okay but yandere!miguel with E from the prompt list? 👀
Prompt: E is for...Eradicate
"You don't need a job, baby. Your job is being mine."
"You're better off without them anyway."
"I removed the problem. You should be thanking me."
Warnings: Dark Miguel, kidnapping, forced imprisonment, obsessive behavior, violence/death, manipulation of the reader
A/N: This cooooould be read as a sequel to this story I wrote a while back, or standalone. I thought it would be cool to tie this one into that event like what follows after he takes her back home, but you could totally read this independently. Miguel will kill all the boyfriends regardless
Miguel sighed as he heard you sniffle from beside him. Your body curled in on itself, leaning against the car door to get as far away from him as possible. The shock had started to wear off and so was your adrenaline.
But the sight of your boyfriend dead on the floor, killed over pure jealousy and possessiveness, played over and over again in your mind. He hadn't done anything to deserve that. And with a trembling, raw voice, you said as much.
"You didn't have to do that. He didn't do anything."
Miguel scoffed, his voice indignant.
"He tried to take you from me. He tried to take you away from your home, the place you truly belong. He couldn't even defend himself from me, that means he couldn't have defended you. Imagine if something had happened to you. Imagine if someone had tried to hurt you, and he couldn't stop them."
You could see the anger flash in his eyes at the mere thought. Fire dancing in those warm brown irises. He was reaching out for you then, ignoring your whimper as he cradled your cheek.
"I removed the problem. You should be thanking me."
You shivered at his words and Miguel cooed at you, hands coming to rest on your shoulders, smoothing his palms up and down your bare skin. The pretty shawl you were covering up with had disappeared in the chaos.
"We're almost home, mi amor. Just a few more minutes."
You sat still in the war, water as Miguel lathered the shampoo into your scalp. Your face was wet, but you weren't sure if it was the bathwater or tears. You felt drained and limp, nearly boneless. Yet, you knew sleep wouldn't come easily to you tonight. Or maybe any night after what you had seen.
You blamed yourself. All your boyfriend had done was be with you and try to make you happy. That was his only crime; caring for you. and you couldn't shake the guilt that came with that, even though you knew it was Miguel's fault and his alone.
He was unstable. Cool as a cucumber and most would think he was unshakable. But that was what made him so dangerous. He was a man with seemingly infinite power, and his world would always be shaped how he wanted by his own hands. Bloody or not.
He massaged your scalp tenderly and you closed your eyes, if not only just to keep the tears at bay. He always harped on how he would never hurt you. And he never had, physically at least. It seemed he didn't think the mental torture and trauma this event would leave you with to be harmful.
"My friends will be looking for me. They know I had a date tonight."
Miguel hummed, unmoved by your words from behind you. His hands steady as he lifted the handle to rinse the bubbles from your hair.
"You're better off without them anyway."
You yanked yourself away from him, arms covering your breasts as you turned to face him, though he had seen them a million times. Your eyes were bloodshot and fierce as you stared at him, his face neutral, seemingly unbothered by the water you splattered on his crisp button up.
"Yeah, and my job? You think they're not gonna notice when I never show up again? Hmm?"
You were trying everything. That was what he loved about you the most. Your resistance. Your willpower. How headstrong you were. You weren't a woman who was easily tamed, and but getting you to belong to him would forever be one of his greatest achievements.
Miguel chuckled and shook his head, the sound rumbling in his chest as he rested his wet hands on the front of his thighs. He tilted his head, the look almost condescending.
"You quit. Sent your boss an email, saying that due to a new business venture of mine, you had to leave. Relocation difficulties."
You were about to argue, until he pulled your phone out from his pocket, opening the screen to show the email he'd sent, as well as your bosses reply saying that despite the short notice, he wished you and your husband well on your new endeavors.
Your eyes shifted from the screen to him and he grinned.
"I also told him that you decided to give our marriage another shot. Hence you coming with me."
Putting the phone away, he stood up from his squatted position and walked to the lavish counter, grabbing the expensive fluffy white towel and holding it open for you to step into.
You stared at him for what felt like an eternity before relenting and standing up from the bath, not a care in the world that your hair hadn't been conditioned. You stepped into the towel and felt him embrace you in it, a hand holding your head to his chest as he held you, stroking your hair.
"You don't need a job, baby. Your job is being mine."
Miles Morales, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen + (mentioned) Platonic!Yandere!Miguel x child!reader (GN)
Summary: Deciding to cause some Mayhem, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Pavitr go looking through Miguel's office in his absence, only that what they find there, isn't quite what any of them expected. Who'd have thought Miguel was the type to have a secret Apartment...only that that might not be the worst thing in there...
TW: Kidnapping, dark!content, yandere, threat of violence (not towards reader), MDNI, I do not condone this behaviour, this is just fiction
Day 2 of my Yandere Writetober
After Miles' official introduction into the Spidersociety, he’d loved spending his time there. Not only because he’d be able to hang out with Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr, but also because he felt like part of something bigger. He’d made up an after-school club to his parents and had somehow managed to keep the lie up to this day, which took a lot of studying and doing his best to actually attend class to make his parents trust him.
One afternoon the four spiders were hanging out when Hobie suggested doing something less boring, like breaking into Miguel’s office and checking out his hologram Programm. And while Miles and the others knew that there were some serious consequences if they’d get caught, the energy Hobie had was infectious and they soon found themselves sneaking through his door after making double-sure that Miguel and Jessica were on a mission.
The thrill of sneaking through his office, using his floating platform and the holographic floor to show each other nice or funny memories from their respective universes was just the thing four teenagers needed to have the time of their life’s.
About half an hour had passed and they were strewn around the room looking around. Hobie was probably dismembering and taking components from the different machinery, Gwen was trying to use the holographic floor to look at some classic concerts and Pavitr was playing around with the floating platform. Miles had taken to exploring the shelf’s in one of the corners of the room. Usually the room was so dark that you’d hardly be able to see them which is why
Miles had to use his phone's flashlight to see around. The shelves were filled with some gizmos and gadgets, some files strewn around, some boxes and blueprints. Nothing of particular interest to Miles, or at least nothing until his light hit a picture frame standing about where Miguel's eyes would be level with it.
Given that Miles was not quite as tall as Miguel, he had to rise to his tiptoes to even get an idea of what it depicted, he thought he recognized the image from the video Miguel had showed him when telling him about the dangers of ignoring canon events. It was a picture of his late daughter.
Miles had to swallow hard. He tended to forget what hardship Miguel went through because of how much of a douche he was to him. Something in Miles compelled him to take a closer look at the picture so he reached out to it and tried to take it, but instead of coming down from the shelf, he was only able to pull it slightly into his direction. Then there was a quiet but noticeable ‘click’ before the shelf with the picture on it opened a gap.
"Guys? Uhm, there’s something over here,” Miles called out to his friends who all ran over to him.
“What’s up?” Pavitr asked as he looked around, without seeing anything.
“Well, I think this shelf- let me just-“ he stuttered as he took a hold of the side of the shelf where the gap had opened and pulled.
“Whoa, a secret room? Cool,” Gwen mumbled in awe and slight confusion.
“I knew that bloke had somethin’ to hide, he ain’t right kosher, y’know,” Hobie shrugged and was the first to take off into the secret passage, the other three hot on his heels.
Miles wasn’t sure what he had expected to hide in the secret room, but he was sure it had been anything but what they found there.
Behind the shelf was what seemed to be a full apartment, with a nice open concept as Pavitr noted offhandedly, which in itself wasn’t so strange, after alle, maybe Miguel just liked his privacy.
Or at least that was what the four would have thought if it wasn’t for the plushies, toys, coloring books and other children’s stuff strewn throughout the different sections of the big room.
“Maybe Miggy over here is a bit more kinky then we gave ‘im credit for,” Hobie joked as he picked up a princess coloring book from the kitchen table and leafed through it.
“I don’t know, something about this seems weird, right guys?” Gwen looked around and received nods from Miles and Pavitr, “Maybe we should leave…”
Miles wanted to agree, wanted to get out of there and act like they’d never been there, but his stupid spider-senses had to start going off the charts right that second as he heard something from behind one of the three doors leading out of the room, the only door with more locks on it then on an average New Yorker apartment door.
“You guys feeling that?” Pavitr asked, confirming Miles’ fear that he wasn’t the only one whose senses were acting up.
Not bothering to answer, Hobie and Gwen were the first ones to go towards the door, quickly followed by the other two.
Hobie had already taken hold of the door on both sides ready to take it off its hinges when Gwen stopped him.
“If we break it, there’s no denying what we did anymore, maybe we should try this differently. These locks seemed to be electric, maybe we could overload them to reset them or something.”
Miles quickly realized that with ‘we’ Gwen meant him so he pushed himself to the front and got ready to electrify the locks.
A few seconds later there was a shrill beep and a click and with high anticipation, Miles took hold of the door handle and… It opened without problem.
With bated breath, he opened the door.
“Daddy?” a soft, quiet voice, doubtlessly that of a child, called out to them and all of them stood there like frozen as they stared towards the small kid sitting on a fuzzy blue rug surrounded by dolls and plushies. The child tilted their head, looking at them in confusion.
“Hi, are you friends with Daddy?” they asked, but none of them were in the mental state to answer them, all too shocked.
Suddenly a voice called out from speakers somewhere in the room.
“Y/N go into your room immediately please,” a voice - all of them recognized it as Lydia’s - said and after a slightly disappointed ‘okay Aunt Lyd’ from the child they left through a sliding door in the wall opposite of the four spiders which immediately closed (and probably locked) after them.
“Miguel has been informed of your intrusion, I’d advise you to take your leave immediately, and if you enjoy your heart beating I’d tell you not to mutter a word of this to anyone, now leave.”
With a heavy heart and many questions the four ran out of the secret apartment, making sure to close the shelf after them, before they disbanded and returned to their original universes. All of them couldn’t get the child out of their head, but especially Miles couldn’t help but feel he’d seen them before.
Only when he was lying in bed that evening mulling over the events of that day again did he remember.
Months ago his father had taken one of his files home with him, a missing persons report, a little child had disappeared right out of their childhood bedroom without any hint as to what or who had taken them.
In the upper corner of the report was a picture of a smiling toddler with an white area below where their name was…Y/N.
Summary: The crimson phantom steals you to keep for himself… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3
TW: mentions of kidnapping, abuse, and other dark subjects.
two
The scream, it was an awful and otherworldly sound. A thing meant to only exist in the skin glistening terrors that greet you at nightfall. Yet you were very much awake.
Mother…
Your flame dances by the wind of your hasty departure, it had been serving you well as a gold star lighting the ridiculous letter from lord Wickham of Newbury, a town away. You’d met him once, and a handsome thing he was, undeniably. Yet he was also most successfully a bore. A great one at that.
Perhaps you’re just picky with your men. His sapphire eyes and blonde locks tied back by onyx colored ribbons just weren’t enough to catch your steady eye— much to mama’s dismay. He was far from a poor man, quite the opposite. Yet you swore this to yourself, you wouldn’t marry for anything other than true love. The purest, truest love and adoration like that of storybooks. Like that of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy or Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre.
So you wouldn’t marry at all, you’d decided. For that kind of longing was far too grand for this simple world with its simple people. This you knew well.
The ink stained paper was waxed and perfected. No stroke faltered or bled from its place. An invite to a ball, as if you had anything other than wool tresses and scratchy cloth to don. You’d prepared to have a laughing fit in your tiny cot at the thought of it all, of a man’s stupidity and their clueless nature but— the scream.
You took the steps two at a time, ignoring their complaints by noisy creaks. Shadows of your siblings circling mama in panic greeted you round the corner. All but the moon and her stars lit the wooden home— besides a single wick candle that dripped on to mama’s wrinkled palm.
She’s a mess of sobs and panic when you reach her, immediately snatching the candle from her palm and placing it in its rightful russet holder. You turn your eyes to your sister, nearly the eldest had you not beat her by a month.
“What’s happened?”
The poor thing, her eyes are wide as the moon herself. Perfect, round circles they are— adorned with cyan and onyx to craft the most delightful gaze. Men throw themselves at her, and for good reason.
“S-she claims to have seen a phantom…”
“I did see a phantom you foolish girl! Right there in the window, clear as morning hour. Can’t you see how my nerves have betrayed me you rodents!? I am being truthful!” She sobs again, face scrunched up into an unpleasant expression.
You swallow, knowing full well what this means. Your eyes shift to little Thomas, adorned in a frayed night shirt and a flimsy cap. His bright blue eyes are worrisome, looking upon you for aid. He’s only six.
You place a cool hand upon his reddened cheek before ordering your sister to help him find slumber in his cot.
You know familiarly what this is and how insignificant it is for him to see it. For you’ve dealt with it in all your time here and it has done nothing more than cause you worry and heartache.
Your palms halt themselves, then find courage in the moment to cautiously rest upon the shoulders of a madwoman.
“Mama, have you taken your medication this evening?” It’s a weak, gentle whisper.
First, you believe yourself to be in the clear. She snaps her head up in panic, and the itch of realization that bites at her gaze relaxes your shoulders for a quick moment; but then, she squints. Before you can straighten your back or step apart from her, she slams her hand hard against your flushed cheek— turning it the color of the mysterious bloom you’d seen in the bend.
Your siblings gasp, falling quiet. Particularly your brother is dismayed, for he averts his eyes and clenches an angry fist. You stumble backward, fingertips grazing the heat of the slap with a certain shakiness. It is your nerves that have fallen sickly now.
It is far from the first time, and it most certainly won’t be the last. You breathe out your frustrations and pain through petal-pink lips— allowing the night itself to have them. Reminding yourself that she is unwell in mindful matters.
She is overtaken with sobs again, murmurs of the phantom and a disappearing flower being planted throughout her words. You swipe away at the warm water rolling singular down your cheek before straightening your back and snatching at the candlestick. You’ll remain strong as the eldest should for your siblings, and for your mother.
“I’ll go search for the phantom, mama. You may watch me from the window if you’d like.”
Worry embroiders itself in her wrinkles, and she reaches a weak hand out for you. You ignore it before making your way past your siblings and out into the icy night.
The creak of the window follows not long after, and your candlestick flame dances wildly with the wind, as though they are in a quarrel. As though they are cross.
You squint, midnight surrounding you. Blackness, nothingness.
Yet even so, you make a show of searching the grassy plain for this phantom she speaks of. You don’t seem to find him.
“Oh sweet girl, have you found the creature yet!?”
Your mother cries. You ignore it, inhaling a shaky breath as the wind lashes its anger upon your skin. The grass is dampened and soft, you’ll have to find new socks for they are browned now by dirt.
A bite of breeze steals the flame from you, and your siblings gasp as your glowing features are taken by the night.
“Be calm! It is just the wind! It is creating faces in midnight, mama. That is all!”
A softer sob now, one of realization and perhaps shame. It renders you content, you can rest now. For the hunger of her paranoia and fantasies are fulfilled.
“Follow the sound of my voice!” Your youngest sister Charlotte calls. It is a faint thing beyond the wind. A faint call.
It is as if onyx curtains have been veiled around your eyes. You search the night for a glisten of light and yet there is none.
Your sister calls again, and you stumble over a vine as you walk further toward her humming.
Your eyes shift to the earth’s core to find that odd blossom from earlier on. A strong color of red and blue— and it seems as though it has the power to shine brightly even at the devil’s hour.
You gape at it, grazing your fingertips cautiously against the petals. You must pluck it and use it to lead your way. Yet soon as your touch greets it, it disappears into darkness— into the night.
You gasp, falling onto your bum at its little trick.
It is you know that has fallen ill with ailments of the mind, it seems. The thought frightens you, enough so that the darkness seems to create more faces now. Enough so that you feel far from alone in the dead of nightfall.
Panic constricts you.
“Call for me again, Charlotte!”
A soft hum, but it sounds so far away now. You take a steeling breath and focus, taking only a selfish moment to hesitate before chasing after the sound. Closer and closer, your arched feet press against soft soil as you near the moonlit window.
Your brother holds a match flame so to find you, and you breathe in relief once you near it. Your nightgown is now stained with mud and the earth, you’ll have to sew another one.
The greeting of panicked eyes settle to relief once you near the window— and yet it is not so far after that they widen to saucers again. Another scream from your mother, then from small Charlotte with glossy eyes.
You gasp, turning against the hold of the night to find two crimson orbs staring right through you.
The phantom.
You know those orbs well.
The mysterious townsman who snatched you from immediate death.
Your body finds itself still, but your mind cannot be. It overtakes you, stumbling you backward till your eldest sister’s palm grazes the muddied gown you wear through the window. Reaching for you through the cries.
She cannot snatch you so soon- for the phantom beats her to it.
The sky itself cracks open in a flash of all the colors your mind can create, and a shadowed creature you’re confined to by the night itself snatches you by waist into the painful sight. It is far too bright for gentle eyes.
The sounds of fading screams and panic pools at the bottom of your pounding chest as you’re rushed through a space only meant to make your head ache. You’re certain you’re stuck in a terror now; but your mind is far too weak to bare it. So? You faint.
In the arms of mother’s phantom and his crimson gaze…
an (uh OOC ig) Dark!parental Miguel o'hara au where he basically maybe kinda knowingly makes his spiderlings depend on him instead of their actual parents- like I can imagine him just giving off hand comments that get deep rooted into the others minds
like for Hobie it's about his mother (based off Comic) and I can imagine it's just a small comment of how Hobie shouldn't have to deal with an absent and alcoholic mother and that he's welcomed into the Spider-Society anytime and just that small comment that Hobie brushes off not knowing that the spider part of him held onto it thinking it was a offering of protection and home and the same is for Gwen when she needs a place to stay, (for Pavitr could be just Miguel offering a safe space or him offering a place away from thing from home idk) and Miles..
It's hard to get Miles to join Miguel little cluster- because Miles seems to have a good relationship with his parents, and he already sees Peter B as a father figure (and no Miguel spiderbrain doesnt side glare Peter when he remembers that fact), but when Miles father talks on TV once about how he plans to take down spiderman in a not so jail free way (I like to think that Miles dad sees that spiderman behavior similar to Aaron's so he might think they work in a similar line of work aka illegal bad bad) and I like to think Miles was slightly set off by this- like the spider part of him was already believing Miguel but that human part didn't until now so he would go to Spider-Society and Miguel would see him smile and just maybe knowingly gently squeeze the back of Miles neck and tell him he always has a home in the Spider-Society (aka in his little cluster of spiderlings)
Summary: You have a new boyfriend after breaking up with Miguel, but that’s ok. He’s never been a man to let obstacles stay in his way.
Pairing: Toxic Yandere Miguel Galindo x female reader
Warnings: Murder, blood, gaslighting, toxic behavior, kidnapping technically I guess
Word count: 444
A/N: This isn’t really much of a kink in the story but you can read/take it however you want to
A hiccup broke through your trembling lips as you cried, head hanging low as you remained on the floor. Shaky hands bracing you up, legs to the side, one foot bare; your shoe gone missing in the frenzy. The tears flowed, eyes refusing to look at the slain body of your new boyfriend. You'd only been together a few months, not nearly long enough to be head over heels in love nor soulmates. You care for him sure, but you didn't love him, not like you had loved Miguel.
But that didn't make the sight any easier to stomach. His eyes wide open yet unseeing as they stared blankly at the ceiling above, mouth slack-jawed and paused in the scream that had transformed into a gurgle as the blood bubbled out of his mouth. The white button-down that was now more maroon than not, holes punctured around his chest where the air had escaped through rather than stay in his lungs where he needed it.
He was butchered. You, on the other hand, were unharmed.
Of course.
Miguel would never hurt you.
He let you get the sobs out of your system, wiping his bloody knife on a hankerchief before handing it over to Nestor. He looked back at you then, collapsed on the floor in fear and shock. He kneeled down beside you, hand reaching out to brush along you hair. You shrunk back but he either didn't notice or didn't mind, hand still stroking at your hair with a tenderness some would be shocked by. The same hand that had just speared a knife past someone's sternum. The same hand that had mockingly waved goodbye at the dying man in his last moments. He cooed at you, eyes soft and full of love.
"It's ok, princesa. I'm here now. He's gone. You can come back home with me now. Where you belong. I know he was just a distraction. Something to pass the time until you came back to me. You were taking too long though, so I had to get you myself. I know you don't mind."
You looked up slowly, eyes stinging from the tears, a small splatter of blood on your cheek from when your boyfriend had tried to call your name but choked. Miguel met your eyes and smiled warmly as he put his hands under your arms, helping you get up off the ground. He held you gently as you stared at him, frame still shaking. Thumb stroking against your cheek, he wiped away a few tears, looking into your glossy and bloodshot eyes.
"Come on. The house has been lonely without you. Let's get you home."
“If she wants everyone's attention and you all want to give it to her, then attention is what she's gonna fucking get."
Summary: You know that asking Miguel’s men to do personal things for you is a risky game. A game you decided to play, and a game that you’re going to lose.
Pairing: Dark!Miguel Galindo x Brat!female reader
Warnings: Spanking, pussy slaps, degradation, use of the words “whore” and “slut”, voyeurism, exhibition, unprotected sex, gun violence, murder. **This is NOT CNC or non-con, it’s consensual sex in front of others as/involving punishment, but if that type of dynamic or situation is a trigger for you, please feel free to skip this one.**
Word count: 2.4K
A/N: I understand this may not be everyone’s cup of tea and that’s ok, this is just something that got me and Bre going and I wasn’t going to be able to rest until I got it out. If it is your cup of tea though, then sip sip bitch because 🤤🤤🤤 And y’all can thank @breanime for the dialogue at the end because that was her brain
"My nails? Oh, Drew took me yesterday. He paid for them too."
You smiled as you looked over your manicure, the nails perfect in every way. They were your favorite color, length, and design. Your confidence was through the room with them, and while that was something that would usually make Miguel happy, it was who had been involved that had his anger starting to rise.
He looked at you from across the counter, hands now flat on the granite while you sat oblivious in the stool, eyes still gazing at your nails. Miguel's voice was low when it caught your attention.
"I thought I told you that I was going to take you this Wednesday."
It wasn't a question. Not how he voiced it. No, he was making a statement. Reminding you that you had disregarded him. You shrugged, knowing that it was something that riled him up.
"I know. I just wanted to get them done sooner. I love how I feel with them."
Miguel didn't say anything else, simply stared at you and you tried him once again, lying this time.
"I couldn't decide that color to do, so I had Drew pick for me."
Miguel still didn't say anything, the cartel leader trying to think before he spoke, but his hands tightly gripping the edge of the counter were saying more than his mouth ever could. You stared at him, eyes feigning innocence and yet challenging him at the same time. His mouth was opening to check you just as Marcus walked into the space, a smile coming to your face as you quickly hopped down from the stool, making your exit as your husband's eyes burned holes into you.
"I'll leave you boys alone to talk."
The day continued like that, you taking advantage of his men's commitment to you and your safety, asking them for things that they had no business doing. From asking the door guard to mix up your granola and yogurt for you to asking the new driver to keep you company as you watered the outside plants. With each request and subsequent agreement, you had his men babying and pampering you. Their days often consisted of being asked to do things that were hard or dangerous. Grabbing your blanket and covering you up while you watched your show was one of the easiest jobs to be given and they had all done as you had asked all day.
And Miguel was watching. Spectating as you were handed your blueberry granola and yogurt already mixed together for you. As you cuddled into the blanket that was draped over you. As you drank juice from the wine glass that was handed to you while you got ready for the banquet. As you were helped down and out of the vehicle at the entrance.
Miguel finally found a moment alone with you toward the end of the night, all of the politicians and brokers going off to try and impress someone else, and he took advantage of it. He sidled up closer to you, arm around your waist, hand gripping your hip tight enough to pull a gasp from you. He didn't apologize though, not even as you looked over at him with a pout. He kept his eyes forward, scanning through the crowd, no sign on his face displaying what he was quietly telling you.
"This is the last I'm going to tell you; stop asking my men to do shit for you. That's not what they're there for. They're there to protect you, not open and pour out a fucking juice box for you while you do your makeup. No one needs to be doing shit like that for you other than me. I won't tell you again."
You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest like the brat that you were, Miguel's grip on your hip tightening painfully.
"Cause a scene and I swear I will take you to the bathroom and spank you until you can't fucking breathe."
Uncrossing your arms, you kept your eyes forward just like he was doing.
"Why not just spank me here? Give all of these old men a show."
Your words forced a dark chuckle from him and he leaned closer to you, his voice dangerous as it spoke into your ear.
"I would slaughter every single one of these old fucks if they dared to look at this ass."
His threat made you throb, the thought of your husband killing always awakening something in you. Your thighs rubbed together under your expensive satin gown and he chuckled again, condescension heavy in his voice.
"Such a dirty little whore."
The rest of the night went by without incident, you on your best behavior, or at least better behavior than before. You hadn't asked any of the guards for anything the entire event, allowing Miguel to do everything for you. Even as you had arrived home, you had waited for him to get you out of the car, and for a moment, Miguel had believed that you were done with your little game. That you had dropped the bullshit and were no longer asking anything of his men since you already had his attention.
He should've known better.
As you all entered the house, you sat down on the couch with a sigh, surrounded by the guards, waiting for the newest one, Drew, to come over as well. Miguel watched from his spot as you lifted your leg, the satin parting at the slit in your gown up to your thigh as you brought your heeled foot higher, a pleading pout on your lips as you looked up at him.
"Drew, can you take my shoes off?"
Miguel felt his blood both boil and run cold at the same time as he watched Drew nod once, kneeling down in front of you and taking your foot into his hands, fingers working at the clasp around your ankle as he tried desperately not to look at your thigh. It was you throwing a glance over at Miguel, the smallest twitch at the corner of your mouth showing that you wanted to smile that had him standing up. The other guards who were sitting didn't flinch at the sudden movement, having expected it. They knew Miguel and as soon as the new hire had dropped down to his knees before you, they had a feeling they knew how things were going to play out. Miguel took quick steps forward, hands shoving Drew away from you with a force that had him flying to the side into the coffee table.
The violent action caught you off guard and Miguel could see it. The widening of your eyes. The way that small upturned corner of your mouth disappeared instantly. For the first time today, you were the one getting surprised. The only difference was that Miguel wasn't smiling. Far from it. His nose flared as he reached down and snatched you up from the sofa by your arm, your gown cascading back down to cover you up once more. You looked at him wide-eyed, already anticipating the punishment you were going to be subjected to once he got you behind closed doors. But he surprised you, and everyone else, once again by spinning you around and hiking up your gown to your hips before bending you over the coffee table, your ass on full display as he spanked you once. You gasped, and you were sure that if the guards didn't have such discipline, they would've too. Almost in perfect sync, they all leaned forward and began to stand, knowing that Miguel wouldn't want them seeing you that way and figuring that was their cue to leave. Throwing one more curveball, he shook his head, growling.
"No. Everyone is gonna stay right fucking here. If she wants everyone's attention and you all want to give it to her, then attention is what she's gonna fucking get."
They all exchanged looks, trying to figure out if this was some type of test, but as Miguel reached forward and gripped the band of your lace panties, ripping them off and exposing you fully, they realized that he was very much serious. You did too and began to backpedal.
"Miguel, it was just a joke. I was just playing around."
His palm answered you with a strike against your bare ass first, followed by another, his voice booming as he commanded his men.
"Sit!"
Everyone sat back down, Drew frozen in place on the floor where he had been this entire time. He had been the closest to you originally, and still was, getting a full view of your ass as well as your pussy in between your thighs. He quickly looked away but Miguel kicked at him with his perfectly shined shoe.
"No, you were the one that wanted a peak right?"
Drew quickly shook his head, fear and arousal clouding his mind as well as his judgment.
"No, sir. I was just trying to help her."
Miguel chuckled, already knowing that he was the one he was going to make an example of when he was finished with you.
Putting his focus back on you, Miguel finally spoke to you directly as he began to roll up his sleeves.
"Today you've been such an attention whore, right? Wanting my men to look at you and focus on you and be their center of attention? You get what you ask for."
His hands drifted down to unbuckle his belt as he continued.
"Asking them to take you to do your nails and pour you juice and tuck you in so you can have their attention. Well, you've got their fucking attention now."
He landed another spank, only this time it struck right between your legs, your thighs clenching involuntarily at the blow. Your pussy didn't have time to recover before he was spanking you again, a high-pitched whine coming from you as you squirmed.
"Miguel!"
You felt heat rise in both the cheeks of your ass and the cheeks of your face, embarrassment and arousal overwhelming you. This was a fantasy you had always had and had told Miguel about but neither of you had ever entertained the idea of actually doing it. Now that it was here, multiple pairs of eyes on you as your husband punished you, you felt yourself growing more and more slick by the second. The men were watching you as Miguel had demanded, some looking at your shoulder, some at your back, but none at your exposed lower half, lest they end the night with their eyes plucked from their sockets. They all knew better, but Drew, he didn't. He didn't know Miguel well enough, not like the others did. He was new, after all. And so he was following his instructions too well, eyes on you right where you were exposed, wet and swollen.
Miguel spanked you once more for good measure before pulling you off of the table and instead now bending you over the arm of the couch. He tossed you forward and then gripped himself with his right hand pushing into you, his left holding you down by the back of your neck.
“This is how needy little sluts get treated when they don't know how to listen. When they want to let other men do things for them that their husband should be doing."
The angle Miguel had you in let you feel him deep, your tummy feeling stuffed full. He groaned as he pumped in and out of you, his thrusts slow but hard, your body jostling with each pounding of his hips. Everyone could hear the sound of your wetness as he filled you, the sound obscene in the otherwise silent house.
The material of his slacks scratched at your skin, stimulating you even more, and Miguel chuckled darkly as you whined and whimpered from your place below him, hand reaching back to push at his thigh when he bottomed out. Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, he held your arm behind your back.
"Aw, what's wrong, mi amor? You were talking all that shit about me spanking you at the event right? In front of everyone? This is what you wanted; for people to see that I fucking own you, so be a good girl and take it."
He took no pity on you and neither did his hips, the cartel leader continuing to rail you from behind right in the living room, his hand releasing your wrist only to travel down and rub firm circles around your clit. Your hips bucked as you moaned, mouth falling open while your eyes fluttered closed, the men trying desperately not to look at your face directly while you came. Miguel cursed as he felt you tighten and spasm around him, your body tense as you came. He spilled himself within you and gave a few more pumps before pulling out of you, letting your body fall down limp onto the coffee table.
Tossing his head back, he took a few deep inhales through his nose, steadying his breathing while he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants. He looked back down at you, your body still rising and falling quickly as you tried to catch yours. Reaching down, he placed his hands on your waist and helped pull you back to stand up, your makeup smudged and smeared as your gown covered you back up. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, a fucked-out dazed look on your face as he looked at you.
With the first gentle hand of the night, he took your chin in his hand and locked eyes with you, a silent look that said this would be the first and last time he allowed something like this to ever happen. You nodded even though he hadn't said anything and he released your face only to turn around, grab his gun from the holster under the coffee table and cock it. He wasted no time in turning around and aiming the gun at Drew, pulling the trigger once, the shot echoing deafeningly in the large home. Then just like that he was reholstering it and turning to speak to his men, voice even as per usual.
"Now if my wife ever needs any...outside attention, you call me. I'll be the one taking her to dinner and paying to get her nails done. She has anything to say about it, call me. I know how to keep my bratty wife in line. And remember, that pussy is mine."
He spared a glance down at old Drew for effect before looking back at his remaining alive men.
"Let this be a warning. Only one you’ll get."
With that, he was wrapping his arm around your waist, helping you walk out of the living room and upstairs to the bedroom on shaky legs while his men began cleaning up the scene downstairs in silence.
