#mafia!au miguel
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Miguel O’hara
mafia au fic, NOT proofread 🌚, no SA but implications of it almost happening.
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Your working in a run down old diner, somewhere on the corner of pine street. the smell of stale coffee and cooking oil fills the air.
this is not where you’d expected to end up, all though you didn’t mind it. The pay was..okay and atleast you got free food every shift, so it’s whatever.
the bell attached to the door rings as someone new enters the diner, their heavy footsteps clanking on the old floor as they move closer.
You look up to a man, obviously taller then most, his hair is messy and a bored expression plays on his face.
he sits down in front of you, letting his calloused hands rest on the counter as he does so. You eyes trail over the surface before slowly looking up to him.
“what can i get you sir?” you ask with a small cheery smile hovering on your face. “Coffee, one milk and no sugar.” he says in a rich tone, making you wonder if he always sounds like that. You nod slowly and turn around to prepare the bland drink, before placing it down in front of him.
“anything else?” you ask with a small smile before he shakes his head. “It’s not safe for you to be working alone this late.” he points out “I know, i know.” you nod along with a sheepish smile “but my manger doesn’t seem to agree.” you shrug.
he only huffs in response, you start to move away when a sudden loud noise rings through the air, immediately catching your attention as you turn toward the noise.
“don’t worry, it’s under control.” he says plainly, taking a sip of his freshly poured coffee before standing up with a sigh. “you just sit here pretty while i go clear some things up out there, yeah?” he opens his wallet, taking a 20 out and placing it on the counter in front of me. “thanks for the coffee.” he grumbles as you stand there with a nervous expression, as he walks away.
the little bell rings once again as the door is opened and shut. slowly, you make your way over to the door, peering out only to see him gone. and whoever made the loud shorting noises no where to be found either.
that was three nights ago, and you haven’t seen the suspicious man since. And honestly you were a bit thankful, danger wasn’t something you had wanted to find yourself involved in.
walking down the cold and empty street, your heels clicking on the concrete sidewalk as you made your way home from your late night shift.
every rustle in the bushes, or gust of wind knocking abandoned objects over only making you more paranoid as this wasn’t exactly the safest part of town.
Your legs move quicker as you try to escape the cold night, wanting nothing more to be home right now. Your thoughts distract you as you suddenly bump into someone.
your stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting the interaction before you fall into profusely apologizing.
“An honest mistake, i’m really sorry.” you mumble before looking up to the man..The Man who seems all too familiar.
“That’s alright.” he mumbles, looking down at you with a cold face. You stare at him, trying to remember who he was. “wait..oh, you came into the diner a few nights ago” you say with a intrigued expression painted on your face. “Did you ever find out what all that noise outside was?” you ask curiously.
“oh.” he pauses to think as he brushes a hand through his neat hair. “Nothing, just a small misunderstanding between some friends of mine.” he shrugs non chalantly, causing you to nod slowly, still a bit suspicious of the whole situation.
“It’s not safe to be out this late, thought I told you that” he mumbles digging through his pocket before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and taking one out.
he lights it and you just shift your weight, trying to figure out an answer to his statement. “Needa’ have a chat with your boss?” he asks, inhaling deeply.
you quickly shake your head. “No, it’s just uhm we’re short on employees right now. i just have to close up alone for a little while.” you shrug.
he lets out a low hum in response, always seeming a bit uninterested in whatever the topic was. “so..what about you?” you ask politely. “what are you doing here so late?” you blink curiously.
he lets the cigarette rest in his hands as he turns to face you, his strong face almost entrancing you. “some business.” he looks down, his eyes dragging over your figure slowly. “Just tying a few loose ends up, that’s all sweetheart.” he grumbles as faint yelling can be heard inside the building.
you finally take notice of the surroundings, a few expensive looking black cars parked out front of the building.
The shouting grew louder, followed by a loud shot. something that didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. You turn to look at him, wide eyed and worried, he only stared back coldly.
“Don’t worry about it, yeah?” he says with a chuckle, putting his cigarette out on the ground. “You heard nothin’ doll.”he stands up to his full height as two other men walk out of the building, one with a small cut across his face.
he looks up to the sky, studying the dark atmosphere. “You needa’ ride home? it’s late.” he asks looking back down to you.
you chew on your lip, not sure about getting in a car with a with someone you’d just met. “come on cariño, don’t wanna leave you alone out here in the dark.” he says in a sincere tone.
you let out a quiet hum in thought. “Okay, thank you” you mumble as he starts walking towards the vehicle.
you open the door and sit down, shutting it firmly and reaching for the seatbelt. “Where you goin’ too?” he asks, turning to face you.
you tell him the address to your apartment and the car engine roars to life, driving down the empty and dark road.
the radio plays mindlessly in the background as you look out the window. “How come you’re still workin in that shit hole?” he breaks the silence “Coffees less then decent and it’s dangerous for you to be around there at night.”
you sigh a little. “Not sure where else i would work, i don’t have much of an option.” You look over to him, his dark eyes staring down the road and his rough hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel.
he turns a corner and your apartment building comes into view, the front entrance dimly lit by the lamp posts.
he parks out front, turning the engine off and looking over at you. “let me give you a ride from now on, i’m in the area anyway.” he gives you a stern look “And i have no problem doin’ something extra to keep a sweet thing like you safe.” he grins at you.
you wet your lips, trying to think. Sure it would be great to not walk home in this dangerous area at night..but yet again-
“Don’t think about it too much, darlin” he pulls you away from your thoughts. “i’ll go by your work round’ 10, you can decide then.” he shrugs .
“okay?” he asks “okay.” you nod slowly before grabbing hold of your purse again and turning to open the car door. “thank you for the ride..” you trail off, realizing you don’t actually know his name.
“Miguel.” he finishes for you. “Y/N” you say with a sheepish smile before exiting the car and closing the door gently.
you walk into the lobby of your apartment, peering out the window as the car slowly drives away, And then he’s gone.
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The night passes quickly and you find yourself back at work, struggling to drag the trash outside. you let out a groan of annoyance.
“Need some help muñecita?” he chuckles, almost scaring the life out of you. “God! you scared me” you say dropping the bag on the ground harshly.
he hums and walks forward to pick the bag up out of your hand, swinging it into the trash bin with ease.
“your shift over?” he asks and you only nod, following him as he walks back towards the door of the diner.
you lock up the diner and stand out front of the building with him. “you want that ride yet?” he asks looking toward you.
you glance down at your shoes and back up to him. “yes please.” you mumble, following him to the car.
once again the engine roars to life, driving along the road. “hope you don’t mind, gotta stop by work.” he sighs “No, i don’t mind at all” you say politely as he nods.
You reach the large brick building and he motions for you to follow him inside. you walk along side him, into the luxurious building, your heels clicking on the marble floors.
he leads you to a sort of waiting room and assures you he’ll only be a moment before taking off.
a minute or so passes by before a man walks in, he’s short and round, with a grouchy look on his face.
a whistle escapes his mouth as he looks over to you, looking you up and down in a gross manner.
he takes short strides over to you, making you lean further back in the chair. you look around the quiet room nervously.
“what ya’ doin here, sugar?” he asks stroking his chin. “waiting for a friend.” you reply in a monotone voice.
“think i can keep ya’ company?” he chuckles, licking his lips. “no, that’s okay. i wouldn’t want to trouble you.” which only seems to earn another laugh from him.
“trust me sugar, it’d be no trouble.” he grumbles on. “it’s okay, really.” you try to tell him but he only seems to move closer, his hand now on your arm.
suddenly heavy footsteps can be heard approaching, before miguel walks in. A cold look covers his face, but it only seems to become sharper as he sees the man near you.
the man turns around, also hearing the footsteps and immediately backing off when he saw who it was.
“Boss! Was just..” he rambles nervously as he backs up. “get out.” Miguel warns and he quickly leaves the room.
Miguel’s face softens he turns to look at you, all worried and fidgeting with your hands. he walks up to you, a sorry expression on his face.
“you okay sweetheart? did he hurt you?” he asks, his gaze analyzing you. “i’m fine..” you mumble, quickly standing up.
“m’sorry muñecita, i’ll deal with him tomorrow.” he nods “promise.”
the two of you make your way to his car, he opens the door for you before getting in his side and turning the keys.
you lay your head on the seat tiredly, shifting in the seat to get comfortable, and out of the corner of your eye you see his grip tighten on the wheel.
you must have fallen asleep because you feel someone gently tapping on your shoulder, waking you up just enough to talk.
“we’re here” he mumbles softly. You let out a quiet hum, barely a response. you feel him unbuckling the seat belt and you instinctively latch onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
he lets out a quiet groan into your neck. “come on then” he chuckles, picking you up swiftly. you wrap your legs around him and he walks to the elevator.
you tell him your apartment number as he clicks the button and the doors shut. You shift in his arms slightly, trying to get more comfortable, which earns a groan from him.
“Gotta stop moving like that..” he grumbles in your ear, waking you up a lot.
the doors open to your floor and he steps out of the box, walking down the quiet hallway. he stops at your door and lowers you down to the floor, causing you to let out a dissatisfied whine to which he only chuckles.
you dig through your purse for the keys to your house, pulling them out and unlocking the door.
you turn around to face him, a tired pout on your face as you look up at his chiseled face.
he stares back down at you, a smug look covering his features. “you need to get to sleep sweetheart.” he says, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and leaning down toward you.
your eyes scan over his face. “mhm..” you hum out quietly, biting your lips slightly. “mhm.” he mimics you, his face creeping down to your neck as he places a soft kiss.
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rahhh anyway lemme know how you feel about this freaks AND if i should do a part two or wtv 😋
#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#mafia!au miguel#mafia!au#miguel spiderman#iminloveweveryone#oh no big bad mafia boss#sweet spot#this is cute#twirling my hair and giggling#cinammonwrites
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El Diablo Wears Prada
Mafia Boss! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Cucking, Forced Voyeurism, A bit of Dark Miguel, Dom! Miguel, P in V, Oral (F receiving) Face sitting, manhandling, mild knife play, criminal undertones, Implied mild exhibitionism, emotional distress, mentions of cheating, Dubious morals, implicit non-con oral at the end (M receiving). No proofread.
Summary: Tired of warnings and dialogues with your stubborn and corrupt husband, The Devil shows up at your home.
A/N: Had to get it out of me. jsksj. Finally. Enjoy (?) ❤️✨.
Pt. 2
From the many times people tried to persuade you from marrying your current husband, none of them were successful.
Massimo Bianchi. An important lawyer that had swooped you off your feet with his smile and Italian charisma.
People often told you that he wasn't good. None had to be a genius to know the man was in shady business as his main job was to defend the top dogs of corporate world. He didn't have to mingle with underworld criminals to know how they worked cause he was one.
Corrupt lawyer that always came out successful in his cases. But you remained on the shadows, blissfully ignorant of your husband's doings to the world. All you knew was that he was the head of his firm and that alone earned him a good chunk of money.
You thought him good, though your marriage had been cold for the last few years. Even though he spoiled you with things, you didn't want materialistic rewards. You wanted him.
A true fool. Your friends called you. Sometimes you truly wondered if it
was love or just that attachment that had grown over time? The kind that makes one so used to a person that their absence feels odd yet expected? You didn't know nor cared. As long as he kept coming home at night, things would be right. Everything would be fine and the fake illusion of a perfect marriage would keep playing in the background.
And it was. Until death threats kept coming into your mail. All of them saying the same.
Stay away.
Confrontations weren't really your thing, but the tension had turned so dense that arguments were the main course of everyday. Massimo refused to spill the beans as dread only kept growing inside your already rattled mind. Just like the death threats. All of them signed by El Diablo.
"Amore, he is none. Just a petty criminal that is pissed I'm locking up his associates."
Lies, lies and more lies.
A petty criminal wouldn't put you on edge, wouldn't make you feel watched. Cause in truth, wherever you went the feeling of being observed remained etched in every step you took.
"That's exactly what they want you to believe, cara mía. That's a tactic for scum like them to scare decent people like us."
You didn't pressed any further, rather save your breath. He was as closed as an hermetic safe box.
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To relax your nerves you decided to go shopping, and returned home with an idea that you were certain would rekindle the cold flame in your marriage. Massimo seemed way too busy in his work to make an approach, and when you wanted to initiate things, he'd just push you away with the excuse that he was exhausted.
And you were tired of toys and your hand. So, you took a bath, lathered your body in rich and delicious smelling oils, and slipped into an emerald green silk and velvet lingerie set you just bought.
You hid it all underneath a skin tight black dress that enhanced your body shape. Hair done in a messy yet sultry look, a subtle fem fatale makeup with a gorgeous shade of burgundy lips.
The sound of your husband's car breaking violently snapped your attention at the front door. Massimo bursted out through the door and you smiled.
"Hey, darling!"
"Pack your shit. We're leaving."
You frowned in confusion at his sudden panicky and antsy state. But most importantly his tone. Urgent, demanding and scared.
"W-What? Where are-"
"There is no time for questions! Just do as I tell you! Now!"
He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the bedroom.
"Massimo, you're scarying me. What's going on?!"
Bianchi groaned as he threw you on the bed, nose flaring in anger at your reluctance.
"Non hai sentito, stupida stronza? Fai quello che ti dico, cazzo!" (Didn't you hear, dumb bitch? Do as I fucking tell you!)
Your teary eyes widened at him, frantic and fumbling with the suitcases. Filling them with papers and valuable objects. Not even clothes, just things you were sure he treasured more than your marriage.
"MOVE IT!" He roared and you blinked away your tears, scrambling out of his sight. He muttered things you didn't understand much as he shoved more papers inside. You grabbed the first suitcase you found and filled in with the necessary.
The sound of cars breaking and revving into the pebbled porch of your luxurious home made Massimo to pull out a gun, you gasped and he ushered you to come closer. You kneeled next to him as he spoke in hushed whispers.
"No matter what happens, you remain silent okay?"
Your trembling hands clung to him as fear begun numbing your judgment. There was a collective round of car's doors slapping shut and footsteps that approached almost in scary synchronization.
"Go through the pool entrance, take this with you and leave. I'll see you in the other apartment"
"N-No, Massi-"
He kissed you, as he pushed a stack of documents further in your hands.
"No matter what, don't let them get this, ok?" His hushed whispers didn't help soothing your already fried nerves
"Massimo!"
"Go!"
He dispatched you with an angry growl, shaking legs scrambled once more ducking down the windows. You removed the heels as you crossed the manor, tears momentarily blurring your sight as you reached the pool. A shot in the air made you still, before you ran back inside.
A few shots and screaming voices followed you. The pained screams of your husband along some grunts made you whimper in fear. You hid behind the kitchen's large breakfast island as steps echoed ominously close. No matter in what direction you tried to go, the men, clad in black and red were there. Awaiting for their prey. Anything that moved.
The paper crumpled under your tight grip, and you covered your mouth, to remain as quiet as possible. Heavy steps retired from your area, and you exhaled in mild relief. Heart pumped hard with every passing beat, you snuck past the island to go back to the main entrance.
And just as you were about to taste freedom, the largest man you had ever seen, clad in a rich black suit and polished shoes, blocked your entrance with a stoic gaze that shifted into a shameless smirk upon seeing you.
Big, strong and long limbs trapped you against him as you cried and thrashed in a meek attempt to free yourself.
"Shh, shhh shh"
His nose nuzzled your neck and you stilled, tears rolled down your cheeks as he pointed a gun to your head. The cold metal against your temple made your breathings erratic.
"Tranquila, corazón. I'm not gonna hurt you." (Relax, sweetheart)
He dragged you to one of the many spare rooms in the house. A tall black woman with a frondous afro was finishing tying Massimo on the ground to then wipe away the blood caked in her brassed knuckles.
His handsome face littered in bruises, a blooming dark eye on his left, a busted lip and his broken nose was all that remained after the bravado he often boasted up. Your heart couldn't help but sink in further at the sight.
You tried to go to his side, but the man only tightened his grip on you.
"Mr. Bianchi."
The man holding you spoke, to then aim his gun to him.
"S-Stop! Please!"
He kissed you deeply as his hands handcuffed your hands back. The kiss was so fast you barely had time to digest it, just like everything that was happening around you.
"You really need to shut your pretty mouth for a bit, cariño."
"Hei! Lasciala!" (Hey! Leave her)
A blonde man kneed him in the stomach, knocking all the air out of Massimo as he doubled in pain.
"Stop!" You squealed in between hiccups. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. The papers you were given were long gone from your hands.
The woman with the afro smirked upon reading them.
"We got it, Miguel."
Massimo gulped at the name. Miguel O'Hara, one of the major criminal Don's in the underworld, El Diablo himself had came to his home to collect his reaps.
"I tried to be a reasonable man with you, Mr. Bianchi, but given your stubborn nature to cooperate and pay what's rightfully mine, I must take drastic measures for you to understand that I don't like being lied to."
Miguel made a sign for everyone to leave.
"M-Massi? What... What is he talking about?"
"You lie to your lovely wife?" His face turned one of disgust and his large feet pushed Massimo's head on the ground, his swollen cheek flattening against the expensive Prada shoes adorning Miguel's feet.
You only looked away as your husband groaned in pain despite Miguel holding back from hurting him seriously.
" You see, cariño. Your doting husband right here, has been fucking around with my associates."
He removed the outer layer of his suit and carefully laid it on a nearby chair.
"People that have worked hard for what they have and have come to me in dire need of protection against this... greedy coward."
Your eyes snapped back to Massimo as he kept folded in pain, his eyes adverted from you.
"Bribing the judges, increasing taxes, charging extra fees to those who need him? And not enough, this cabrón tiene los huevos para pedir dinero en mi nombre." (This fucker has the guts to collect money in my name.)
His meaty mouth clicked in disapproval.
"Is that true?"
He remained quiet, blood caking on his lips and chin.
"Massimo, look at me. Is that true?!"
"I'm really sorry you have to find out this way, preciosa. But don't you worry. I know he will pay."
Dread sunk in further at his words. If there was something you were so sure of, that if your life depended on it you wouldn't fear in risking it, is the little fact that your husband never really had the intention of paying debts.
A habit that stuck with him in your dating stage, something he never grew out of. And now the fatal consequences were only added in his karma balance.
"The hell I am!" Bianchi spat at his shoes, and Miguel, unbuttoned his shirt to then pull out a cigarette. He took a long drag. Cherry scent filled in your lungs as he blew the smoke in his direction.
"I'll put you behind bars, O'Hara!"
Miguel chuckled, showing his canines. One of the reasons of his nickname.
He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and crushed the ablaze end on your husband's forehead. A new groan of pain along a few Italian curses filled in the room.
You looked away, too scared and stunned to actually do something. What help could you possibly be? You were handcuffed, barefooted and emotionally all over the place. The many warnings about him finally weighing on your shoulders.
Your name was called between breathless and pained yelps, but you refused to acknowledge him.
"Let her go, please." You heard him, speak, but no words or pleas seemed to move Miguel. He just stared at Massimo with a bored expression as he crouched to meet his eyes.
"Hope you have told her that you cheated her with one of my favorite colleagues."
His words were the last stab you could handle, you broke in tears.
"I should kill you for that alone, but that would be too merciful of me."
Miguel stood up and prowled over you, his hands reached for your face and wiped away your tears carefully.
"I am a firm believer of 'An eye for an eye', Mr. Bianchi."
He removed the shirt, leaving his torso bare before you, eyes couldn't help but wander before retreating away, Miguel smirked.
"Are you?"
Massimo glared at him, heaving through the pain as he pulled a pocket knife and approached you.
"I'll have to make you a believer, then."
The sharp of the blade slid down your dress, enough to tear through the fabric covering your breasts. His lips pursed to give an appreciating whistle upon seeing your mounds clad in the velvety and silky texture of your lingerie.
" Con permiso, cariño." (Excuse me, darling)
Big hands took each a piece of fabric to tear the dress in half as you gasped and tried to scurry away from him. A hand grope your nape and you stilled.
One of his hands was big enough to pull you before your husband as the other one rested on the dip of your waist.
"Look at that. Por Dios... Was this a surprise for him?"
Upon your silence he squeezed your nape a bit tighter and you yelped.
"Y-Yes!"
"Too fucking bad he doesn't deserves it, right preciosa?"
"Don't you dare to touch her!"
Miguel nearly cackled at his measly threats. He took a couch and placed it before him. The coolness in the room made your skin crawl, but when he kissed your neck, an involuntary gasp left your lips.
"How long has been since this man touched you?"
His hands roamed your body, fingertips grazed your silky covered nipples as his other hand ghosted over your velvet clad pussy.
Another tiny whimper as he sat down on the couch, you were placed ontop of him, your thighs stretched, making to meet the width of his well sculpted ones, clad in fine wool. Hot and moist tongue caressed the upper part of your earlobe.
"M-Months"
You gulped and his touches stopped.
"You steal, you cheat and are a con man, yet you refuse to touch your wife? And me thinking I was the monster here."
He sat you in one of his thighs and pinched the bridge of his nose, an annoyed and incredulous look on his face.
"Lucky for you I'm in a good mood right now. Vamos a arreglar eso." (Let's fix that)
His hand cupped your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. Upon feeling his tongue invading your mouth, you recoiled but this only enticed him to snake his tongue around yours, sucking it and savoring you. The oils in your skin tickled his nose, a sweet and delicious scent that he'd often gift to his most prominent conquers.
But the way you had so dotingly prepared yourself for the cheating of a man you had for a husband, stirred something within him. You groaned as you demanded for air.
A thin dribble of his saliva connecting your mouths as hot pants fanned on eachother's lips.
He kneeled behind you and rolled your silk and velvet panties down your hips and knees. He tossed them away and bent you over, earning a yelp from you as your face was inches away from your alarmed husband.
"Don't" He shook his head and whispered. It came out like a silent plea that you ignored as Miguel sunk his face between your thighs from behind with a groan. Tongue teasing your mound, caressing softly at your clit.
You trembled and clenched your jaw to avoid moaning too loud. Shame spurted over your face in the shape of a bright red flush and a heavy feeling on your stomach. Big tanned thumbs spreaded your cheeks, to push himself deeper. His tongue lapped and teased; learning your skin's taste and texture that felt wonderful on his tongue and taste buds.
Wet and sloshing slurps made you pant and choke a moan as his hands grabbed your hips, exhorting them to use his handsome face as a seat. His tongue dribbled up and down your shivering and soaked flesh.
You groaned.
"Oh my god!" You mewled as you rode his face softly, "I-I'm so sorry!"
You spoke in between breathless pants as Miguel just moved your hips faster. Your mouth went slack and your needy breath fanned over your husband.
"Cara mía?" He'd whisper with pleading eyes but you were too enraptured in your brewing bliss. By instinct your hips seeked the movements of his tongue, chasing that relief only his mouth seemed to provide.
Legs quivered as they stood in their tip toes that curled in everytime he toyed with your clit. The smoothenes of his ministrations and the unceasing wet slurps he gave in your flesh, inched you closer and closer to the dangerous precipice of corruption and pleasure.
Another man was devouring you with such hunger you didn't think possible, as your lawful husband was forced to watch as you came right before him. It made your knees weak.
Eyes drooped before they clamped shut and your mouth hissed through panting and erratic breaths a needy Yes!
The guards outside the closed door were unfazed at Miguel’s antics. But the smirk on their faces were full of pride. El Diablo, their boss was someone people often had the misfortune of underestimate, until they were no longer laughing and rather plea for mercy or death, whichever came first.
Your hands behind your back slowly tingled as numbness spreaded upwards your arms.
Miguel separated himself and wiped his chin off your delicious slick and pulled the couch closer, he unzipped his pants and spreaded your thighs above his once more. Your chest heaved as you nested against his torso, fire licking your skin at the contact. The pocket knife was brought to your skin as he locked eyes with a disturbed yet aroused Massimo.
The tip of the sharp blades ran down up your torso, leaving a faint pink trail on it's wake, your breath hitching at the sensation until it reached the elastic lower band of your bra that held the cups together.
You didn't expected the quality elastic to give in so easily under the sharpness of a frail looking knife. Your breast spilled from the velvety green confinements and Miguel groaned while he hissed in delight at the sight.
He slapped your husband's face with a serious scowl
"Watch and learn how to treat a woman, cabrón."
Miguel fumbled with his pants and cotton briefs before releasing his aching and hard cock free. Bianchi adverted his eyes, embarrassed as defeat washed over him.
Miguel slapped the tip against your drenched folds, a cue for you to move your hips and smear more of your slick all over him before sinking in balls deep.
The intrusion felt delightful and painfully tight. Inner muscles clamped around him, making his head be thrown back, relishing not only at how hot and delicious you felt, but also at the feeling of your tightness trembling around him.
"Maldita sea preciosa, me estás matando". (Goddammit beautiful . You're killing me)
His hands hooked underneath the back of your knees, making you lean against him completely. Firm and cinnamon skin toned pecs supported your arching back.
Massimo couldn't help but peek under his disheveled hair and he nearly gasped at the sight. You were completely full and stretched at the size of his hefty cock. He could see your lower belly bulging a bit as his shaft rested within you. Bianchi was unable to look away, as emasculated as he felt.
A firm slap of his hips and it sent you curling your toes. Hips accommodated further in the single couch as his lips kissed your neck, canines grazing at your sensitive skin.
"So fucking tight f'me" He plunged you deeper, finally letting your walls meld to his size to then begin his slow thrusting. As much as he was dying to raw you silly, he had enough self control to be careful and not ruin you. That would come later.
It had been a long long time since he actually enjoyed having this kind of revenge. His eyes gave a quick glance to his beaten enemy and smirked in satisfaction when he noticed the bulge in between his imitation pants. Your hands fisted behind you, letting him to stretch you completely.
Your hips gave a soft rut, snapping his attention back to you, surprised you'd seek more of him.
His hands pushed your hips down onto him and your breast bounced. His eyes stalked yours, to assert his control, but you gave in so easily. Months of being untouched had made you a needy and sodden mess.
You were tired of your toys, and now that you had the real deal, it felt too good to let it slip. Things with your husband were surely done for anyways as fucked up as the situation was.
He'd probably be killed either way.
"Eyes on me, cariño" And just then, a sinful symphony of wet and merciless thrust fell upon you. Everytime he slid in made your pussy drool at his punishment. You cooed and stared at him with such a lovely and needy expression Miguel engraved in his mind.
Tears bit at the corner of your eyes as they drooped, taking your mind in this continuous trance of being torn between getting absolutely fucked out and coherent enough to give him a vocal reply like a moan or a praise and apologies to your voyeur.
"Cara mía, Don't do this to me" Bianchi shook his head in denial, but that only enticed Miguel to make it rougher.
Shy moans turned into shameless mewls and implorings that enticed him to ruin you at his contempt. The con man wished to cover his ears, but it was too delicious and forbidden to not indulge. Unavoidable too. Your pleas turned into lewd wailings and howlings. The tears and mascara long caked and dried on your cheeks.
Despite three years deep in marriage your husband would never care enough to leave you satisfied. It was everything about him, not really minding if you finished yourself by whatever means you found or thought right.
But this, this was pure torture. Sure, he didn't do anything to please you, but the thought of you being with another man always made him kick enough with the right amount of jealousy that would keep you satisfied for at least a couple of months while he kept ruining lives.
The slaps and Miguel's grunts turned desperate.
"Just like that! Yes!" You sobbed as his sac slapped against your clit, serving a good amount of punishment to your sensitive nub of nerves.
Your skin shook, breast bounced as you squirmed and twitched in absolute enjoyment.
"Like that, princesa?"
You nodded in between blown breaths, the pressure coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach. Menacing to snap at any second.
The sex and his Oud Wood by Tom Ford undertoned sweat made a puddle of your mind. Mouth gaped and shallow breaths came clenching through gritted teeth but he stopped just when you were about to greet God to release your hands from the back.
He pushed you on the floor on all your trembling fours, wool pants discarded completely, just as his CK briefs. Everything of him exuded with luxury. Even his rutting felt like an exotic meal you've tasted for the first time and you'd never go back to settle for anything less delicious and mind blowing than this.
But poor Massimo Bianchi was a reminder of your golden band that was wrapped around your ring finger.
Miguel's hand held tightly around the base of your neck, both hands melded at the size of your frail joint. both his feet planted on each side of you, caging you between his hips, and he sheathed once more in your already puffed and beaten pussy, making you yelp at the fullness and depth.
"Miguel!" You cried as your hands held on your husband's crossed legs. Your body lurched forward, meeting his cock in a merciless pace it had you bubbling like a total fool.
"I'm... Im sorry" A choked whimper, "Oh god, I'm so sorry Massi" Your mouth mumbled before Miguel squeezed your neck to keep you from apologizing to him, choking words in your gaping mouth.
He didn't deserve your regret, he deserved nothing. He wouldn't give him that much satisfaction.
"But it feels so good!"
You rasped and Miguel smiled darkly.
"Why don't you give him a farewell kiss, cariño?"
You shook your head and he frowned.
"No? Should I stop then?"
A whimper. Eyes twinkled in amusement as you reached for your husband and forced a kiss on him while El Diablo plowed remorselessly into you.
Bianchi could only whimper in pain as you bit his busted lip and kissed him, with a rough motion Miguel pulled you away from him. Your head far too gone into a place only he could reach. His panting and mumblings had turned borderline animalistic. He had praised you through it all and you were more than willing to comply.
Your body went taut, spent walls milked and creamed him as he cradled you against his torso. Body convulsed in bliss as he spilled his hot, sticky and big load inside your spasming walls. He laughed at your husband and at your dumb-bitch gone look.
He gave you a deep smooch before laying you on the couch. He slicked his hair back and caught his breath for a couple of minutes to then put on back his boxers. His eyes darted to an expectant Massimo.
Eyes wide. Still deciding between feeling horrified and happy for having such a twisted fantasy come true. A sick fuck through and through.
"I expect my payment within a month. More than enough time for you to collect what you owe me, Max."
Miguel purposely butchered his name as he threw his thousand dollars shirt you way.
"Put that on. We're taking a ride."
----
His men had escorted you back to his car. An armored black Bulletproof Lincoln Navigator SUV. House slippers was the only thing he had allowed you to get on your feet. The cold seemed to not affect his naked torso as he waltzed out your now wrecked home.
The cologne in his shirt stronger, as it covered your naked body from prying eyes.
"Get inside"
"N-No"
Miguel's nostrils flared in anger, despite the dazing and scrumptious raw fucking he put you through some moments ago, you knew he was a dangerous man.
"Why wouldn't you just-"
"-Ta madre, que entres al puto carro, mujer!" (Fucking shit, get into the fucking car, woman!)
His booming voice made you still with a frown. His temper switching surely made you confused. Tears welled up in your eyes, and seeing the sluggishness you took to get in, made him drag you inside himself, and sat beside you and sighed.
His sour mood was thanks to one of his men, Peter. He had the most awful timing to deliver news. One of his younger recruits had been shot. Not fatally shot, but surely would cost him a great chunk of money. Bribing judges to prevent him from sending him to prison, and medics through thirds would take some resources he was planning to use in another mission.
Miles G. Morales.
The name made his patience even shorter, and it didn't helped you were sniffling as your hands rubbed your ring despite the sore wrists.
After all he did to you you still thought about that cheating cuck?
No. He wouldn't allow it. Not when he has already found a perfect use for you.
As the ride begun he pulled up the middle window, blocking his sight from Ben as he drove. He made a couple of calls, you were recoiling away from him at every chance he tried to wipe your tears. Reject was something he was used to, that didn't mean it set right in his heart. And it showed as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock once more.
The calls ended and he tossed the phone back to the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out his gun to rest it on your temple.
Your eyes widened as he spoke.
"Clean it."
Fear clung to you as a new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks. But your mouth beat you to voice your true desires.
"No."
His brow quirked and smiled darkly once more. He grabbed your hair and pulled you down on your knees before him. Legs still recovered from the previous cucking session, not that he cared anyways. The SUV cabin was spacious enough for him to pull the stunt.
"Funny you think you have a saying, cariño. Now be a good girl and clean my fucking cock. You made a mess out it."
The gun was pressed further, the click of his safety removal made you gulp.
Was this the life that you'd get from now on? It couldn't be. Part of your brain refused to acknowledge him as your owner, but the other part was terrified and intrigued to see how all of this would unfold for you. You won't make things easy for him as he was already making it a living hell for you.
You mouth begun to work him as he pulled another cigarette and blew the smoke in your direction.
The Devil seemed pleased. For now.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#mafia au#t writes✨#mafia miguel#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x y/n#Something for kinktober I guess#kinktober
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Halloween Special🔮
Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader
cw : none! cry baby reader ig 😌
author's note : Tbh I almost delete this draft because of how boring it is (at least in my opinion). I got a better story idea midway of writing this but I don't have any time to redo so here you go. Sorry if it's too boring to read :)
"What is Halloween?" You asked as you laid on your stomach on a red fluffy sofa and scrolls through your pink phone (that he just bought for you) in his office.
"Halloween? Oh it's a celebration where you go around the neighborhood wearing stupid costumes and trick or treating people in order to collect candies." He said with a snarl. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he went trick or treating. But he does remember a childhood memory of him and Gabriel, walking in the middle of the night dressing up as Mario and Luigi. The memory of them laughing with mouthful of candies in their mouth.
You gasp, interrupting his train of thought. "I want to wear costumes! I never got to wear one before!" You said as you start skipping excitedly towards his working desk where he is sitting right now. "You? Want to wear costumes?" He look up at you through his lashes as if you just said an utterly stupid idea, not taking his reading glasses off before he continue working on some business paper on his desk.
You nodded, "Please... Pretty please?" Miguel ignores you and continue signing tons of paperworks that he needs to work on. "Is that a yes?" You asked again, hoping that he'll let you dress up for the up coming Halloween which is today. He stood up suddenly and starts walking towards the exit of his office. "Aww Miguel? Please??" You said as you follow behind him.
He kept ignoring you and kept walking towards the front door. "Miguel... Pleaseee? Just let me dress up this one time for Halloween." You kept begging and tugging on his sleeve while looking up at him with the biggest puppy eyes he has ever seen. He stopped in front of the door to put his coat and black frame red lens sunglasses on. Before looking down at you with an annoyed expression, "Lyla, help and make her whatever costume she wants." He said while looking at Lyla who's busy typing on her phone with her back leaning onto the nearest wall.
She rolled her eyes before standing up back straight. "Why me? I'm busy too you know?" She sneered as he looks at Miguel and crossing her arms in front of her chest. But he didn't say anything before walking out the door and driving away with some of his men.
You let out an exited squeak and your small fluffy bunny tail starts to wag in excitement before you turned to look at Lyla with a wide happy smile on your face. She let out a frustrated sigh and rubs her face with her palm before she looks at you, feeling defeated. "Come on you little ball of fur." You happily follows behind her towards the living room.
Miguel is sitting on the back seat of his car as his second man in command drives him to a meeting he needed to attend. "Cancel all the plans I have for this evening." He said while he lit up his cigarette. "Sir, but your schedule are packed today. You have several important meetings to attend to." The man behind the wheel said. "I don't care. I don't want to be interrupted for the rest of my evening." Miguel said after he puffed a cloud full of smoke from his mouth. "Is it because of Y/N?" The driver raised one of his eyebrows at Miguel and looked at him through the rear view mirror. Miguel was caught off guard from the question, he let out an offended scoff. "No. One more word out from your mouth and I'll cut your tongue off." He growls before the driver let out a satisfied chuckle and focus back on the road.
"So what do you want to dress up as, Y/N?" Lyla asked you as she tried to look up for costume references online with her phone. "I want to be umm what's the name of the little girl with red cloak?"
"Red cloak— Little red riding hood?" She said with an eyebrow raised at you. "Yes her! I want to dress up as her. I thought it would fit me." You said with a bright smile. "Why don't you just dress up as a bunny? You have the ears already right? Wouldn't that be easier?" She obviously doesn't want to make anything too complicated since this is not the part of her job, babysitting her boss's little girlfriend? Yeah right.
"But I want to be the little red riding hood..." You pouts, hoping that will make her change her mind. "Ugh fine. You're lucky you're so cute." She pinch your cheek softly before standing up. "Where are you going, Lyla?" You asked, wondering why she stood up suddenly. "You want a costume right? Don't you need some fabric for that?" She said as she walks to the front door and put her black leather jacket and her black motorcycle helmet on. "Right... Can I come with you?" She just sigh, "Y/N, Miguel will chop my head off if I let you out without his supervision. Just stay at home and wait okay?" Your bunny ears fall backwards from disappointment but you nodded anyway.
After she went out to buy some fabric and other things to help you make a costume she then came back to Miguel's masion. You spend the whole day with her making your costume using an old sewing machine she somehow found in Miguel's basement. Lyla made the red cloak and a matching little red riding hood inspired dress. She even bought a small brown basket to match your costume.
Miguel came back home right after you finished making the costumes you wanted. He entered the living room just to find it messy with fabrics everywhere. Lyla rests her head against the sofa's back pillows with her eyes closed. "You need to pay me extra for this you know?" She said still with her eyes closed. "Where is Y/N?" He asked, ignoring what she just said to him. But she just replied back with a shrug.
"Lyla—" He raised his voice before you hugged him from the back. "Miguel! You're back." He turned to look at you and his expression softens instantly. "What are you dressing up as?" He asked as an amused smile appeared across his face. You gave him a quick 360° spin to show your costume off to him. "Little red riding hood! Do you like it?"
The way your red cloak's hood covers your head, leaving your beautiful mostly adorable face for him to look at and the way your bunny ears are hidden by the hood. And how the matching dress Lyla made for you makes you look even more adorable to look at, it does suit you perfectly. His little red riding hood, he thought to himself. Deep down he's in love with how you look but he's too embarrassed to say it. "It looks okay."
You tilt your head to the side and took the hood off, exposing you bunny ears as it straightened back up like usual. "You... Don't like it?" You said with a sad tone which made Miguel regret his answer right away. "No— no. I do like it. You look... Good." Your face lit up right away, "You think so?" He just nodded, worried that another stupid word out of his mouth will make you upset.
You giggles and hug him tight. He got surprised by your sudden hug but he hugs you back any way, as gentle as possible. You then look up at him with the brightest smile that stole his heart every single time he looks at you smiling at him. You pull away before you jump a little to gave him a little kiss on the cheek. His face turned into a redder shade right away from your kiss which makes you giggle even more. Lyla rolled her eyes as she watches her boss getting flustered from a kiss that you just gave him. She cleared her throat to catch your attention, "Don't you have a surprise for Miguel, Y/N?"
"Right! I do have a surprise for you." You said before taking a small pile of clothing that you neatly folded from the living room table. "What is this?" He said before taking it from you. "A costume for you. I thought it might be even better if you dress up with me." He unfolded the clothing, trying to figure out what kind of costume it is. It looks like a pretty long black cape with red fabric in the inner side of the cape. "You want me to wear this?" He asked, unsure whether he wanted to accept your request or not. At the same time he doesn't want to hurt your feelings.
"Yes, it's a vampire costume— I mean cloak. I mean you just need to put that over your suit since your outfit is already kind of... Vampirey enough." You said sheepishly. "No. That's not going to happen." He fold the cloak and offers it back to you. "B— but I worked hard to make that cape for you... Please just wear it." You begs, trying to make him change his mind.
"Don't be such an asshole boss. She made it for you, at least wear it for her." Lyla jumped into the conversation because she feels bad if Miguel just turned down your hard work just like that. He look at you for a while before letting out a long and tired exhale, "Fine. I'll wear it. But just for today." Your face lit up once again as he wears the cape. "You know what will make the costume look better, Y/N? Fake fangs." She teased.
Instead, you took her teasing seriously and starts dragging Miguel with you towards his bedroom where you make him sat down in front of the mirror to put fake fangs on him. "Is this really necessary?" He pouts likes a child. "Mhm it is. It's Halloween after all." You said while you put the fangs on him without him complaining at all, different from usual. "I regret telling you anything about Halloween." He mumbles before checking himself on the mirror and taking a look at the fake fangs.
"So, what do you think?" Your eyes are focused on his reflection on the mirror. But he didn't answer, he just stares at you from the mirror. "Miguel, are you okay? Are you mad at me?" He starts walking towards you slowly with his brows knitted together, angry. "M— Miguel? What's wrong?" You backs away from him, you can feel fear surging through you veins from how different he acts all of the sudden.
The back of your legs are now pressed against the bed, leaving you no more room to escape. His eyes are looking down at you like a predator looking at it's prey. Now you know how much fear the little red riding hood must felt when she met the wolf in disguise. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears from how scared you felt at the moment. Your bunny ears fall backwards when you're feeling scared or nervous and you can feel your legs shaking in fear.
Miguel pounce at you, tackled you off your feet before your back landed on the bed. You screamed and put your hands in front of your face for protection. But to your surprise Miguel let out a laugh, "Can't believe you fall for that, little one." He said before smothering your face with kisses. "W—what?" You look up at him with fear, tears blurring your vision. "I was just messing with you. No need to get so worked up over it." He teased as he starts kissing your neck and nibbles on it gently.
"Why would you do that for?" You can't stop yourself from crying, some tears fell from your eyes before you wiped it all away. "Aww don't cry. Why are you crying?" He teases even more and move aside so you can get back up on your feet. You know how much of a tease he is when you two are in private, especially when he's in a very good mood. "You scared me." You said as you sat back up angrily before looking away from him.
He smirked and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead, "My bad, little one. Come on don't be mad, I was just toying with you." You look away from him with your hands crossed in front of your chest to show that you're mad at his joke. "Little one? Please talk to me. I'm sorry okay? I mean it." He motions your head to face him with his hand before caressing your chin with his thumb while looking at you with an apologetic expression. An idea came up in your head before your face softens a little, "I'll forgive you if you let me go trick or treating tonight." You said with a smirk, challenging him.
"Oh getting smarter aren't you. I like that. But no trick or treating. You know how dangerous it is at this hour, little one."
"Why? Everybody went outside already! I don't want to miss anything." You said with a small pout. "By me letting you dress up and even let myself dress up because you asked me to is a miracle itself, trust me."
"You're lame." You grumbled under your breath. "Care to repeat that? I don't think you're loud enough the first time you said it."
You ignore him and it's getting on his nerves but he's trying to keep himself calm for your sake. "It's getting late. Let's go downstairs and eat dinner."
Throughout the dinner you're awfully quiet and kept playing with your food, not eating any of it. He understood by now how pissed you are just because he didn't let you to go out. He didn't allowed you to do one thing that everybody does on Halloween and it's pissing you off, horribly. "Y/N, please just eat your food. I got you your favorite carrot, the freshest even. I know you're upset but you can't starve yourself like this." He said, trying to make you understand the situation better. "Look I know how pissed off you are by how I'm being overprotective. But you need to understand that this is for your own good." He kept trying to persuade you with his words. But you're too angry to listen. "You're just being selfish." You hissed at him, making his heart break.
He tried to think of a way to make you at least a little bit happier. He called one of his men to prepare something for you in order to make it up to you. "Look I know I can't let you out to go trick or treating. But I prepared a batch of candies outside my door so kids can take those. So, you won't missed out anything since you can still watch people coming by from inside the house. You can even greet them yourself if you want." He said with so much warmth in his voice. You stood up quicker than the speed of light, "Really? I can do that?!" He nods before you jumped at him to give him a big hug. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
"In one condition. You need to finish your dinner first." You nodded before eating your dinner as fast as you can before you rush towards the front door and sat by the window, waiting for anyone to come up to take candies from the big container full of candies.
Miguel just smiled as he watches you from the living room, your bunny tail waging in excitement. He's happy that you're happy and that's what matters the most for him. Paperworks waited for him upstairs so he went back inside his office to work while you're still sitting near the window with his sidekicks watching over you for him.
Hours has passed and he's still up in his office, busy until he heard a knock on his door. "Come in." Eyes still glued to his work, one of his sidekick enters his office. "Sir, it's Y/N. She's umm how do I explain this? She's been very quiet for the past hour and her ears— it's not standing up. You know what I mean?" He sigh before looking up from his paperwork to his sidekick. "Is she asleep?" He asked, tiredness filled his voice. "No I think she's crying..." Miguel rubs his eyes with his palms before rushing out from his office, "Oh for fuck's sake."
"Sir, don't you want to take that ridiculous costume off." His sidekick complaints, tugging on his vampire cloak that you made just for him. "Touch it one more time and I'll break your hands myself." He growls before his sidekick raised his hands up, off of the cape. "Sorry."
Miguel saw you weeping on the floor, still with your little red riding hood costume on. "Hey, little one. What's wrong?" He crouched down beside you just to find your face wet from tears. "I waited and waited for hours but nobody came... Why didn't they show up?"
Miguel didn't think about the fact that his mansion is just too scary for any kids— anyone to walk to his door and take some candies. "Look, maybe they didn't know there are candies there. We can try again next year okay?" He patted your back as an attempt to calm you down. "Is it my outfit? Did they not like my outfit?" You asked in between sobs, you couldn't believe all that hardwork you spend on making costumes are wasted just like that. "Of course not. You look gorgeous! Next year I promise we'll go out together on Halloween okay? So you can go trick or treating." You wipe your tears away and look up at him, "Promise?"
"Promise." He said before he pulls you into a hug. The hug lasted for quite a while before you let out a loud yawn. He laughs before pulling away from the hug, "Let's go to bed, little one. You look sleepy." He helps you to get back on your feet. "Don't people watch scary movies on Halloween? I haven't done that yet." You mumbles as you rub your eyes with the back of your hands. Miguel look up at his watch, the time is currently showing 11 PM. "It's past your bedtime and besides you wouldn't even last a second watching a horror movie."
"Just one movie... I promise I'll go to sleep right away." He never wanted you to stay too long after your bedtime but he let it slide this time. "One movie okay? Then you'll go to bed right away." You smile happily before you two made your way towards the living room then sat down on the sofa.
He turn the TV on, "What do you want to watch?" He asked as he sat down beside you, you're sitting down comfortably leaning over his massive build. "I want to watch horror movies!" He can tell just by how exited you are that you never watched any horror movie before. He shook his head with a smile before he picked any random movie for you to watch. His arms found it's way around your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his.
Five minutes into the movie and you're fast asleep, snoring softly with your ears falling to the side. He smiles to himself again before carrying you upstairs like a baby. He then put you down on his bed, he doesn't even bother to take your costume off since he know how much you like wearing it.
He planted a light kiss on your forehead, "Good night, my little red riding hood."
#hybrid reader#mafia fanfic#yandere miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#yandere mafia#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#mafia au#halloween#halloween special#yandere#yandere miguel x reader
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Mafia Boss Miguel O'Hara
#art#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#spiderman#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#fan art#mafia au
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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 softly 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 int 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.
Taglist
@whisperwispxx @eatally @moonvoidpng @unicornbabygremlin @chshiresins @iloveyouall234-blog @amber-content
#across the spiderverse#mafia#mafia au#miguel o'hara#miguel smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#yandere!miguel o’hara#stalker!miguel#stalker
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Maybe this will just be my trash one.
Mafia boss Miguel is here, guys! AHH!!! - ONGOING
1. Um ... yeah ...
Part 1 - the beginning
Part 2 - the car
Part 3 - the detectives
Part 4 - the contract
Part 5 - the clothes
2. Um, getting closer?
Part 1 - the divorce
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel fanfic#miguel smut#miguel x oc#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel ohara#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 fanfiction#spiderman 2099 smut#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x reader#mafia boss miguel#mafia au#miguel 2099#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel imagine
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Ok so I've been playing with Mel's Mafia Jake AI and it got me thinking about what Miguel would be like for some reason??? Dude's half Irish so like, maybe he's a boss in the Irish mob. Maybe he took over for his dad and he kind of hates it (has always hated it) but there's really nothing else for him so what can be do? So he goes about his life, about his business, runs his side of things well. He's lonely at the top but he ignores it, doesn't think anyone else would understand the pressure that's on him...
Until he meets you.
It's some celebration (maybe St. Patrick's Day or something idk) and he sees you across the room/bar/whatever and you lock eyes and have A Moment™️ and he decides he has to talk to you. So he does and you hit it off from the get go. You're smart, witty, funny, sexy...just the whole package. He's basically in love, okay?
Then a boss (maybe a rival heheee 👀) from another city or section (or whatever idk how they divide the city up tbh lmao maybe I should've done more research 😭) comes up and he finds out: you're his wife/girlfriend and it's just like a punch in the gut for him. He's devastated. He's never ever wanted anything anyone else had that he couldn't take...until you. Youre kinda bummed too, you really enjoyed the time you spent with Miguel, and you (honestly) aren't a huge fan of your husband/boyfriend (maybe he's an idiot or just a dick idk).
But you guys keep running into each other, and the feelings between you keep growing, until the tension breaks and you hook up with him at another get together (he takes you against a wall, fast and hard, his hand over your mouth because you're moaning as he pushes inside, the stretch of him divine and he buries his face in your neck, his cock spearing in and out of your wet heat in sloppy, hard thrusts. You're both coming in minutes, his spend dripping out of you and down your legs. The sight is almost enough to make him take you again).
After, you both say it was a mistake, that you can't do this again, it won't end well. But neither of you can help it, sneaking off to meet up in random places so no one catches you (except that one time it happened in your bed 🫢). And and and.... yeah. 🫣
I'M SO. SORRY SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED TODAY
OK FIRST, EVERYONE CHECK OUT THIS FAN ART BY @darkfoxkirin -- the mafia!mig of MY DREAMS
PLS WHITNEY:
Maybe he took over for his dad and he kind of hates it (has always hated it) but there's really nothing else for him so what can be do? -> i could literally imagine him sitting on a throne, bored as fuck like 😒 damn this SUCKS lolll
He's lonely at the top -> PLEASE THIS IS GIVING THE MAN WHO HAS EVERYTHING BUT IT'S STILL NOT ENOUGH -- I NEED HIM AHH
you lock eyes and have A Moment™️ and he decides he has to talk to you. -> the moment™️ KILLS ME LOLL, but YES a love or lust at first sight (spoiler, its both). not only does he need to talk to you, he needs you.
But you guys keep running into each other...-> HEY THIS WHOLE PARAGRAPPH, YOU DIDN'T NEED TO DO ME LIKE THAT 0-0, IM MELTING BRUV -- AND THEY KEEP MEETING 🫠
---
ok so imagine that he's getting pressured to marry someone because as the boss, he's expected to have an heir to keep the business in the family.
he agrees to meet up with some aristocratic women just to get his advisors off his ass. it's not like he's taking them home or anything, he's merely meeting them at one of the clubs he owns or getting some dinner.
of course, during one of these 'dates' he bumps into you and your husband.
looks like he's not the only one trying to keep a low profile during the affair.
even though your two gangs are rivals, your husband politely greets miguel (though anyone within a 5 mile radius can hear the venom that simmers below his words).
"Mr. O'Hara, what a surprise to see you here..." you roll your eyes at the dick measuring contest. men can be so --
"Likewise."
miguel doesn't even look at him, barely even acknowledges his existence with his murmured reply. he's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress and the necklace that sits against your chest. he gave you it a few weeks ago, the last time he could get you alone.
he tries to catch your eye but you're not looking back at him, you're looking at the girl who clings to his arm.
both of you barely register that your husband is still talking, eyes devouring the woman who's clearly confused by the tension in the restaurant.
"...and who is this lovely thing?"
"this? oh, this is m..." damn, he forgot. SHIT, he literally just read her file in the car before picking her up. this may not be a real date, but he's not a dick!
she saves him the embarrassment, "I'm Melissa, nice to meet you." she offers a hand, expecting a handshake, but your husband takes it for a kiss. gross. even melissa look weirded out.
"So you're finally out in the field again?"
miguel looks at you warily, but you've been avoiding his eyes during this whole interaction.
"You could say that."
"Good for you." your husband reaches out and holds your hands in his from across the small round table, "It's about time us bachelors settle down."
miguel's jaw clenches, watching how uncomfortable you are being touched by him. "Sure. Look it was great catching up, but me and Melinda have a table waiting."
#MAFIA!MIGUEL#mafia au#AHHH I LOVE IT#MOOTS#screaming with moots#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut
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Still haven’t found a story yet
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Run in with Royalty- Miguel x F!Reader
I'm gonna crank out as many fics before I start work again 😤 I've binged and reread some of my favorite mafia au fics recently (especially by @tarjapearce and @guilty-pleasures21), and it's honestly been one of my favorite tropes since high school. I wanted to shoot my shot at it, so we'll see where this goes
CW: mentions of violence, language, mdni, fem reader, smoking, author knows some Spanish
Miguel had goals and ambitions. He knew nearly everything and everyone, so when he had the opportunity for more, he had the resources to take it. Nothing could surprise him. He was on top. Or so he thought....
You sat on the marble balcony bored out of your mind--gazing at the forest scenery and getting too much fresh air in your lungs. You weren't sure how long it had been since your husband had died, but things should be calming down after all.
Wars between families were very unsightly and violent which is why they rarely occurred. It was better to hold grudges and make aggressive business moves rather than fill useful workers with lead. Most people understood that. But then again, businesses and territory does not grow without risk, and you have to be prepared for some loss. Just hopefully not your life.
There were many lessons that leaders were taught whether from others or their own experiences. You had those. So did your husband. However, your family was a bit traditional with certain things, so while you would have thrived on your own, a partner seemed like a good idea--could produce an heir too. Shame that didn't happen.
So you and your husband worked together to maintain and plan for growth. And things seemed to be going well. Until, they weren't.
For success, it's important to know when to continue and when to walk away. And that was a sense your husband never truly grasped. If he wanted something, he'd go after it no matter the loss. And that's not good business.
Things threatened to fall apart when he started going after arms dealers and connections in the east coast. He did not have the man power to deal with such a powerhouse.
And it cost him.
~~~
Miguel knew that there were only a few more knots to finish tying before he was done dealing with that dumbass that wanted to take over his business. He was still establishing himself as a qualified heir, but he assumed his next threat would come from a rival family--not a no-name from who knows where.
His men had tracked down the goons easily, and after some quick and messy interrogations, he had come to the scum's house to finish him off personally. It wasn't necessarily Miguel's style. He was trying to be more peaceful as a leader, but well...an example also needed to be made. People couldn't just come from across the country and attempt to steal what was his. He kept a tight grip on his empire.
The house seemed barely lived in. It was like a glorified mansion in the woods. There was nice furniture and sleek appliances. Nothing was toss around or disorganized as if the man was trying to flee.
That made Miguel's jaw twitch.
If this cabron actually thinks he hid himself from me- Miguel went up the stairs cautiously. His pointed leather shoes moved quietly on the marble floors, and his navy dress shirt clung onto him as he moved through the house alert and ready for anything.
The door to the master bedroom was cracked open. The light smell of floral smoke drifted to his nose, but there was a sickly undertone too. Miguel reached for his gun as he pushed the door opened. He pointed it out ready to confront his adversary.
He wasn't ready to be greeted with surprised sparkling eyes. A gorgeous woman sat on the balcony that looked over the lake. She was dressed in a lovely cream dress that popped against her skin. She sat up straight at a white garden table with a cup of tea in front of her and a book. She was definitely not expecting Miguel to be at the door. It would have looked like an awkward accidental encounter to anyone.
If not for the body that laid shot in between the two.
Miguel's eyes raced from the body back to the woman who was way too calm in this circumstance.
She met Miguel's gaze, and that's when a mischievous grin appeared on her face.
She placed a hand over her heart. "It seems you were looking for my husband. My apologies, but I think I beat you to the chase."
~~~
You licked your lips as you took in Mr. Miguel O'Hara. He definitely looked good in his working suit--deep blues and reds with webbing details and gold accents. You certainly appreciated the style. You took an inhale of your smoke before resting your head in your palm and grinned.
"Mrs. Giordano, I presume?"
You shrugged and giggled. "You can technically call me that." Miguel stepped further into room--gaze going between you and the corpse that laid was flat on its back. It seemed as if he had been taken by surprise. Miguel didn't put his gun away as he got closer. "You don't need that, Mr. O'Hara."
Miguel tightened up hearing his name. The gun didn't move. "You know who I am?"
You chuckled at that. "Of course I do! I don't go running around in other's playgrounds without knowing whose land I'm on." you turned at the body and sighed. "If only Lucci did the same."
Miguel couldn't care less about the man now. He was dead. That was taken care of. But you were proving to be an unexpected, unpredictable threat. "I didn't know Giordano had a wife." he slowly put his gun away.
You shrugged again. "That's fine. It pays to be in the shadows. You get to watch everyone else play. Take notes." you beamed as the man got closer. He was quite the looker. You could imagine him tearing through your husband's men with barely any effort. You wondered if his eyes glow in both lust and anger.
He stopped a few feet away. "Shame to hide a beautiful woman though. Were you missing your freedom?" It would do well for him to understand the moments leading to your husband's final moments. Was it simply a quarrel that got out of hand? Or something more serious?
You took a final pull before pressing your cigarette out. "Flirting with a recent widow?" you leaned back with a grin. "Have some manners."
Miguel eyed you more and noted the fire in yours. There was little remorse and lots of confidence. You were not just some housewife. Miguel could tell for sure. You were accustomed to this life some way or another, so you were definitely a threat to Miguel. "My apologies, I'm just a bit surprised, reina. I wasn't expect this...or you." he gently took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "Please call me Miguel."
"How charming," you chuckled, "well I wasn't expecting it either, but things happen when someone rages in and demands things from you." you went on and glanced back inside the room, "And well if you make threats, then its only appropriate to defend yourself."
Miguel nodded. "What kind of things?"
You shook your head as you raised your tea to your painted lips. "It's important to know people, guapo. You need to know who you're dealing with."
A notification rung, and Miguel glanced at his phone. "Well maybe we can get to know each other soon. I have a car, and my men are outside waiting."
"I'll pass."
Miguel scoffed. "It wasn't necessarily a suggestion, muñeca."
You laughed as you stood and wrapped your khaki coat around you. You reached inside and pulled out a card. "I know, but again, you do not know who you're dealing with. In the future, do not put myself in the same category as my late husband." you handed the card and took a step back.
"What the- Hey!" Miguel lurched forward a second after you flipped over the rail and down into the water. He didn't hear a splash and turned to see a motorboat starting up. Suits surrounded you as the boat began to speed away. "Fuck!" he groaned as he slammed his hands on the fence. You blew a kiss at the man and waved. Just who the hell is she?
~~~
"Remember Miguel: be a strong leader, don't let anyone walk over you ever. You will lead this family to greatness.
Never make enemies with the _____ Family."
The man grunted as he stared at the invitation in his hand. The paper was excellent quality with shiny gold lettering and black accents. He tapped it against his hand before pocketing it in his suit coat when his name was called.
"Thank you for coming. She will see you now."
Miguel grunted in response as he stood and entered the office.
This side of the country was a lot warmer this time of year. The clear windows allowed sunlight to pour in. The backdrop with desert mountains and bright blue skies reminded Miguel that he was not in the comfort of his city.
You looked up at the man with a soft smile before standing. You held out your hand to shake, but Miguel took it to place a chaste kiss.
"Still a charmer, I see." Miguel grinned and noted the ring on your finger before gently letting go. "Thank you for coming."
Miguel unbuttoned his coat as he took a seat. "I'd be a fool not to."
You tilted your head a little curiously. "Oh? Why is that?"
Don't play with me. "I was taught from early age not to make enemies with the Leaena Family." he checked you out as you sat comfortable across. "I never expected to meet them the way I did though."
You flashed your teeth with a grin--definitely prideful of your lineage and legacy. "Smart man. And yes, that was rather unfortunate. I was hoping to have made a calmer visit to the East, but well, you know how that went. Which is why you're here. I want to make amends. I've taken on a more active leadership role with my husband's passing. May God rest his soul."
Miguel grunted. "If he had threatened your life, I don't think he deserves the pleasantries. He was a fool to lose such a treasure."
"Jeez, I might just keep you here. I don't mind hearing those words from you." You hummed as yours eyes greedily took him in. "But back to business. We could benefit from working together. I'm sure you have your apprehensions, but I sincerely say that the actions of my dearly departed do not reflect the values of my family and operations."
Miguel huffed a laugh. "I don't really care about that anymore. You handled it privately. I'm more confused as to why you haven't been running the show since the beginning."
"The family tends to be a bit traditional--wanted male leaders and an heir. But after recent events, I'm sure you understand their change of heart." You smiled sweetly. You had more than proven yourself, and there weren't any immediate solutions to an empty head spot.
It drew Miguel in--a pretty, sweet face. You were strong too but more importantly a threat. There was not a lick of remorse or shock in your eyes when you looked at your husband's corpse even if there was an odd fondness voice when you talked about him. It was as if you shrugged his death to be just another incident--something unfortunate yet just a part of this lifestyle. If you could easily dispose of your husband for your own gain, then how would you treat your partners?
You reached into your desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. You slid it towards Miguel as you prepared your floral smokes. You took in a breath before continuing. "I know that there have been some issues securing some arms to Nueva York. It isn't necessarily my area of expertise, but I have some connections with shipping that is looking to get into the east coast market."
"That sounds more like a favor than partnership. I can patch the holes up fine, carino."
You kept your smile. "I'm sure you can, but considering it is Kingpin making those holes, I think you would like the support."
A twitch of the eye. Miguel had his suspicions, but he hadn't quite confirmed anything. How did you know this? Your information network couldn't have been that extensive.
"Mr. O'Hara, I'm going to let you in on a little secret." You tapped the ash tray before leaning forward almost bent over the desk. You rested your bosom on your folded arms, and it took a little too much effort for Miguel not to peek. You lowered your voice. "The only reason why my family and I haven't gone to the east to expand is simply because we don't like the winter." you chuckled.
Miguel's gaze shot up. "No soy idiota! No me vengas con tonterias "
You held up your hands before leaning back. "Just a little preference. I'm not threatening you. Please, I wouldn't be able to work in those snow storms, really." you pressed a button on your desk. "I'm very serious though. We would be able to support your operations, and if the time comes, I hope you will be there to help. Keep that folder and look it over." A man came in with black matte gift bag. Just from the sound of it against the desk, Miguel knew it was heavy. "Thank you for your time, again. I look forward to hearing your answer soon."
...
Miguel glared at the bag as it sat on the table in his hotel room. A bottle of his favorite liquor and a box of his celebratory cigars were in front.
Who the hell is this woman? Miguel knew his answer before he even got out the building, but he had to come up with a plan. He didn't quite trust you. You knew your stuff, of course! That wasn't the question. But he had to make sure he kept his assets and operations. This wasn't an up and coming boss. No, you were established. You were a mafia princess with the knowledge and resources to play the field and achieve nearly whatever you desired on a whim.
Miguel chuckled to himself before he reached for a crystal glass and poured himself a glass. He raised it a little with a smirk. Let the games begin, leona.
~~~
Aaahhh~ I wanted this to get spicy, but gosh I love worldbuilding so much. I hope you liked it. I'm not sure where else I want to go with this yet, but please maybe you'll enjoy my other fics in the meantime
Ciao~
#atsv#spiderman#miguel o'hara#mafia au#fem reader#black fem reader#miguel x you#spiderman 2099#mine#partyanimal167
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Miguel O’Hara
This is a part two to my first mafia!au Miguel fic, find it here
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Miguel pulled back, still looking smug at your heavy breathing and inability to stand still.
“goodnight sweetheart.” he says, before his usual expression is back on his face. He walks off down the hallway, as you only watch from the door.
you stand frozen for a moment, not sure what to make of the situation.
Eventually you make your way into your apartment, locking up and going to bed with the thought of him still on your mind.
Like he said, he shows up to your work. This time a little earlier and with a grin on his face.
“Your happy” you say to him, a smile playing on your face as you wipe down the counter.
he only nods, pulling out an envelope from his coat and placing it in front of you. “Got something for you.” he leans forward, pushing it closer to you.
You pick up the envelope curiously, inspecting it. “it wont hurt you muñeca.” he teases as you give him a look.
You open up the envelope and read the paper that was placed inside. It was..a job offer?
“Position opened up at my company.” he explains. “It’s an assistants job, nothin’ too difficult.”
He looks over at you expectantly. “well I..” you mumble, a bit unsure. “Promise you it’s better then here.” And he gets to keep an eye on you all day, but he wouldn’t tell you that.
You read over the contract slowly, eyes flicking between the words written down. “would i go for an interview soon or something?” you ask, looking back up to him.
He chuckles for a moment, finding something amusing. “You want it, the jobs yours.” he shrugs. “But..how i mean..they can’t possibly know if i’m qualified.”
“Don’t worry about it, yeah?” he sighs. “Come in monday morning, 7 am.”
And with that he drives you home, wishing you goodnight an expecting to see you in a few days time.
Time passes unexpectedly quick, making you jittery and nervous as you walk down the cold concrete sidewalk.
the fall leaves grace the sidewalk and crunch beneath your new heels. The heels you had worn for this special day.
a excited smile is plastered across your features, as you open the door to the building.
you walk into the lobby, a red head woman sat at the front desk, typing away on her computer.
you walk up to her, placing the envelope he’d given you yesterday on the counter.
“Hello! i’m here for the uh..assistants job” you say with a small smile planted on your face. She looks at you then to the envelope.
She grabs it, inspecting the paper inside before giving a nod and lifting her eyes to meet yours.
“You can go on up hun, top floor.” he says plainly as she slides a key card over to you. you give her a nod and slip the card into your pocket.
You ride the elevator all the way up. The door dings and you step out, examining every inch of the room. you walk in a bit further, the waiting area seems empty.
suddenly a girl pops out, a cheery aura surrounding her. She gives you a smile and walks over.
she introduces herself as lyla and walks you through what you need to know about the job.
soon after she leaves you, so here you sit alone in the office waiting for the boss to show up.
the elevator dings and unexpectedly out steps Miguel, although your happy to see him he looks cold, colder then usual.
“Miguel!” you chirp up, standing and walking over to him. he only gives you a sjde glance before continuing to walk to the office door.
“Oh uh, Miguel i don’t know if you can go in there..the boss is out.” you say, trailing behind him.
he lets out a chuckle, though you don’t think there’s much humor behind it. He opens the door to the office, sliding a key card to unlock it.
He walks in the shuts the door behind him, leaving you a little confused at his actions and mood.
you slowly walk back to your desk, sitting yourself down and going through work when the memory of the first time you’d been in this office pops up.
the man who was bothering you, when Miguel walked in he called him..boss. God how could you not remember, it was so obvious.
how could a man like him not be the boss here, and he’d gotten you a job so quickly, of course.
The rest of the shift passes, leaving only half an hour left. You had only seen Miguel a few times, and each time was similar to the last.
he was almost silent, giving you only short worded answer to any of your questions. And the way he held himself seem different too.
It wasn’t like before, when he so kindly offered to drive you from work everyday. No, now he seemed arrogant, cold and completely uninterested.
You’d wondered if you had upset him, maybe said something wrong or annoyed him in some way.
You’d scrolled through emails and documents, endlessly doing work before something popped up that Miguel actually needed to be informed of.
You dreaded it. Especially since he seemed to be mad right now, or at least pissed off. Regardless, this was now your job.
you wondered if he’d be like this all the time, if working here was one big mistake. Yet you still walk to the large office doors that, file in hand as you prepare yourself to face him.
You knock curtly on the door, waiting for the standard ‘come in’ before entering.
you look around as you do so, plaques covering the shelves and walls. Along with some other more personal items.
“what is it..” he grumbles, not even looking up from his work. You step forward placing the file on his desk.
“They said it was urgent” You point to the small stack of papers that were neatly placed inside. You stand around for a few moments waiting for him to say something more.
“That all?” he asks, reaching for the documents and leaning back. You only nod.
you look down to him, hoping for the sweet man you knew yesterday to re appear.
“Miguel,” you say as he lets out a hum. “Have I..made you mad or something?” you ask cautiously.
“Y/N, i’m busy.” he waves you off not even looking up before going back to his work.
“i know but, i’m just a bit confu-“
“Y/n i said i’m busy, fuck off and bother someone else.” he says harshly slamming the pen he was holding down.
you nod timidly and stare for a moment, unsure what to do.
he says nothing after that, only ignoring you and going back to what he was doing as you awkwardly walk out.
after the uncomfortable shift you find yourself walking home, The dull street lamps barley lighting your path.
A gust of wind passes you by, making you shiver, pulling your light coat tighter. You really needed to get a car..
after walking for a while your apartment building finally comes into view.
you enter your apartment, swinging your coat on a nearby chair and going to your bedroom to put on more comfortable clothes.
After an hour or so of lounging around, reading books and watching tv you decide to turn in, feeling a bit concerned about miguels behaviour keels you up all night, and by the time morning comes you don’t feel or look so good.
You stare in the mirror, tired written all over your face. you move through your morning routine like a sloth and eventually make it out the door. Although his change of attitude threw you off, you still couldn’t afford to lose this job by being late.
The elevator door opens with a ding as you step onto the top floor, where Miguel’s office is located.
Lyla gives you a concerned look as you walk up to her, but says nothing. She hands you a small stack of papers and asks you to bring them too the boss.
you push open the doors and silently walk over to his desk, he looks at you for a quick second before doing a double take.
Your about to walk away as Miguel grabs onto your arm, a worried look written on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, earning an eye roll from you. You mumble a quiet ‘mhm’ and try to walk away. To which he stands up.
he walks around the desk swiftly, standing directly in front of you. He reaches out to grab your hands with his own, but you move away quickly.
A disappointed look crosses his face but he leaves it and walks back to his desk, looking like a sad puppy with his tail tucked between his legs.
The day is coming to an end and Miguel’s patience has only gotten thinner, he’s snapping at everyone for anything he can think of.
you hear him barking orders at an assistant just as your packing up, sighing to yourself as you say goodbye to lyla and leave.
you arrived home an hour or so ago, lounging around and putting off making dinner.
that’s when your phone rings, you glance over and see miguel’s contact flash across the screen.
you honestly don’t really feel like talking to him, but he is your boss now so regardless you pick up.
the line is silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Then your hear a gruff voice.
“Y/n?” he says to which you stay silent “Y/n, say something please.” you groan internally before answering him.
“Hi miguel..” you say quietly as he sighs in relief. “do you need something?” you ask him.
“yeah i..” he pauses “i’m sorry muñeca, you know i never meant to treat you like that. That was..” he trails off as you cut his sentence short.
“why did you hire me? you had no reason too and you clearly don’t like me very much..” you mumble to the phone.
“what? sweetheart of course i like you, I’m..Im sorry, Somethin’ happened and m’no good at telling people i trust bout that sort of thing.”
you stay silent.
“please let me make it up to you, i’ll take you for dinner and we can talk bout it, how’s that’s sound huh?” he sighs “i want to spend more time with you and..and i for sure fucked up so please, let make it up.”
you smile a little at how persistent he is, and your sure he can hear it as you speak. “okay, fine” he lets out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you sweetheart, i’ll see you tomorrow at work, alright?” he clicks his tongue “And call me if ya need anything.”
you say yours goodbyes and hang up the phone
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this was in my drafts for so long and i just wanted to put it out so here you goo!
#mafia!au miguel#mafia miguel#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara x reader#miles morales#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#cinammonwrites
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Just to practice, Mafia vibes 🚬
#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#mafia#mafia au#fanservice#i guess#digital art#artist on tumblr#my maaaan#gonna practice more
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m’am you cant just post something juicy scrumptious like this her and then leave us horny and depressed here we demand an explanation or at least a preview of part 2 😭😭🤌🏽🤌🏽
Lemme update some fics and yeah 👀👀👀.
And long story short, he's putting you to a good use 😌
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what do we think about mafia!miguel?
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Seven-Legged Spider (possible series lmk)
Miguel O'Hara
tags ! mafia au, shit talking Taco Bell
WC.975
Barbie's Note... Sooooo, we're not going to talk about how I went afk for like so long, and I'm not going to give y'all some wild Wattpad Author story. I'm just gonna drop this on yall and if yall want more, give it some love please bc ngl I have shit planned for this🙏
For once in his 13 years of running his father's mafia, is he glad to be running it. Yes, it’s pretty depressing to be doing something you don’t like for so long, but he knew what he was getting into the moment his father asked if he wanted to take over. Or more so told him he’d be taking over. Otherwise, the business would have been given to his half-brother Gabriel O’Hara and that was just a no in his father’s eyes. So Miguel had to throw away his aspirations of being an astronaut and take one for the team. But why bitch about it now when things are finally getting good and interesting?
He dims the lights in his study before logging into his computer. For a solid eight minutes and counting, he’s just clicking around, looking for the application that allows him access to his employee’s body cams. He’s on the verge of summoning his virtual assistant Lyla to explain something she already explained (which she loves to tease him for and he hates) when he eventually remembers that it’s not accessible on his homepage but through a locked website she whipped up. With his technical difficulties out of the way, he clicks on the ‘Miles Morales Body Cam’ link to see the advancement of their mission. Much to his disapproval, it looks like his team has made zero progress because they stopped by Taco Bell for simple, bland, and disgusting cheesy bean burritos that would have tasted better homemade with nacho fries and watered-down Baja Blast slushies. An absolutely overpriced and gut-wrenching meal made by, in his opinion, the worst fast food place in all of Nueva York. The site doesn’t make him as mad as it should, in fact, it only ruins his mood by ten percent.
He leans back in his Pu leather office chair, wristwatch coming to his lips as he converses with his virtual assistant. “Lyla, I’m sure you’re seeing what I’m seeing. Tell them to get to it.” He orders, his voice low and calm, but not without base to show that he’s serious. “Already on it!” The hologram says back, her voice chipper but adult-like, almost a complete contrast compared to Miguel.
The message is relayed, and he watches patiently as the group transitions from munching on mediocre slapped-together burritos to bagging up everything in sight the moment Lyla’s holographic form appears on Hobie’s wristwatch. “Hey, y’all! Hahaha, no need to be so scared, it’s only me.” They all sigh, “And Miguel…” They tense up again, “Yeah, he can see everything you’re doing right now, and let’s just say he is not too pleased. So can we maybe stop whatever this lunch date is and get on with the mission? Please and thank you. Oh yeah, and if you guys are going to do some sneaky stuff at least turn off your body cams. How else do you think he found out?” Lyla then disappears before static engulfs his screen once they figure out it’s Miles who forgot to turn his body cam off.
—
Miguel sits tired and unamused at his computer for what seems like forever until all four of the group’s body cams switch on and they’re trying to figure out a way into someone's house. Five valuable minutes fly by and they still haven’t found an open window, unlit chimney, or semi-clean crawl space. Only then does he realize the glowing red flashing icon on the bottom of Gwen’s frame, signaling that there is noise coming from her mic. He reaches into his locked desk for his recently charged earpiece and pushes it into his ear.
An audio chatline with Gwen Stacey/ Miguel O’Hara has been opened. It recites on both lines.
“Ah! Finally, you answered. Anyway, we’re having a bit of trouble finding a way in.” She voices out of breath, hands on the top of her head to up the intake of oxygen in her lungs. Miguel takes a fair look at their situation from all the cameras until brewing a solution and shares the private audio chat line with everyone else. “Make one.” Movement from all four cameras stops, mostly in confusion but some in exhaustion. “Make a way in.” He elaborates, “I didn’t send the youngest of team nine on a mission for shits and giggles. I know you guys can get creative with the tools in the trunk. That’s what they’re there for.” Seeming more like a pep talk than an order, they get to work with a crowbar, plunger, some flat-head screwdrivers, and a better attitude.
Miles and Pavitr give Gwen a leg up to a second-story window with Hobie standing a couple of feet behind in case she falls. “Screwdriver.” She says, her hand coming off of the window and down to retrieve her item. She begins wedging the flat head of the utensil under the bottom and wiggling it in. The window comes up easier than she expected until she realizes, it’s unlocked, but not pushed up far enough for her fingers to fit. She hands back the screwdriver and asks for the plunger, only then does she successfully get the window open after sticking it to the glass and pushing it up.
“Good, now-” Miguel starts but is abruptly stopped by the very familiar sound of metal clanking together, catching the attention of everyone.
The camera pans up when Gwen looks to where the noise is coming from, only to be met with the barrel of a gun pointed between her eyes held by one of the prettiest women she’s seen in her lifetime. (Even if that isn’t very long.) Everyone freezes in hopes that the woman doesn’t have a trigger-happy trigger finger otherwise, this might be the last time they see Gwen. She spits out,
“Who the fuck are you?”
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Scenes from a Marriage
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x OC
Summary: The first of many scenes from the marriage of Liberty and Miguel O'Hara. Their marriage is one of duty and union and not one born out of love and respect for one another. . Forced into marriage for political gain, they struggle to find common ground and understanding. Their relationship is marked by emotional distance, and a sense of being trapped in roles they never wanted.
This is a Mafia Au version of the pairing
~~~ Art Credit to @paprika_not_found on instagram~~~
Liberty and Miguel stood facing each other, the air heavy with tension and frustration. Liberty, her rounded belly a visible testament to her pregnancy, crossed her arms over her chest as she glared defiantly at her husband.
"I've told you a thousand times, Miguel," she began, her voice laced with irritation. "I am not moving into your room. I need my own space."
Miguel's jaw clenched with frustration as his eyes flicked over to her towering form , his hands busy screwing in a screw to the wooden crib. "But Gabriella needs a nursery," he argued, his tone pleading yet firm. "She can't sleep in your room forever. We need to start preparing for her arrival."
Liberty shook her head, her rollers bouncing with the movement as she stood her ground. "I don't care," she snapped, her voice rising with anger. "I am not giving up my room just so Gabriella can have a nursery. She can sleep in a bassinet in my room for the first few months, just like every other baby."
Miguel's frustration boiled over as he readjusted his body to face his defiant wife, his voice rising in volume slightly as he spoke, "This is not just about Gabriella, Liberty! This is about us, about our family! We need to start acting like parents, like a married couple, not two strangers living under the same roof!"
Liberty's words cut through the air like a knife, each syllable laden with the weight of years of pent-up frustration. "We are strangers to one another, Miguel," she declared, her voice trembling with emotion. "I barely know you."
Miguel's face fell at her admission, his own frustration giving way to a sense of hurt and sadness. "But we're married, Liberty," he protested, his voice tinged with desperation. "We're supposed to be in this together, as partners."
Liberty's face scrunched as she tried to keep her temper in check, her arms falling from their position underneath her chest. "Being married doesn't automatically make us friends, Miguel," she snapped, her words sharp with frustration. "You have tried so hard to be my husband, but you have never tried to be my friend. I'm so sick of fighting with you, of feeling like I'm constantly battling against you."
Her chest heaved with emotion as she struggled to keep her composure, her hands finding their way to her chest as she tried to get her husband to understand her. "I've been married to a man who has refused to respect me and my autonomy for the past five years," she continued, her voice strained with emotion. "Do you have any idea how much that hurts me?"
Miguel's frustration mounted as Liberty pulled away from him both emotionally and physically, her words cutting deep into his heart. "But I'm just trying to do what's best for you, for us, for our growing family," he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.
Liberty's eyes hardened as she met his gaze, her resolve unwavering. "And how do you know what's best for me, Miguel?" she countered, her voice sharp with bitterness. "What do you know about my happiness?"
As Miguel's pleas for a united front grew louder, Liberty could feel herself withdrawing further and further away, both emotionally and physically. Miguel rose to his feet from off of her bedroom floor.
"You're suffocating me, Miguel," Liberty declared, her voice tinged with a mixture of anger and despair. "I can't keep living like this, always feeling like I'm trapped in a cage with no way out."
Miguel's eyes widened in disbelief at her words, his own frustration boiling over as he shouted, "I'm just trying to protect my family, Liberty! Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to want what's best for us, for Gabriella?"
Liberty shook her head once more, her curlers clacked against one another with the movement as she stepped further away from him, her hands up, her palms facing outward. Her posture leaned forward into the charged space between them "Our vows were forced upon us, Miguel," she snapped, her voice filled with bitterness. "We never had a choice in this marriage, and now... now we're paying the price for it."
The truth of her words hung heavily in the air between them, a painful reminder of the harsh reality of their situation. Miguel's facade of the dutiful husband cracked, his true colors shining through as he lashed out in frustration.
"You think I wanted this?" he shouted, his voice filled with anger and hurt. "You think I wanted to be trapped in a loveless marriage, to spend my days trying to please a woman who barely even knows me?"
The venom in his words cut deep, tearing at Liberty's already fragile resolve. Her eyebrows furrowed at his words as her face twisted with disbelief and anger.
"You think I want to be stuck playing house with such a weak man?" Liberty's voice echoed through the room, each word dripping with scorn as she glared at Miguel, her fists clenched tightly around the delicate fabric of her maternity nightgown. "I never asked you to please me, in fact, the only thing I've ever asked you for was space and you fucking refused to give it to me."
Miguel's face contorted with anger at her words, his own frustration boiling over as he stepped towards her, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Liberty," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I have tried to be patient with you, to give you what you need, but you push me away at every turn."
Liberty's eyes flashed with defiance as she met his gaze, her voice rising in intensity as she continued, "You call this patience? You call forcing me to play the part of a happy wife in this sham of a marriage, I never wanted, patience? You have no idea what I've had to endure, Miguel, You couldn't even fathom how much I've had to sacrifice for the sake of our family."
Miguel's jaw clenched with frustration, his temper flaring as he shot back, "And what about me, Liberty? What about what I've sacrificed? I've given up my needs and my desires. You act like I'm the only one who's ever been unhappy in this marriage."
But Liberty was already rolling her eyes and reassuming her defensive stance as she shouted back, "You don't get to play the victim here, Miguel. You made your bed when you agreed to this sham of a marriage, and now you have to lie in it." With a scoff, she starts.
"I told you early on in our marriage to find someone who will love you and who wants you, but you refused so now here we are four fucking years later, having the same stupid argument over and over again." Liberty's voice wreaked of anger as her frustration grew. She paced the small area of her room that was still only hers, her words sharp and cutting. "I never wanted this, Miguel. I never wanted you. But you couldn't accept it."
Miguel's face twisted with anger at her words, his hand on his own chest, emphasizing the importance of his words as he shot back, You think I enjoy feeling like I'm constantly walking on eggshells around you?" Miguel's frustration boiled over at her words, his temper flaring as he stepped towards her, his voice rising in volume. "I am tired of you blaming me for everything, Liberty," he growled, his eyes flashing with anger. "I have tried to be patient, to be understanding, but you refuse to meet me halfway."
But Liberty was beyond listening, her own anger clouding her judgment as she shouted back, "There is no halfway, Miguel. Not in a marriage that was built on nothing but obligation."
Miguel's expression softened momentarily at the pain in her voice, but it quickly hardened again as he retorted, "I've tried, Liberty. I've tried to understand you, to support you, but you push me away at every turn. How am I supposed to help you if you won't let me in?"
Liberty's lip curled in a bitter sneer as she shot back, "Help me? You want to help me? Then start by giving me the one thing I've been asking for since day one – space. Let me breathe, Miguel. Let me be myself without constantly suffocating under the weight of your expectations."
Miguel's jaw clenched with frustration as he struggled to find the right words, his own emotions bubbled to the surface. "I just want us to be happy, Liberty," he admitted.
"I want us to be a family, to raise our daughter together. Is that too much to ask?"
But Liberty's eyes flashed with anger as she stepped closer to her husband. "You don't get to dictate what happiness looks like for me, Miguel," she declared, her voice filled with determination. "I will not sacrifice my own sanity and well-being for the sake of your idea of a perfect family. Not anymore. I'm Done."
With a final glare at Miguel, Liberty turned on her heel and stormed out of her bedroom, leaving Miguel standing alone amidst the scattered pieces of the crib he had been attempting to assemble for their incoming baby. The silence that had settled over the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own frustrated sighs as he sank onto the edge of Liberty's neatly made bed.
As he stared at the half-finished crib, his mind whirled with a tumult of emotions – anger, frustration, but also a deep-seated sadness that threatened to consume him whole. He knew he had messed up, and had pushed Liberty too far with his relentless insistence on their version of a perfect family.
But as he looked around Liberty's room, the reality of their fractured marriage crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. He had wanted nothing more than to be a good husband, and hopefully a good father, but it seemed like no matter what he did, he only ended up pushing Liberty further away.
With a heavy heart, Miguel rose from the bed and began to work on building his daughter's crib, his hands moving mechanically as he tried to focus on the task at hand. But he couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach – the feeling that he never had the woman he loved, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#Mafia au#oc x canon#oc x cc#Troubled marriage#miguel o hara#spiderverse oc#across the spiderverse#spidersona#Not proof read
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Messy Hands - Part One
Pairing: Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader AFAB
Word count: +4.3k
Summary: Miguel is having a rough time keeping himself in check. He’s getting angrier and just wants his dues. Besides, mob protection is so hard to come by these days. Unfortunately though, you might be under his “protection” now.
CW: 18+ so MDNI, NSFW. Mentions of blood, gore, violence, guns, criminal undertones, death, choking, murder, language, slow burn, eventual smut, no use of y/n
AN: So this is my first fic EVER. Idk what I’m doing so forgive me. I speak some Spanish but not that well so sorry in advance.
There’s a scent that hangs in the air of the warehouse. The hefty and pungent stench of iron and salt wafting through, sticking to the walls. Blood splatters as it’s coughed up onto the floor. Strangled chokes and gasps of desperation bounce off concrete as a bound man fights against the ichor that fills his now punctured lung. Heaves and wheezes fill the space, nearly drowning out the sweet melody that plays. Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. Precise movements over the strings of a recorded cello, attempting to mask the groans and whines of a weakened subordinate. The Boss had always mentioned that classical music soothed him, allowed him to work better. Something about it just calmed the fire raging in his chest. The prisoner hangs his head low as blood pools in his mouth, mixing with saliva and dripping out in fat blobs onto his chest. He’s grateful for the moment to even hang his head, or at least he should be.
Hours have passed since he was dragged here, sack over his head and hands tied behind his back. That was so long ago, he thinks. Now the bag has since been removed and he’s been fastened to a chair in the center of the cold cement warehouse full of shipping containers, the contents of which he is oblivious of. His consciousness is fading in and out as he tries to focus on the sound of his rattling chest and the crescendo of the tune. But his ears prick as the crack of knuckles catches his attention.
He didn’t dare lift his gaze, already knowing damn well of the monster looming before him. A laugh rumbled from it’s chest as heavy footsteps approached. He could’ve sworn he felt the earth shake as it approached, but the man did his best not to show the absolute terror he truly felt. Suddenly from behind, a hand trails through his short black hair, yanking his head back in order to look upon the beast in front of him. Dark brown eyes squint at the harsh lights and he groans. His face may have been handsome once but now it was unrecognizable, broken, bloodied, and bruised; split in places not even thought possible. Peter’s hand jerked his head from side to side, ensuring he was still alive. The scruffy fellow cracked a smile and laughed as he stood behind the poor sucker. Parker was merely there to assist with refocusing his gaze. With his eyes now tracing upwards, he could see the figure ahead of him. He simply whimpered softly.
Miguel was a sadist for sure. A toothy, fanged grin spread across his sharp features as he began to wipe the blood from his brass knuckles onto his wife-beater. He carefully slipped them into his pants pocket. It had gotten everywhere at this point, Miguel believing that there was more blood and bile on the floor than in the barely breathing body beneath him. Thankfully he had enough foresight to at least remove his suit jacket, tie, and button up before beginning the torture. He stood there now, splatters of gore painting the once pure white undershirt and part of his perfectly bronzed skin. A thin layer of sweat coated his forehead and massive arms. His crimson eyes glowed, dilated as he focused in on his pathetic prey. He found it funny really, amusing. He let out a deranged laugh as he ran a hand through his messy brown locks before he spoke.
“Ya know.. I can’t lie,” He said lowly as he stepped closer, “..Realmente estoy disfrutando esto.” He growled.
There was a madness in his smile. A hidden darkness in has eyes that showed just how badly he wanted this, how he needed it. It wasn’t often that he found a mole in his ranks, attempting to demolish the empire he had built with his own two hands. It wasn’t often that he was ‘forced’ to be merciless and violent. It was a shame, he thought. Trust was something so hard to come by in his line of work. When that fragile trust is broken, an example must be made. So, when a young buck gets bold enough to start selling Spider family secrets and stealing more than his cut, Miguel is simply doing what he has to in order to secure his power and place in Nueva York. He’s worked too hard and spilled too much blood to just let it all slip away.
Finally, he looked down at the heaving mess he had made, labored breaths getting fainter as they made eye contact. Miguel snaps his fingers and swiftly, Ben shuts off the music that filled the room. A deafening silence falls on the warehouse. Miguel’s monstrous form crouched, coming to level with what was once the face of a rat. His broad and calloused hand raised to squeeze the bloodied cheeks, roughly manhandling his head, turning it over and kneading it carelessly. He sighed deeply, hot breath fanning over his victim’s features before he looked up at Peter, lifting his brows for just a split second. It was a silent command, ‘Get the gun’.
Peter released the rat’s hair and stepped back to retrieve ‘LYLA’, a stainless steel Colt XSE with a custom black grip panel etched with the red silhouette of a spider. She was beautiful. Sleek and elegant but capable of obliterating a man’s skull in a matter of milliseconds. As Miguel waited, his eyes drifted back down. His grin had fully faded as the fun of the it all was beginning to die down. The rage that had been simmering in the back of his mind had begun to boil. He liked to believe that he was a reasonable man most of the time, calm and sometimes even forgiving. But now he had no patience. Right now he felt a sort of virus infecting him, shutting down all logic and leaving him with just unadulterated hatred. Venom spilled over into his words as he spoke in a low tone, growling out as he spoke slowly.
“I can’t fucking wait to see your brains painting the walls.” He hissed out. His tone was cold and flat. His face was deadpan now, ready to carry out his final act of justice. In a fleeting moment of bravery, the rat hummed lowly. Squinting his eyes, hollowing his cheeks, and jutting his head forward just so, the rat spit at Miguel. A plump glob of blood and drool landed on Miguel’s cheek as the rat gave a half toothed smirk.
“Fuck you.” It came out broken and slurred, but the rat was proud of himself.
Miguel’s eyes darkened as his thumb slowly swiped across his cheek, effectively removing the carmine mixture. His gaze was fixed on this thumb before it calmly returned to leer at the smug prisoner.
“..Y pensar, yo iba a mostrarte misericordia.” Miguel uttered quietly as he rose up from his position on the ground. He loomed over the man, whose smirk had dissipated by now. Large sepia hands shot out, tightly coiling around the rat’s neck. Miguel was slow, methodical about it. Digging his nails into flesh as he applied pressure to the trachea, crushing and throttling at once. Wheezing ensued and panic filled the man’s eyes as his throat was forced close. His eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his skull as raspy whispers and choked gasps were the only sounds he could make. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Within moments, the rat’s body went limp in Miguel’s hands. Peter was just striding back into the room when Miguel threw the corpse to the ground, still bound to the little metal chair. The useless cadaver clattered loudly on the floor.
“You seriously couldn’t wait a minute?” Peter said with a snicker as he came up to his side, handing over LYLA.
“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” He spat out coldly, tucking the gun away as he turned his back on the body.
“Call the cleaning crew. I want this place scrubbed down.” Miguel growled out as he snatched his clothes from Ben’s hands. The scruffy lackey simply shrugged and shook his head, pulling out his phone to obey as he smirked to himself.
And with that, the trio headed towards the door, piling into a black Escalade. Miguel grumbled to himself as he laid his clothes down on the empty seat next him. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a silver zippo. After lighting a cigarette between his teeth he took a long drag and hummed, savoring its flavor. He let out a deep sigh, smoke billowing past his parted lips as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, appreciating the momentary silence. He felt a sense of calm wash over him, a low dulling hum in the back of his mind that seemed to get fainter as the car began to drive away from the warehouse. By the time they reached the highway, Miguel’s little hum was gone and his rage sat dormant, waiting in the back of his mind for now.
He felt his body ache now, finally taking in the toll of senselessly beating with his bare hands and a few other tools for hours. He let out a low groan, spreading out in the backseat. He was so so tired but knew there was still work that needed to be done. There always was.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————
The morning sun came streaming in through your curtains, stirring you awake from your bed with a groan. Plush warm sheets coaxed you into spending five more minutes among them. Your eyes had just barely shut when your phone alarm rang. An exasperated sigh left your body as you heaved yourself from the mattress, tossing the blankets off. You stretched with a whine before standing up and you swear you thought you heard your back creak. Hastily getting dressed and slipping your apron on over your clothes. Checking the time, you slipped on your shoes and headed out the door of your cozy little apartment. Brooklyn was nice, pretty with plenty to see and do with its fair share of safe and friendly neighborhoods. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t live in one of those neighborhoods. You lived on the seedier side of town with less friendly faces and cheaper rent -the side where quarrels between your neighbors could be heard through the paper thin walls and a strange smell often wafted up from the kitchen pipes. It wasn’t much, hell it was barely considered habitable but it was home. Your own little place in the world where you felt somewhat safe, far away from your old life. A fresh start was just the thing you needed. The only current upside of your living arrangement was that it was only a 5 block walk from your job.
‘Bellaginos’ was a small, family owned Italian restaurant that sat on the corner of 48th street. The dining room was divided into 2 parts; the main dining room with booths and chairs has a casual feel to it, and the private dining room with a few more candles and nicer decoré. The private dining room was just separated by 2 French doors, inside was one large mahogany table and enough chairs to seat 12 people. It was typically just used for private events and large parties, at most though in recent years it hosted a birthday dinner. The menu was nothing revolutionary and the atmosphere didn’t exactly read high class, but it was nice enough. The dingy and peeling yellow wallpaper had it’s own sense of charm to it. Your boss claimed that back in the day, “It was one of the classiest joints in town.” Obviously true by the stained and sticky carpet and how well it complimented the out of place faux Roman vases in the corners of the room.
You kept to yourself mostly, not wanting to bother the owner or the cook too much with trouble. Being polite and kind was how you ended each day with a full belly anyway, curtesy of the chef. You’d only been here for about 2 months, working as a waitress. Most days you could sit unbothered in your favorite little booth.
The day was flying by quickly and you were halfway done with your shift, sitting at one of the little red vinyl booths in the corner of the almost empty restaurant. It was tucked away in a way where you could see most of the main dining room without having to move. Your hands were busying themselves with a paper and pen, doodling away, when the little bell above the door jittered to life. Two men walked in. The smaller, leaner man with a scraggly 5 o’clock shadow held the door open, its whiny hinges complaining at the movement. He moved aside and when he did, that’s when you saw him. Dark brown slicked back curls just barely ducked below the door frame in order to step inside the shabby little eatery.
Big.
That’s the first thing you noticed. He stepped into the cramped room and his presence within made it feel like it shrank by two sizes immediately. His friend stepped in behind him, letting the door close with a slam. The second thing you noticed, were his eyes. Piercing and criminally beautiful scarlet irises that tracked around the room lazily. A bored expression played on his sharp features, as though he’s been here many times before. He runs a calloused hand through brushed back locks, a few strands disobeying him and laying messily, before breathing out an annoyed sigh. He seemed tired. No, exhausted more like it. The bags under his eyes aging him a bit, but if anything it only added to his charm. You’re about to get up from your little hiding spot to greet the pair when the owner, Mr. Caparelli, bursts out from the kitchen. For the first time since you’ve seen him, the plump and hairy little Italian man looks damn near jolly.
“Caio Miguelito!” He says through a thick Italian intonation, his joy sounding a little forced compared his usual grumbles and gripes. Mr. Caparelli was what some might call a ‘proud man’. He didn’t take criticisms well. He firmly believed that the moment you set foot within his restaurant, you owed him respect. Yet for reasons that evaded you, the giant needed not waste time with false niceties and earning his kindness. Your employer approached the tan mountain of a man with wide arms, his white mustache stretching out as he forged a smile. The behemoth pulls one hand out of his pocket and wraps an arm around the stout little man, patting his back heartily. The rings on his fingers glint as they catch the afternoon sun.
“Caio, viejo.” His voice rumbles out and you feel a heat creep across your cheeks. It’s deep and low and rattles in his chest, commanding attention. He masks his dull expression instantly with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s fake, well practiced.
“How’ve you been, Miguel? Feels like the last time I saw you was uh.. six months ago. Normally you don’t come in to collect...” Your boss chuckles as he pulls back, looking up into the monster’s eyes. You don’t quite notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing at attention. “Everythin’ alright?”
Miguel, as you’ve now learned is his name, nods his head slowly, humming in response. He doesn’t look Caparelli in his eyes, already done with the conversation before it began. Now, he’s merely looking down on him with half lidded eyes, sizing up his prey.
“Sí amigo. We’ve just got business to discuss. Price changes an’ all that.” Miguel slides his hand back into his pants pocket.
Caparelli’s smile falters for only a moment before he nods his head.
“R-Right,” he clears his throat, “Of course. Lemme uh.. lemme make you somethin’ to eat and then we can talk. Ragazza!” His head whips towards the little booth that you’ve been sitting in. Somehow you’ve managed to go unnoticed by both Miguel and his associate. The shaggy man smirks and rubs his hands together.
“Finally! I am absolutely starving.” He states as he licks his lips, causing Miguel to roll his eyes.
“You’re always starving, Peter.” Miguel mutters, more so to himself than to anyone else. Peter has always had a proclivity for annoying Miguel, so much so that sometimes he can’t quite recall why exactly he was his right hand man. Miguel firmly believed that the only reason Peter did anything was because it would lead to a hot meal. Such simple motivations almost made Miguel envious. Almost.
“Cara! Seat my friends in the private room.” He calls to your direction.
It takes you a moment, but slowly your form rises up from the booth and you begin to approach the men, stuffing the pen and crude drawing into your apron pocket. Miguel’s eyes widen just barely as he looks at you, taking in the sight. Meekly, you grab two menus, keeping your head down as you tried to find your words.
“Follow me please..” You say in a voice barely above a whisper. Miguel is silent, taking a moment to watch you turn around and walk towards the private dining room before he follows. You set the menus down at the head and the first chair on the left. The two take a seat, with Miguel at the head, as you fetch your notepad and pen from your apron. There’s a thick tension about the room as Miguel rests his chin on his fist, now wearing the same disinterested expression. His eyes are cold, raking up and down your body in a silent motion.
“Can I start you off with something to drink, sir..?” Your voice is soft, sweeter than he realized it was when you first spoke at him. He’s too distracted by your tone and the way you call him sir. It’s been too long since that kind of innocence was presented to him, tempting and teasing him. You must know what you’re doing, he thinks. He focuses intently on those plush lips of yours. So pretty and soft, blessed with a hardly noticeable sheen from your lip balm. He wonders how it must taste and how pliable your lower lip would be between his teeth. It takes him a moment before he’s broken from the trance and looks up into your eyes. He must’ve been staring for too long since you’re now looking at him with furrowed brows in confusion, head slightly cocked to the side like some wide eyed puppy.
“Sir..? Did you hear me..?”
He clears his throat, closing his eyes for a moment in order to ground himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, he hardly grumbles out a response. When he opens his eyes again, he’s looking down, suddenly finding the dingy white tablecloth to be very fascinating.
“Yeah yeah, te oí..” His hands tense around the edges of his menu, needing to sink his nails into the brown pleather of its cover for relief. “Just get me an ol’ fashioned.”
You nod your head, scribbling the order down and turn your attention over to Peter who was already beaming up at you.
“Just a water for me, thanks. Tonight May and I are having a tea party so I gotta hold off on the sugar.” He chirps as he chuckles, elbowing the growling beast beside him. “Oh and can we get some bread too? And some butter! And-“
“Enough.” Miguel cuts him off. He shoots a side glare at Peter, waving you off with his hand. You tremble a little at the way his voice boomed. You nodded your head quickly and turned on your heel, rushing through the French doors. Miguel doesn’t watch, feeling an odd humming in the back of his brain and knowing that if he saw the way your hips swayed and bounced as you scurried away from him in fear would only make it worse. He kept his eyes down, slowly letting them close, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he let out a low breath.
“You alright, big guy?” Peter asked, clapping a palm to Miguel’s shoulder. “You look so tired lately.”
“M’fine.” He snapped. He lifted his head and looked into the warm brown eyes of his companion. Peter retracted his hand, shooting both up in defense and going silent. In truth, Miguel wasn’t just tired. He was fucking drained of every last bit of energy he had. Business had been booming lately and with the rise of idiots in Nueva York trying to take what was rightfully his, Miguel hadn’t been able to rest. Scum like Kingpin had been hiring his own men, bribing them into selling out the family. Loyalty was becoming a scarce resource, causing more and more rival gangs to crawl out from the woodworks to oppose him. One of the biggest things the Spiders dealt in was “protection.” The Spiders would offer their protection to whomever could afford it, but the higher the demand got, the greater the cost grew. This of course was the only reason Miguel was sitting here today. A couple of Spiders had attempted to inform your boss of the rising cost of protection, but the pig headed brute refused to listen. Miguel had decided that he’d pay him a visit as a last chance before escalating things. Miguel was cold and calculated and knew the only way to make people listen was through fear.
In the beginning of it all though, he tried to be merciful. He tried to be patient and understanding, but his kindness was mistaken for weakness. His mercy was abused and left him with nothing but a fraction of the man he once was. Now the bloodlust was near maddening. Managing his rage had become a dangerous dance. The stress of running an empire often left him craving release in one form or another. First it was women, then liquor, and now his latest vice was violence. Unbridled carnage that truly let his mask of sanity slip. He was trying harder and harder now a days to keep his wrath in check but with so many people working to test his patience, he was bound to snap. The poor fellow in the chair last week had merely been the victim of shit luck. Miguel had intended to show him some mercy and make his death quick and painless. Unfortunately for him, his tongue worked faster than his head and he thought that pushing Miguel’s buttons would buy him some time. Miguel had been pent up with rage for weeks and just needed to release it on something. Part of him feared he’d always have to live with this anger, never really able to escape it, just find gaps between the killings. That is until he saw you.
For the first time in a long time, when he heard fear in someone’s voice, he didn’t want there to be any. You looked so small and soft. So delicate, like a fragile little flower. The humming in the back of his brain tuned out the constant wash of anger. For once, he wasn’t focused on work or power. In the seconds he took to gaze upon your angelic face, he felt peace, an emotion he thought he was no longer capable of.
When you finally returned with their drinks, Miguel watched your eyes flit to the floor as you approached him. He could’ve sworn he felt his heart palpitate in his chest, not fully understanding himself why he wanted you to look at him. You set down the drinks along with a basket of bread and butter and placed your hands behind your back.
“Mr. Caparelli will be here shortly to speak with you. Is there anything else I can get you..?” You questioned softly. Slowly you lifted your head, anxiously shifting your weight. Cautious as ever, you stole a glance at Miguel’s eyes. They gleamed like rubies and for a moment you felt a shutter in your chest. A whimper would’ve escaped you, had you not been more wary.
Miguel simply shook his head and looked down at his drink.
“No, thank you. That’ll be all.” Miguel says as he picks up the glass, bringing it to his lips. His tone seemed softer, just barely so. You hum in response, allowing the corners of your mouth to just barely turn upward and once again turned towards the doors. You only halted once Miguel called your name, feeling a chill crawl down your spine.
“Y-Yes sir..?” You glance over your shoulder back at him.
“Close the door on your way out.” He said coldly, losing any sense of warmth he may have just had. With that you weakly nod and close the doors behind you. The doors to the private dining room remained closed until your stout manager exited the kitchen with a serving tray of food and nervous sweat beading down his forehead. Mr. Caparelli entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him, simply hoping to survive and atone for the sins that had lead to this meeting with a killer. Caparelli set down the plates of food before the two men, taking a seat on the far end of the table, directly across from Miguel. His trembling only fed Miguel’s ego, causing a malicious grin to spread across his face. He chuckled lowly, his scarlet eyes half lidded and glaring directly into Caparelli’s soul.
“Aye viejo, there’s no need to be so scared…”
“I won’t bite.”
Part 2
@whisperwispxx
#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#miguel smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#peter b parker#mafia au#mafia#Spotify
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