the sudden an uninvited guest barged her way in into his place

You’re just being dramatic, you thought. He was just going to work, the only time where he would never allow you to be by his side. His answer never changed. A big no to every promise you made to behave your best so you could come with him throughout the day. 

The slow mornings are your favorite. Being awoken to Miguel’s lazy yet loving kisses. Tender kisses planted all over your face. You wish it could always be like this. Yet goodbyes always sneaked its way into your life. 

It feels lonely without him. He is all you dedicated yourself to. It was what you have been taught from the start. Loyalty, beyond everything. 

You lie on his bed alone. His side of the bed was cold, all warmth gone from being abandoned for hours on end. You weren’t the type to be a clingy one but his attention makes you feel safe. His actions screamed promises that he would never leave you again. That he would shower you with love and care, the only thing you never thought you would experience.

They’d shrug whenever you asked when he’ll come back. Giving you no reassurance whatsoever. Therefore, you need to reassure yourself. Bewilderment across their faces the moment you come out from his room. How on Earth did Miguel’s coat end up in your hands? You obviously wouldn’t tell them. But right now you needed a tingle of his existence with you, his scent. They did try to take it away from you, but you were so persistent and won’t let go of the massive piece of clothing that fits you like a dress. Guess the best idea is to let you have it all to yourself, rather than having their heads ripped off from making you cry by their own boss. 

So here you are, curling up on the couch, drowned by the massive coat that covers almost the entirety of your body. The gentle conversations from the TV in the background filled your ears. Your head buried into the fine material the coat made out of. 

“Ma’am, please leave. Boss is not here at the moment.” A man’s muffled voice can be heard from outside the front door, making you shoot your head up in curiosity. “You’re lying! I know he’s inside! He’s just avoiding me like the motherfucking coward he is!” Another voice replied and it’s a woman’s voice. The door slammed open before a woman with light skin tone and short brown hair just about her shoulder rushed into the house in an aggressive manner. “Where is he? O’Hara!” She shouted, looking absolutely furious. His underling just sighs. Too tired to deal with the stone head of a woman. “Please leave. He doesn’t want you here.” The man spoke, forcing gentleness into his voice. Just who is this woman? Barging into someone’s house like it was hers in the first place. “I’m not leaving until I force a slap into that fucker’s face. And don’t you dare tell me what to do. You’re nobody but a loyal dog that works for him.” She sounded like a little kid. Throwing a tantrum after not getting what she wanted. 

Her heels clicked on the floor in hurry, passing by the living room where you’re curled up in before she paused on her tracks.

“Who is that?” 

“Nobody. Now please leave.” He raised his voice. Patience wearing thin from how stubborn she is.

“You’re telling me, nobody is sitting in there right now as we talk?” She pushed the man aside by his shoulder before making her entrance into the living room. 

After a second of silence in between both of you, you stood up to your feet. Feeling the need to say something in order not to come out as rude. “Hello…” You greeted meekly. Her eyes scanned over you as she stood there with her hand on her hip. Your bunny ears were so strange in her eyes.

She recognizes the coat that was resting on your small form. It's his and he would never let any soul touch anything that was his, unless… “Take it off.” She commanded but you shook your head in refusal. “I said take it off. Before I rip it off of you.” She scoffed at your attempt to keep it to yourself before walking over towards you and started pulling on the coat. “If I told you to take it off. Then take. It. Off''

“Ma’am—“ The moment the insolent woman laid her hands on you, Miguel’s men tried to stop her by pulling her off of you. But she didn’t budge, “Don’t touch me! You have no right to touch me.” She slapped the man’s grip away until all he could do now is to watch her assaulting your innocence. 

She continued to yank the piece of clothing off until your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re clutching onto it. You eventually gave up, letting her forcefully snatch the coat off your body. You thought she’d just left after all of that, but she’s not done. Your presence was like the fuel to her hatred and anger towards Miguel. So she decided to put an end to this and claim her rightful place again by his side. And the only thing stopping her to do so is you. What kind of girl are you anyway that Miguel chose you over her? She panted and threw the coat aside before she regained her composure. You keep your head low. Making eye contact with the beast is the last thing you want to do. 

“Leave.”, She waited for you to move your legs and leave. Not from the living room, but from his house. She waited and still didn’t get any reaction from you. She expected you to just scramble off like the loser of a girl you are. Instead of scrambling off you stood there quietly, worsening her madness. Her hand made its way onto your face. Gripping both of your cheeks tight with her palm and forcing you to look into your eyes. She’s satisfied over tears in your eyes, satisfied that she successfully made you cry over something like this. 

“Leave this house and I won’t hurt you.” She threatened and it surprised her when you pushed her off and tried to run but she yanked your hand and pulled on one of your fluffy ears. Forcing you to stand still in front of her. “Listen here, you little pest. Miguel doesn’t love you. So don’t get any idea in that little head of yours, that he would actually keep you.”

You fighting back instead of running was the least thing she expected you to do. Yet your claws dug deep into her hand which was still tightly gripping your ear earning a loud whine from how painful her doing is towards you. “You little—“, She hissed through gritted teeth. Her free hand raised high in the air, prepared to slap you. 

However, the quick motion of her hand was interrupted. She froze right there and then when she saw no other but Miguel stood in front of her with her free hand trapped in his tight grip. “M— Miguel.” She stuttered and let go of your ear. The smile on her face was dismissed by a hard slap across her face. Miguel slapped her, hard enough to return her senses into her mind. She stumbled back when he let her hand go. She stood there in silence with her palm resting on the same spot on her cheek where Miguel had slapped her. “How dare you!” She squealed. 

He stood there with such a calm manner, though both you and Dana knew that calmness was never a good thing when it comes to Miguel and this kind of situation. He turned his back on her and crouched beside you as you cried on the floor. The way he tried to gently soothe you were like daggers stabbed into her heart. She couldn’t believe he would stoop so low and replace her with someone else like you. Someone who’s weak and clinging onto him like a leaf that was to be blown away by the wind. 

“After all this time, you’re going to throw me away just like this?!” She shouted, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. “I bet that you don’t even love her. You’re just using her for her body! The only reason for you to keep her is only because you enjoy fucking her! Then you’ll abandon her like you did to me! You’re supposed to love me, not her…” 

“Can’t you see that I’m here for you? Miguel?!” He stood up and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close so that their faces were almost touching. “I didn’t abandon you. You did. You cheated. You think I didn’t know about you dating my brother behind my back?” Her body felt weak the moment truth escaped through the mouth of the man she once dated. “You should be grateful that I didn’t take matters into my own hands and pushed you away instead. But you still dare to barge into my house and harassed her?!” His breath hits her face as he continues to yell at her like rays of anger. “I loved you and this is how you pay me back? Answer me, Dana!” 

The room falls quiet after his roar has died down. “Leave… And never come back. I never wanted to see you again.” He growls into her ear before pushing her away by the shoulder. His words broke her down into tears before she ran off and slammed his front door hard then drove off.

He took his place once again by your side as you tensed up in fear after watching the whole scene unfold right in front of your own eyes, once again dropping your head down and it has been an ongoing habit by now. “Love? What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, making sure that you’re okay or he might have to take a visit to that bitch Dana. He saw how tense you are. Probably shocked from how harsh he treated his own ex. “You hit her…” 

“I know baby, I have to.” 

“But you said— you said you would never hit a woman.” You said in between sobs.

“She’s no woman if she tries to hurt you, she’s a monster. I’m doing this for you. So you’ll always stay safe. I would never hit you nor hurt you, that I promise.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course baby.” He kisses you tears away before taking his coat and scooping you into it with one force. Turning you into his little burrito, wrapped up in his coat. A couple giggles erupted from your mouth. He carried you in his arms and started walking upstairs. “I see you dare to get your hands on my coat.”

“You were gone for so long.” You whine. 

He laughed, “I was only gone for the day, it’s not that long.”

He opened the bedroom door before setting you down slowly on the bed then lay down beside you. “Let me make it up to you, what do you say baby?”

a/n : I guess there's only one thing that the whole miguel o'hara fandom could agree on. the fact that we all hate dana d'angelo

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Hello I’d like to request something :3 what if miguel was a maifa boss and he was both Spider-Man and the worlds deadliest maifa boss and he teased reader as spider man, like when he saves her.

“You should really be careful. Wouldn’t want a monster swallowing you up now~” and one day she’s in danger from a tentacle monster (or something) and his identity is shown and the two go home after the monster is defeated and just have the most steamiest of S E X-

OmggGGGGG- yes yes yes

Miguel x F!Reader - Savior

CW: NSFW, mafia, s e x w/ plot

Word count: 1,435

The infamous Spider-Man had saved you many times now. Honestly, with how much you needed rescuing it seemed like you were just asking for trouble. You never got close enough to learn anything… personal. He’d swoop in, save you, carry you off to a safe spot or even your apartment, and that was that. Despite not knowing him personally, you started developing feelings for the masked hero.

Every time he saved you, you became distracted by him. How tall he was, the way his tight suit defined every curve and muscle of his body. That sexy voice that made you wet every time he spoke. His entire being turned you on. Your body had very inconvenient timing. You couldn’t believe you were more focused on swooning over him than your life being in danger. Maybe your body just knew you were safe in his presence, and all worries washed away.

Today was no different. After so many encounters with villains and criminals, they started to not scare you, you knew he’d rescue you. So when a giant slimy tentacle monster grabs hold of you, the usual sense of fear didn’t overwhelm you it like so often did. You did scream at first, as the monster coiled it’s long tendril around your ankle and houses you up in the air. Blood flowed to your head quickly and you squirmed. Of course this happens the day you wore a skirt.

Just like clockwork, you saw the familiar neon red webs go flying by as Spider-Man swung in. And like every single time you grew so wet at the sight of him, your mind completely forgetting about the danger you are in.

“You should really be careful. Wouldn’t want a monster swallowing you up now~” Spider-Man teased as he tied the beast up with his webs. He did take notice of your skirt, exposed panties so wet. He’s so distracted he doesn’t notice the monster swinging a tentacle at him, slamming him against a building.

His suit glitched, and you could see his face for a brief moment. Your eyes widen in shock when you immediately recognize him. Miguel O’Hara. The mafia boss that practically ruled the country with his power. He was Spider-Man? He was the one saving everyone? The one that made you feel so incredibly horny every time you saw that blue and red suit.

He quickly got his suit fixed before getting back in the fight, easily defeating this monster. The tendril let go of you and you fell to the ground with a yelp. He caught you in those muscular arms and your heart skipped a beat. Spider-Man, well... Miguel, brought you to the rooftop of a tall building and set you down to make sure you're not injured.

“So...” You started, “You're Miguel O'Hara, huh?” That was a very bold starter sentence, even for you. His head snapped in your direction, the eyes of his mask squinting as he looked at you.

“Who told you that?” He growled.

You suddenly realize what the fuck you just did and you back up against the railing. “Well your suit glitched and I saw your face and-” You cut yourself off when you heard him chuckle. He was laughing at you?

“I figured you'd find out eventually, Carino. With how wet you are I just knew you'd learn sooner or later.” A deep blush spread across your cheeks as you realized he had seen your panties, soaked with your slick just from watching him as he saved you. You subconsciously closed your legs, and he definitely noticed.

Without saying another word he scooped you up again and took you to your apartment. You knew where this was going, and the thought just soaked your panties even more as you clung to him. He entered your apartment through the window and his mask dissolved so you could see his face clearly. He truly did look intimidating face to face, but you didn’t feel any fear.

Miguel looked around your apartment before looking back at you. He smirked before pushing you against the wall, and you pulled him into a deep kiss, feeling a bit impatient now. You didn’t know what came over you, you didn’t understand why you had this deep need to get fucked by him.

His hands are all over you as the two of you make out, your hands on his big shoulders. You felt the rest of his suit dissolve and his bare skin on your hands, letting out a small gasp when his hard cock sprung free against your clothed pussy. He shivered a little feeling the wet fabric on his dick.

You were lifted with ease, your legs wrapping around him as he pinned you to the wall. With a free hand he ripped your panties off using his talons. He rubbed his cock between your wet folds, getting it all slick and lubed up. You let out another gasp when you saw the size, now you were scared. How could that fucking fit? He was huge!

As he rubbed against you, the tip kept teasing your needy hole and covering your pussy with precum. You pulled him closer with your legs and he grunted when he felt the tip almost enter you.

“Cálmate…” He groaned into your ear before dipping his head to kiss your neck, nipping and leaving hickeys. His actions as well as the feeling of the cock tease your clit made you moan. You whine and try to pull him against you more. He gives in this time, pressing the tip into your hole slowly.

You moan as he enters you, feeling your pussy stretch so tight around him. He goes slow at first, pushing in inch by inch until he’s completely buried in you. His hands grab and grope as your body, your hips, your tits, your ass, he wants to feel all of you. He groaned when he couldn’t and started ripping the rest of your clothes off so he can see your skin against his.

His hands settled on your hips as he started rocking his slowly, moving his length in and out. It was agonizing. You needed more. To feel more. Your hands found their way to his waist and you tried to make him pick up his speed. He let out a chuckle, and suddenly your hands were tied with red webs, suspended to the ceiling. Now you were truly at his mercy.

You moaned as his pace quickened, your pussy clenching around his girth as he fucked you into the wall. Your mind went fuzzy, all thoughts consumed by Miguel and how fucking amazing he felt inside you. Your head fell against his shoulder as more beautiful moans escaped your lips. He whispered praises in your ear, telling you how good you felt on him and how amazing you sounded.

As you clenched around him more he groaned. He had been pent up all day, and everything about you was just pulling him to the edge. He did not want to release first, and he started thrusting faster in hopes to make you cum first, to give you a mind blowing orgasm. You moan against his shoulder as the tip of his cock hit that special spot.

His hand traveled down, and he started to play with your clit. You squirm and cry as he rubs circles around your bud, feeling that familiar tightness in your stomach.

“Shit I… fuck I’m close…” You moaned and he nodded in response, speeding up with hand to match the pace of his cock. A few more thrusts and you were undone, letting out a loud cry as you came all over his dick, tightening around him over and over. He grunted and hilted in you as he released as well, filling you up with his cum.

He rocked his hips slowly as you both rode out your orgasms, placing kisses to your neck and shoulders. Once you both calmed down you whined as the overstimulation as he continued his slow thrusts. He finally pulled out and you sighed in relief, your clit twitching from so my stimulation.

“Does this make me your hot trophy wife?” You joked as you panted, earning a grin from him. “You know ‘cause of the mafia thing. We could make this a regular thing~” You chuckled.

“I guess it would keep you out of trouble. So we’ll see, depends how much you can take.” He smirked, and your eyes widened when he moved you to the couch, cock already hardening again as he positioned you for round two…

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Masterlist

♡-smut minors do not interact.

Under construction!

Spiderverse

One shots, two shots and dribbles

✭ Put it on (Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader) one shot

✭ Go-go dancer (Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader) one shot

✭ Hellfire (Priest! Miguel O’Hara x Demon! Fem! Reader) one shot

✭ You look lonely… (Miguel O’Hara x spider! Fem! Reader) Drabble

✭ Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) (1/2)

★ Can I be the helpless victim?♡(2/2)

✭ Within cells, interlinked (Miguel O’Hara x Ai/Hologram! Fem! reader) (1/2)

★ Do you long for having your heart interlinked? (2/2)

✭John Wayne (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) (1/2)

★ It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (2/2)

✭ Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) ♡ (1/3)

★Taking what’s not yours (2/3)

✭ Tell me how you hate me now (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Scientist! Reader) Drabble

✭ Theme park headcannons with Miguel

✭ Brat tamer Mafia Miguel ♡ Drabble

✭ Teachers in love (Husband! Teacher!Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Teacher!Reader) Drabble

blurbs

✭Baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara

★ Masterlist here

✭Bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara

★1 2 3 4 5 6

Series

✭ On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader[college AU]) series masterlist

★ extra dribble (it won’t let me add it to the series list for some reason)

✭ Love me or Hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x reader [HS Academic Rival AU]) series masterlist

Other

✭ Popstar x punk bodyguard Masterlist

[saint-ajax]

༒︎︎︎︎ OCT. 04 | MIGUEL O’HARA

༒︎︎︎︎ KINKTOBER

TW: 18+ | SOMNOPHILIA | TIE KINK | INAPPROPRIATE USE OF SPIDER WEBBING | JEALOUSY | POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR |POSSESSION SEX | MISOGYNY THEMES | MAFIA THEMES | ALTERNATE UNIVERSE | CHEATING IMPLIED | FORCED MARRIAGE | ORAL SEX | VAGINAL FINGERING | P IN V SEX | NOT PULLING OUT | SEMI-PUBLIC SEX | OUT OF CHARACTER

    Your story goes predictable. A hot headed mafia boss kidnaps a beautiful woman who can't escape him. As time passes you become his sex slave, the apple of his eye, the queen of the empire he built, the woman he is willing to burn the world for. 

    As much as you may try to deny it, you fell for the man who stole your freedom.

    But it just so happens that this particular mafia is an Irish-Latino, spider-bitten, with a vampire dentistry, topping it off with a muscular big build. Also, a caring, sweetest person as much as an aggressive man. That's the Miguel O'Hara you love. The man you know, worshiped, hated, and was forced to marry.

    You hate yourself as much as you hate him for taking your dreams away. You despise how much you love him. Unable to be repulsed by a dangerous, dangerous, man. 

    Yet, not always. You still get mad at him. A lot of times. But that's just your dynamic. You're mad at him so he eats you out, and you're all lovey-dovey again. Although, not this time around.

   You planned to surprise him at work today, bringing his favorite meal that you took the time to cook for, in spite of being a clueless damsel in the kitchen. 

   Only for you to find a woman with her tight skimpy skirt lifted up to her hips, exposing more than enough skin of her thighs to anger you. She was in the move to sit on Miguel's thighs. While he, the man in the sharp black suit comfortably sitting on his office chair, was only letting the woman do as she pleases.

   You've spent enough time in this office alone to memorize where the hidden guns were. A black leathered chair beside you has one on it. Since they didn't hear or feel your presence, you snatched it without hesitation. 

   They didn't even give a damn at the sound of the gun clocking. It was the perfect timing, she was sitting on his lap, leaning in to reach his face. And just as their faces close? You shot the space in between them. The window received the bullet you released, sticking to the first layer, an effective bulletproof window.

   The woman screamed. She covered her ears as she was startled. While Miguel didn't even blink. The moment you stepped inside the building, his spider sense tingled in the presence of his woman.

   “Oh my gosh! What was that?!”

   She looked around until she found you with your hands in air, index flat on the side of the trigger, eyes drained of emotion.

   “Gosh, woman! You could've shot me! Miguel, do something!”

   “Who… are you?” you mutter, eyes squinting at the oblivious woman.

   She was frustrated that Miguel was just watching the scene while she stood properly, fixed her clothes, mad and confused at your presence, identity, and actions.

   “Who are you? ”

   She threw back the question as if you're the one who needs to be known.

   “I’m his wife. And, you? What's your name putita?”

   Miguel couldn't help but smirk at the insult you threw, proud of your Spanish. 

   “What did you just call me?!” she asks in a totally offended tone with her hand on her chest.

   “Little whore.” You clarify. She gasps dramatically before marching towards you.

    “How dare you!” She yells before cocking her hand in position to slap you.

    “You touch her and you're dead.”

   Miguel's threat interrupted her. She looks at him as if she couldn't believe him while you just stare at her with one brow lifted.

   “You’ve spent enough time in my company. You’re fired.”

    “What?! You’re siding with her?!”

    You and Miguel frowned confusedly at her.

   “Did you not hear her? Ella es mi esposa, puta.”

    “You got a lot of nerve,” you state it to her. 

    She looks at you and back at Miguel before frustratingly leaving the room. “Ugh!”

    You walk towards his table, to drop the bag. “What the fuck was that?”

   You confront him. “You’re a cheater now?”

    “No. She's a flirt, so I let you handle her.”

   You nod simply, dropping the gun on his table. “I could've killed her.”

   “But you didn't.”

   “No, I didn't…” you agree. You walk over to his side while he swivels the chair to face you. You reach the spot of the window where your bullet stuck. You pull it to study it around your fingers.

    He reaches for your waist, but you catch his hand, opening his palm to place the bullet. “You have to understand the weight of this, Miguel.” He raised a brow at you, asking what you meant.

    “De qué estás hablando, mi esposa?”

   “I didn't kill her. But I would have.”

   “I do not see the problem.”

   “I'm not as innocent as you first took me.”

    He glares at you for the word you used. You smirk inside your head, knowing the guilt it brought him. “You’ve made me crazier. I’ve adapted to your dangerous life. You have to be careful with your actions. Or else who knows what I could've done to her?”

   “I’d prefer if you killed her.” You glare at him. 

    “That's not very nice.”

    “I'm not very nice.”

   “I won't be very nice to you too if I catch another woman latching on to you. Understood?”

    “Si, mami.”

    You lean into his face, caressing on his cheeks, tracing his strong jaw with your thumb. You let your hands roam down his abdomen to his crotch, after your speech, you made him hard. You smile at him, and act as if about to kiss him, when he opens his mouth to receive your lips, you mutter:

    “Don't get too cocky, I'm still mad at you.”

   He opens his eyes, to see your sharp glare.

𖤐

 

    “Where’s mi princesa?!” He barges in his own mansion, fuming in anger at everyone who crosses his path.

   “S- señor Miguel, señora O’Hara is in the masters bedroom.” Frightened maids bow at him as he marches past them in rage.

  He barges in your room only to find you sleeping soundly in the bed you both share.

    He eyes you down while he loosen his tie. He stands in front of the footboard as he takes off his suit jacket. His white long sleeves could barely seal his brawny chest and ripped muscles.

   He flings off the comforter keeping you warm as it reveals you in your cotton shirt and shorts that covers almost nothing. 

    He crawls down the bed as his big, rough, palm creeps up your legs. Until his hand lands on the band of your shorts, he effortlessly rips it off along with the thong, pieces of fabric landing across the floor. The icy atmosphere makes you squirm, while he forcibly opens your legs wide open. He dips his nose down to your core, inhaling your addictive scent.

    From there, he devours you like a starved man. Licking your insides like he owns you. As if you're his last meal. He holds down your squirming legs to fuck your pussy with his violent tongue. Shamelessly latching on your clit, dragging his tongue slowly and deeply from your gooey walls up to your silky clit. 

    He flicks his tongue rapidly, he hardens it and to shove it inside you and lap your sopping walls drenched in your divine juices.

   He kept slurping you. Munch your pussy repeatedly which makes you whimper. Bringing you to consciousness as he ate you like he's starved. 

    His intensive feasting doesn't falter. He adds his thick fingers, enough to make your tight pussy feel full. As he curls his fingers inside your slit, he pumps them in and out. This causes you to push his face deeper, legs shaking, and trapping his head in between you.

   Your mouth falls open as your back arch, feeling the sting of the few pricks of ecstasy.

    Your legs shake as he helps you climb your high. Chewing on your clit, molesting your hole with his skilled tongue and fingers. As your walls clench around him, you shudder and moan at the climax he delivers you. 

   Pleasure spreading through your veins as he keeps on worshiping your drench cunt.

   Your chest rises and falls as you calm down from the high while he laps you, cleaning your glistening pussy from your creamy sap.

    While he gets up, lips, chin and jaw dripping from your cunt.

   He pulls his zipper down, pulling out his heavy, full of load balls, stiff cock. Before the base of his dick touches your swollen clit, you grab him. You sit up and glare up at him.

    “You do not get to touch me, Miguel.” 

    He glares back at you, eyes narrowing at your behavior. “You don't tell me what to do. I touch what's mine.”

   “This pussy isn't yours, is it?”

    “Yes, it is.”

   “Unless it's attached to you, it's not yours. Get the hell out of my way.”

    He narrows his eyes at you and the act you're pulling.

    “Ahh… my hypocrite queen, cumming first before protesting from being fucked.”

   “You've taught me well.”

   You smirk at him before leaving the bed. As you open the door, just as you step outside, he has you pinned on the walls of the hallway. 

   “Stop being such a fucking tease, Mrs. O’Hara.”

   He growls at you. You roll your eyes as you moan in disgust. “God, I fucking hate that title.” 

   “You're getting on my fucking nerves, woman.”

   He shoots his web to bind your wrists, you gasp audibly. “Get this filthy thing off me!”

   He smirks and scoffs at your words. “You really testing me, huh?” He shoots another web on the ceiling and ties your bound wrists on it. He made you hang like a punching bag.

   “Put me down!” Soon he shoots another web to shut your mouth. Then he rips your thin shirt apart. Now bare naked hanging off the ceiling.

    “Now you look perfect.”

    He pulls down your hips, smacking your plump ass on the back before spreading them apart. He shoves in his long, thick, cock. You moan inaudibly now as he push in your slit. Stretching your delicate walls, reaching your gooey cervix as he pull down your waist. As if you're his own life-size fleshlight.

    While his dick drag a pleasurable sensation in you, it was still an uncomfortable position to be fucked in the air. While his strong, tall, build gives him the access to suck on your tits while pumping his cock with your pussy.

   His paces starts to get rocky. He tightens his grip on your waist as your cunt meets his thrusts. “Fucking delicious.” He groans each time your wet pussy engulfed his beefy cock.

    He smacks your ass, spanking them equally hard. He grips on your red cheeks marked with his palm, grabbing onto them to slam his tight balls deeper and harder into your core.

    You couldn't do anything but take his rough pounding. While you moan inaudibly, crying, whimpering, and shaking as he ram into you.

    He rests his face in-between your bouncing breasts, focusing his mouth on sucking on your hard nipples as he moan from the euphoric warmth your cunt delivers.

    “Your perfect cunt will be fucking full of my cum, esposa.”

    He mutters as he both of your mounds.

    “Fuck this pussy. I own this.”

    There's nothing stronger than the sense of ownership washing over him everytime he sees you, he fucks you, or kiss you. “Mrs. O’Hara’s all mine.”

    He buries his dick deep in your, reaching into your womb to finally shoot his another kind of warm web. While your legs shake, tears falling from the mix of pain, discomfort, and insane orgasm.

    He fills you up of his creamy load before continuing to thrust in and out, savoring the bliss of fucking your tight cunt. Then he traps the proof of sin inside you. Before he pulls out and kneels to watch your pussy drip the mix of your cum and his.

   He smiles at his masterpiece, dipping a finger to see the consistency of your mixed syrup.

   “Buckle up, brat. I'm gonna fuck you dumb. You hear me, mi hermosa putita?”

    You nod helplessly as you hang with your wrists above your head, tears falling down your flustered cheeks.

[lordkryze]

Why are all these Miguel O’Hara arts so iconic? I've never seen so many cool arts for any other character.

A Vampire, The phantom of the opera, Mafia boss, Arthur Morgan, Scream, etc.

You are keeping me alive.

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 6: Nerve

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs. 

TW: orgasm denial, fingering, degradation, tension, slow burn, Miguel is a dick again.

Your eyes searched Miguel’s face as he hung up the phone and tossed it behind him onto his couch without breaking his eye contact with you. You went through when you’d just said to your cold-blooded killer of a boss. 

You implied he had a small dick.

You were so dead. 

His grip on your wrist tightened and his expression became practically violent, as if you could see the lust for murder growing in him. 

“I told you to knock off that bratty attitude.” He hissed and your stomach dropped. “Now, I have to teach you a lesson.” “You’re on fucking crack if you think I’m going to be spoken to this way.” Your mouth spit out and your cheeks burned. You couldn’t hide it anymore, he was turning you on right now with how intimidating he was being, and you squeezed your thighs together while still trying to square your shoulders. 

You’d never had such a raw attraction to someone like you did in this moment, which was crazy because you couldn’t stand Miguel. Your hoe-bag boss with countless lives he’d taken. You hated everything he was, everything he stood for. How could he make you so wet?

His lips turned to a scowl as you instinctively staggered backwards, knees wobbling like a baby horse learning to walk. He pulled your arm up over his shoulder so your chest pressed to his and you fell into him with no hope of escape, now putting all of your weight on him to not fall. 

“I can see how much you like it when I reprimand you, how you get all flustered and red. So stop being a fucking pain in my ass or I’ll show you how red I can make your cheeks, and not the ones on that pretty fuckable face.” 

Your eyes widened at his words and you moved so your noses were almost touching, a challenging gaze forming in your eyes. 

“You think my face is fuckable?” You hinted and he growled in response. 

“You-” He whirled you around and threw your body on the couch with the same amount of energy he used to toss his phone, like you weighted the same as the technology now lost to the floor. You bounced a bit and he moved to the end of his couch, grabbing your ankle and yanking your body haphazardly down to meet his, making you yelp out in surprise from the abrupt movement. “So frustration, watching you parade around all day in those tight fucking skirts and heels.” He huffed, flipping you over before you could respond. Kneeing halfway onto the couch, he placed his knee on the other side of your thighs and kept you locked between his legs. His hand slid up your back and he pulled at the soft hair at the nape of your neck. Your back arched so his chest was inches away from your back and he whispered in your ear. 

“Say no right now, prove me wrong, and I’ll act like this never happened. Tell me you don’t want me to take you right here, right now, and I won’t.” His teeth grazed your skin and his breath was intoxicating against your throat, making you roll your shoulders to lean up into him more. 

“Say you want this. I need to hear it or I’ll stop.” He concluded and you huffed, not wanting to say it out loud and give into him. 

“Fine-” His hand loosened in your hair and you turned your head to the side to look at him, making him freeze. 

“I-I want it!” You rushed out and pouted stubbornly. His lips curved into a large smile and he yanked your hair harder, smacking your ass so hard that you felt tears form in the corner of your eyes from the one hit. A second and a third came fast as he chuckled. 

“Where are those wise-ass comments now? Nothing to say, brat?” He mocked you and you shook your head, trying to find some sort of come-back without sounding desperate. God, you needed him to touch you under your clothes, you needed to have him against you, skin to skin. 

“F-Fuck you, O’Hara.” You mumbled out and he stopped, smirking. 

“Is that an insult or are you telling me what you want?” He stayed with a smug expression on his face as his finger tugged aside your panties, thrusting into you with reckless abandon. You were more than wet enough for him to just finger-fuck you without any prep, but you weren’t expecting his digits to be so… large. Once again, you were reminded of how big he actually was. 

“Come on, talk to me with that bitchy little mouth of yours, I wanna hear you bark more at me like a fucking dog.” He was enjoying making fun of you, enjoying having you so compliant for once. His hands moved against you with speed, making you see stars far faster than you wanted to admit. He groaned and slipped his finger out of you once more to continue assaulting your ass with a multitude of hard, painful smacks. You groaned when he shoved his finger inside, accompanied by another and not taking the time for you to get used to the stretch. You let out a guttural sound and he leaned down to whisper. 

“Only well-behaved girls get my patience. You’ve made me mad, so you will take it and like it, no matter how hard and fast I fuck you.” 

His words went straight to your throbbing clit, making your body shake as an orgasm was about to blind you from pleasure. 

And then he stopped. He got off of you in a flash and you laid there, shaking as your high slowly dissipated. You looked up and saw him licking his fingers clean, a stoic expression on his face. 

“Miguel, what the fuck?” You barked once more and he raised a brow, obviously entertained by your upset reaction. 

“Did I say you could cum? Did you really think I’d let you cum after telling me you thought I had a small dick? No, not tonight. You get to go home and touch yourself to the idea of me fucking you, just like I have since you started running that nasty mouth of yours and bursting into my office.” He sat across from you now, stretching both arms over his chair and crossing a foot over his knee, showing off the boner he was rocking. 

And holy fucking shit, he was huge. Almost painful to imagine, as if a tree was growing in his pants right now. 

You felt yourself about to start drooling as you stared at his appendage without shame, then looking back at him with angry fire roaring in your eyes. 

“You are the worst.” 

“And yet here you are, craving my cock.” He shot back and you stood up, fixing your wrinkled clothing and storming towards his elevator. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t wear any underwear,” He called and you shot him a look of disbelief before he continued, “follow orders, and maybe I’ll let you cum.” 

“I’m not a fucking animal, jackass, I don’t follow the orders of you.” And with those words, you were gone. Slamming your finger into the lobby button, you folded your arms and immediately regretted that decision when your arm brushed against your hard, sensitive nipples. 

This sucked. 

The next day was annoying. Miguel didn’t call you once, didn’t even ride with you to work. 

Sitting in your office, you were doing bland, nothing paperwork when it was suddenly time for lunch, so you messaged Lyla and Jess to see if they wanted to get something together. Jess was busy, but Lyla immediately agreed. 

“What’s with your face?” She asked as you two waited in line for salads at some health food restaurant. 

“My face?”

“You’re all weird right now.” She poked your shoulder as you stepped forward in line. 

“Miguel makes me want to blow my fucking brains out. Everything is a secret or an issue, or a whore in his office or-” 

“What?” She gave you a look of confusion as you shook your head, relenting the topic and grabbing a salad bowl. “Listen, the big guy is a horn dog, I know that for sure, but he doesn’t normally have sex in the office. It’s a once a week thing, most of the time. He’s a workaholic, he doesn’t have time during the day to have sex.” 

Lyla’s words echoed in your head for a second and your blank face made her stop pouring her dressing to raise her brows. “How often do you find him having sex here?” 

“Once a day. At least.” You speak and check your watch, then pulling out your phone and scrolling through the schedule. “He has it scheduled for ten minutes from now.” 

“He schedules it?” She smiled and started laughing. “Oh, I need to see this.” 

“He says that you hire women who are married to deter him from sleepin with them.” You stated and waited for her to answer, but she just laughed. “Well- yes and no. It definitely helps him turn them down when they ask him to hook up or make moves on him, but it’s also because he doesn’t normally like sharing any woman he sleeps with. He hates the idea of her being in bed with any other guys-” She stops talking and thinks, then smiling again. “So that’s what he’s up to.” 

“What?” You ask again and she just bounces on her toes a bit, excited. 

“I have an idea and you’re gonna hate it, but I’m not letting you out of it.” She smirks and begins pressing buttons on her holographic watch, tapping Miguel’s name and watching the camera’s poop up. It's a live feed of his office. 

“Lyla, he’s gonna kill us-” 

“Not if he doesn’t find out.” She answers and stares at the tiny floating screen. Your eyes are glued to it as well, watching him bring the random woman into his office and lock the door. You both watch as he begins to maneuver her and finger her a bit, bending her over his desk and pushing her skirt above her hips. As he’s about to unzip his pants, Lyla taps his name below the screen and speaks. 

“Miguel, you’ve got a visitor on the ground level. Something about hitting your car?” She says into the speaker of his cameras, his eyes immediately becoming enraged and buckling his pants once more, stomping out without even helping the poor girl on his desk. Lyla rushes you to the elevator and hits his floor, watching him move through the cameras and see him getting into the opposite side elevator, before yanking your hand and pulling you into your own office. “He won’t even think of me hiding here this time.” 

“This time?” You ask, still out of breath from how fast the small girl walks. 

“Yeah, I used to do this to him all the time, but not while he was fucking around with the marketting team. I usually pranked him when he was trying to have lunch or cleaning his guns. Ya know, that mundane stuff. He hates being interrupted.” Lyla rambles on and you just nod. 

“Is he… gonna be mad at us?” 

“Yeah, for an hour or two, but then he’ll get some phone call to be mad at and he’ll forget it even happened.” She shrugged and sat on your desk. You sank into your computer chair and closed your eyes before you heard the door swing open, making you jump and Lyla smile. 

“Took you longer than usual.” Lyla spoke and jumped up, seeing Miguel with his chest heaving and eyes piercing past Lyla into you. “Distracted, boss man?” She teased and he shot her a glare before looking back at you. This made your back straighten up, crossing your legs. This made his eyes flicker between your pressed thighs and your nervous eyes. 

“Lyla, leave us alone.” 

“It was my idea, I swear! She just had your schedule and-” 

“I said go.” He repeated without even glancing at her, to which she gave you a defeated look and walked out. As the door shut behind her, you jumped a bit and felt your heart sink at the silence that followed. 

“Did you not understand what I said yesterday?” 

“It wasn’t my idea, I swear.” 

“You told her about the schedule, didn’t you?” He asked and you just nodded, shrinking under his towering form as he made his way closer to you. Your chair faced forward as he approached you from the side of your desk, avoiding looking at him now, but that made him even more irate. He spun your chair to face him and kept his hand on the back of the headrest, caging you in. 

“You did this on purpose.” 

“No! It wasn’t even my fault, you heard her say that-”

“She’ll say anything for those she wants to protect.” He answers and his eyes turn to slits as he leans further down. “And you love being a pain in my ass, interrupting me, frustrating me.” 

The gravel of his voice hit you, the familiar warmth beginning to make an appearance in your belly, making your breathing erratic as he searched your face for something. He knew what he was doing to you, he saw it as your hands gripped the sides of his chair while you tried not to break eye contact with him. 

This was a battle, a challenge of who could be in control. You defied him constantly, made him angry and made his dick hard with the way you always talked back. He was the most dangerous man in Nueva York, and you had the nerve to provoke him every time he directed you or reprimanded you. All for your own good, too, but you couldn’t just follow his orders, could you? 

“Maybe you need a different type of lesson.”

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[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 3

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

are we…lowkey…getting somewhere?

The flight wasn't as grueling as you thought it would've been, it was an eight-hour nonstop flight and you were lucky you went at night. You stared blankly out of the window, blinking at the stars. You didn't even realize that you were drifting away softly, your lashes fluttered and drooped and then everything went black, the soft hum of the jet reverberating in your ears as you slipped to sleep, sleeping for a dreamless night with your head in the literal clouds.

Miguel was quite literally nocturnal. He could never sleep at night, even if he wanted to and even if he tried. He pulled out his laptop and started working, going over some cooked-up books that his crooked accountant had given him. Maybe he was paranoid by triple-checking everything, he had gone through your background check multiple times and it still didn't feel enough, he still didn't feel like it was accurate to the character you were playing for him. Like a facade. Miguel was absorbed in his work, he didn't realize a few hours passed already. He still wasn't tired, and he wanted to avoid sleeping deeply for as long as he could- he couldn't be in a position where his bad dreams could get at him again. He frowned at the startling thought and downed the last of his Merlot. Your soft breathing made him break away for a moment, his head shifted to look at you and you were sound asleep. Your head rested to the side of you away from him and your hair was covering your face. Miguel hesitantly reached his hand to stroke away the strands that were blocking out your features, maybe he just wanted to check if you weren't awake, or maybe he just wanted to gawk at you without the consequence of your smart mouth or belittling stare- either way, he couldn't stop his fingers from brushing the hair away from your face. You breathed deeply and mumbled something incoherent that Miguel couldn't comprehend, Miguel felt you shift in your seat. He immediately retracted his hand, brows knitting together as he studied what you looked like in your natural form, when you weren't pretending to be someone else.

Again. He thought you looked nice. Miguel grunted softly at his ceaseless gaping, he was being ridiculous, staring at an attractive woman as if he'd never seen one before. He won't succumb to something as juvenile as this, his pressures lie elsewhere and he won't let his confusion around you cloud his thoughts to things that matter more. If he was being completely honest with himself, he needed some sort of vacation- he had grown tired of being on edge back home, looking over his shoulder, making sure to preserve what was his. How was he supposed to become more powerful and spread his influence if he was still looking after what he already had? It was startling for him to be in control of so many things at once, but as always, he pushed it down. There were still a few hours before you landed and Miguel didn't want to be engrossed by work anymore, he wasn't paying attention to it. He decided to pull out a book he still hadn't finished reading, he hadn't had time to indulge in such normal trivial things as reading. There were moments when you stirred and twisted in your sleep, surely you weren't comfortable in heels and a tight little dress but Miguel didn't want to meddle with you further. He's done more than enough.

-

“Hey.“

A soft gentle voice made your eyes scrunch.

“Hey, wake up. We're here.” The voice urged again.

Your lashes fluttered when you finally realized that it was Miguel. And that it was also Miguel who was had his hand on your face. You jolted awake, Miguel was next to you but it felt like he was so far away, you didn't realize how little it took for him to extend an arm and brush his fingers against you. The moonlight beamed through the pane, your groggy vision turning into a beautiful portrait of Miguel, illuminating every single feature of him, his brown hair turning honey as the Italian moon hit him perfectly. You shook your head and raised yourself on your seat, still not understanding how you could fall asleep in something so heinously uncomfortable, and even then you still resumed being graceful as always, you wouldn't let that appearance shatter, especially in front of Miguel. His presence itself didnt bother you but what went on in his head did.

Speaking of, Miguel's mind was whirring away but it drew to a blank

There was one thing he wanted to say though; 'Is this what we're doing? Just not talking to each other?’ Well. He preferred that to that polite small talk, you both kept on upholding, the thought made his skin crawl.

-

The drive to the complex was silent as per usual, but this time it was Miguel who was driving and you were in the front seat. His cars were expensive, his Audi RS Q8 wasn't an exception, it was a sinful amplification of the word money. You settled into the passenger seat, trying not to inspect every single inch of his car like a lost tourist, awing at the model but you contained it, your face expresser something akin to that of being unimpressed and uninterested, when in fact you were the complete opposite. The fact that you had to act this way just to not give Miguel the satisfaction wasn't difficult but inconvenient. You wanted to be yourself, but you didn't want to seem weak in front of him, you won't let that happen. Ever.

You breathed out, your fingers smoothing against the seatbelt, reminding you of the way he so easily trapped you in the plane, that hand keeping you in place. You couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched you like that, well, anyone who even touched you at all in the last few months. Your eyes couldn't help but glance over at him, sneaky eyes trailing over him, almost thickening the distance and tension between you- he was right here, but a million miles away. Miguel's hand slid over the wheel seamlessly, but you noticed his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto it. His jaw ticked as he let out a short frustrated breath, his gaze nothing more than penetrating as he glared at the window, completely unamused- his autopilot mood.

If only he wasn't blinded by rage and other primitive and frankly boring emotions- it was so predictable that it didn't phase you. You pursed your lips and stared outside the window, pensive and aloof as the night clouded your peripheral. the bleak darkness you were gazing at, seemed to reflect Miguel's mood more than anything and you didn't know how to confront this deep tension between you that was certainly getting thicker and thicker. Then your mouth ran before you could check it.

"You'll break it.”You said flatly, brimming with confidence by the way you squared your shoulders, surprised by your own voice thrumming out of your throat.

Miguel's head shifted to regard you. Oh wow, the church mouse finally roars. The fact that you're saying something at all, let alone something in a knowing tone made him halt in his tracks. You seemed so sure of yourself like you knew exactly what he could do. Like you had any idea who he was. Aw, honey. You didn't know anything. You needed to stop pretending like you did

"Hm?” Miguel mumbled impatiently, waiting for you to elaborate on your not-so-graceful statement.

“Don't grip so hard on the wheel. You'll break it.” You replied as if you were bored out of your mind, Miguel despised it entirely. His eyes turned into mere slits when they found his knuckles turning a pale white against the wheel, his veins turning thunderous and borderline pulsating with resigned anger he was used to but now since you pointed it out, he was becoming more aware of his actions than he was happy with. Miguel mostly kept to himself, but primitive emotions such as anger or frustration, creeped out of him slowly and etched at his features like a lingering poison.

"Hm. I see the only time you open your mouth is to critique me.” He replied with a soft snarl.

“I'm not criticizing you. I just don't want this ludicrously expensive car to break under your thumb.”

“I can afford another 10 of these.” Miguel's words ran off his tongue so smoothly you realized the point he was proving: he was extremely wealthy, he didn't need to care about things. It's something that you shouldn't forget. Miguel doesn't conserve material things, why should he? You shouldn't expect him to want to take care of his possessions, though you didn't realize how careless he actually was with it. you wouldn't have guessed a man as arrogant and careful as him within his work and his business to be so callous with his money, but then again- the money spent on a new car is a mere droplet within a river of riches. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You shot him a glare and that's when he muttered flatly, “Don't ever question that again, we clear?”

"Hm. And also, I have a brain and a mouth. When I don't want to talk I won't talk, I don't need to fill the silence with empty words, if I want to talk or call you out on something I will. Just because I don't entertain petty or better yet polite conversation doesn't mean I'm a wallflower or taker of shit, we clear?”

Miguel's face was set in an uncrackable scowl, his jaw ticked as you talked to him in such a patronizing way, it may have been deserved or it may have been a clear indication of your intentions- but either way, he didn't like the way you were talking.

“Careful.”

“We may be married but I will not answer to yo-“

He cut you off sternly with his hand reaching out and gripping your cheeks to close your mouth, it was a warning, the way he stared at you proved that, his hand proved harsher. “I said careful.” You let out a frustrated breath, struggling with your hands on his to pry his iron-like fingers off of your cheeks and chin. Miguel felt you struggle in your seat, hissing and thrashing but he remained unaffected, so completely normal about it all as he kept driving. He released his grip on you and you breathed out deeply, flashing him a look of surprise and hatred. He had a tendency to make people this way and he revelled in it. “Smart mouth...All bark, no bite….it can only get you so far. Remember that the next time you wanna try and lay into me Cariño.”

-

You remained embittered with Miguel when you got to the beachside apartment complex, you slammed the car door shut harshly, seemingly acting like him for not caring for his little playthings. If he didn’t care, why should you? He could tell by that look on your face you wouldn't be all polite and graceful after what he did. You didn't help him with the bags, you didn't care. The doorman let you in, informing you that the complex would be all yours for the week as he gave you the key. Miguel trudged behind you, carrying the bags up the stairs like they were feathers. You slammed the door in his face but he knee stopped it from closing fully, he knew that you were trying to prove a point and it was dancing on his nerves.

“I’m taking a shower and going to bed. Don’t even think about interrupting me for anything.” You spat out lowly, irritation causing your brows to knit together slightly. Miguel just grunted in response, dropping the bags on the floor gracelessly.

He hadn’t been to this beach house in a while, although it was thoroughly cleaned, it still felt lived in from when he was a kid living here with his family. Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the fond and somewhat nostalgic thought. Then his eyes flicked to the glass cabinet in the corner of the living room. He stepped closer and found the thoroughly familiar photos of him and Gabriel, playing. Careless as ever. He scoffed slightly with a little smile touching at his lips. It was a lot easier back then.

Now he has to deal with a pissed off wife, with a pretty mouth.

You explored the hallway first, walking down and vaguely peeping into every room, but you reached the master bedroom by the end of the hallway. You opened the door and found a beautiful room with a marble layout and wooden details, the balcony you stepped into was slightly protruding, looking out into the grassy planes, sandy beaches and palm trees. Something out of novel. The iron bars were covered in ivy and vines, shrubs and bushes of plenty alonside even more greenery. The moon shone onto the waves hauntingly, creating a halo onto the Earth.

It really was beautiful.

You shifted your head, raising an eyebrow at how big the white bed was, but you didn’t read into it. It’ll be just like it was at home- you and Miguel in seperate rooms, like always. Your heels clicked to the en suite and Jesus Christ, it was huge. Your eyes gleamed from corner to corner of the room, and then you reached the sink and immediately rolled your eyes.

Of course the best room in the building had to be Miguel’s.

There was a tiny frame sitting at the corner of his sink. It was of him holding Gabriel as a newborn, your vision turned sharp as you inspected the photo. Well. Miguel definitely had his boyish charm back then, a shame he doesn’t have it now. His smile would always remain a mystery to you. You settled the frame down and instead you eyed the copous bottles of cologne he had. Each more expensive than the last, as always.

Instead of just gawking around like a fool, you turned the shower on and immediately started stripping of this dress and heels you’ve been subjected too, you grabbed a fresh white towel and threw it to hand over the glass sliding door. You slipped in the shower, letting the warm water travel down every aching sore muscles, you hadn’t been this relieved in a long time.

Miguel, on the other hand, poured himself another incredibly strong scotch, he really needed to absolve himself of…something. He raked an exhausted hand over his face, he grabbed the whole bottle alongside the glass and trudged to his room begrudgingly, hoping to be rid of this night.

You wanted to keep the shower as brief as possible just so you could slip into bed sooner. Fuck. You didn’t bring your bag in here with you. Your shampoo was in it. Shit. You had to make do with what was around you, well, lucky for you, you only had Miguel’s shampoo around. With a defeated sigh, you had to go for it. As if this could get any worse.

You opened up the bottle and raised it to your nose, it smelled…dark? Cederwood. Coffee? Maybe a little bit of vanilla. That was just picking it apart, as a whole it the scent of it was just so… Miguel. Extra thickening? Interesting. Without caring, you squirted some into your palm and lathered it together with your hands, quickly soaking your hair and rubbing it softly into your scalp.

The bubbles surrounding you made the aroma that much more…intense.

Miguel heard the sound of the shower coming from his room, he wanted to grit his teeth until they shattered and fell into his hands. A frission of irritation thrummed at his temple. He swung open his bedroom door hurriedly with the might of one hand and exclaimed, “I swear to God if you’re in here I’m gonna-“

His feet stopped in their tracks. His mind went blank at what he was seeing. He was surprised he didn’t drop his damn scotch.

You going through his wardrobe in a tiny towel, legs dripping and glowing, hair wet and messy, glaring at him with a certain blank apprehension. Almost like a deer in headlights, but what could Miguel say? He was looking at you the exact same way.

-

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