STAWP ITTTđ€đ€đ€đ€đ€
THEME PARK HEADCANNONS WITH MIGUEL đ đđ
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Based off this post lol
Being completely self indulgent with this one lol. I also think it would be funny if they went to a 6 flags park cuz itâs DC property, lol anyway. Not proofread, no smut but slightly suggestive in one part.
Word count: 800
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âHe remembered how once you made an off handed comment about loving roller coasters and flat rides when you two had first begun dating, and since summer was just around the corner he wanted to surprise you with two tickets to the nearest Six Flags in a state over, wanting to make a whole day out of it, because heâs just a sweet boyfriend like that.
âHe himself hadnât gone to one since he was in high school before he had his late growth spurt, so he didnât realize until it was already too late that he was too big for 99% of the rides.
âIt hadnât occurred to you both right away, you were both waiting in line for a coaster, Batman the ride to be more specific. You both finally got to the front of line after about 40 minutes of waiting, Miguel hugging you from behind as you waited like a stereotypical couple. (When you were single, you despised those couples but here you are now) he wasn't even able to take two steps from the gate until an employee came up to you both. Saying that Miguel was too tall to sit comfortably in the seats and even if he was a few inches shorter, the over-the-shoulders restraints wouldnât click because of how built his shoulders and chest were.
âHe was a bit upset, the day had barely started and he was already being turned away because of something he had technically no control over. But he didnât want it to affect the date. So he just walked through the loading station and just waited there. You had initially told him that you werenât going to get on it if he couldnât, but he said that you should just ride without him.
ââYou had already waited the 40 minutes muñeca, just go, Itâs fine.â He had told you, but he started to regret his words just a tad bit when the ride attendant had sat a group of three college guys next to you. He had to watch silently as the one next to you tried to make conversation. You were always too nice to not engage, and werenât very good at reading signs when someone was flirting with you.
âWhen you finally finish the ride, your face is all fleshed, and you're all giggly from the adrenaline pumping in your veins. Miguel made sure that the guy next to you knew you were off limits, pulling you close by your waist and capturing your lips into a wet kiss as you giggled into it. Not noticing the way your boyfriend was glaring daggers at the guy who sat next to you.
âYou were a lot more optimistic than Mig was about being able to get to ride at least one thing with him. But the more times he got denied the more bitter he became, you had to take a break from the rides after one of the works weâre getting âtoo handsyâ with you (he was checking your lap restraint) so as to make sure he didnât throw it down with a 16 year old worker (it was almost funny how jealous he got at times).
âIf there was anything Miguel could do though, was to win you something at the games. Specifically , one of those gigantic teddy bears you have to hold with both arms.
âYouâve never wanted to jump his bones more than when he was playing one of those water shooting games with a little boy, and had âaccidentally â missed during the first few seconds so the kid could win the last pikachu stuffy. Admitting to him when you both shared a funnel cake later that youâve never wanted to make him a dad more than in that moment.
âAnd he swears to himself that heâll keep those words in mind next time you try to reach for the condoms in his dresser drawer.
âMiguel was sure he wouldnât be allowed on 99% of the rides, but there was, thankfully, a ride he could go on. The Farris wheel.
âYou both were able to get on just after the sky turned dark, and all the fun neon lights from some of the other rides lit up with perfect lighting as you boarded.
âYou were in awe at all the lights and the sights from atop of the wheel, taking a picture to post on your insta story with 3005 from childish Gambino later. Not even noticing Miguelâs starry-eyed look at you, matching the one you had.
âOnce you two stopped at the top, Miguel couldnât help but seize the opportunity to be cheesy, and leaned in until his lips connected with yours.
â
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st
@mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout
@reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama
@scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry
@haveclayeveryday @krentkova19
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I think about sucking his cock everyday
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<3
ămy daddy didn't love me so i guess i've moved onto you
đ pairing: captain john price x fem reader
đ tags: nsfw, daddy kink, undefined age gap, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, both reader and price have a daddy kink that they indulge in with very little discussion, allusions to reader having a bad relationship with her father (but nothing concrete), price uses a lot of pet names for reader and also calls himself daddy several times
title is inspired by the song peter bogdanovich by my queen CMAT
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
If thereâs one thing you know, itâs that youâre damn good at your job.
You have to be in order to survive in this ridiculous goddamn base. There are protocols to be followed, risk assessments to carry out, weapons and equipment requisition requests to send off, and you have to handle almost all of it for Task Force 141. Thatâs one thing about working with the military â theyâre all about action, and rarely have the patience to fill in their paperwork, and then when they do itâs never done properly.
Youâre patient when you need to be, willing to push when you have to, and you make sure shit gets done. Itâs not an easy job; you work your ass off, and itâs often thankless. Most of your job is done behind the scenes, whether thatâs requisitioning on-the-fly tactical or strategic airlifts, liaising with other units, or trying desperately to smooth over any little problems that might crop up with the higher-ups.Â
Itâs challenging and exhausting, and you love it, but damn, it can be fucking infuriating. Working in a male-dominated environment is a little bit soul-destroying, with every condescending comment and lascivious gaze that lingers over your body. But none of that matters, because you donât need male approval to excel at your job. You donât need male approval for anything.
You repeat it to yourself on the daily, which is something that youâve never had to do before. But before, you werenât working with Captain John Price.
Heâs not⊠rude, per se. If anything, heâs always coolly polite. But itâs obvious, so obvious, that he just barely tolerates you. Heâs gruff, short, to-the-point, and never speaks to you outside of brusque orders. It takes weeks for him to start trusting you with even the most basic of files, and even then chunks of information are often redacted. And it shouldnât matter; youâve worked for men like him before, you know how it goes, and if anything heâs one of the better ones.
In the beginning, when you had first been assigned to the task force, Price had not been happy about it. It had been a tough transition; your assignment had been approved by Laswell in order to take some of the strain of liaising off both her and Price, but the Captain hadnât been too pleased about it. He had seen you as a sort of interloper, a silly little pencil-pusher sent in by the brass to do the grunt work of administration that no one else wants to do.
But you work hard, you always have done. And maybe⊠maybe, part of the reason that you end up busting your balls so hard is because you wantâ no. Maybe you need his approval. Youâd prefer not to think about it; itâs easier to throw yourself into your work, and pretend that youâre doing it for you.
Youâre not even sure how it started, but at some point, Price starts looking at you differently. Maybe he realises that youâre competent at your job, or maybe he just needs to get used to you. Maybe, you hope, heâs finally starting to realise that youâre good at what you do; that you can be an asset to the team, so long as they actually work with you.Â
Whatever it is, he eases off. Stops being such a hard-ass, starts giving you space to do your thing. Eventually, he starts delegating too â stops hoarding the work like a miser, and finally starts treating you like youâre capable of something more than just photocopying.
Heâs not a bad boss, not by a long shot. Heâs kind, determined, patient when it matters, with a wry sense of humour. Heâs also fiercely protective over his team, and that includes you now.Â
But heâs also older, by at least fifteen years, and heâs not always the most diligent with paperwork. Typical man of action, youâve seen it a hundred times before. Thereâs always something more important to do, and while heâs always so cognisant of your workload and careful not to add to it, he is also all too happy to let you take the reins when it comes to bureaucracy. You like to think that youâve proved yourself to him, but maybe he just respects competency.
That should be it.
But youâre so ashamed to admit that even when Price stops treating you like youâre a hostile target, you canât stop hoping for his attention. Your mental chants of I donât need male approval for anything, I donât need male approval for anything become a daily thing, and sometimes a several-times-a-day thing.
Because the thing is, Price can be a difficult man to please. Heâs always so busy that he doesnât have time to give you the approval that youâre straining for, but when he does it gives you the most shameful warm glow in your belly.Â
A brief nod or a low grunted âThanks, sweetheartâ is enough to fuel you for days now. Even better is when youâre walking along beside him, briefing him on the latest update from the higher-ups, and he leans his head in towards you as he listens intensely, sometimes even laying his large palm against the small of your back. Ostensibly, itâs to lead the way and guide you out of the path of the running cadets, but it just toes the line of professionalism and you flounder under the touch.
Itâs stupid. Youâre stupid. Heâs just a coworker, and you need to keep your issues to yourself.
âââ  ïœĄïŸâ: .✠. :âïŸ
Youâre perfectly self-aware enough to admit when youâre in a bad mood.
You start the day tired, and when you check your reflection in the mirror first thing that morning youâre greeted with the sight of a big, fuck-off pimple on your chin. Itâs big, itâs throbbing, it practically has its own fucking heartbeat. You barely restrain the urge to pick at it, though you can feel it even when youâre not looking at it.
Your mood doesnât improve when you get to the small kitchenette by your office and find that someone has used the last of the fancy French Vanilla flavoured coffee that youâve stocked for yourself. As if thatâs not bad enough, your little stash of chocolate digestives you keep for yourself for emergency bad days have disappeared too.
You clench your jaw and continue about your business. Whatever. You can survive without your coffee and chocolate.
Your resolve falters when you see the pile of paperwork on your desk, but whatever. Itâs all part of the job. A little chocolate biscuit to nibble on would definitely make your job easier, but youâre a big girl and youâre just going to have to go without.
Then you get the phone call. One that makes you want to bang your head against your desk hard enough to knock yourself unconscious so that you donât have to deal with this.
Itâs time to update the TF141 personnel files. Orders from above, since thereâs been significant changes to medical and surgical history in the last couple of months from injuries on missions.
 Normally, thatâs not such a big deal. It just involves updating their medical and technical files, making sure that nothing major has changed with regards their addresses or other personal information, even though a big portion of it ends up redacted anyway.Â
And, naturally, updating their photographs for their files.
You start easy.Â
Gaz is happy to come to your office when you text him, and he stands obediently for you as you take his picture. Heâs gotten a metal plate fitted in his kneecap from the last time his file has been updated, and he sits and chats easily with you as you go through his information. Heâs a sweet guy, and so easy to talk to, and you sigh with the knowledge that no one is going to make your job as simple and leisurely as Gaz just has.
After he leaves, you target Soap. He comes to your office as easily as Gaz, but heâs significantly more difficult to photograph.
He just keeps smiling, no matter how many times you tell him to quit it.Â
âItâs a personnel file photograph, not a photo for your Instagram.â You sigh, irritated. âI need you to have a blank, neutral expression. Itâs like a passport photo, Sergeant. Itâs for a government document.â
âCanât help it, lass.â Soap says easily, that stupid grin not even dimming. âI see a camera, I smile. Itâs muscle memory.â
You think that your irritation is only encouraging him, which only worsens your mood. In the end, you donât get a single usable photograph of him for his file. You have to give up on him, swearing that youâll come get him to try again later. He leaves your office still chuckling, like he thinks your frustration is cute.
You have tougher targets to tackle.
The difficult part isnât even taking Ghostâs photo â the difficult part is catching him in the first place.
You spend almost three hours trying to track him down (because he wonât read your texts and your phone calls go unanswered), wobbling all over base in your stupid high heels and somehow missing him by mere moments every time. You arrive in the gym, the mess, the firing range, even the barracks, only to see the manâs enormous broad back disappearing out of the other door as soon as you get there.
You can only assume that Soap had given Ghost the heads up that you were on the prowl with a mission and a camera, because the lieutenant is avoiding you like the goddamn plague.
So yeah. Youâre in a real bad fucking mood. But you canât help it â some days your job is entirely thankless, and your mood drops so low that you feel like going home and crying. But you canât, and you donât want to show weakness in front of these military idiots, so all you can do is lock your jaw and go about your business the best you can.
You go back to your office, jaw and fists clenched tight, and collapse at your desk with your head in your hands. You have to take a few deep, slow breaths to try and calm yourself, but then you make the mistake of checking your reflection and your mood sinks lower again when you see that the stupid pimple on your chin has worsened.
God, this is just not your day. You have to get these stupid files updated, or itâll fall on your head.Â
Eventually, you reluctantly stand up. Thereâs no point moping; you have a job to do, whether you like it or not, and your next victim is Captain Price.
You walk to Priceâs office swiftly, your feet aching in your stupid heels. You wish you had worn something more sensible, but⊠well. Even subconsciously, you want to impress.
When you reach his office, you throw the door open and march inside without even bothering to knock.Â
Price is sitting behind his desk, and his head snaps up as soon as you walk in. His expression is set in a hard scowl, though it softens when he sees who it is. You guess you donât exactly pose much of a threat, so he sees no use in posturing.
âI need you for a moment.â You bite out, allowing the door to slam shut behind you.
You hear Price sigh, before he leans back and settles into his chair, making himself comfortable. Heâs wearing the same dark compression shirt that he usually wears for training exercises or to the gym, and heâs recently groomed his beard down too. He looks good, though it takes a colossal amount of effort for you to not notice, because you have other things you need to focus on right now.
âHello to you too, love.â He grunts, wiping a hand over his eyes. âWhatâs the problem?â
You struggle not to react to that, his low voice both soothing and igniting something in your blood. You take a breath, try to calm down. Youâre a professional, and youâre not here to embarrass yourself in front of the captain.
âIâm updating personnel files,â You say, and this time it comes out calm and steady, âI need to take a picture of you.â
Priceâs gaze lingers on you, his stern brow softening a little. For a moment, you think that maybe this is actually going to be easy. That heâll just stand up and take the fucking picture, so that the two of you can go back to your jobs and relax for the rest of the day.
But thenâ
âJesus, kid.â He sighs, already shaking his head. âIâm up to my eyes right now. Leave it âtill tomorrow.â
For a moment, you donât react at all. You just stare at him, letting those dismissive words settle over you. Heâs already looking back at his paperwork, mission briefings and maps littering the desk, and you feel so effectively dismissed. You feel small, so silly and stupid standing in front of him in a way that you havenât felt since you first started working with the task force. You had thought that you were past this, that you had earned some meagre sort of respect from him.
âI need it done today.â You say, and your voice comes out a little hollow to your own ears.
You donât need male validation. You donât. But damn, youâve had a rough day and the fact that your captain isnât even bothering to look at you makes you want to cry.
Price sighs, and rubs at the crease between his eyes. He looks just as tired as you feel.
âYeah, well. I donât have time. Tomorrow.â
You swallow, pursing your lips. Heâs so effortlessly dominant, which means that his careless dismissal stings all the more.
âI have to get the whole team done,â You say, struggling to keep your voice firm. âSoap wouldnât stop smiling for the camera, I couldnât find Farah anywhere, and Ghostââ
Price gives a sharp, derisive snort. âForget Ghost.â
You scowl. âI need to do the whole squad.â
âNot Ghost.â Price repeats, this time slower and with more emphasis. âSimon doesnât do photos.â
You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Youâve been working alongside the task force for a while now, and youâre familiar with Lieutenant Rileyâs penchant for covering his face. Itâs not something you have a problem with â usually.
âThereâs no reason for him to be the exception to personnel photos, Captain.â You say through gritted teeth. âEveryone else is being photographed. The task force might be covert, but Lieutenant Riley is no moreââ
âChrist, enough.â Price snaps, his voice a deep boom that has your mouth closing with a click. âThe One Four One is my squad, in case youâve forgotten. I know these lads, and Iâm telling you to leave it out.â
You stare, a little taken aback by the harshness in his voice. He hasnât been this sharp with you in months, not since you had started to prove yourself competent, useful. Now, you can see the warning signs of his bad mood; the circles under his eyes are pronounced, his skin dull in the ugly fluorescent lights of his office. He looks exhausted, his skin lined and dry like he hasnât been drinking enough water.
You realise, a little too late, that you might have been pushing your luck by insisting on something as silly as personnel file photos. TF 141 had only returned from deployment at the beginning of the week, and Price has no doubt been drowning in reports since.
âThis is why I told Laswell you werenât necessary,â His snarl is entirely unlike him, and he rubs his face furiously, his palms rasping through his beard. âI donât need someone coming in here and making demands of my squad forâ for fucking photographs.â
You inhale shakily through your nose; to your utter horror, you can feel your eyes burn with hot wet tears. Itâs stupid â youâve dealt with far crueller words from far harsher men. The nature of your job often puts you in the firing line for frustration, and when it bubbles over itâs frequently directed at you.Â
But this⊠this feels different, for some reason. Youâve been working your ass off to try and earn some recognition from Price, to show him that youâre a valuable asset to the team, and so his sharp, frustrated dismissal of you cuts deeper than it should.
You hate that your eyes are burning like this. You donât want Price to think of you as useless, or as the silly little girl who was put on the team by the brass who canât even do her job right. He was just starting to think of you as competent, and it hurts your ego to have to go to him for help with something that you should be more than capable of handling yourself in the first place.
âRight,â You say, and even youâre startled by the sharpness in your tone. âFine. Forget the file updates, then.â
You step forward, jaw clenched hard, and toss the files youâve been carrying around all day onto his desk. They hit the surface with a smack that feels uncomfortably loud in the tense silence thatâs fallen over the room.
âIâll tell the higher-ups that youâre handling it.â You continue, your voice coming out brattier than youâd like. âSince obviously I have no idea what Iâm doingââ
âOh, donât do that.â Price sighs, as though youâre the one being unreasonable. âWhat Iâm saying is, if youâre going to work with the team, you have to understand the teamââ
That, you think, might just push you over the edge.
âDo you think Iâm stupid?â You snap out, and Priceâs mouth closes. âDâyou think Iâmâ that Iâm some kind of idiot?â
Price blinks. It seems like youâve managed to take him by surprise, as though your bad mood rivals his just enough to pull him out of his own grumpy form entirely. He opens his mouth again, but youâre not ready to hear him speak again just yet.
âIâm here because Laswell put in a request for me to work with you and your squad, Captain. Iâm considered an asset to the teams that I work with,â Youâre scowling thunderously, all the tension and frustration thatâs been mounting all day spilling over. âAnd I donât have to put up with being dismissed and unappreciated when I know that I would be respected in other squads for the work that I do.â
Price raises his hands, a frown creasing his brow. âKid, thatâs notââ
Usually, being called âkidâ by Price has a warm glow settling in your stomach that youâre absolutely not interested in examining, but this time it only lights an infuriated fire in your belly.Â
âDonât!â You snap, your breath juddering unsteadily. âGod, you think I enjoy being treated like an idiot? You think I havenât had to deal with this from men my whole career? My whole life? Even my fatherââ
To your abject horror, a lump forms in your throat and you canât finish that sentence. Your eyes are hot with unshed tears, and youâre pretty sure your lip is trembling.Â
Price stands, his stern expression slackening into something like uncomfortable surprise as he moves to step around the desk.
âHey,â He soothes, lifting his hands. âIâm not your father.â
âI know that!â You snap, irate. Youâre frustrated with yourself, embarrassed at what youâve unintentionally given away. âI wouldnât want you to be!â
Priceâs expression flickers, as though he canât decide quite how to react to you. Youâre more than aware that youâre being childish, but you find yourself unable to temper your overreactions. In the face of your tears and your frustrated anger, Price looks like heâs at a loss.
âAll Iâve done is work hard, and tried to take the burden off you to make your job a little easier.â You continue before he can interrupt again. âAnd all I get in return is stress, and my chocolate biscuits eaten, and breakouts, andâ andââ
âKidââ
âThe only person who wasnât an absolute dickhead to me today was Garrick,â You rage, on a roll now. âEveryone else has just been soâ and look how bad my skin has gotten from the stress of having to deal with men who want to act like childrenââ
Price watches you with an expression that is plainly bewildered as you gesture at the stupid pimple thatâs been throbbing on your chin all day. You donât even think youâre making sense, too lost in your frustration and humiliation to be properly aware of what youâre saying.Â
âYour⊠skin.â He repeats, a little disbelieving.Â
You whirl away, agitated. Youâre not getting your point across well, and Price must think youâre simply demented.Â
âHey,â He says slowly, approaching from around the side of his desk. âI didnât mean to suggest that you werenât doing a decent jobââ
âWhatever.â You mutter, running your hands over your skirt in an attempt to straighten out the creases. âWhatever.â
Itâs too little, too late. Heâs always been a bit of a hardass, and youâve always tried so hard to please him, to impress him. But you canât bear to make a fool of yourself like this any longer.
âIâll leave the paperwork to you. Update it, or donât. It doesnât matter.â You say shortly, turning on your heel and marching towards the door.
âWait,â Price calls out. His voice is firm, echoing with the grim certainty of a man who is used to being obeyed.
But youâre not one of his soldiers, and his command falls on deaf ears. Your skin is still prickling with humiliation; you donât think youâve ever been so desperate to get away from the Captain before.
âSweetheart, just wait a minute,â Price says, and this time you can hear the exasperation in his voice. âI understand that youâre stressed, thatâs normal. Everyone gets stressed in this line of work. But you canât just go and get your knickers in a twist because some of the lads are beinâ difficultââ
âMy knickers are none of your business!â You yell. Truthfully, itâs more of a shriek, high-pitched and unsteady enough to have Priceâs eyes widening and darting towards the door as though worried about someone overhearing from the corridor.
âWhoa, okay,â Price says with the air of trying to soothe a spooked horse. âYou're right. Your... knickers... ain't my concern. But helping keep this squad running smoothly is, and that can't happen if my admin is on edge."
âOh, give me a break!â Youâre beyond on-edge now, sailing right into fury. âYou ignore me most of the time when you're not on deployment, you dismiss me when Iâm just trying to do my job, but now youâre telling me you need me to not be on edge?â
Youâve reached the door now, your hand clenched tight around the doorhandle as you take one last moment to turn and look at him. Heâs stepping towards you, no doubt with the intent to stop you before you can leave, but you donât plan on giving him the chance.
âKid, just hang on a damn minuteââ
âSort the files yourself, or do whatever you want.â You bite out, yanking the door open but pausing in the doorway. âI donât even care anymore. Itâs your squad, you do it.â
Price takes a breath, visibly fighting for patience. Truthfully, you donât know how he hasnât lost his head with you already. He was already exhausted and in an obviously bad mood when you had stormed in here, and it couldnât be more obvious that youâve just made it worse with all of your frenzied anger and borderline hysteria.Â
The fact that Price is staying calm and level even in the face of your stress-induced meltdown only makes you feel all the more ridiculous. You wish he would get angry, that he would snap at you like he had when you had first walked in â at least that way you could pretend that you donât notice the way his stressed scowl had melted into a look of concern as soon as he had seen the tears welling up in your stinging eyes.
âAnd you donât have to wear that stupid hat, weâre indoors!â You yell, your voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.
You just have enough time to see his hand reach up to touch the brim of his boonie hat before you hurriedly bolt out of the room, escaping into the corridor before he can stop you.
âââ  ïœĄïŸâ: .✠. :âïŸ
ââ just thinking that maybe Iâd be better suited with another team, thatâs all. I heard Kortacâs liaison is approaching maternity leaveââ
âThat position is going to be filled internally,â Laswellâs voice is calm over the secure phoneline, a stark contrast to the shaky undertone of stress in your own. âBesides, organising a transfer like that is more trouble than itâs worth.â Thereâs a pause, then a sigh crackles over the phone. âYou still havenât explained what happened. As far as I can see, you were doing good work there.â
Yeah, you think sourly, because all you see is the paperwork end of it.
â... Internal conflict.â You mutter, playing with the fraying edge of your sweater sleeve.Â
Thereâs a long pause, protracted enough that it makes you squirm. You know what sheâs thinking â in your line of work, itâs impossible to avoid clashing with some of the big dominant personalities who are used to getting away with whatever they want. But youâve always been able to handle it, well-versed enough in diplomacy to know when to stand your ground and when to bow out to avoid unnecessary strife.Â
âInternal conflict.â Laswell repeats, her voice as bland as youâve ever heard it. âMeaning?â
God, it feels like youâre disappointing your mom or something. You scrub a hand over your face, pacing in the living room of your small apartment.
âI know how it sounds,â You say, âButâ they donât want to work with me. Thereâs only so much I can do if Iâm being met with resistance at every cornerââ
âYouâve worked with resistant squads before,â Laswell interrupts. âItâs part of the job.â
âYes, butâŠâ You start, before trailing off.Â
She has a point, of course. It is part of the job. Thereâs no way to professionally explain to your superior that the reason this assignment is so difficult is because you have a mortifying crush on the Captain of the Task Force. Itâs making you stupid, making all the stupid bullshit that youâre usually able to look past feel so much worse, especially because all youâve ever wanted was Priceâs approval.
Another sigh. This one, at least, sounds a little more sympathetic.
âLook,â Laswell says, and this time her voice is a little gentler. âIâve never given you an assignment that I didnât think you could handle. Whatever is going on, you need to sort it. Youâre a capable girl, and the One Four One is far from the most difficult team youâve had to deal with. There might be some big personalities there, but nothing that you shouldnât be able to tackle.â
âMhm.â You grunt noncommittally.
âSort out whateverâs going on with you.â Laswellâs tone leaves no room for argument, her suggestion falling just short of a command. âIf whatever issues youâre experiencing continue, Iâll talk to Johnââ
âNo!â You blurt.
God, you canât think of anything worse. Youâve already made a show of yourself in front of him, the last thing you need is for him to learn that youâve gone crying to Laswell about the whole thing. You donât want him to think of you as any more of a useless little girl than he doubtlessly already does.
âNo,â You repeat, calmer this time as you clear your throat. âIâll⊠sort it. Sorry to bother you with this, maâam.â
Laswell hums, and you can imagine her eyes narrowing. Judging by the wind whistling in the background of the call, sheâs not anywhere near her cushy office. Youâve interrupted her on whatever assignment sheâs on, and sheâs been kind enough to listen to your silly little complaints for at least fifteen minutes of her valuable time. You feel more ridiculous than ever, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose.
â... Right.â She says. âFine. Keep me updated on the situation. I want a sitrep by the end of the week, understood?â
âYes, maâam.âÂ
You understand whatâs not being said. Laswell expects you to work your own shit out, but you can hear the concern in her voice when she demands an update. All you can do is agree. Laswell has been by your side throughout your whole career, always having a hand in your assignments and your progression, and sheâs always been an advocate for you and what youâre capable of. Now, after this conversation, you feel silly for getting so overwhelmed in the face of what is a relatively minor obstacle.
âGood. Iâll speak to you then.â
You hum, wish her goodbye and good luck, and hang up the phone.
For a long moment afterwards, you sit in silence in your living room. God, how did all of this spiral into such a mess?
For the last few days, youâve been avoiding the base entirely. You have a few PTO days built up, and youâve taken the opportunity to just chill out. Itâs the first chance youâve had to relax properly in months, since you had started working with the task force. The space is good, and itâs needed.
You get out of the headspace of work, and reports, and files and requisitions and debriefs, and instead treat yourself with full body self-care. You exfoliate, you moisturise, you use a hair mask, you take bubble baths. You even catch up on the trashy Netflix romance series that you had put on hold for ages, just waiting for some free time to indulge.
And you almost, almost, forget about why youâre hiding away in your little flat in the first place.
But your third day off creeps around, and you canât help but feel as though your little bubble of isolation is about to pop. Thereâs only so much time away from the office that youâre able to swing, and the longer away the more you feel that your position on the team is untenable. No matter how you currently feel about the task force and your place with them, youâre not willing to let your hard work go down the drain just because youâre too cowardly to face them again after your little meltdown.
So, you go back to work after your little break away.
You manage to slink into your office mostly unseen, other than polite helloâs from other admin staff as you slip through the halls. Your office is far from prime real estate when it comes to office space on base â itâs well out of the way, down several corridors that no one ever goes down, and once you get past the main thoroughfares you donât come across anyone. Even still, it feels a little like youâre doing a walk of shame, but you walk with your head held high before you finally get your office door closed behind you.Â
To your surprise, your desk is clear. Typically, any slight break away from your desk results in work piling up on it, just waiting for your attention once you get back. You donât know what to make of the absence of work; you canât help but wonder, somewhat uncomfortably, if Price had taken your words to heart and dealt with all of the paperwork himself.
You check the drawers of your desk too, just in case, and come up empty yet again.Â
Well. Okay, then.Â
You sign into your desktop, waiting for the encryption program to load before accessing your emails. Thereâs a lot to catch up on, so you spend the next hour or so organising your to-do list in order of urgency.
You get lost in making your little lists, allowing yourself to relax into finding order in your schedule. You barely even look up until thereâs a soft knock on your office door, and by the time youâve raised your head the door has opened and Farah has slipped inside.
âOh,â You straighten up in surprise. âCommander. What can I do for you?â
Itâs a surprise to see her, especially since you hadnât received any email correspondence. Your office is tucked away down a remote corridor, and soldierâs usually prefer to just email you their requests rather than make the trek down.
Farah offers a polite smile, approaching your desk. âI hear you are taking photographs.â
Your smile slips a little. âOh. No, actually, I wasnâtââ
âCaptain Price said I was to be photographed,â She says, pulling the chair out opposite you and watching you expectantly. âI tried to find you yesterday, and the day before, but I believe you weren't on base.â
You shift, feeling abruptly rather awkward. âRight. I wasâ Price said that to you?â
âMhm.â Farah leans back in the chair, her dark eyes alert as they track over your face. âHe said that you have been stressed.â
You feel your face heat, mortified. Oh, god. How embarrassing. Has Price given the team a goddamn debrief on your little meltdown? Farah tilts her head as though she knows what youâre thinking, and a tiny smile quirks at the corner of her lips.
âThatâs all he said,â She says. âThat, and that we should try to make your job a little easier.â
âOh.â You shift, embarrassed and awkward. âIâ Listen, I had a⊠rough day at work a few days ago, thatâs all. Iâm notâ things are fine.â
Farah just nods as though thatâs perfectly convincing, and you find yourself wildly appreciative of her for a moment.
âSo, then,â She says, and raises her eyebrows. âThe picture?â
You canât find a way to explain that you had thrown that particular responsibility right back at Price in a fit of pique, but it turns out you donât have to. Farah produces a slim folder that you hadnât noticed her holding, and you realise with another flush of embarrassment that itâs her personnel file.
âThere wasnât much to update, just a recent blood work test.â She says as she lays it on your desk.Â
âThatâs⊠thanks.â You say weakly, taking the file in hand. You flick through it briefly, feeling something in your stomach squirm at the sight of Farahâs details all filled in â Priceâs handwriting is unmistakable, the small neat blocky letters standing out amongst the messy scrawl of Farahâs medical report.
You dig out your camera, still a little flustered, and direct Farah to stand against your plain white-painted wall. Sheâs an easy subject to photograph; she stands perfectly still, unsmiling, and you get the perfect picture after only a couple of attempts.
âLovely,â You murmur, flicking through the pictures. âThank you.â
Farah hums. Youâre expecting her to dismiss herself, and it takes a moment for you to realise that sheâs still lingering. You glance up, blinking, only to find that sheâs standing with her lips pursed, obviously considering something.
âThe Captain is worried about you.â She says, as though itâs the most natural thing in the world. âIs everything alright?â
You gape at her like a moron, camera still hanging loosely from your hands. You feel uncomfortably seen; thereâs no way that Farah could know what happened, but sheâs looking at you with an awful lot of sympathy right now.
âWhat?â You squeak.
âYou fought?â Farah speaks slowly, obviously conscious of overstepping her boundaries. âI donât mean to pry, itâs justâŠâ
âNo, thatâs okay.â You say hastily. âWe didnâtâ there was no fighting, exactly.â
She just nods, as if youâre making perfect sense, then smiles politely. She gathers herself up and steps towards the door, and you feel your head spinning as she turns to go.Â
âYou look tired,â Farah murmurs, low enough that you almost miss it. âWhen Price wants to fix things, let him.â
âMhm.â You nod quickly without really hearing her. Youâre pretty sure youâd agree to anything right now just to escape the knowing intensity of Farahâs gaze. âYeah, of course.â
After Farah leaves, you feel like you need another day off. Itâs all you can do to just sit in your comfortably padded office chair and groan like a moron, because Jesus Christ youâve made such a mess of things.Â
It was bad enough when you were pining like an idiot from afar; youâve had crushes before, and you know that you would have outgrown it eventually. But then you had your stupid little meltdown in front of Price, and revealed more than you intended, and all of a sudden youâve made yourself into a fool in front of the squad youâve tried so hard to impress these last few months.
You have to try hard not to spiral. In fact, itâs a challenge not to cave and grab your phone to call Laswell all over again to demand a reassignment right this second. You have a pretty good idea of what sheâd say to you in response, but still, the impulse remains.
All you can do is put it from your mind. You potter about, printing Farahâs photograph so you can tuck it neatly into her file with a paperclip, and then decide to start replying to the many emails that have built up in your absence.
The emails vary in tone, from polite enquiries to not-so-polite demands for you to solve some administrative issues, and you sigh quietly as you respond to some of the more snotty messages from upper management. And if youâre a little bit passive aggressive, then you donât think anyone can blame you.
Your mind has finally quietened, focusing on your work as the buzz of your thoughts settle down, when another knock sounds out from your door. This one is firmer than Farahâs soft knock from earlier, and a little louder, though this time you donât look up from your screen.
âCome in.â You call, chewing at your lip as you struggle to keep the wording of your email civil.
Youâre half-expecting it to be Soap this time around, or maybe one of the recruits hoping to get you to sign off on their leave. So when you finally glance up only to catch sight of the broad, thick-shouldered figure of Captain Price stepping into your office, you think you might go into cardiac arrest.
Email abandoned, you half jolt to your feet before changing your mind mid-movement and attempting to sit back down. It ends up being a humiliating sort of jerky motion, and you pray that he somehow missed it entirely.
âCaptain.â You wheeze, your voice coming out a little weak.
Priceâs cool blue eyes dart over your face and then down the length of your body, and you become suddenly, mortifyingly aware of the state youâre in. You might not want to admit it, but your wardrobe definitely changes when the Captain isnât on deployment. Instead of professional trousers, you wear your tight knee-length pencil skirts and fitted shirts, and totter around in your heels. And itâs silly, but⊠well, you canât help but notice the way Priceâs eyes follow you when you dress like that, and you like his attention on you.
Except today, you hadnât been planning on running into Price. You hadnât planned on seeing anyone, so you had dressed for comfort â youâre wearing a pair of frumpy grey wool trousers and a super over-sized soft purple sweater that practically swallows you whole. You havenât even done your hair nicely, and you curse yourself. This has to be the least sexy youâve looked in months.
âDâyouâve a moment, love?âÂ
His voice seems loud in the quiet of your office, even though realistically you know heâs only speaking in a murmur. In the quiet days youâve spent alone in your apartment, youâd almost forgotten how lovely and low and gruff his voice is, and you feel your toes curl in your shoes at the sound of it.
Itâs not as though you can refuse him, though youâre already embarrassingly aware of the way in which you had stormed off the last time you had seen him.
âYeah.â You swallow thickly in an attempt to strengthen your voice, but it still comes out high and thready. âSure.â
As if he had just been waiting for permission, Price steps into the room properly and closes the door behind him. All of a sudden, the room feels a little claustrophobic. Price is a big man, broad-shouldered and thickly built with a soft layer of fat cushioning those hard muscles, and you canât help but feel as though his presence is sucking all of the air out of the room.
But still, he approaches slowly, like youâre some kind of feral cat. Those sharp eyes of his are still tracking over you; he never misses a beat, and you know that heâs taking stock of you in the same way he would for an enemy out on the field. You feel raw, uncomfortably vulnerable. You find yourself wishing wildly and ridiculously that you had worn your usual fitted shirt and pencil skirt, or at least put on a bit of makeup.
âYou look rested.â He notes, coming to a slow stop just in front of your desk.
You suddenly curse your last minute choice to stay seated, because now Priceâs big body is towering over you in a way thatâs honestly making your head swim a little.
âYeah.â Your voice is a little hoarse. âI guess.â
Price nods, inhales through his nose. A moment passes before he clears his throat and reaches out to place a handful of files on your desk. Despite the plain manila envelopes, you recognise them for what they are almost immediately; the personnel files for 141.
âFinished âem off for you while you were gone.â He says gruffly, as though it were no big deal. âNearly had to nail Soap down to a chair for that damn photo.â
You stare at the files for a long moment, making no move to open them. You find yourself totally, utterly lost for words.Â
âThis isââ You start to say, and truthfully youâre not sure where youâre going with that. You think youâre about to thank him, but he doesnât really give you the chance to.
âWhy donât we talk?â He says, and motions to the dinky little couch in the corner of the room as if he owns it.
You hesitate a moment, a little peeved about the effortless way he takes command in your own office, but relent and push yourself up from the desk. You donât make eye contact with Price as you step around him, walking to the corner, but you can feel his eyes on you all the same.
 The couch had come with the office, and you donât even really want to think about how old it is, but you sink down awkwardly onto it anyway. The cushions are worn and threadbare and the springs creak gratingly when you settle your weight onto it, but itâs fine. It does the job.
Youâre half-expecting Price to drag the spare chair at your desk over so he can sit opposite you â youâre not expecting him to step right up next to you before he drops down next to you, sighing as his thick thighs spread wide.
You barely bite back a squeak, a little bewildered. Youâre not surprised that heâs asked to talk to you. Your behaviour had been wildly inappropriate, and you couldnât exactly protest if heâs decided to caution you or something.
But you had expected it to be a more formal affair; sitting together on the pathetic, dingy little couch in your office feels entirely too casual for the dressing down youâre sure youâre about to receive.
âThink weâre due a discussion about the other day.â He says, gentler than you had been expecting.
You avoid his eyes, though you can feel his stare boring into the side of your face. Ugh. Time to eat humble pie, you think miserably.Â
âIâm sorry, sir.â You keep your voice as dispassionate and prim as possible. âMy behaviour was unprofessional and entirely unacceptable, and I have no excuse. It wonât happen again, I assure you.â
Itâs as professional an apology as you can manage, and you chance a quick side glance at him to see his reaction. Your stomach sinks when you see that his brow is creased in a frown, and you panic a little at the realisation that your apology hasnât helped matters at all.
âWell,â His voice is gruff enough to elicit a little shiver from you. âI wasnâtââ He clears his throat. âI wasnât looking for an apology.â
That finally makes you turn properly, your eyes darting nervously over his face. Heâs already watching you, his blue eyes searing under the brim of his stupid hat. Heâs trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him; the salt and pepper bristles of his moustache and chops are neat and shortened. He looks good, though you try not to notice. He doesnât look as dehydrated or drained as he did a few days ago either, though he still leans into the couch with an air of quiet exhaustion.
âPaperwork has never been my favourite thing in the world,â He confesses with an air of chagrin thatâs painfully endearing to you. âAlways found it a pain, to be honest. Puts me right out of sorts. I was⊠short with you, the other day.â
You frown, making yourself small on the couch. âYou said I wasnât necessary.â
Price winces, then reaches up and pulls his boonie hat off his head so that he can drag a hand over his short-cropped hair. Though you had insulted it only the other day, it strikes you as odd to see him with a bare head.
âShouldnât have said that.â He mumbles, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hat hang from his hands. âYouâve been great these last few months. Donât know what Iâd have done without you, sometimes.â
Youâre stupid. Itâs the only reason you can think of to explain the way blood rushes to your head and turns your face hot, your whole body going hot and prickly in response to his low praise. You fidget, glance away, and pray he doesnât notice.Â
âYou know Iâm no good at deskwork,â He says, and leans in a little closer like he thinks youâre not listening properly. âDonât have the head for it. I think youâre the reason the team runs so smoothly in the first place, love.â
The flattery is being laid on a little too thick, but it works. You fall for it entirely, a warm glow settling over you like a blanket, wrapping around you tight and soothing the jagged edges of your anger and anxiety. You hate that youâre so easy to appease, a couple of sweet compliments and assurances falling from your Captainâs lips assuaging all that upset that youâve been carrying around with you for days now.
But still, part of you isnât quite willing to let go of the sting, the hurt that his words and his harsh tone had caused.Â
âIs this you apologising, then?â You ask, watching him from the corner of your eye.
He smiles, close-mouthed. âYeah. It is. Not doinâ too good, am I?â
âYouâre doing okay.â You murmur, before deciding to try to be a bit cheeky. âBut you can keep going, if youâd like.â
Price laughs, rich and warm and low. You donât think youâve ever actually heard him laugh in all the months youâve been working with the task force, and the sound of it rumbles right into your bones, settling something inside of you and finally allowing you to relax. No longer tense with stress, you melt a little into the corner of the couch.
âShouldnât have snapped at you,â He says slowly. âYou do good work. Great work. You shouldnât feel like youâre not a valued member of the team.â
You swallow thickly. You feel too warm, your head swimming a little. His attention feels too heavy, heating your blood and going straight to your head.
âI overreacted,â You mumble reluctantly. âI shouldnât⊠your hat isnât stupid.â
That gets another bark of laughter out of Price, and he slaps a hand down onto your knee. The contact makes you jolt, eyes widening, but Priceâs hand doesnât shift. His palm is so large, spread across your thigh as his fingers curl over your knee. The touch feels almost scorching even through the thick fabric of your trousers.
All of a sudden, your tongue feels very thick in your mouth. The hand on your knee is not in any way suggestive; itâs chaste, innocent, just resting there like a reminder that he wants your attention on him (as if it could be anywhere else). But your nerves are jangling all of a sudden, every one of your senses straining towards him as you hold your breath.
âThe hat isnât the problem,â Price mutters, though you barely hear him. âI wanted to ask you about something else you said, love. Something you said about your father.â
That has some of the heat in your veins cooling, your eyes blowing wide. âIâ what?â
To your bewilderment, Priceâs cheeks have reddened beneath the whiskers of his beard and moustache. Despite his clear chagrin, he doesnât break eye contact with you, his thick fingers squeezing cautiously around your knee.Â
âDonât mean to overstep,â He assures you quietly. âAndâ and donât mind me if Iâm talkinâ nonsense. But I know that youâve been working so hard, and youâve got a tough job. Canât be easy. And I just wanted to say that if you'd like some⊠guidance â someone to steer you on the right path, that isâ well, that Iâm here if you ever want to talk."
Oh god. You feel your mouth go dry.Â
Itâs funny, because even though Price isnât even yet forty, heâs always seemed so much older. Maybe itâs the weight of the responsibility that he carries on his shoulders, or the battle-hardened icy blue eyes, or the paternal sense of protectiveness that he shows over his team. Heâs always been like an almost father figure for the squad, regardless of age; youâve seen the way heâs so protective over Ghost, the way he claps Soap on the back or shoulders in praise to boost him up, the way he beams with pride when Farah excels, the way he always makes time to guide or give advice to Gaz.
Itâs sweet. Heâs always been sweet, so aware of the personalities on his team, even when heâs acting like that typical military authority figure.Â
"Sounds like you want to be my daddy." You mean to say it in a derogatory fashion, laughing as though it's ridiculous, though when it comes out you can hear that itâs missing some of the sarcasm you had intended.
Price reacts instantly. He reels back, eyes widening, the pink in his cheeks flares into a deep red flush, and you see his chest heave as his breath catches. You hadnât been expecting a reaction like this; Price looks as though the words have hit him like a physical slap.
âJesus. Thatâs notââ He says, and the gravelly hoarseness in his voice is a shock. âThatâs not what I meant.â
Thereâs a moment of charged silence. Fuck, what have you done? Why would you say that? Why would you say that, to the captain of your task force? Hadnât you embarrassed yourself enough in front of him the day you had had your silly little meltdown? Itâs like you just canât keep your damn mouth shut around him, like your brain turns to mush the second he looks at you and you just lose the run of yourself.
âIâm sorry.â You blurt. âI shouldnât have said that. I donât know whatâ I didnât mean it.â
The next silence is even worse than the last, tension humming between you like a live wire. Heâs so close to you that his scent fills your nose â a blend of sweet cigar smoke, sharp gunpowder, and a heady masculine musk. You feel so fucking stupid, and more than a little panicked. You donât think you could survive the humiliation of having to call Laswell and beg for a reassignment twice in one day just because youâve completely humiliated yourself in front of the Captain again.
Price swallows, the sound painfully loud in the silence.
âRight.â He says slowly, before coughing roughly to clear his throat. âMm. âCourse. I didnât mean toâ perhaps I overstepped. Since you mentioned your fatherââ
âI donât want to talk about my father.â You say swiftly.
God, you feel like your issues are out on display with a big damn spotlight. You feel so pathetic, so damn pitiful, as though your desperate need for approval and affection from an older male authority figure is written across your forehead.
But if your issues are on display, then so are Priceâs, because you canât help but notice that the vibrant red flush on his cheeks hasnât faded. If anything, that deep flush has spread down his throat and over his chest; you can see how the skin thatâs stretched over his pectoral muscles is glowing crimson beneath his shirt.
A niggling boldness begins to creep in, and you find yourself straightening on the couch. You turn, bring one of your legs up on the couch so that you can turn your whole body towards him, one of your elbows resting on the back cushion of the couch.Â
Priceâs eyes sharpen when your body turns towards him, and his body draws tense. Those cool blue eyes dart over you, and youâre surprised to see heat in them despite your oversized purple jumper and unflattering wool trousers. The whisper of his fatigues brushing against the fabric of your own trousers is both a distraction and an invitation, your thighs sliding surreptitiously against each other.
âWhat if I did mean it?â You blurt out before your courage can flee you.
Price goes so still it looks preternatural, even the breaths in his chest slowing.Â
âKid.â He says, and it sounds like a warning.
You donât heed it, adjusting yourself so that youâre shuffling closer yet again. You donât think youâve ever been so close to him, his scent and his body and his heated gaze filling up your consciousness until heâs all that youâre aware of.
âWhat if I meant it?â You ask again, the whisper coming out low but charged.Â
Price takes a breath that sounds like a groan, and it surprises you. You hadnât expected that reaction; it sends a trickle of heated desire running down your spine, and youâre startled by how much you want him in this moment.
âDâyou know what youâre asking for?â He asks, the gravel in his voice flooding wet heat between your legs.Â
His carefully laced words linger in the space between you, daring you to accept, to shred the formal boundary that looms between the two of you. You get the sense that youâre walking a fine line here, that youâre getting close to the point of no return.Â
âYes.â You breathe, although youâre not entirely sure that you do know what youâre asking for. All you know is that heâs so close, and heâs staring at you with an expression of such hunger that itâs making you feel weak.
Price moves fast for such a big man, and all you can do is let out a soft sound of surprise when one of his big hands wraps around the back of your neck to pull you in. A deep, guttural sound escapes him when his lips crash into yours, his mouth demanding and greedy.
It feels like you go both lax and rigid simultaneously, before you positively light up. The hand that Price has wrapped around the back of your neck keeps you grounded, and before you can stop yourself youâre burrowing closer. It feels like the tension, your childish argument, the sexual friction â everything has culminated to this electrifying moment, where Priceâs full lips are consuming yours, the hair of his beard rubbing over your cheeks and chin and keeping your nerves straining towards him.
The kiss doesnât start out slow; it skips straight to hungry, fast and dirty, with Priceâs big hands on your hip and the back of your neck, holding and guiding you. Overwhelming.Â
Priceâs big fucking body is leaning in, caging you against the couch. The wide shoulders and barrel-chested mass of him pressing you into the cushions is just short of breath-taking, but itâs not enough. You want to be right up against him, under his skin.
You swing your leg over Priceâs, and climb up into his lap. His thighs are thick beneath you, wide and muscled, but youâre still hesitant to fully settle your weight against him. You just want to be closer, to feel the heat of him pressed against you, but the second you start moving Price grabs at your hips and pulls you down properly, uncaring of your weight.
âIâve beenââ You manage to say in between kisses, your words muffled and a little wet. âIâve been working my ass off, for the squad, for you, and you never say or do anythingââ
Price grunts, grappling with his sudden lapful of you. His eyes meet yours, and in them, you think you might see the spark of admiration, for your brave stupidity if nothing else.Â
âSh, I know,â He says as he grips at your hips under your oversized jumper, encouraging you to settle down your full weight on his thighs. âI know, love, youâve been working so hard. What would I do without you, huh?â
And the thing is, youâre a very capable woman. Youâve had to be, in order to survive in your line of work. You know that youâre capable, you know that you do good work, you know that you help keep the wheels greased and everything moving behind the scenes for the 141, but even still, Priceâs praise sinks into you like warm honey.
âWatching you walk around in those tight little skirts, Christ.â He hums, and his big palms land on your ass and squeeze there suggestively. âAnd those heelsâ completely impractical for a military base like this.â
You wheeze a laugh, clutching at his shoulders. It feels completely surreal that youâre currently perched in your Captainâs lap, with his big shovel-like hands groping your bum as he nips at your lips and confesses that heâs been watching you. It goes straight to your head, makes you dizzy, makes you wish wildly that you had worn one of those skirts for him today.
Oh, you could get used to this. Realistically you know the size difference between you two isnât that immense, but Price is built like a man whose reality is all war, and when he shifts beneath you his muscles roll, unwittingly showing off his physique. You think you could stay here forever, feeling safe in a big manâs lap, cushioned by his body as he tells you that youâre valuable, and important.
âFuckinâ hell,â Price groans, nipping at your lower lip before capturing your mouth wholly again. âYouâre a handful.â
Youâd love to argue that â you like to think that youâre perfectly measured and sensible, after all â but youâre already squirming in his lap, your legs spread wide over his thighs. Arousal pools in your stomach, makes you slick your knickers, and you canât stop the slow grind your hips trace against his thigh.
Priceâs breath shudders out of his chest, and his hands clench tight around your hips. âHang on a sec,â He breathes, âHold on. Iâm stillâ Iâm still your Captainââ
You think that itâs meant to be a warning, or at least a word of caution about the precarious situation youâre in regarding professionalism and inappropriate workplace relationships. What youâre doing right now is ridiculous, after all. Youâre still on base, youâre in your office, and if the two of you get caught you donât even want to think about the consequences. The fraternisation rule shouldnât apply here, since youâre only considered part of the team by a mere technicality, but even in your lust-hazed mind you can still recognise that sitting on his lap and kissing like this at your workplace is wildly inappropriate.
But if it is a warning, it doesnât work. The reminder of his authority only inflames you further, and a quiet whimper is torn from your throat when you rock against his lap.
He swears, and beneath you his cock stirs in his fatigues. You can feel the way it fills out where itâs pressed against the seam of your trousers, right between your legs. You reflexively squish your thighs together, tightening them around his hips.
âChrist,â He grits out like a curse. âAlright, then.â
He moves quickly, his hands secure on your back as he lunges forward, flipping you over so that youâre laying on your back on the shoddy, worn-down couch. You go so easily âÂ
youâre soft now, pliable and eager to please, and he could direct you anywhere he wanted.
Heâs too large to be climbing on top of you on a couch like this, but somehow it doesnât even matter. Now that heâs above you, holding himself up with those strong arms on either side of your head, he looks down on you with an expression that you donât know what to make of. His eyes are still intense, but the lines around them are softened as he stares down, his gaze tracing your face.Â
âYou think I havenât been looking?â He asks, and his voice isnât as harsh or gritty as youâd been expecting. Itâs softer now, fond, almost. âHow could I fuckinâ miss you? Always so pretty, always workinâ so hard. âCourse I noticed.â
When his fingers creep beneath your big purple jumper, you launch into helping him remove it, eagerly stripping it off so youâre laying in your bra. Itâs one of your simple utilitarian ones, and you curse yourself for not wearing a sexier one.
But Price groans at the sight of your simple white cotton as though itâs premium lace. His palms are rough as they trace up your sides, the callouses on his fingers coarse against the soft squishy flesh of your belly. He leans forward and nuzzles at your ear, kissing behind your lobe before scraping his teeth along your jaw until heâs kissing messily at your mouth all over again.
âSo gorgeous.â He says, his voice a low rumble that has your nerves buzzing. âI was too mean to you before, wasnât I? Too harsh, when all you were trying to do was help.â
âYes.â You whisper, though you feel a little bit petulant for it.
âLet me make up for it, darling,â He whispers back, and it sounds like a plea. âHm? Iâll show you how good youâve been.â
Youâre nodding before he even finishes, desperate. God, yes. Youâre not even sure what it is that heâs offering, but you know that youâll take anything that he has to give you.
Heâs looming over you, so large, as his hands fall to the closure on your work trousers. His fingers are so thick that he fumbles with the delicate button and little zip, and it takes him a couple of tries to pull it open and down. When heâs got it, he shucks your trousers off easily and tosses them aside, then stares down at you in your ugly shapeless underwear as though youâre wearing something else entirely.
Even though youâre laying unclothed and vulnerable, squirming and wanting, Price is so slow to get moving. He doesnât grab at you, or grope greedily, or take impatiently. He acts as though heâs got all the time in the world, leisurely looking you over as though heâs committing you to memory.
âNeed you to say it,â He says, strained like heâs trying to hold himself back. âNeed you to say it out loud.â
âWant you to show me how good Iâve been.â You say immediately, your desire leaving no room for shame. âWant you to look after me.â
The request comes out a little bit plaintive, and Price sighs out before ducking his head and kissing you again. Heâs so much more affectionate than you had ever imagined, and you feel as though youâre drowning in it. His attention is like a warm blanket, settling every craving youâve ever had.
âI will,â He breathes like itâs a promise. âOh, I will.â
His palms are rough and hot as they drag over your skin, deceptively gentle as he reaches your tits and pushes your bra up so that he can knead at the soft flesh there. He doesnât even bother to unclasp it, impatient enough that shoving the cups up so to free your breasts is enough for him.Â
He bends his head down, and licks a stripe over your nipple. His tongue feels scorching against you, like youâre hypersensitive to his touch, and he groans against your skin as though heâs tasting something incredible.
You writhe, hips arching up in search of some kind of friction, but Price doesnât give it to you. Heâs too distracted, peppering dozens of kisses over your tits as though theyâre something precious even as his hands coast down your back to grope at your ass again where your plain cotton underwear is riding up.
âSo pretty, ainâtcha?â He groans against your chest. âFuck, even when you were walkinâ around with a face on you like a slapped arse, I thought you were the sweetest fuckinâ thing Iâd ever seen.â
âCharming.â You snap, but thereâs no anger in your tone anymore. In fact, you donât think thereâs a lick of anger anywhere in your whole body anymore, like Priceâs hands and mouth on you have washed it all away.
All the brattiness, and the prickliness of your bad mood, is entirely forgotten now that youâre laid out and squirming beneath him. You can hardly even remember what you had been so stressed and angry with him for.
He finally reaches around to unclasp your bra, then tosses it to the side to let it slump sadly to the floor. His next target is your underwear, pulled from you roughly enough that you think the fabric might tear even as his hands cradle the plush flesh of your ass like itâs a treasure.
âMm, so gorgeous, princess,â It seems like the name just slips out of his mouth, and you feel your whole body draw tense and hot. âSo lovely, and I bet you taste even better than you look⊠like sugar, my sweet girl.â
Jesus Christ. You think your whole fucking body throbs, blood pounding and nerves straining as you wish so desperately for him to touch you. You canât handle him talking to you like that, so fondly, as if you havenât just acted like the biggest brat in the world for several days straight.
You can hardly even reconcile this man with the usual stern, gruff man that acts as your Captain, and you let out a choked whine of bewilderment as he slides down your body.
Your thighs are clamped together, shy under his gaze despite how desperately eager you are. You want this, you want him, but you canât help but feel so mortified by the vulnerability of being nude beneath him on the couch while his big formidable body is still entirely clothed.
Priceâs fingers stroke against your hip, his tone low and rich as his lips find your throat again. You can feel his tongue darting out against your skin, his hunger so palpable now that itâs infectious.
âLet daddy see you,â He croaks against the hollow of your throat. âSpread your legs, sweetheart.â
Itâs not like you could ever say no to that. The request sends liquid heat shooting straight to your cunt, making you hot and sticky. You spread your thighs, and feel embarrassment flare when thereâs a squelch as your cunt unsticks. Andâ Jesus, Priceâs eyes fucking light up, and you realise that heâs clocked your reaction to his honeyed words, the way he calls himself daddy.
The kiss he gives you is claiming and hungry, consuming your lips with a fervour that leaves no room for doubt about his intentions. Itâs a taste of both command and reverence â in equal measure. When he pulls away from your mouth youâre breathless, still gasping softly even as he pushes himself down the length of your body.
In the blink of an eye, heâs there â between your welcoming thighs, his hands resting securely on your soft hips, as much a lifeline as a promise of whatâs to come. Your pussy is already sloppy, slick and wet in anticipation of him. He shoves his head between your thighs, using his thumbs to spread apart your folds and just look at you.
Your back arches at even the suggestion of his touch, feeling his breath ghost over the heated slick flesh of your cunt. Despite your obvious willingness, and his apparent eagerness, he doesnât immediately touch you.
You crane your neck to see that heâs staring at your pussy as though the sight of it is earth-shattering. His gaze drinks you in, heated blue eyes taking in the sight of your swollen sticky folds, no doubt throbbing invitingly under his attention. Youâve never seen a man look so hungry, like heâs about to risk anything for it. A dark, groaned "fuck" escapes him as he kneels between your spread legs, head bowed as if in reverence.
"Daddy needs a taste, sweet girl," His deep voice a heavy rumble, vibrating against your soft inner thighs.Â
It takes a beat for you to realise that heâs holding himself back, that heâs essentially asking for permission to lay his mouth on you, but then you gasp, âYes, fuck, yes, pleaseââ
Price takes it as the enthusiastic invitation that it is and bursts into movement immediately, reaching out and guiding your legs wider so that he can muscle in between them properly, before leaning in and finally getting his mouth on you.
You choke, hips aching as you try to spread your legs even further. Price drags the flat of his tongue along the seam of your cunt, groaning as though heâs savouring the taste of you, before wrapping his arms around your thighs to keep you all spread open for him as his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh.
You want to call out for him, but his name stalls on your tongue. What would you call him â Price? John? Captain? Daddy? You think you would die if you said it out loud.
Then his tongue finds your clit, and your thoughts scatter. He flicks the tip of his tongue over you, back and forth, then flattens it to grind eagerly. You had thought, given the way he had taken that moment just to look at you before heâd pressed his mouth to you, that he would start slow. But instead, he gives you everything he has.
You cry out as he devours your cunt, his bushy eyebrows pulling up in delight as you give him your first moan. While your legs had spread wide in the beginning, eager to let him in, you now close them tight around his head to keep him in place. You have a brief, hazy thought that maybe this is an asshole move of you, a little like if a man were to hold your head down while you were sucking cock, but Price doesnât seem to mind. If anything, judging by the snarl he lets out when your thighs close around his ears, he likes it.
You toss your head back against the worn couch cushions as jolts of white-hot heat spread from where his mouth is working at you, playing with you, tongue painting long, broad strokes up and down your pussy.Â
Your cunt is syrupy hot, throbbing as his tongue rubs relentlessly at your clit. Youâre so fucking wet, and you canât help yourself from rolling your hips more assertively into his mouth. Youâre leaking on his mouth, his tongue, your slick drenching his cheeks and his beard.
Seized by a sudden urge to watch, you clumsily raise your head so you can look down. It feels entirely illicit, watching Priceâs head between your legs as he buries his face so enthusiastically into your folds. His eyes flash as he glances up, the bottom half of his face hidden entirely in your pussy as his jaw works, the soft hair of his beard tickling your sensitive inner thighs.
With a jolt, you realise that one of his hands has fallen to his lap, his trousers hastily pushed open. Heâs fisting at his dripping cock, red and angry and still begging for release against the thick dark hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin and clothes as his cock bobs and twitches at the sounds of your moans.
The sudden realisation that Price is getting off on this, on the taste of you and the smell of you and the way youâre whining, sets you aflame. He grunts, one of his big handâs wrapping around his throbbing skin to pump his length to the rhythm of his tongue inside of you.
âOh, oh fuck,â You press your lips together, stomach pulling tight as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, âFuck, fuck, fuck thatâs so good, oh god, Captainââ
âYeah,â Price grunts, his words all wetly muffled, his arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep you in place as he feasts on you, sucking on your clit like itâs a sweet. âI know, baby, I know.â
Heâs so accommodating, so nice to you. You tilt your hips up and grind your cunt into his mouth, sighing in satisfaction as his tongue drags along your clit before dipping to lick inside of you. He barely even shifts when you hump your pussy into his face; he only opens his mouth wider, licks at you more enthusiastically as though your desperation is contagious.Â
Your belly goes hot and tight, and a high-pitched whimper is torn from your throat. It feels as though youâve been strung high and taut for months now, and your breath catches at your imminent orgasm. Youâve just been so stressed, and having Price hunched over you on the couch like this with your legs thrown up around his shoulders as he licks and sucks at you so eagerly that it has your eyes rolling in your head feels like itâs curing you.
You think, somewhat madly, that an orgasm like this, with Priceâs mouth sealed over your cunt, will solve every damn problem you have right now.
âWanna come, wanna come, Jesus fucking Christ, please pleaseââ Your chest heaves as you scramble, one of your hands reaching down to cup Priceâs head to keep him in place, face buried in your cunt. âOh god, please make me comeââ
Maybe itâs not fair to be so demanding of him, but to his credit Price responds with restless enthusiasm. You double over in pleasure as he heeds your broken little pleas, your nails scraping into the couch as you cling on for dear life. His tongue swirls over your clit quickly and with fervour, tight circles to make your vision go blurry.
Youâre lost in the sensation of his hot, wet mouth in your cunt, the way he licks into you like a starving man tasting his first meal. It feels like a sensation overload, as though youâre just completely lost to your own desire, but you just want more of what he is offering.Â
You grab his hair again and pull him closer, greedy with need, and he hums in affirmation as he allows you to guide his mouth to exactly where you need it. Arching your hips up, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm. You groan, eyelids fluttering as you wrap your other leg around Priceâs shoulders, up around his neck, and his hand snakes around your thigh to anchor you there.
Priceâs fingers are gripping at your hips, surely hard enough to leave bruises there. You smile, almost deliriously; you could live with some souvenirs from tonight.
Your feeble gasps start to spiral into whimpers as that hot coil begins to tighten in your belly, and your toes start to curl. When your climax finally hits, it does so with a sense of relief that almost knocks you flat. Your body winds tight then releases, and you convulse in a wave of shudders that has you sobbing out loud.
Your chest heaves as you sob, squirming as Price licks at your clit insistently. It feels like your breath has caught in your chest, your toes curling so hard that your feet cramp. Youâre panting like a damn dog as your orgasm rocks through you, until the waves of it subside and you can finally get a full breath again.
From one second to the next your nerves turn red-hot and oversensitive, and you clamp your thighs shut around Priceâs ears and whimper-whine pathetically. Mercifully, he gets your unspoken message easily, and finally pulls back, chuckling breathlessly to himself as he pushes your legs apart in order to retreat.
âFuck,â He says, and his voice comes out as harsh and gravelly as youâve ever heard it. âJesus Christ. Knew youâd taste sweet, knew that youâd come so pretty.â
The praise practically slams into you, ripping through you like a forest fire. It feels like youâve lost your breath all over again, and ridiculously you suddenly feel shy.Â
âIâThatââ You start to say, but you still feel a little fuzzy-headed from your orgasm and your thoughts fizz away like TV static.Â
âMhm, I know, sweet girl.â He murmurs hoarsely as though you had said something coherent.Â
When Price finally sits up, you blink hazily. He had been all hunched over you, crammed into the corner of the couch in order to squeeze himself between your thighs like that, but now that heâs straightening back up again youâre reminded with a tired jolt just how big and broad and strong he is.
A small, self-conscious part of your brain screams at you to close your legs. Your thighs are still spread wide, your cunt on display; youâre still all sloppy and wet, spit-slick and dripping, all puffy from the attention Price had lavished on you with his mouth.
But instead of closing your legs, you let your thighs fall open a little wider and shift restlessly under his intense gaze. Your desire makes you stupid â how could you ever experience anything as mundane as self-consciousness when heâs staring at you like that? Heâs looking at you like he wants to fall atop you all over again, and you feel yourself throb â you feel so empty, your body craving something to fill you.
And Price notices the way you keep yourself all spread for him, the way you donât make any move to cover yourself. Beneath his beard, his face splits into a wide smile, the apples of his cheeks practically glowing with pride.
âOh, my girl, you're so pretty. Just the loveliest girl in the world with your beautiful face and your hair all wild like that.â He leans in then, and presses a hungry kiss to your mouth. He tastes salty-sweet, the iron tang of yourself lingering on his lips. His beard is wet too, practically soaked through.
You gasp when he pulls back, overwhelmed by the kiss and the praise and the electric aftershocks of your orgasm. âYour beard is wet.â You observe dumbly.
He chuckles, as though youâve said something terribly endearing. âOf course it is, sweetheart. Thatâs all you.â
You mumble a little incoherently, mostly because youâve just spotted the way his trousers are still unbuttoned and his hard, swollen cock is jutting out from the band of his boxers. Itâs angry looking, the head of it so red it looks a little painful, and you feel a sudden urge to return the favour seize you.
But when you reach out, Price is quick to grab your wrist. He transfers his grip to your hand swiftly so you donât feel as though youâre being held down, his wide palm and thick fingers winding around yours.
âDonât have to do that, love.â He grunts, shifting. Heâs looming over you, hips tilted towards you and his wide shoulders blocking out your view of the office. âDâyou think you could take me?â
It takes you a moment for your slow, stupid brain to catch up and process what heâs asking you. Then you nod swiftly, eyes widening. You're wet and sticky and so so empty, and you have no doubt your body is so ready to take him inside.Â
Youâre still a little limp and drained from the satisfaction of your orgasm, but you keep your thighs spread and wait eagerly for him to touch you again. He doesnât keep you waiting long; he coos softly at you as he adjusts himself, kissing your tummy then up your sternum and back to your throat. The soft, sweet kisses distract you as he presses his hips between your thighs.
You gasp softly, your clit sensitive enough that when his cock rubs against it, you jolt. Despite the overload of sensation, you find yourself grinding back against him, so desperate for something. As if he can sense what you need, he presses a kiss to your jaw and dips a hand between your thighs. Two thick, calloused fingers circle your clit for a moment and make you whimper, only to dip lower and press inside you.
His fingers are larger than yours, but they still slip into you so damn easily that itâs embarrassing. You barely even feel a stretch, your body so eager for him that your cunt practically sucks his fingers up.
The worst part is the way Price laughs, all soft and breathy as he rubs his callous-roughened fingers into the spongey walls of your cunt.Â
âOh, fuck,â He murmurs, his lips dragging over your overheated skin. âYeah, youâll take me just fine.â
You burn with embarrassment, but you still donât close your legs. Itâs silly, but thereâs still an element of pride as his fingers rub against the soft inside of your pussy; you want him to see how much you want him, how well youâll take him. Itâs obvious how wet you are, and you hope heâs imagining how good youâll feel on the inside.
âNeed you to turn over for me, love.â He murmurs, gripping at your hips and easing you over so that youâre on your belly beneath him. âThatâs it, arse up. My knees arenât what they used to be. Make it easy for me.â
You usually would make a joke about that, some sort of jab about being old before his time, but you simply donât have the mental capacity for it. Youâre too busy dropping to rest your weight on your elbows as you stick your ass up towards him, arching your back and hoping you look pretty.
He doesnât waste any more time, much to your relief. Your mouth drops open with a sigh as you feel the blunt head of his cock glide between your slick folds, tapping once against your clit just to watch the way your legs jerk, then finally lining up with your entrance and pressing lightly in. His cock notches, catches, then slides in so slowly that it makes you want to scream.
âGotta let me in, petal.â He says, using his grip on your hips to pull you back onto his cock in increments. âRelax, relax.â
You had wanted this, youâre more eager than you think youâve ever been for anyone in your life, and yet Price is a big man and the stretch makes your breath stall in your lungs. Your cunt is sucking his cock in further with a hunger thatâs almost embarrassing, even as you wince a little at the feeling of being stretched out to your limits. Though youâre wet and eager and ready, two of Priceâs fingers briefly testing inside werenât quite enough to prepare you for how fat his cock is.Â
Your head is spinning. Youâve never taken a cock this big with so little stretching, but neither you nor Price are patient enough to wait. But the stretch feels good, and you find yourself wheezing like a moron as he presses inside inch by inch.
âFuck⊠you alright, love?â Price breathes, adjusting his knees on the couch behind you and wrapping his hands around your hips. The motion only succeeds in shifting him far enough away to make you aware of the feeling of him sliding into you again. You both groan, and you feel Price twitch, deep inside you.
âFuck,â You moan, breath gasping out of you. âYouâre fucking huge.â
It feels like youâre learning for the very first time what it really means to be full. For a few seconds, it feels like you canât even breathe. It feels like his cock is lodged somewhere in your belly, forcing the breath from your lungs as he nestles his way deeper into the eager clutch of your body.
âAm Iâ sâit too much, honey?â He asks, his voice rough and low as his hands squeeze at the flesh at your hips. âNeed me to take it out?â
âNo!â You blurt, and your body clenches up hard as though youâre trying to lock him in and keep him from escaping. âDonât you dare!â
His cock still feels so big, and when you tighten up as hard as you do it almost feels as though heâs fucking impaling you. Price groans as though heâs been shot, and his head lowers so that heâs burying his face into the space between your shoulderblades. His body lowers too until his chest is pressed to your back, joined at the hips as he rocks inside of you.Â
âOkay,â He grunts, and you can feel his chest expand as he takes a breath. âOkay, love, but you need to relax. Youâre going to squeeze my cock right off.â
âSorry.â You try to do as he asks, taking a deep breath and allowing your body to go limp and pliant. He grunts in appreciation, and you feel his whiskery beard rasp against your throat as he presses a kiss to your neck as if to reward you.
Your spine is still taut from the pressure of being all stretched out around his cock, and you reach back clumsily to grasp at his belly, the soft fabric of his shirt rucking up between your fingers. Price reaches back and grabs at the neck of his own shirt, tearing it over his head then tossing it aside. Your eyes are all hazy and a little blurred from your overwhelmed tears, but you look back over your shoulder and blink frantically in an attempt to get a proper look at him.Â
God, heâs so big and strong, his chest furred with a layer of brown hair curling in whorls over his nipples and down over his belly. You feel yourself pulse in response, your mouth dropping open in a thoughtless gasp of desire. Heâs exactly the kind of man you think of when you think of masculinity, and your belly tightens in anticipation when he presses all up against you, heavy and hot.
When he begins to pull out and press back in, the noise you make is utterly pathetic. It feels like he cleaving you in two, carving out a space for his cock every time he fucks back into you. Heâs cautious at first, conscious of hurting you, but when your thighs close around his hips he grunts and begins to pick his pace up.
âChrist, youâre tight,â Price says, his voice all rough and muffled against your shoulder. âAnd you're all mine, love, my own sweet girl, ainât that right? And daddy's gonna love you so good, isnât he?â
âYes,â You gasp stupidly, pressing your face into the couch cushions.
Typically, you find that doggy style can be a position thatâs a little detached â usually, you like seeing the face of the person youâre fucking. But right now, with Price plastering his whole hairy body against your back as he ruts into you and the sweet filthy words heâs murmuring to you, this position feels so far from detached that it has your head spinning. It feels like heâs blanketing you, the heat from his skin igniting what feels like an inferno between the two of you. Sweat beads at your forehead, and you moan softly as Price begins to fuck you properly.
Youâre bouncing against the couch, clutching at the cushions as your body moves under the weight of Priceâs powerful thrusts. The sound of it is sloppy and wet, your bodies smacking together quick and hard. And fuck, it feels good. His cock is hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you, and your entire body jolts with pleasure every time he pounds back in.Â
Itâs enough to make you squeal, your nails scrabbling desperately for purchase on the threadbare couch cushions in an attempt to stabilise yourself. Your nipples are sensitive from Priceâs licking at sucking at them, and your toes curl as your tits are pressed into the rough-textured cushions, electrifying your nerves to the point of almost too-much.Â
The noises you make are entirely undignified, and you struggle to muffle them into the couch. Little burbling ah ah ahâs are being torn from your throat every time Price fucks into you, the sensation of his furred balls slapping against you with every thrust has your eyes rolling.
Your body is all loose and pliant from your earlier orgasm, and you whimper as though youâre being fucked absolutely stupid. Itâs not that heâs fucking you all that hard, but heâs filling you up so deliciously and knowing that itâs him, your Captain, the man that youâve worked so damn hard to impress and to please, makes you feel like youâre going to explode. Even through the haze of desire and pleasure, a little part of you is still so aware of making him happy. You keep your back arched, practically waving your ass up in the air as he fucks into you.
âTell me how you like it, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.â Price says in a low, rough purr. His chest is still pressed to your back even as the two of you pant and sweat as you rock together. âTell daddy how good he's making you feel.â
Jesus Christ, Price feels like a fucking furnace against you. It feels almost as though youâve been glued together, your skin sweat slick as he ruts into you like an animal. Your lungs are burning, and your mind is completely scattered. Getting fucked like this feels feels primal, an exchange of power through pleasure; youâre aware that heâs asked you a question, but you can hardly string two thoughts together. All you can do is squirm and whimper in below him as his weight pins you in place.
âGood,â You groan, vaguely aware that tears are leaking from your eyes and soaking the couch beneath you. Your vision is blurred, and you canât even see straight. âI justâ itâs so muchââ
âI know,â He rumbles. âBut you can take it, canât you? Youâve been so good, sweetheart.â
The praise does exactly what heâs hoping for; you practically melt into a puddle beneath him. Your thoughts are slow and sluggish, and your jaw hangs open as you fucking drool. Even still, you manage to nod your head clumsily. You can take him â it feels like a point of pride to prove it now, to show off how good you can be.
Priceâs rhythm is practically machine-like, and you make a quiet sound of pure appreciation when his cock slams into that gummy spot inside of you that makes you lose your breath. Itâs as though he takes note of it, because from that point on he stays absolutely jackhammering into that little spot, making you see stars and have to bite your lip to stifle your moans. His balls would slam against your clit in a repeated motion that made your underbelly tighten like a coil so close to snapping.
He groans every time he sinks into you, his growls rumbling into your back and ratcheting up the intensity another notch. You feel lost in a sea of sensation, moored only by the places of contact between you and Price. Your hips are humping back against Priceâs cock unconsciously, unable to help yourself and unable to get enough of him.
âI wanna come again,â You say, and it comes out in a demanding sort of whine. Itâs a little humbling to hear yourself and realise that you sound so honest to god bratty, but you canât bring yourself to care when Price is apparently in such a giving mood today.Â
âYouâre gonna come, love.â He promises. His voice has that tone to it, the one youâve always tried to ignore during work because it makes you so horny. The authoritative one, when it drops just a bit in pitch, when it sounds just a little like a threat.
But despite his promise, he doesnât change his steady pace. Youâre just this side of overwhelmed, but you still need more to push you over the edge into the second orgasm thatâs simmering in your lower stomach.Â
âPlease, daddy,â You let the name pass your lips on a whimper, finally giving in and calling him by the title heâs so clearly craving. Heâs fucked all the shame out of your body at this point, leaving you with nothing but white hot desperation. âPlease, please make me come againââ
âFuckinâ Christââ
Priceâs arm reaches around your front, and youâre startled when his big palm wraps around your throat. You think for a moment that youâre about to get choked, but no pressure follows. He just grips you there, gentle and secure, before using his hold on you to pull you back against him so that heâs rutting up into you at a speed thatâs overwhelming in the best way. His other arm reaches around your belly so that he can rub at your clit as he rails you into the couch. His soft grip on your throat ensures that no matter how much you try to squirm your way back into meeting his thrusts, youâre forced into stillness.Â
Itâs exactly what you wanted, and it has you wheezing and hiccuping out moans on every stroke. Itâs better than you ever could have hoped for, and youâre nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly as he strokes at your clit hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking.
You know that youâre already starting to shake, trembling from head to toe. You canât even keep your back arched anymore, though you donât think Price gives a shit because he just nuzzles at the base of your shoulder as he fucks into you. Between his cock and his fingers, everything just feels too much but your body is strung taut as you proverbially climb higher and higher.
âOh god, Iâmâ yes, yes, yesââ You chant, your voice high and reedy and so damn needy.
Then the world falls out from under you. With one last whimpering moan, your body convulses beneath the heavy weight of your captainâs big body. Your vision practically wipes out, and you squeeze down around Priceâs dick and pulse. Your whole body rocks with the flood of pleasure, the warm fuzzy feeling that makes you feel as though youâre losing your mind. You know that your hips are twitching madly, simultaneously trying to get more and less as you get overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you through it all.
Youâre still coming down from the sweet release of your orgasm when Price practically tears himself away from you, leaving you cruelly empty and clenching around nothing. You let out a sharp sound of loss, startled that heâs pulled away so suddenly, and you find yourself slumping bonelessly against the couch now that his hands are no longer supporting you.
The wet shlurping sounds from behind you prompt you to glance lazily over your shoulder from where your face is smushed against the cushions, and youâre blessed with the sight of Price tugging his cock furiously behind you. His cheeks are bright red as he stares at the mess heâs made of you, his jaw soft and his mouth open as he pants.
He sees you looking, and whatever expression is on your face seems to be his undoing. He takes in your tear-clumped eyelashes and your dazed expression, and you can practically see the moment he hurtles over the edge. He practically snarls, his nose scrunching in a way thatâs unexpectedly adorable right as his cock gives one fat pump of thick white come, then several smaller sputterings that collect in a creamy puddle right at the base of your spine, just over the swell of your ass.
You sigh, your eyelids fluttering lazily shut as you relish the feeling of his hot come hitting your skin. You still canât manage to pull yourself together, feeling loose and floaty like youâre on another fucking planet entirely. Youâre only distantly aware of his big palm rubbing gentle circles on the small of his back; you think for a second that heâs just trying to soothe you, until your fucked out brain catches up and you realise that heâs rubbing his come into you like itâs goddamn lotion. Your cunt gives a tired throb at the realisation, fluttering as though itâs sad that he didnât come inside.
âFuckâŠâ You hear him rumble from behind you, then a hot heavy weight settling over you yet again. This time, he pulls you back into his arms to hold you tight against his chest.Â
You go perfectly limp, curling into him and nuzzling into his sweaty hairy chest. Despite yourself, youâre reminded of cuddling with a massive teddy bear. All you can do is hum, basking in the affection and hardly able to think at this point after heâs turned your brain into a slurry of feelings without thoughts.
âYou okay, love?â Price asks. You can feel his nose nuzzling against your temple, though you canât quite summon the energy to open your eyes again. âDid I go too hard on you?â
Your legs are still shaky, your hamstrings aching and your back throbbing a little from the pounding youâve just taken. But Price is being so lovely and soft, so gentle with you right now. His hands coast over your hips, your back, your waist, squeezing a little bit just because he seems to like the way you feel in his hands.
âShhh,â You drawl shakily. âDonât make me think right now.â
A low chuckle, and you feel his broad chest rumble with it where your head is laying atop him. His fingers run up the length of your spine, the touch making you shiver. He touches you like youâre delicate, a stark contrast to the way heâd just fucked you into your sad little office couch. It makes something in your belly squirm.
âAlright. My girl just needed to switch off for a while, hm?â He murmurs, and you can hear the clear undertone of amusement in his voice. âHow are you going to finish out work today if youâre all sleepy like this, huh?â
That wakes you up a little, and you finally blink your eyes open again in order to look up at him. An edge of panic is beginning to creep in as awareness comes back to you, and you take a deep breath as your hands curl against his chest.
âOh my god.â You blurt, eyes growing wide. âIâ weâre at work!â
âSharp as ever, darling.â
Not even Priceâs lazy wryness can distract you now. You try to wiggle off the couch, already craning your head around in search of your clothes, but Priceâs thick arm locks tight around your middle and keeps you pressed to him.
âWe have toâ oh my god, we have to get dressed, what if someone walks inââ
âShh, shhh, I locked the door when I came in,â Price grumbles. He doesnât appear too impressed with the way youâre attempting to wiggle away, but it doesnât matter so much; even with one arm heâs perfectly capable of keeping you pinned in place against his chest. âLie back down, love.â
Slowly, you let yourself relax back into him. Itâs hard to hold onto your panic when heâs so obviously unbothered, so you end up hesitantly snuggling back up against his chest as his arms come up to close around you. Despite his encouragement, youâre unsure whether or not youâre allowed to be touching him like this. But his hands donât stray from you, not even once, and gradually you return to your previous state of being a puddle of limbs and pliant muscle.
âThatâs it, relax.â He coaxes, clearly pleased now that youâre melting back into him.Â
âI have so much work to catch up on.â You grumble, though you have no intention of actually going anywhere now that heâs given you the greenlight to stay like this.
His chest vibrates beneath your cheek, and you realise heâs chuckling again. It feels good, and you sigh softly as your fingers stroke lightly over the defined shape of his soft pecs.
âYou think I wasnât capable of keeping the ship afloat for the couple of days you were gone?â He asks, one hand stroking over your flank then dipping lower to flatten his palm over your left asscheek. âI finished out those little files you were stressinâ over. No picture of Ghost for his, but like I said, thatâs standard.â
You had known that he had finished updating the files for you when you had seen Farahâs, but hearing it straight from his mouth is something else entirely. You purse your lips and lower your eyes, still embarrassed about your little freak out despite his apologies.Â
âThank you.â You mumble.Â
You try to hide your face in his chest again, but a large hand on your jaw stops you by tilting your head back and forcing you to look at him. A thumb strokes over your cheek, and then heâs leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth. You respond tiredly but eagerly, still hardly able to believe that your boss that youâve been mooning after for months is being so affectionate and intimate with you.
Price pulls back slightly so that your lips are just barely touching, breathing each otherâs air for a moment.
âAsk for help when you need it, sweetheart.â He murmurs, his lips dragging over yours. âThatâs what Iâm here for. We help each other with the workload, alright?â
âYeah,â You breathe, leaning in eagerly in the hopes of getting another kiss. âAlright.â
Price smiles, his cheeks going all full and round as his eyes crinkle, and you feel your heart throb so violently it feels as though it jumps right up into your throat. He leans in and kisses you again, soft and sweet as his beard rasps against your chin.
You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up so warm and cosy and safe in his arms. He makes you feel so safe, like youâre valued and appreciated, and you canât even feel bad about being lazy because he so clearly doesnât want to move either.
âLet me come home with you tonight,â He says suddenly, and you feel his bicep contract as he squeezes you closer. âYou have an apartment off base, donât you? Iâll⊠why donât I cook you dinner, hm? Want to show you how much I appreciate all the work you do.â
Thereâs a pause, then he adds cautiously, âIf Iâm not being presumptuous, that is.â
You canât stop the shy smile from overtaking your face. Heâs so sweet, and being on the receiving end of this kind of attention from him is more than you ever could have expected. Ridiculously, he seems a little nervous as well, and you come to the slow realisation that he had been vulnerable with you as well when it came to his interests when he had fucked you.
âI thought this was you appreciating the work I do.â You say coyly, glancing pointedly at all of your bare skin pressed up against his.
âMm. You do a lot of work, and Iâm very appreciative.â Price murmurs, squeezing teasingly at your ass.
You giggle despite yourself, relishing the light-hearted air between the two of you. At the sound of your laugh, Priceâs expression brightens further; itâs strange, seeing your usually stern, stressed captain being so sweet with you. Youâre so used to seeing him with that flinty determined look in his eyes, or barking orders, or with his eyes sagging with exhaustion after a long deployment only to return to a pile of mission reports. Seeing him like this, with those soft eyes and a fond smile, makes your heart feel as though itâs beating out of rhythm.
âI said Iâd look after you, sweetheart.â He murmurs, and this time his voice is missing that teasing undertone from before. He sounds so earnest now, almost painfully so. âYou just need to let me.â
Yeah, you think to yourself as you let yourself succumb to the drowsy haze thatâs been tugging at you, allowing your eyes to slide shut as you nuzzle into Priceâs bare chest. You think letting John Price look after you might just be the easiest thing youâve ever done.
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The Love Lab presents:
One Bite for You, One Bite for Me
đ THIS IS MY 100 200 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!
pairing: Miguel OâHara x fem!Reader
summary: One of the things you and Miguel bond over is delicious food. One day, you notice that your clothes arenât fitting like they used to. Miguel is there to remind you how beautiful you are.
content warning: established relationship but theyâre not married, 18+ so MDNI, non-Spiderman Miguel, LOTS OF MENTIONS OF FOOD AND DRINKS, weight gain, cycles, insecurity about body, alcohol, body worship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up đ«”đŸ), cunnilingus, lots of praise, a little Spanish (if wrong please lmk)
credit for art + dividers: Me! + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
a/n: This is actually the first fic I wrote when my Miguel hyperfixation came back in full force. I based it off of this video and a comment saying that girls are usually the ones that gain weight super quick in a relationship. Please know that gaining weight is not a bad thing, especially in this story. Relationship weight can be positive and food is here to nourish your body! Also know that everyoneâs body is different. Our bodies will react to things in different, unique ways. If youâre ever feeling icky about your weight/health, please take a step back, breathe, and know that youâre beautiful no matter what. There are also sources out there that can help you if your thoughts overpower your heart. Please donât hesitate to seek help.
word count: 4.3k
To all my food-lovers and fellow plus-size girlies, kisses to you! Youâre beautiful!
SPRING đ„
âBaby!â
You grinned as you heard Miguelâs shout from the front door. His voice had a giddy tilt as if he made a breakthrough in one of his projects.
âI was finally able to stop by the new Jamaican spot before they sold out and look what I got us,â Miguel says before he slides the take-out bags across the table. âRibs, oxtails, rice and beans, mac, and your favoriteâŠfried plantains!â
You quickly untie the bags, happy to have a break from your research paper, and immediately get hit with the smell of spices both sweet and savory. ïżœïżœOh my god! That looks incredible.â
After frantically digging around for a plastic fork, you were finally able to pull a piece of meat off the oxtail. It looked mouth-watering and tender. One bite of the meat and youâre immediately groaning, slumped in your chair. You nod your head and scrunch your face, watching as the juice from the gravy soaks into the pieces of rice stuck at the bottom of the take-out plate.
âThat is so fucking good, Mig. No wonder thereâs never any combos left by the time you leave work.â
Miguel just watches you eat with a glint in his eyes, happy to see you so relaxed and enjoying the food. He reaches into the second bag, pulling out two bottles of juice, âAnd to make it better, I got their fruit juice, made fresh daily-â
âPassionfruit and mango flavor!â Your eyes got big as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew how much of a juice fanatic you were, so this drink was just the cherry on top of the large ice cream sundae that was your generous boyfriend.
âThank you, baby,â you giggled and gave his cheek a fat smooch. You patted his chest twice and moved back to set up the table, âNow, hurry and wash up so we can eat this before it gets cold! Weâve got shows to watch.â
âEntendido, Iâll be right backâ
SUMMER đŠ
You and Miguel were walking hand in hand along the Cancun Hotel Zone, taking in all the sights. Miguelâs job had given him a promotion along with an extremely high bonus, so what better way to celebrate than to use his PTO and bring the love of his life on vacation?
Granted, the area you guys were currently in was a little touristy, borderline bougie, but it was all worth it when Miguel got to see your eyes light up as you watched the turquoise waves fade into white foam along the shoreline.
You wobbled a bit while clinging to Miguelâs side, a little tipsy from the frozen paloma you drank to pair with todayâs lunch. It was a waterfront restaurant with a live band so the vibes were just right for a little bit of liquid fun.
The downside was that the two of you were supposed to meet up with Miguelâs family later that evening and while you were fine with the confidence boost you were sporting, you wanted to be more alert when speaking with loved ones. Plus, you needed to give a good impression to the relatives you hadnât met yet. It will be nice to put a face to the names of Miguelâs childhood.
âWhat do you say we stop and get some ice cream?â Miguel suggested, chuckling at you when you grinned up at him, ecstatic over the proposed plan.
âYou know me so well,â you said, arms reaching around his waist, face squished into the side of his chest. âI would absolutely love some ice cream. Cool me down from the inside.â
Miguel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. You were especially cute when you got like this.
FALL đ
âBaby, check this out,â Miguel shouted, finally returning to your table with your food.
The fair was packed full of people, especially due to the pop-up food truck festival happening that same week. You had never seen more people run to get fried turnip greens and loaded fries in your life.
Still, this was just another chance to hang out with Miguel. You really didnât care where you went with him, as long as you got to see that pretty smile.
You look down at the table and see what he brought back. Before your eyes sat the most un-Miguel order ever: birria pizza and two walking tacos, one Hot Cheetos and the other Dorritos.
âDorilocos, Miguel. Really?â you raised an eyebrow watching him try to steady the open chip bags over some spread-out napkins.
âAmor, donât look at me like that! I had to get them because Gabriel kept talking my ear off about this new food truck that made them better than the ones we used to eat on our trips back home. I, for one, donât believe that for a second, so what better way to test that theory than to eat it with my baby?â Miguel gave the saddest look he could muster and slid his hand across the table, trying to convince you to indulge with him.
âFine, fine. Donât give me that look,â you say, pulling off a slice of the pizza, making the cheese stretch as long as you can. âJust donât complain to me from the bathroom while your stomach fights to digest something it hasnât had in over a decade!â
Miguel pursed his lips while shoveling as much food as he could on one Doritto, âShouldnât I be the one telling you that? Thatâs a lot of cheese, babe.â
âOh my god, some queso tears up my stomach one time and you canât let that go, can you?â
âIt was once and yet you were in agony about it for days. I think Iâm allowed to remind you at least monthly.â
âJust eat your food and leave me and my iron stomach alone. Weâll see what happens between today and tomorrow,â you quip, pulling your phone out ready to record Miguelâs reaction to send to Gabriel.
Miguel takes a bite and just leans against the table, head slumped on his clean head.
âDios mio, he was right. This canât be happening,â he groaned, slightly annoyed that Gabriel wasnât exaggerating. He was also shocked at the fact that someone even came close to getting the local snack right.
You giggled behind your phone, happy that his reaction worked in your favor. You zoomed in a little more on his face, capturing him smacking his lips and licking off excess sauce. He was so zoned in on his food that he didnât even notice you with your phone up.
âIs it good, Mig?â you asked, mirth in your voice.
He looked at you ready to answer but his eyes snapped to your camera and started to whine, âAmor, please stop recording!â
With a small smile, you made sure to add the video to your folder full of Miguel. âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry. You just look so cute, I couldnât help it.â
Miguel just mumbled to himself while stacking up another chip, neck heated over the interaction. âHere, just try this,â he said, holding a nacho close to your mouth.
You opened your mouth, just barely getting the chip in. Cupping your hand under your head, you begin to hum, the flavors all tangy, spicy, and savory. âI donât know what your childhood Dorilocos tasted like, but this is really freaking good.â
âJust know that this one is only slightly better. By 0.00001% to be exact,â he said, rubbing sauce off of the corner of your lips and licking it off. The movement was muscle memory for him as he always liked to watch your face when you ate food, especially when it came to any nostalgic or homecooked dishes you never tried before. It warmed his heart to see you find comfort in his favorite foods.
âWell, I can tell you itâs 100% better than the âTaco Tuesdayâ luncheon my job hosted last month. Nothing but unseasoned ground beef, endless black olives, and store-bought guacamole for two hours,â you respond, shuddering at the memory of soppy taco shells and your coworkers complaining about how spicy the mild salsa was.
âOn second thought, this is absolutely a step up. Was the guacamole name brand at least?â He asked, peering up at you with a twist on his lips.
âIâm pretty sure it was a grocery store brand, so no.â
âDamn.â
WINTER đ«
You were at your apartment in your bed, completely covered under the comforter with a fluffy blanket on top.
It was snowing heavily outside and you were freezing. However, your heater tended to make your apartment feel like a sauna, so you kept snatching the blanket off only to put it back on minutes later. Plus, your cycle was here. Your cramps left you lying on your side, rolling back and forth between the cool side of the bed and the warm side.
Physically, you were exhausted, but mentally, you knew you had so much to get done.
Christmas was just around the corner but you still had so many presents left to buy and wrap. Your job was doing the dreaded Secret Santa gift exchange and you were stuck wondering what gift would appeal to the stuck-up director in the accounting department.
You and Miguel were also hosting a small Christmas party amongst your friends, and there was still food left to buy. To top it all off, you were worried about your gift for Miguel, wondering if a silly little apron saying âKiss me, Iâm Irishâ would hide the fact that you spent a ridiculous amount of money on some new tech he was eyeing.
You heard the apartment door open and close.
Knowing it was Miguel, you groan out dramatically.
He opens the bedroom door and peaks inside, âBaby?â
You just groan out again, âEverything hurts, Miggy.â
He comes up to bed and sits on the edge, âI know, amor. Iâm sorry.â He bends down to kiss your head. âWant me to plug up the heat pack?â
âYeah,â you say, leaning into his hands. When he gets up to grab the pack, you whine at his absence.
âI know, I know. Iâm coming back,â he says, voice soothing.
Instead of turning the pack on, he removes your covers and sits back down on the edge. You shiver a little bit and heâs quick to cover your body with his, rubbing the top of your head as he kisses your temple.
âAre you feeling too bad to eat something for me?â Miguel asks, the timber of his voice settling you.
You shake your head and lean in closer to him.
âI think I want some food,â you reply, squeezing his body. âI havenât eaten anything yet.â
Miguel tuts as he sits up and pulls you up with him, âThatâs no good, baby. You have to eat so you can feel better. Your body needs it.â
You groan again and put your face in his neck, not wanting to move.
âCome on,â Miguel says, rubbing you from your back to your leg. âI got you some soup and a grilled cheese.â
âDid you get the stuff for the hot chocolate bar? For the party?â you whisper.
âMm hm. Jumbo marshmallows included.â
You nuzzle his neck before you look at him, âCarry me to the kitchen?â
He makes a swift move to wrap your legs around his body and hike you up.
He gets up and holds you close, heading to the kitchen, âLetâs get some food in you, yeah?â
SPRING đ
The short spring break trip that Miguel surprised you with has been lovely. Miguel woke you with kisses down your body, taking you to the hilt with his mouth alone. You had to muffle your cries as to not disturb the neighbors in the inn. As his tongue danced inside of you, you gripped his hair with one hand and his head with your thighs. Miguel wouldnât want it any other way.
After his first course, Miguel treated you to breakfast on the balcony. You two enjoyed looking over the horizon as you ate yogurt parfaits and fluffy omelets.
Later on, the two of you enjoyed a few tours of the vineyard and the city. The sights were beyond compare and the atmosphere was serene.
âThank you so much for this Miguel,â you say, interrupting the silence.
âAnything for my lady,â he says back. âYouâre doing great work this semester so you need the break.â Miguel stopped and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You leaned up and kissed him, hands warm on the sides of his face.
You both started to makeout for so long that Miguel forgot about the massage he had planned for you before tonightâs farm-to-table dinner.
Needless to say, he laid you out on your bed and oiled your body down. Your head was in your arms as rubbed his hands up and down your back. His hands were heaven and you felt like puddy by the time he flipped you over.
After he massaged your inner thighs he pounded you into the mattress. Something youâre sure the hired masseuse would never be able to do.
Miguel joked and called it the Miguel Magic Massage when you asked if he offered this special regularly. The price? Being his cariño, his amor, his sweetheart.
By the time dinner started, you were glowing. You felt adored and the courses were amazing.
Miguel made sure everyone knew you were his. His hand never left your thigh the entire meal, staring down the older men sitting at the end table who were looking a little too long at the dip of your dress.
You were oblivious, feeding Miguel bites occasionally and humming at how fresh and delicious everything was.
After the last course was over, the men came to you allâs side of the table quickly. All of them started to make conversation with you, plugging in their businesses, and stuffing their business cards in your hands.
It was as if Miguel was invisible. He scowls deeper when they let out hearty laughs at something you said.
âAre you fellas here with your wives?â Miguel asked loudly, completely irritated. âMy wife and I have really enjoyed our time here. Itâs a beautiful place for couples.â
Some of the men went red in the face flustered at Miguel catching their scheme. Others just scowled, pissed off at being interrupted.
None of them could answer his question.
You looked at Miguel, eyes heavy and relaxed.
âYou gentlemen have a great night,â you said, putting your hand in Miguelâs as he guided you to the exit.
âYour wife, huh?â you asked, core on fire. It was hot watching Miguel get so worked up over you.
âBaby, they were looking at you like you were some fresh meat. Like I wasnât even sitting there,â he grumbled.
âOne of them already offered to bring me on a cruise. Heâs staying right next to us,â you say, standing outside your room as Miguel swipes his card at the door. You walked your fingers up his chest, heated over the grit you could see from his profile.
He was oh so upset.
âHeâs next to us? Right here?â Miguel asked, voice low.
You nodded as you bit your lip, arm around his neck.
Miguel picked you up and dragged you to the bed. You giggled a little to yourself as he plopped you down. Mission accomplished. Silently, you thank those older men. If it werenât for their overconfidence, Miguel wouldnât have been tearing at your clothes like he us right now.
Miguel kept you up almost that whole night, making sure that the neighbors heard your cries. Those old geezers were sure to know his name by the next morning. Buying you a ring wasnât enough. He needed a bat.
It was all worth it to see the tired and flushed looks of their faces when you all checked out the next day.
SUMMER đŻ
âWhat the fuck,â you mumble, looking down at the pair of jeans you were trying to put on.
It was early morning. You had a family reunion that you and Miguel would take a bit of a drive to get to.
You made sure that everything was packed the following night. Some clothes to stay for a few days, a few snacks for the road, a book for you to catch up on, and even a crossword puzzle book for Miguel.
You planned ahead. You were diligent. So why is it that when everything else is going right, your pants decide not to button up?
You pulled at the flaps once more, trying your hardest to connect the button with the hole. It fails as they slip from your grasp. You try again, sucking in your stomach as much as you could. You get the button to snap in this time, but itâs digging unbearably into your skin. The zipper fights against you as you try to pull it up.
You huff out in frustration and the pants snap open again.
Defeated, you let out a watery sigh and look in the mirror.
Your stomach was bigger than you last remembered, fupa a little more prominent. Your thighs were also a little thicker, the jeans hugging them a little tight. Your breasts looked a little big in your shirt. The family name stretches a bit more across your bust than the original design intended. Even your face was a little chubbier than normal. When was the last time your jaw was like this? High school?
When did you get like this?
You felt your throat start to burn, a sob building in your system. Youâve always been fine with your body, loving the dips and curves. Adoring your flaws and finding beauty in what society decides is not worthy.
You knew this. You knew that you were beautiful. Why was it so hard to get that thought into your conscience?
You felt the tears roll down as you peeled the jeans off of your legs. They were especially tight at your hips and you wondered how you even forced them past in the first place.
You didnât know what to do. It was so hot outside, so you needed something comfortable, but those jeansâŠyou had your mind set to wear those jeans.
You rummage through your closet in frustration, pushing and pulling the clothes across the rack.
By the time Miguel found you, you were squatting in the closet, hot tears covering your face.
âBabe, itâs been almost 30 minutes and we need to head out before the work traffic starts-â
Miguel stopped in the doorway as he noticed the state of the closet, âHey, hey, whatâs wrong? ÂżQue pasĂł, cariño?â
You wipe furiously at your face, sniffling loud as you hear Miguel push clothes to the side to get to you.
âMy pants donât fit. I donât think anything else will fit either,â you say, stuttering out your words as Miguel gets to your side.
You let him pull you up into a standing position. You felt defeated.
Miguel looked at you and wiped away the tears that you missed. You feel horrible as your face scrunches up again, tears forming in your eyes.
âNo, no, no,â Miguel says, hugging you close. âListen to me. I know that this feels like a lot, but this is normal. Your body will always change with you. Youâre still the same beautiful, gorgeous woman I met years ago and thatâs not changing because you got some extra hips, baby.â
âBut Miguel,â you say, voice so sad. âI feel like I just got those pants. And. Nothing else in here goes with this shirt. Iâm scared that nothing else will fit-â
âAnd if thatâs the case, Iâll buy you new clothes,â Miguel says, pressing kisses over your face. âIf these clothes mean that much to you, Iâll take you to the gym. Let me work out with you, but until then, Iâm loving your body as is.â
You stare at Miguel, heart beating at his revelation. He stared right back at you, daring you to question or challenge his words.
âDonât beat yourself up over something like this. If anyone has ever let you feel insecure about your body, theyâre an ass, let me deal with them. If I ever do anything to make you feel insecure, tell me. Yell at me. Question me, because as far as Iâm concerned, thatâs not me.â
He hiked you up on the closet island in the middle of the room. You shiver a bit as your naked legs hit the wood.
He leans closer, placing his hands on the side of you, âNow, letâs think. Donât you have a pair of cargo shorts that match the ones Iâm wearing right now?â
You whisper out a yes.
âWould you be ok with wearing those? Iâm sure they fit perfectly.â
You say yes again, head leaning onto his. You could accessorize it perfectly. It would make a great coupleâs look.
Miguel knew this much, he just had to get you to see it.
âI love you, ok?â he says, voice clear.
âI love you, too. Thank you,â you say.
âAnything for my girl,â Miguel says. âMy beautiful girl. Sheâs just for me. I canât believe it.â
Your heart beats faster as he starts to kiss down your body.
âHer face is so lovely.â A kiss to your cheek and your lips.
âSheâs always working so hard.â A kiss to your neck and your collarbone. He pulls your shirt over your head.
âShe makes me so happy.â A suck to your breasts as he unclasps your bra.
âHer body is beyond comparison.â A trail of kisses down your stomach, your belly twitching as his breath twinkles on along your skin. âSoft. Amazing. Irresistible.â
âHer thighs are my earmuffs.â A caress to your inner thighs. Your legs snap a bit, ticklish at his ministrations.
âMiguel?â you whimper out.
âI have to relax you before this ride. Canât have you upset,â he says, kissing his way up your thighs to your panties. âMay I?â
You nod your head, fingers grasping at nothing but then a flat surface.
Miguel was swift. He pulled your underwear down and kissed at your clit. You could only hold tight as he pulled your body forward and dove in.
It wasnât long before you were shaking like a leaf. Miguel sucked at you for minutes, pulling a long orgasm out of your system.
He kneaded your thighs as you trembled around his tongue, humming as your legs squeezed tighter. That was the queue for him to go further, so he added his fingers to the mix, moving his mouth up so that his fingers could pump in and out of you.
It took all of your strength not to let your body drop off the other side of the island.
âMiggy, please,â you wailed. You wanted more.
Miguel looked up at you whining above him. You pull your legs up, holding your hands under your thighs, practically begging for him.
Miguel kissed up your body again. He was swift with removing his clothes. You still had to have these clothes fresh for later and Miguel was about to wear you out.
He moved to push himself inside of you, grunting as you gripped him.
He replaced your hands with his and pulled your legs up by his head. You balanced yourself on the island as he slowly started to thrust.
âSo good. Just for me,â Miguel said, watching as your body moved with his movement. âPerfect. And all mine.â
You remained quiet, whimpering softly as he dragged against you.
âYou heard me, hermosa?â Miguel said. âYouâre beautiful. Câmon. Say it for me.â
âIâm,â you stopped, mind foggy. You didnât know how you were supposed to respond when he was going so deep.
âSay it.â
You cried out as he snapped harder, âIâm beautiful.â
âThatâs right baby,â Miguel praises you, bending further to give you a kiss. âSo amazing.â
He praised you until you finished, squeezing at any of you that he got his hands. By the time he was done, your arms felt like jelly from holding you up.
He carried you to the bathroom for a quick shower, never stopping his reassurances of you.
You guys made it in the car an hour and a half off schedule, but it was worth it for the uplifted way you carried yourself throughout the day.
It was worth it to see you happy and healthy.
By the time you made it to the reunion, it was like you were born anew. You greeted your family with smiles and laughter. Miguel couldnât help but to cheese watching you do your thing.
He felt his heart soar as you caught up with family. Your smile was the biggest as you were out on the floor line dancing your heart out. He was right up behind you when Outstanding came on. The song was really a declaration of how he felt about you.
You giggled as he crooned in your ear.
âYou light my fire,â he sang, swinging your hips in time with his.
âI feel alive with you, baby,â he spins you around to him, a smile on his face.
âYou blow my mind,â he pulled you out and back in.
âIâm satisfied,â you squeal as he spins you in the air and puts you back down to keep dancing.
Outstanding. You really knock him out.
Another season where Miguel adored you more.
Another season where Miguel wanted you to be forever his.
Another season where he made sure he fed you well.
Another season of you making his heart pound.
Another season of your love reaching to the fullest.
Miguel was excited for the next season with you.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! đ
Any likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Let me know how you feel! đ„șđ§
Until next time,
-Lauro đ
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THE MIGUELITO
LOOKIT HIM
HE SO CUTE AND SHMOLL AND ANGY AND POCKET SIZED
I love animating cute things
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gotta love a little self-shipping đž
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Homey<3
parent!reader waking up one day, entering the kitchen and seeing dad!miguel taking care of their 6 month old baby while he fixes breakfast for the two of them because he didnât want to wake them up so they could get some rest, and then just absolutely getting the worst baby fever known to man, because why wouldnât you if thatâs what you were waking up to every day đ€đ€ that is all
(also thank you for all your hard work, you are single-handedly sustaining me and I need you to know that đ„čâ€ïž)
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Wanting More Children
Summary: Early mornings with baby babbling and chocolate chips.
A/N: This request is so cutesy!!! Thank you for sending it in, love!!
Word Count: 930
Why is it so bright?
A deep groan leaves your lips as your eyes squint against the beam of sunlight coming through your window. You sigh deeply as you turn over, grumbling into your pillow and closing your eyes again. You can feel your body beginning to melt back into the mattress when you hear something clatter to the ground. On instinct, your arms push your body up as alarms start ringing in your head. Your head feels woozy from home quickly you moved, but your eyes are frantic as you look around the room. The nerve-endings firing throughout your body calm within the next second, the sound of watery baby laughter filling your room from outside. A smile forms on your face when hurried hushing follows, which only makes the laughter louder.
Slower this time, you push yourself up and out of bed. You shiver the moment your feet hit the cold wood flooring, letting out a breath. For a moment you debate on making the bed, but the sound of pans and baby clapping convinces you to save it for later. You walk towards the bedroom door, and the second you open it the smell of batter hits you. Your stomach growls in response, saliva gathering in your mouth as you open the door further and walk out and into the hallway. The further down you walk, the closer the sound of kitchen clutter and baby babbling becomes.
The moment you emerge from the hallway, you can feel the way your heart expands. You lean against the entrance, crossing your arms with a smile on your face as you take in the sight. Your baby girl babbles nonsense to her dad, kicking in her highchair with half-eaten mini chocolate chip pancakes on her tray. On the floor is a missed spot of syrup, and guessing by the discarded baby bowl on the counter, the noise from before was her playing around. Your husband stands at the stove, a mess of pancake batter, fruits, and chocolate on the counter besides him. You don't know why the man needs so many butter knives and bowls to make pancakes, but you let him do his thing since he's the one cleaning them. He responds to your baby with oh's and aw's, pouring batter into the pan and flipping it with a spatula after a few minutes.
You're content to watch the scene forever, but your baby has other plans. Sensing your presence, your baby turns to you, her already there smile growing larger at the sight of you. Her hands slap down on her tray in excitement, happy babbles leaving her. You can't help but laugh, making your way over to her and picking her up the moment she makes grabby hands at you. Her hands are slightly sticky from syrup, but you've grown used to it, already knowing you'll be showering later. Her hands come to your face, cupping each of your cheeks as she gives you a smile. You smile back, giving her a surprised face before laughing at her elated reaction.
Her eyes shift slightly away from your face, moving to something behind you. It's the only warning you get before large arms wrap around your waist. Messy curls brush against your chin as warm breath fans your neck. A soft kiss is placed on your skin and pleasant shivers run up your spine. You turn your head and smile at the sight of Miguel.
"Hey, handsome," you greet, adjusting your baby on your hip so you can run a hand through Miguel's hair. He hums against your skin, placing one last kiss before pulling his head away from your neck.
"We didn't wake you, did we?" He asks softly, his arms unraveling around your waist until his hands are planted on your hips. You shake your head, turning back to your daughter and blowing a raspberry against her cheek. She lights up at the action, babbling and trying to replicate the noise. It causes both you and Miguel to chuckle, and you melt into his chest.
Miguel has a large smile on his face when you turn to him, love clearly shining in his eyes. When he looks down at you, that look on his face softens. He leans down and you smile against his lips when he kisses you. Even after having a kid together and being in a relationship with him for so long, you can feel the butterflies pinging against the lining of your stomach.
"Thank you for making breakfast."
Miguel smiles back, shrugging. He reaches his arm out, taking hold of the corner of your darling girl's bib and wiping away a bit of drool running from her mouth. "Anything for the two of you."
You don't think your heart has ever been more full. You turn to him, opening your mouth to say something when you pause. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. "I think... your pancakes are burning."
Miguel eyes widen and he curses, ignoring your scandalized gasp and reminder that the baby is present as he rushes to the stove. Your baby simply laughs at her father, clapping her hands. You can't help but join in, shaking your head as you watch Miguel scrape burnt pancake batter off the bottom of the pan. He throws you both a playful glare, sticking his tongue out for his daughter's amusement.
As you take in the scene, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind expanding your little family. Maybe your heart has a little room left to be filled.
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Awe i want the paw boop idk how:<
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yes, yes, i am a huge fan of that rhythmic âuh uh uhâ grunt that boys do when youâre fucking them.
I would like to add the ânnnnghhohhhmy goddddâ they bellow when you slow down for a moment and focus on one sensitive spot.
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:( <3333333
a rare morning. miguel x reader
Stirring awake, your hands rub at your eyes, trying to adjust to the new day that lies ahead of you. The coldness of the room makes you shuffle your feet against his calves, attempting to derive some warmth from his body.
Heâs still asleep, his chest rising and falling, lightâ no, heavy snores leaving his mouth. Miguelâs hands are loosely wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck. And with every exhale your skin tingles from his breath.
Selfishly, you desire to move. You want to stretch your limbs to escape from the past restraint of sleep. But you hesitate, desperately trying to think of a way to do so without disturbing your lover from his sleep. Heâs been working till late recently and waking up at times that no human possibly should be waking up at.
But, this morning was a rare morning. A rare morning where heâs promised to stay in and spend some time with you.
And he can tell that youâve been missing him lately. Your failed attempts to stay up and wait for him were obvious, heâd often find you asleep on the couch with a book opened on its spine adjacent.
Becoming restless with every second, you decide to get up for a glass of water. Now you knew that you would have to be stragtegic. One wrong move and youâll wake up him up. You first problem was the hands that held your waist.
Carefully, you begin guide one hand off. His large hands severely contrasting your own. You freeze at the sound of a groan, then an inaudible murmur.
âIs he awake?â You think to yourself. Anxiously, you wait a few seconds until his breathing returns to normal and place his hand away from you.
Now you just had to remove the other one and youâd be âfreeâ to go, that is if you donât wake him up. Your hand only seem to make it to his wrist before youâre stopped.
âBaby?â
shit.
Another groan leaves Miguelâs throat and simulatenously, his hand wraps around your waist again.
âMâjust going for a glass of water.â You whisper.
âStay.â
âMâ really thirsty, Iâll come back.â
He mumbles again and you canât make out what heâs saying, his mouth slightly covered by his pillow.
âbaby I canât hear you.â
âIâll go, you stay.â He mumbles.
âMigâ-â
âJust five more minutes.â
And with that, his hands are all over you again, caging you back with him. mission unaccomplished.
You settle back into his arms, accepting your fate. You guess you can wait a few more hours.
After a few minutes of silence, a muffled voice is heard by your shoulder.
âare you still thirsty, nena? Because I can go get you that glassââ
âno miggy, mâfine.â you smile. Perhaps if it was any other morning youâd still be restless but this?
You rarely got to experience this. his arms around you, his bare skin on yours, his naked soul entwined with your own. Upon meeting him for the first time you would have never thought that this is how youâd end up. Being one of the only people that he feels comfortable around. So much so, that he feels comfortable being vulnerable with you.
and you wouldnât take it for granted. not anymore.
i love him your honor. :(
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Full on shy mode
https://www.tumblr.com/kissitbttr/746537496996937729/a-biblically-accurate-response-from-toji-gojo-and
This but with your Fratjock!miguelđ€đ€đ„ș
âyouâre shitting me, right muñeca?â
you roll your eyes. âit was just a question, babyâ
âestĂĄs chaladoâ he tsks, shaking his head. âunbelievableâ
âexcuse me?!â you gasp at the insult (not really)
âmy dick has been in your pussy too many times! how does that not tell you anything?! have i shown you nothing?!â he exclaims, throwing his hands aggressively. âthis isâwowâthis is a blasphemy!â
âokay, Jesus of Nazareth. calm down!â
âhave. you. seen. you?!â he punctuates every single word as he glares playfully at you. âhave you SEEN yourself in the mirror?! muñeca, baby, mi amor, have you SEEN yourself naked?! HAVE YOU SEEN YOURSELF IN THE GODDAMN MIRROR EVERY MORNING MAKE UP OR NOTââ
âokay! miguel, i get the point!â
âyou make the GAYS turn STRAIGHT and the STRAIGHTS turn GAY! flash your titties at the gay parade and theyâll switch teams in seconds!â he exaggerates a bit which makes you giggle at his antic,
âalright, alright! i get the picture now, jeezâ
âCOVER YOUR BOOBIES!â
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My theme song with Miguel
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personal space heater. đ€
miguel oâhara x reader
genre : fluff đ§ž
summary : youâre cold, miguel warms you up. <3
author note : i wrote this while shivering to death (vv self-indulgent)
wc : 316
you came home late from work in the dead of winter, cursing yourself for picking up extra hours while walking to your bedroom. miguel, your boyfriend, was snoring peacefully in bed, warm and cozy. when you slipped off your uniform you realized just how cold the air around you was. you threw on one of miguelâs t-shirts (that was two sizes too big) and fought against the shivers radiating in your chest. after taking down your hair and washing your face, you rush to crawl into bed next to miguel, feeling his warmth envelope you as his soft snores fill the room.
as you scoot closer to miguel, you feel him stir from the touch of your cold hands on his body, his snores stopped filling the air around you. shit. you huddle close to him, not caring about having woken him up and searching for any kind of warmth as he groans and squirms from the shocking cold of your touch.
âwhat the hell amor?â miguel grumbly mumbles, voice thick and deliciously raspy with sleep. âsorry m-miggy iâm jusâ so c-coldâ you respond in a quivering tone. miguel sighs, rolling on his side and pulling you to press into his chest, your ice cold hands reaching under his shirt making him jump. âhey- watch itâŠ.â he says as a warning, not having any real threat behind his words.
âyouâre like a damn space heater babyâŠâ you giggle softly as you whisper to him, your whole body shivering as miguel rubs his giant hands over your arms and back to stop them. i mean- his poor baby is cold, he has to help her get warm somehow!! miguel finally wraps his arms around you, kissing your head lazily and sighing.
âgo to sleep corazĂłn, you had a long day at work..â he rests his head against yours as you slowly fall asleep in his warm, comfy arms.
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I canât Iâm dead at this point i want them both inside in one hole THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING I CANâT I LOVE IT-I FUCKING GIGGLED AND KICKED MY LEGS
Him and I (2/2)
Summary: Lyla, is it normal to be jealous of your variant?
Prev
A/N: shout out to the literal artist of the recent 2099 comics for drawing atsv miggy and comic miggy side by side, it inspired this fic in the first place. TheWarBlazer on twt :)
Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, little PWP, Word Count: 6, 355
Comic Miggy = Mig / ATSV Miggy = Miguel c:
By morning, you had woken up slowly, processing where you were and what you had done the night before. Your hair was a mess and you pulled the covers around you when it slipped off, feeling a bit chilly. You looked around you to find yourself to put on, ultimately finding your panties ripped apart from yesterday so you just settled on loose shorts and Miguelâs blue t-shirt lying to the side. You noticed he wasnât beside you but there was a smell in the air that told you he was at least still home and making breakfast.
You got up from the bed, making sure your legs worked still before peeking out the door to see if you could spot him. You turned your head from side to side until you finally caught him, leaning against the stove slightly in a compression shirt with sweatpants.
Miguel was there cooking up a basic breakfast of eggs and toast, taking a few sips of what you believe to be his protein shake. He glanced behind his shoulder to see you and he gently smiled. âHey.â
You smiled weakly back at him, hoping he wouldnât notice your cheeks darkening. âHey. Morning.â You waved awkwardly.
Miguel chuckled and pointed to a bag on the glass table. âI bought some empanadas from the panaderia I go to. I didnât know which one youâd like so I got both chicken and beef.â He faced back to the pan to scramble his eggs. You made your way over to the bag, opening it up to see another smaller set of bags labeled messily with Miguelâs handwriting.
âWhich one do you recommend?â You asked, taking one from the beef label.
âThe chicken.â He responded. You chuckled to yourself since the other Miguel preferred beef.
You walked over next to him and watched him work as you took a bite into the empanada. He turned and gave you a small smile, satisfied that you liked what he brought you.
âAre you feeling okay?â He asked, turning off the stove and taking two plates from the cupboard. You nod.
âYeah. Just, uh, starting to wake up.â You blush softly, remembering the scenes from last night. Mig hides the prideful smile on his face.
âThatâs good. Iâm glad.â He places a decent amount on both of your plates and leads you to the dining table where you both begin eating and chatting.
He admires you as you speak, finding the beauty in this new you that he once knew.
After a while, you and Miguel felt the air shift, mugs and utensils starting to hover a bit in mid-air. You stiffened, knowing what this feeling was. Someone was opening a portal. Someone found you.
You quickly stand up and Miguel follows with a worried expression. âWhatâs wrong?â He asks, on edge and his talons extract subconsciously to the unknown he felt around him. You donât answer and instead face the door of his bedroom where the warping was. Your spider senses went wild but calmed down the moment you realized that this was another spider personâthey werenât threats but you were just shocked.
You take a step back, closer in front of Miguel in case whatever spider person would ask questions. What you werenât prepared for, was your boss opening the bedroom door to walk where you two were.
There was the leader of the Spider Society in all his glory, Miguel OâHaraâthe original version you knew.
âMiguelâŠâ You gasped breathlessly in shock, barely a whisper. Shit. âHe-hey!â You laugh nervously. âYou, uh, wowâhaha.â You were speechless, knacking your brain to say somethingâanything to explain yourself. âYou found me,â you chuckled nervously. âYâknowâIâI was lost for a bit but umâthankfullyâI found another spider person andâwouldnât you know itâ itâs another you. So I wasâŠextraâŠsafeâŠâ You trail off, noticing how Miguel had stared behind you to look at his other variant. You glance behind you to see the redhead tense up, standing up straighter to not be intimidated by this other version of himself.
âYes. I was looking for you.â Miguel grunts, still as hardworking as ever. âThe others were worried.â
Your gaze softened, thinking of your friends and feeling your heart swell at their concern. âYeah. But Iâm safe and look,â You showed your watch up to Miguel, his eyes ripping themselves off his variant to your watch. âHe fixed it for me. You two really are alike.â You smile.
âIâI was gonna go back, but the watch was just fixed. No communications and the touch pad wasnât workingââ You tried to explain but your boss cuts you off.
âYeah, yeah, thatâs great. Now we need you back.â He frowns down at you. Your smile drops and so does your heart.
âWellâŠwell of course butââ
âBut?â Miguel cocks an eyebrow up, his frown deepening. You purse your lipsâeven though you knew Miguel close enough, he was still your boss. You glance back at his counterpart apologetically and in turn he glances down at you.
âIâm sorry.â You whisper your apology to him and he doesnât like it.
âYou donât have to go.â He whispers back to you, one hand resting on your arm and the other cupping your cheek. Neither of you notice your boss glare at the way heâs touching you. âYou can go back whenever.â He insists.
âActually she canât,â The brunette's voice booms between you two. âShe has a job to do as Spider-Womanâat the HQ.â He hisses out.
âBut she wants to stay here. You canât just make her.â The redhead retaliates. Miguel grows annoyed, kissing his teeth with a loud tsk.
âShe isnât yours.â MIguel grabbed your arm and tugged you towards his chest. The redhead grabbed onto your other arm and tried pulling you away from him, making you in the middle.
âShe isnât yours either.â He spat back. Both Miguelâs scowled at one another, your boss puffing up his chest to tower over both of you while his variant bared his fangs unwavering to his attempt to scare him off. âDid you even bother to ask what she wants?â
You look up at the redhead, even though he was facing off his counterpartâthey could very well tear each other apart. âMiggy, just hold onââ
âMiggy?!â Your boss scrunches up his face, not even prepared to hear a nickname come out of your mouth for his variant. You blushed and opened your mouth in shockâthe nickname had spilled out.
âNotâNot like that! It isnât like that!â
âNot like that? What, so you just have sex with every variant? Give them pet names right after?â He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms in a snarl.
You start babbling to defend yourself but Mig perks up.
âWhat do you mean by that?â He asks. You and Miguel both turn to himâyou still flustered while Miguel scowls at his counterpart.
âWhat are you talking about?â
âHow did you know we had sex?â Mig crosses his arms and narrows his eyes up at Miguel on the other side. You blink for a moment and then it slowly processes in your brain.
HeâŠHe watched. But how?
The watch.
You snapped your neck back to your boss and you see him clench his jaw but his eyes donât look at down at youâthe tips of his ears grow increasingly red.
âYou watched,â Mig laughs, shaking his head in disbelief and throwing his hands up. âYou watched,â He repeats. âYou sick-"
Stubbornly, Miguel tries not to falter. âShe called.â
But his own self knows better than that. âAnd you stayed.â
âI was making sure she was safe.â
âOh, that makes sense. Making sure she could safely cum? Yeah, I handled that.â
âGuysââ You interrupt with pure horror on your face. âCan we please not?â You turn to face Miguelâs general direction but you donât meet his eyes. âWe can just forget about everything in the last twenty four hours and what happened here soââ
âI want you back at HQ,â Miguel grumbles, turning his head away from you but still protecting his masculinity and pride with his arms tightened around him. âAway from here and back to work.â
His counterpart scoffs a humorless laugh. âNow I get it,â He walks up to Miguel and pulls you behind him âYouâre jealous.â
Miguel squints his eyes down at him. âWhat?â He growls but the otherâs smile only grows. Heâs figured him out. They have the same mind after all.
âJealous,â He repeats. âDid you have some feelings for her? Is that why youâre here all pissed? Just cause I got to her first?â
âDonât piss me off.â Miguelâs face hardens, his frown growing deeper and showing his fangs off to threaten him.
âOr what?â Mig growls back, his talons extracting from his fingertips.
Feeling the growing tension, you try to speak up since one Miguel was dangerous enoughâtwo of them would be catastrophic.
âHeyâcan we not, maybe?â You interject, moving beside Mig and trying to catch your bossâ eye. Mig turns his head at you for a moment and then grinning to himself as he comes up with an idea.
The redhead hugs your back close to his chest, one hand on your hip and the other sliding up his shirt youâre wearing to reveal your stomach to the brunette. âMig!â You gasp, blushing fiercely and holding onto his arms. You look away from your boss in embarrassment, opting to hide in his variant's neck, which he happily allows. You fail to notice your bossâs breath hitch at seeing your bare skin and his pupils being blown wide. The Miguel behind you smirks even wider.
âWe could share.â
âI donât share.â He growls.
âSo you do want her. Just for yourself.â Miguel doesnât respond, his eyes focused on the way you squirmed under his gaze alone.
âMigâMig, please.â You whine when you feel his porcelain hand disappear under your shirt to cup one tit in his hand and run his thumb over your nipple.
âStop that.â Miguelâs jaw clenched when his eyes met his match. Bright red eyes narrowing at his scarlet ones.
âIâm not stupid. Iâm you. I know what you want,â The redhead murmurs, grazing his teeth on your earlobe. âWhat she wants,â His mouth curls up when he sees you purse your lips to hide your moans but he can feel your heartbeat. âWhat we all want right now.â
Mig looks up at the other version of himself, realizing that this one might not be as confident as he is. A by the rules asshole who was all about work, work, work. He was the same but not to this extent. However, if this Spider-Man was anything like him, all he had to do was wave the candy in front of his face and heâd crack. No matter the universe, Miguel OâHara always grabbed what he wanted if the right buttons were pressed.
Your soft mewl snaps them both out of their mental warfare, two pairs of eyes looking down at you between them to see you look bashful and hot with embarrassment. For a moment, both men stop, equally concerned with putting you in the middle. Your boss feels the most guilt but Mig on the other hand feels less so. With his hand right by your heart, he can feel the heat emanating from your body and pounding heartbeat against your ribs. He has felt the same need and craving when you were squealing last night.
âIsnât that something you want?â Mig hums, his hand on your hip playing with the string of your shorts. Miguel takes a firm step forward to stop him but was stopped when you nodded your head. Your eyes still shut while you felt your cheeks burning. Migâs touch was intoxicating especially with the feeling of him on you from last night still lingering on your body.
âI need words, sweetheart.â He hums and you purse your lips for a moment.
âYesâŠâ You choke out.
âYes, what?â Mig asks you but looks at Miguel.
âYes, I want itâŠâ You groan, feeling humiliated but it was exhilarating at the same time. The redhead slides his hand under your shorts to feel the new wet patch growing between your legs. Mig smirks as he remembers slicing off your panties last night. He nudges your legs, a silent command to spread them apart and you give him that access with shaky steps. He lets you relax on his chest while his fingers spread your folds apart while you whimper. Miguel stares at the hand in your pants with a blush across his face, fighting his two emotions of wanting to stop this and wanting to make you whimper like that.
Your bossâ variant bunches up your shirt over your breasts and you writhe in his hold, trying to gain some sense of decency while the two men basically get off on just the sight of you.
âYou want more, donât you?â Mig behind you purrs, his fingers in your shorts gently rub circles against your clit while his other hand tweaks and pinches your nipple. âWant to feel nice and full?â He kisses along your neck and you try to grind against his fingers, wanting them to slip inside but he was just teasing you. You moan softly, focusing on the feeling of electricity jolting down to your core.
âUh-huh, mhmâplease,â You whined. Miguelâs breathing increases and his suit strains to accommodate for the bulge growing between himself. His hands clench and unclench beside him as he itches to grab your body to feel the soft skin you could provide him. His eyes lingered on your tits and he licked his lips subconsciously.
âHear that? She wants more. Isnât that convenient?â The redhead chuckles, slipping his hand out from your pants and showing up with his fingers covered from the juices your cunt provided him. âYou just gonna leave her like this? Or are you gonna help out your precious little employee?â He taunts Miguel and Miguel swallows the lump in his throat.
Miguel takes another step forward just enough to be in front of you and to feel the heat coming off you and his variant. He hesitantly rests his hand on your hip and you flinch, not expecting to feel a third hand on your body. Miguelâs variant raises his slick soaked fingers to your mouth and smears a bit of it on your bottom lip. You open up slightly but Mig had already slid them inside your mouth making your tongue taste yourself. You whine as best you could with his fingers in your mouth and look up at Miguel with shame. You felt your cheeks burning hot but your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Miguel stared down at you, huffing softly as he watched you suck your slick off his own variants fingers.
âFuckâŠâ He groaned and his grip on your hip tightened. âCan I? Please.â He bent over slightly, his breath hitting your face. The redhead behind you watched and then flicked your nipple when you didnât respond fast enough. You yelped around his digits and felt them slip out, a string of saliva coming out.
You nodded again, reaching one hand off Migâs arm to hold onto Miguelâs shoulder.
Miguel slides your shorts down, pooling them underneath you and moans when he finds you without underwear, his cock twitching in anticipation. His hand on your hip slides down to lift your leg up and he moves closer to rub his crotch against your core. The blunt nudge sent a jolt of pleasure through your body and you nearly fell back if Mig wasnât holding you from behind. Miguelâs other hand rises up to cup your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh between his fingers.
âAhâFuckâŠ!â You gasp and roll your head back against his variant's shoulder, your eyes barely glancing down at the two toned hands cupping and grabbing your body. You feel Mig thrust softly behind you, poking your ass while Miguel continues to grind up against your pussy. Your mind went foggy as you felt both men surround you, the fantasy of being taken by both of them sent your brain short circuiting.
The shirt you had been wearing fumbles back down, covering yourself once more. Miguel grunts in annoyance, letting go of your breast to rip the fabric into shreds with his talons that made Mig tsk. Miguel went back to playing with your nipple until he leaned down to latch onto it, flicking the nub gently with his tongue. You twitched and gasped, arching your back off Mig and into Miguelâs mouth. âMiguel!â You mewl and he groans in response, biting it with his teeth and pulling before letting go and watching how erect it had gotten, wet with his spit.
You hear Mig grunt behind you, bucking his hips against your ass to feel some friction for his cock. His arm wrapped around your middle to pull you against him, his lips dragged along your neck in open mouthed kisses and his hand returned to twist your nipple between his index finger and thumb. Miguel pulled away from you a bit so glance down at the soaking mess you made on his suit, his cock throbbing for more. So, he rips his variantâs hand off your waist.
Miguel then hauled you over his shoulder, returning back to the bedroom and tossing your body on the mattress, giving you a strange sense of deja vu. Mig rolled his eyes and followed behind your two and saw you on his bed once more. You squeak and cover your eyes when Miguel phased out of his suit and Mig tossed his shirt up and over his head. Miguel crawls in bed with you, his frame basically covering everything in front of you. You peek through your fingers and close your legs which makes both men frown. Mig crawls beside you, pulling one leg apart while Miguel takes the other. Mig takes your hands away from your face and settles for kissing your cheeks and trailing down to your jaw and collarbone.
âDonât be shy,â He murmurs, his hands cupping your tits in his large palms. âYouâve already had one of us. Whatâs another one, hm?â You moan out when he plays with one nipple in his hand and sucking the other. Miguel kisses down your stomach, finding himself fond of your thighs, squishing them in his hands and grazing them softly with his talons. Goosebumps rise to your skin as his tongue teases just outside your pussy.
Miguelâs plump lips take your clit and he gently sucks on it, his tongue licking up and down and swirling around it. You quickly grip both Miguelâs hair in one hand and pull them closer to you body. Your mind didnât know who to focus on first, it was like they touched every nerve possible and turned you numb, only to feel pleasure and nothing else.
Miguel pulls away entirely, spreading your folds apart to see the increasing amount of slick you were producing and he groaned. He slips a finger inside you pushing through from how tight you surrounded yourself on his digit. âCoñoâŠâ Miguel mutters. You spread your legs further apart, Miguel kissing the inside of your thigh appreciatively. Your head rolls back as the two men assault every possible soft spot on your body.
Mig twists your nipple between his fingers at the same time his mouth suckled around your other nipple. You felt his teeth nibble the bud, his fangs grazing over you delicately. Miguel continues to ease his finger deeper inside you, preparing you for another finger. You moan loudly, writhing beneath them desperately and itâs no useânot when two grown men are keeping you still with their weight and hands. You try bucking your hips further down Miguelâs fingers, whimpering his name and gasping. Miguel curls his fingers inside you, hitting the soft spot youâve been craving and so you squeal in pleasure. Mig quickly lets go of your abused nipple to kiss you and hinder your moaning.
Miguel growls and glares at the redhead. âI want to hear her.â
âMmm, too bad.â Mig chuckles against your lips and slips his tongue in your mouth. You could barely focus, face contorted in pleasure as Miguel takes it as a challenge. He dives back into your cunt, pumping his fingers while his tongue flicks up and down to lap up your juices. Your moans are muffled by Migâs mouth but your hips buck wildly to meet your bossâ wet muscle licking you up. He pins your hips down so he can focus on eating you out properly and you whimper, your body completely hindered and at their command. His nose nudges against your clit and you claw into their hair. One hand in straight ginger locks while the other hand yanks on wavy brown strands.
Mig pulls away from your lips to take a deep breath, both your tongues and lips are wet from swapping spit. Youâre breathless from the kiss so you stick to small whines and mewling as you hump yourself on Miguelâs fingers and mouth. He feels you convulsing around his fingers and he eases a third finger, scissoring you to stretch you out just a little more. âMiguel! Miguel! So close, I'm so closeâplease!â You beg, trying to fight against his hands holding you down.
But Miguel pulls away all of a sudden. The pressure inside your abdomen disappears and you groan in frustration. âNo!â
âTranquilo. Youâll get what you want.â Miguel mutters under his breath. He looks over at his variant, a silent conversation going on that only a Miguel would ever understand. Mig settles by your head, his cock strained against his sweatpants. You look over lazily at it and try to reach for his waistband but he stops you with a gentle smile.
âNot yet, princess.â He kisses your knuckles before dropping it back to your side. Youâre confused for just a moment but youâre pulled out of it when you feel Miguel lift your legs over his shoulders. He lines his cock up with your entrance, his angry red tip dribbling an insane amount of precum. He glides himself in between your folds to lube himself up and your pussy throbs feeling how hard he is. Miguel huffs, his cheeks flushed as the lust clouds his judgment and mind.
Being as gentle as he possibly could, Miguel pushes his tip inside you. You gasp and arch your back, Miguel being just a bit bigger than youâve taken before. Mig jumps into action, playing with your nipples while he runs kisses along your neck. âHold onto me, mama. Iâve got you.â He murmurs. Your hand grips into his hair again while the other grips the sheets.
âMig, MigâŠâ You whine while Miguel pushes further inside. Miguel rubs your thighs to ease you into some comfort and trying to stop himself from splitting you apart. Both men whisper sweet nothings to you, praising you for how well youâre doing and how good itâll feel. Miguel rubs your clit in small circles while he reaches the hilt.
âSâgoodâŠâ Miguel murmurs. âYouâre doing so good.â He slowly pulls out, watching your pussy soak his cock. He strokes himself inside you softly as to not hurt you but, damn, was it hard. Mig tries to relieve your stress by bringing your nipple in his mouth again, his hands holding you and rolling your other nipple between his fingers.
You moan and arch your back, your hips lifting up to meet one of Miguelâs soft thrusting. That feeling you had last night of needing something more was slowly being quenched. Having multiple hands, multiple options of pleasure was just what you needed and it seemed like they thought the same. Miguel held your legs up while he picked up his pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. You felt him stretch you out with every thrust, your pussy coating his cock with wet slapping and sticky echoes. Mig murmurs into your ear.
âCan you feel it? You take cock so well, look at you. You look so pretty getting fucked, hm? Oh, you poor thing.â Mig taunts you, his hands squeezing your breasts in his palms, your nipples and mounds having bite marks all over them. You wail and thrust your hips to meet Miguel's pounding, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you felt the same pressure of your orgasm coming up.
Miguel groans, panting and huffing to keep himself steady while he fucks you. His hand presses down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling his tip slide in and out and poke through your stomach.
For some reason, that was the final push you needed to cumâyour pussy clenching and unclenching as you cream and cry around Miguelâs thick girth. Your legs shook in his hands while he rammed into you to prolong your orgasm. He pulled out before he could cum with his teeth clenched tightly while Mig let go of your tits and stood up from the bed. Miguel takes a few deep breaths as he watches you barely recover from your high. His cock was still painfully hard and now glistening with your cum. Your body was bruisedâ hickeys around your chest from Mig and tiny scratches on your legs and thighs from Miguelâs talons.
Miguel tugs you up and lies you on your stomach so youâre facing the foot of the bed. You feel him tap your thigh. âKnees. Câmon.â He mumbles and you weakly try to lift yourself up but Miguel grows impatient, settling for just picking up your bottom half himself. His calloused hands grip into your plush hips, carrying most of your weight. You see Mig approach where you are and you look up. He smirks down at you and narrows his eyes downward and you follow. You gulp and grab the sheets into your fists when youâre met with the sight of him stroking his cock softly. Your mouth drops open in surprise and you feel your mouth water. His tip was already red and leaking and youâre entranced with the way he rubs his thumb across the head to smear his precum as lube.
His other hand lifts your gaze back up at him with his thumb forcing your lips apart to open them. You blink up at him and his heart skips a beat at how pretty youâll look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. The redhead looks at his counterpart from behind you, giving him a small nod and he returns one back.
âBe a good girl and open up.â Mig hums and taps his cock to your lipsâheâs been waiting for this. You open up and stick your tongue out for him to slide onto. His tip feels heavy as he nudges himself deeper in your warm mouth, his breathing already increasing rapidly. Your lips wrap around his thick cock, nearly hitting his base but enough for the red hair of his pubes to graze your nose. He groans above you, struggling to force you deeper down himself and instead reaches for your hair to grab onto.
You feel Miguel behind you slide his cock back inside you, pushing himself to the hilt where his balls smack your sensitive folds and bumping your forward, making you choke on Migâs dick. The redhead hisses and grunts, yanking you back. âBe shocking careful.â He growls at Miguel but he ignores him. Miguelâs mind is somewhere else entirely, his eyes havenât left your ass. He grips each cheek in his hand and bites his bottom lip, his fang piercing the skin for a second.
âQue bonita eres,â Miguel praises, tugging you back against his pelvis and making his cockhead arch up into your sweet spot. You shook and rolled your eyes back, nearly falling apart if it werenât Mig holding you up. You clamp down on his cock instinctively which makes your boss choke on his gasp.
âShitâsheâs still tight.â Miguel moans, rocking his hips against your ass. âRelĂĄjate, mi amorâasĂ, asĂ.â
Your body moves after every push of Miguelâs thrustsâpushing you back and forth on the cock in your cunt and the cock in your mouth simultaneously. Mig moans in turn, the vibration from your own whimpering runs down his length for stimulation. His hand keeps a tight grip in your hair to make sure your head stays up and sucking. You feel your neck strain to look up while both men use your body for their own pleasure.
Sounds of slurping, squelching, and moaning surround the room. You could hear the quiet grunt of Mig while Miguel was a little louder, groaning and muttering things under his breath. You thought for a split second that Miguel was little more rough on you than his counterpartâor maybe it couldâve just been because itâs his first time fucking you. You didnât care honestly.
You tried to focus on the Miguel in front of you, his dick filling your mouth and his tip occasionally poking the back of your throat and making you tear up. Your tongue swirls around him, gagging a bit and leaving copious amounts of spit on him. You glide your tongue under a throbbing vein of his and he hisses above you, his hand pulling your head forward to take him deeper and slapping his balls on your chin. âFuck, I shouldâve made you do this earlierââ He moans. âShouldâve known those pretty lips would do some good sucking me off.â He thrusts a bit faster and you can practically feel him swell up at the thought.
You moan around him, spit dribbling out your mouth and down your chin. You could taste the new flavor of his salty precum on your taste buds and the natural musk of his cock. Your jaw began to feel sore from being stretched open to accommodate his girth. Migâs hand tried to shakily push back the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face. âThatâs it, gorgeous. Youâre doing so good for me. You like that? Feeling full, hm?â He teased, knowing you couldnât even answer if you tried.
More saliva accumulated inside your mouth and you moaned around him pathetically as your response. You pussy clenched from his teasing which made the brunette behind you groan and pump himself faster inside you. He held your hips tightly going fast and short strokes which increased the sound of skin slapping on skin. You focused your eyes up at the redhead until your eyes widened feeling a hard smack to your ass.
You whined around Migâs cock, feeling the tears prick in your eyes from pain and pleasure while Miguel behind you left a few more slaps to your ass before squeezing it in his large hand. Mig looked over at his counterpart fucking you from behind, kneading the plump flesh while he bucked wildly like an primal animal. Miguelâs eyes were clouded with raw lust, focusing on the way your ass jiggled and rippled with every pound and slap, how you mewled around his variantâs cock and how your previous orgasm made it so much easier to slip in and out of you.
God, you were perfect, Miguel thought to himself. So desperate and so willing to have not just one of him but two. âSo greedy,â He murmured between heavy breaths. âJust had to have two cocks, huh? Just one isnât enoughâcouldnât settle so you wanted me to fuck you, is that it? Needed your boss to cum inside this weeping cunt?â Miguel groaned and lolled his head slightly back while his hips began to speed up. His cock swelled inside you, his balls tightening for release but he held backâjust a little longer, it feels too good.
Your eyes rolled back, unable to keep sucking the redhead dick anymore with how their teasing and talking sent you in overdrive. Drool leaked out of you and you felt your pussy gush more juices on him and down your thighs. Mig pats your cheek to wake you up out of your cock-drunk haze.
âHead up, princess. Keep sucking, Iâm so close.â He moans, grabbing the back of your head and shoving you up and down on his length.
You were made for this, both Miguelâs decided. You knew just how to please them, your pussy was already carved in the shape of their cocks, your tongue knowing exactly how to suck. Now that they had you, they were never letting go. Maybe there are some things Miguel OâHara can share.
You weakly went back to sucking Mig off, but he didnât mind. Just the feeling of your wet warm and drooling mouth was enough to have his cock twitching down your throat.
âHaah, fuckââ The man above moans, gripping your hair tightly in his fists. âShit, shitâIâm gonna cum.â He whines and tries to pull himself off you but you whimpered and reached out your hand to grab his thigh from moving away. He looks down to see your eyes pleading and begging him.
âYou wanna swallow?â He asks between huffs, a smirk slowly curling up. âAlright. Iâll give you what you want, princess.â You closed your eyes, a silent thank you as you tried to properly help him reach his climax and cum in your mouth. Mig closes his eyes and thrusts in abandon, his tip rubbing against the back of your throat and swelling up before releasing in your mouth. You gag a bit, unexpecting so much to come out but you tried swallowing as much of him as you could.
You felt him softening on your tongue while you drank his thick cum, some of it being too much and dribbling down your lips and his length, Your tongue slipped around him to make sure he got his fill before he slid out your lips. A string of his cum and your saliva connecting from his tip to your wet lips. Mig stroked his cock a few more times, the beads of leftover cum spurting from his tip which you happily lapped up with the tip of your tongue.
âOh, such a good girl.â Mig praises, his thumb cupping your chin to open your mouth to make sure you swallowed everything. You opened up softly, moaning and whimpering freely now that you arenât hindered by dick down your throat. Mig, now exhausted from cumming, pulled away from you to sit on one of his plush chairs in his bedroom. His chest heaved up and down as he calmed down from his high. Meanwhile, your head fell to rest on the edge of the mattress while Miguel continued to hump you, his cock engorging every second with his own release. Especially with the way you moaned and squealed.
âTan mojada, tan apretadaâay Diosâpor favor, por favorâ"Miguel moaned, slurring under his breath while he looked down to watch his dick disappear in your pussy and reappear with an unbelievable amount of wetness. His thrust went out of rhythm, now a desperate attempt to just finish inside you.
âIâm gonna cum inside, okay?â He groans. âEso se suena bien, mami?â He leans over you to pound his cock in a different spot, his hand coming down to push your head in the mattress. Your cheek is smushed to the side and you can barely see Miguel fucking you from behind but you can feel his hand grab your entire head.
âUh-huh!â You babble, mouth just being filled and drenched with cum. Miguel sees your eyes half-lidded and rolled back, jaw slack as you spill out moans and more drool with his variants cum drying on your chin and lips.
Miguel lets out a deep growl from his throat as he fastens his pace, his talons pricking your skin around your hip to keep you steady while he uses you. You scream his name, your vision going white and hot with pleasure as you finally reach your orgasm again. You came around him, the sound of wet plaps becoming more prominent as Miguel thrusts his last few times.
Seeing your body go limp and sensitive from just orgasming made his moan in response, his cock twitching wildly before stiffening and shooting his thick load inside you. He painted your insides white, the warmth of it slipping out between him and you from the sheer amount of cum he produced. Miguel continued to slowly pump himself dry, making sure your pussy squeezed every drop he could offer, shuddering when he pulled out of your wet walls to see himself drenched in both your fluids.
Miguel let you go, watching your spent body flop down without the help of him picking you up. It was now more quiet than usual, just the sounds of heavy breathing as you collected yourselves, sweat dripping down everyoneâs skin.
Mig smirks lazily from his comfortable plush chair, his cock in his hand and semi-hard from watching you two finish. He glances at Miguelâs glistening cock, also semi-hard just by watching how you glow after cumming.
âI could go another round.â Mig huffs and Miguel turns to him with a tired look but with a speck of lust ignited in them.
You whimpered and shook from the aftershocks of your orgasm still flowing through you. âNoâŠno more. IâmâŠItâs so sensitiveâŠâ You drooled on the sheets, trying to catch your breath and feel the nerves come back to your body.
Miguel looks down at you and nudges your legs apart to see the damage done to your pussy. Swollen and glistening with all types of fluids and cum. He uses his fingers to spread your folds and you twitch and whine weakly, Miguelâs cum oozing out of you. He jams the amount that had leaked out of your back inside with two of his fingers, making you moan. His other hand grabs your ass cheek apart and he grins.
Miguel looks up at his counterpart only to see him with the same toothy smirk. Great minds think alike.
âWell, there is⊠one hole we havenât used yet.â
A/N: are u happy to be in paris? :3
To the lovelies that wanted to be tagged <3 đ·
@oscarissac2099 @huniedeux @mcmiracles @gltzpzy @ahano @the-pan-liquid @julian0800 @2099gf @jadeloverxd
feedback appreciated ! plz be nice _(:3ăâ )_
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OH MY FUCKING GAWD????????
Him and I (1/2)
Summary: You get thrown into another, another dimension while on a mission with Miguel. You end up meeting Miguel's variant where lingering feelings lie.
Next
Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, PWP, Word Count: 6,808
CW: just a smidge of voyeurism
It was rough how you ended up here in another dimension and it wasnât ideal either. Earlier, you were on a mission with Miguel and doing the usual of tracking and containing anomalies. However, this one was a little rough, giving both you and Miguel a hard time with how slippery it had been.Â
Arriving at the scene, Miguel quickly barked orders at you to scan the place to track and trace any possible disrupted canon events. While he went one way, you went the other and for a while, neither of you had been able to grab it. Until your watch pinged with a hologram of Miguelâs face calling to tell you he found the anomaly and was leading it towards you for some backup. Putting on your mask, you swung away on your webs to meet him halfway.
One thing led to another and both of you were hollering at each other different plans and strategies since this anomaly was somehow escaping every chance it got. Miguel grabbed on its neck and yanked it back which made it screech and slam him against a brick wall. He grunted and let go from the sheer force of it. The anomaly went head first for you to which you jumped on its back. Eventually, you held onto it and tried to use your watch to open a portal. The anomaly tried ripping you off it, scratching your watch and damaging the touch pad. Whatever number you tried putting in, was jumbled up and yet a portal opened up anyway. Time and space warped around you two, the wormhole trying to suck up anything. The anomaly then grabbed you and ripped you off its back, throwing you into the portal which shut right after you went through.
So here you are, in a dimension that isnât your New York, but it did look like a certain someoneâs Nueva York. Tall buildings, hovercrafts and holographic billboards were plastered everywhere. You looked down at your watch and saw claw marks on the touchpad, small sparks of electricity fizzed out but it wasnât too damaged, you decided. You werenât glitching so you counted that as a win. You heard a familiar zip of web shooters being used from above. Tilting your head up, you saw the familiar red and mostly blue suit swinging by and ignoring you. You squinted at the figure leaving.
âMiguelâŠ?â You whispered to yourself. Pushing the watch problem aside, you began following him, trying to catch up to him. âMiguel!â You called out through the whipping winds as you gained speed.
His figure thwipped around, seemingly trying to get you off his tail. You grew frustrated. Why was he just avoiding you? If he was here, that means the anomaly had gotten away and itâd be more work for both of you.
He then made a sharp turn around a tall building. You nearly passed it but you stopped yourself just in time to swivel your head around to see where he had gone. Your eyes honed in on his figure crawling up the side of the building and into an open window. With determination, you shot your web to the building and began crawling up. Once you made it to the damn near very top, you opened the window and crawled in. With your feet now planted on the floor, you took off your mask and looked around. It was a bedroom and a large one at that with a giant king sized bed and a giant set up where you assumed would display a holographic screen. You noted it was dark too with all the lights switched off and Miguel was nowhere to be seen. You were sure you saw him crawl in this room. You began walking around the room just to make sure, trying to find anything. When you didnâtâthe lack of pictures was appallingâ you made your way over to the bedroom door and took a peek outside of it. The hallways were just as dark, if not darker. You took a step out and squinted your eyes, hoping your vision would adjust to the lighting.
You heard a shift far in front of you and paused in your steps. You tried focusing on whatever was in front of you and thatâs when you saw red eyes. You froze and held your breath while the eyes simply watched you, slightly moving as it seemingly saw you through the dark.
These eyes were familiar to you and so you dropped your guard. âMiguelâŠ?â You called out again. âWhat the hell? I was right behind you! Did the anomaly throw you in here too?â
You tried approaching him but then backed up when he came closer as well, at a faster rate than you thought. Your gasped and your spider senses went haywire. With a bit of difficulty on your end, you looked up to see someone who wasnât Miguel. Or you thought.
The man had Miguelâs scarlet orbs, but instead of brown hair he had dark red hair to match his eyes. Instead of brown skin, he had white skin. He had a similar face shape with the same sharp cheekbones and strong jawline but his face was a bit longer than that. You noticed a five oâclock shadow he mightâve been planning to shave off soon. His height was shorter than your Miguel but it was still tall enough to tower over you. His face was in a scowl, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, on guard for the danger that he decided you were. You took a glance down his chest, the spider emblem different than you rememberâmuch sharper than your Miguelâs geometric shapes.
âWhoâŠwho are you?â You asked, taking a few steps back and this man following, his eyes never leaving yours. If you searched for a while longer, you wouldâve seen a hint of disbelief and hidden fondness.
âMiguel OâHara. Who are you?â He growled. You gulped flinching when your back hit the wall and his clawed hand struck the space by your head to cage you against him.
You stated your name with a shake of your voice. It seemed to anger him further.
âDonât lie to me.â He grit his teeth, his lips curled to show his fangs.
âItâItâs not! I swear!â You insisted. âListen, I can explain. Iâm from another dimension. IâIâm part of this society full of other people like usâwith spider powers. I gotâŠblasted here by some villain when I was with youâor the variant youâbut Iâm not here to fight some more.â You sighed, hoping he could have some sense and maybe believe you.
Miguelâs eyes narrowed down at you to search and scan for just an ounce of lying in your tone but he found none. His facade cracked for a moment, almost melancholy and sad before hardening again. He separated from you, standing taller and retracting his talons back to his fingertips. You saw him hesitate to lift his hand up but he decided against it. âHow did you get here?â He asked lowly.
You lifted your wrist to show your damaged watch. âItâs more or less a dimension hopping device,â You elaborated. Miguel attempted to slip it off your wrist but you stopped him. âI have to keep it on or else Iâll start glitching andâit hurts.â You laughed nervously a bit at the end. Miguelâs facial expression didnât waver. He only held your wristâgently at thatâ and turned it around to examine it.
âI can fix it.â He murmured nonchalantly with a raise of his reddish eyebrow. You sighed. Even in another dimension, Miguel is just as sure of himself. He looked up to meet your eyes, softer but still guarded. âIf youâll let me.â
You nodded enthusiastically. âYes! Yes, please, of course. Thatâd be great. Thank you.â He let go of your hand and turned around to a space in his home where various inventions laid around and you followed suit with big eyes. âWoah⊠This is..cool.â You mumbled. Miguel looked over his shoulder as he walked, a ghost of a fond smile on his lips when you werenât looking. Then suddenly, a bright yellow figure popped up. She was life sized with long white blonde hair in a side part with a white long dress.
âWelcome home, Miguel,â She placed her hands behind her back and gave him a dimpled smile. Her smile faltered when she saw you. âIs thatââ
Miguel cut her off by introducing your name to her. âSheâs from another dimension. Thatâs all, Lyla.â You couldnât see Miguels face but you did see Lylaâsâwhich you were surprised at the stark difference. You saw her eyes glance at Miguel and then stand up a bit taller, her smile coming back. It was as if they had a mutual understanding.
âOf course, Miguel.â She closed her eyes and phased out again, leaving the two of you alone again. Miguel turned around to face you and gestured to a stool by a nearby table. You walked over and sat on it, Miguel grabbing another chairâand a toolbox it seemedâand placing himself beside you. He offered his hand and you gave it to him, your size difference being much clearer. Miguel took off his suit gloves which surprised you once more since your Miguelâs suit wasnât necessarily standard fabric like this one. But since this one had claws too, the suit must also be made of some technology youâre not aware of.
Miguel took a look inside the damage the claws had done to the watch and began working on it silently. You took the time to notice his features and began comparing it to the other Miguel subconsciously.
The five oâclock shadow you had noticed before was also coming in red. It seemed like this version of Miguel leaned more into his Irish side. His hair was in a short side part, with his fringe falling on his forehead but he didnât seem to pay any mind to it. The small glances he took at you made you see his eyes more clearly. They were the same red as your Miguel and equally as beautiful.
You pushed that thought away. It was strange to think that way about your bossâ variant, much less your boss himself. You admit heâs handsomeâthe two of themâ and you could also tell that they knew that.
âHad enough staring?â He asked when you turn away to shake off your thoughts. If you didnât know any better, itâd sound like he was teasing you.
âHave you?â You shot back. âI saw you staring too.â
âI was.â Miguel answered simply. He placed a screwdriver down, popping open the screen and examining it further. âSorry about that. YouâŠremind me of someone.â
The air had felt heavier. You had a gut feeling and you decided to see if you were right. âDid you know another me?â
Miguel nods, not looking up. âMy own you, she passed,â He picks apart the device carefully, making sure to not damage it further. âSeeing you and sensing youâŠI was convinced you were some villain trying to haunt me. But I know now that itâs not true.â He says with little to no emotion. Maybe he was just hiding it under a facade. It wouldnât be the first time you were on that end.
âIâm sorry,â You tried to apologize but he stood up, taking a piece of your watch with him.
âNothingâs really damaged other than the screen. It shouldnât be a problem to fix.â He says softly, and turns away to another side of the room. You purse your lips, deciding whether or not to play into his bad habits of closing off when he just opened up. You decided the former and asked another question.
âHow long will it take?â
He pauses. âDo you hate it here already?â
âWhat?! No. No, of course not! I mean, I can't hate what I donât know. Not to say I donât know you. I know a Miguel just maybe youâre different. Which isnât a bad thing but itâs just I canât overstayâI need to go home because that would be invading your space.â
Miguel looks over at you and the corners of his lips are turned up. âI was joking.â
You stop your rambling and frown at him. âYour humor is bland.â Miguel laughs through his nose and shakes his head.
âYouâre still the sameâŠâ He murmurs to himself. He shrugs off that thought, thinking it was disrespectful to the you that he once knew.
âIt wonât take long,â He speaks to you. âI donât have the exact materials as this but itâs still possible to make them. It should take a couple days. Maybe a little more or less a week.â He pulls up a holographic monitor and touches across the screen.
A week, you thought to yourself, at best. Miguel took another look around the damaged screen heâd plucked off your watch.
âDid I make this?â He looked over at you and you instinctively sat up straighter. âThe other me.â He clarified.
âWell, yeah,â You shrugged on one side. âMade the blueprint and had Lyla help make it.â
âLyla?â He hummed with a raise of his eyebrows. âHm.â His jaw clenched, feeling a tinge of envy for his counterpart. He did dimensional travel and he had you around? It wasnât fair. With a click of his tongue, he placed the screen back down and moved away from the table, opting out to type things you couldnât see on another monitor.
You felt awkward sitting there with nothing to do so you stood up and looked around, keeping a respectful distance from Miguel and his things. You didnât notice the way he stopped typing and admired you through the reflection of his monitor.
Same curve of your nose, shape of your jaw, same way your eyelashes fluttered. Miguel wished you were a ghost in that moment, maybe then he wouldnât feel that agonizing itch to hold you again. âDo youâŠwant a change of clothes?â He asked you, pulling you out of your bubble. âI have some of her things still here, lying around.â He offered, trying to appear nonchalant. You looked down at your spider suit. It was a bit dirtied from being thrown around so you could use a pair of comfortable clothes.
âYeah. I mean, I donât want to ruin her things or anything.â
Miguel shook his head and made his way out, ushering you to follow him. âI insist. Iâd rather her things be used than lying around anyway.â You two had walked into his bedroom again. He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out some shirt and sweatpants. He held onto them a little longer before inhaling and passing them to you.
You looked at the clothes, noting how he looked at them âI really donât have to wear themââ
âPlease.â Miguel insisted. You blinked once and licked your lips, giving him time to make sure before you took it in your hands. You held it close to your chest.
âBathroom?â You asked. He pointed down the hall and you followed, closing the door behind you and leaving Miguel alone with his thoughts. He rummaged through his drawer to find his own set of comfortable clothes outside his suit. He thought to himself, thinking about you and trying to find any differences. Your nose bridge was different but the tip of it was the same. Your hair texture was the same but you had a slightly different hue.
He didnât know whether or not he wanted to help you. On one hand, you were the ghost of his pastâthe figure that taunted him of his failures as Miguel and as Spider-Man. But on the other hand, he missed you. All he ever wanted was to see you again and he wanted to selfishly keep seeing you. He sat at the edge of his bed, battling with his inner thoughts until he heard you come back.
Miguel looked up and got the wind knocked out of his chest. They fit you perfectly like you bought these yourself. You smiled awkwardly at him, thinking it was weird for him to see you in his dead girlfriend's clothes but he just nodded.
âLooks like it fits.â He choked out.
âThey do. Thanks, again.â You smiled wearily. One week. Heâd enjoy you for one week and maybeâjust maybeâ ask if you can come back.
Miguel didn't like the fact you offered to stay in his penthouse while he did his Spider-Man duties. Even more so when he knew you didnât like sitting still either and only offered out of politeness. He guessed that if you were anything like him now, a being with super powers, it meant you also felt a responsibility to do something and help people. So, he invited you to join his patrols.
You declined at first. âIâve already crashed your universeââ
âWould it kill you to just join me without being so high and mighty?â He asked with a pointed look knowing you were too nice for your own good even in his universe. You sighed through your nose and reluctantly agreed, still feeling awkward around him despite his not so stubble attempts to make you comfortable. Which was strange considering your initial hostile encounter.
For the next few days, it seemed patrolling was a nice bonding time for you two. Surprisingly, you worked well together like he knew just how you worked and acted accordingly. He knew once you spotted a small crime going on, heâd let you get the first punch in since you were a bit competitive. While swinging, he figured out you liked to hang in the air for a moment longer before using your webs again ao he swung at a distance while you could do your flips and jumps. For the entire week, you had forgotten you were technically stranded here but that fact didnât seem to bother you.
Along with that, Miguel worked on fixing your watch, creating a small wristband that would delay your glitching while he took the device. Eventually, he did fix it and turned it brand new again. You were incredibly grateful and he just smiled softly at you through his shaded glasses. You slipped it on and was prepared to head home when he stopped you and asked if youâd like to go on a final patrol with him. You fiddled with your watch, debating but you did feel a small part of you not wanting to leave him, strangely enough. So, you went.
It had been late by the time you came back to his penthouse, opting to crawl through the window of his bedroom. The night was hotter than expected, both of you leaning on the wall to catch your breaths after ripping off your masks.
âMade sure no one followed?â You asked with a heavy sigh. Miguel propped himself off the wall and leaned over to glance outside the window beside you, his hand placed next to your head and his hand subconsciously held your hip, making you freeze. He didnât seem to notice even as you stared shamelessly up at him. Miguelâs eyes were focused and sharp, a stark contrast to the way he squinted under his sunglasses during the daytime. His arm by your head flexed as he moved to keep himself steady but the hand on your hip was warm and comforting that left your heart fluttering. Sure, he was handsomeâbut you couldnât, right? Right?
Miguelâs eyes found yours again and for a moment was confused why you seemed so stiff. You looked up at him with beady and bashful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He instinctively looked down at your lips and back to your eyes, his hand moving up to your waist. He hunched over you, caging you to the wall and making you feel the heat radiating off his body. You stared straight even as he closed in on you by your ear, your heart pounding in your chest and down to your abdomen.
âIf you want me to stop, Iâll stop.â He whispered by your ear, his thumbs by your waist caressed your hip bone, a subtle reminder of his sweetness underneath his rough exterior. Despite the short time spent together, he was sure you felt something for him after basically living with him. He was still at a distance but with your lack of reply, he took that as an answer and took a step back away from you.
Before he could, you grabbed onto his arms, keeping him in place and close to you. âNo,â You said quickly. âNo, donât stop. Please.â You whispered, your heart hammering inside your chest.
Miguel came back to you, his arms securing himself around you, his own heartbeat increasing in speed. âAre you sure?â He asked softly.
You nodded. âPlease.â You whispered again. Miguel took one arm off your waist to cup your cheek and tilt it up to face him. You felt heat crawl up to your cheeks meanwhile Miguel looked like he was about to take a bite of the forbidden fruit that was you. He was entranced and a little needy and eager to feel your lips on his again. Despite you being a different version of the one he knewâit was still you. Down to your hair, eyes and lips. Even the way your nose would scrunch in disgust and the way you walked and fiddled with your fingers. It was all still you. He wasnât going to lose his chance.
So he kissed you.
He kissed you like a man starved, practically bending your back as he curled himself on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to gain some stability while he pulled you close enough for you to go on your tiptoes. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and his hand left your cheek to bend slightly to pick you up. You got the hint and wrapped your legs around him and Miguel pressed you up against the wall. His growing erection grinding slowly on your clothed heat, making the two of you moan.
Your fingers curled into his fiery hair just the way he liked and his hands grabbed at every piece of flesh he could squeeze in his palms. Miguelâs lips separated from yours, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until he brought his lips down to your neck. You leaned your head back on the wall while he worked his magic, licking and nipping at your flesh with care due to his fangs. You heard him moan, gripping you tighter as he tasted you and your breathing became heavier.
Miguel lifted you off the wall, hurrying towards his bedroom and plopping your body down on the plush, soft mattress. He took your thighs and separated them to see the wet patch seeping out your spider suit. You felt his talons gently probing your skin and his eyes met yours again as he paused.
You nodded once again and with new vigor, he took one clawed hand and slashed the bottom half of your suit apart along with your panties. You gasped.
âMiguelâŠ!â
âIâll get you ten shocking suits. Just let me have you.â He groaned and delved between your legs. He licked up a stripe and your breath hitched, your hands immediately finding his hair. Miguel felt himself strain in his own suit, bucking his hips pathetically against anything he could find while he ate you out. His tongue probed your entrance and his nose rubbed against your clit that made your arch your back and thrust yourself on his mouth. His fingers joined his mouth in pushing you to your limit, coaxing more moans and whimpers from your pouting lips.
You covered up your mouth with your hand, covering up your face in embarrassment. The sounds of Miguel slurping and licking up your essence made you so much more wet and weak. You squirm underneath his hands and Miguel growls, using his strength to keep your legs in place and apart while he indulges in the taste of you. His eyes are closed, salivating and devouring your juices with every lap of his tongue. His fingers spread your lips open, sliding one finger in and swirling his tongue in your pussy. You clench around his wet muscle and finger, feeling him smirk against you.
Miguel continues to ease his finger inside you, pumping it too slowly for your liking. You whined which made his cock twitch and you pleaded for more. Drunk on your sweetness, he complied and added a second finger, the stretch becoming evident. You arched your back off the bed and you felt Miguel's other hand caress your thigh comfortingly. His moans send vibrations to your clit and grind yourself desperately on him while squealing his name.
âHmmâFuck, Mi-ggyâŠâ You whined, pressing your thighs around his head. You felt Miguel pause for a split second, the nickname youâve given him had gone straight between his legs. He gained more confidence to please you, taking his fingers out to grab your breast and sucking on your clit. The sensation of him forcibly spreading you apart again and the combination of your nipple being tweaked pulled and his tongue made you feel shocks of electricity down your spine. You felt the pit of your abdomen growing with your upcoming climax and you started thrashing around as much as you could with Miguel holding you down.
âMiggy! FuckâDonât stop!â As if he would ever, now that heâs tasted your delectable pussy. He only continued the same pace that had you squirming and chasing you high. His fingers teasing your nipples after every swirl of his tongue and the bubble pops inside you.
You scream his name into the air and grip on the sheets beside you while screwing your eyes shut. You humped on his eager mouth, drinking in whatever you gave him with a satisfied hum. He pressed closer to make sure he could lap up as much as he could but still, drips of you slid down his chin and around his lips. You mewled when the high finished and you were left with a sensitive pussy that he still made sure to clean you up with his mouth.
With hazy eyes, you stared at him still between your legs, watching with a smirk as you collected yourself. Miguel swirled his tongue around his lips to clean himself off and even used his hands to scoop up the parts he couldnât reach to lick it off spotlessly, not a single ounce of your cum going to waste. It made you burn in embarrassment but also gaining a weak pulse to your twitching pussy.
He kneeled over you, drinking in your naked body from the flyaways in your hair to the way your legs shook after just orgasming. His stare was intense and it made you want to hide yourself from just how long heâd been looking at you for. You didnât know it, but Miguel felt a twinge of heartache in his chest. He missed youâthe other you dearlyâ and it felt strange that in a way youâre still here but different. He felt afraid that this mightâve been on impulse. You look like her, sound like her, but yet you havenât experienced things with him like her. The you in front of him was, in a way, a whole different woman.
âMiguel?â You gently pulled him out of his mind. Oh, how your eyes still send his heart racing when he looks at you. Your eyes held concern and worry in them. Was he regretting it? Should you stop? It was the opposite. One look at you and Miguelâs worries had faded.
Itâs still you down to your core. The one he had truly fallen in love with. In every lifetime and in every universe, he was meant to be beside you. He leaned in to nuzzle against the softness of your neck and pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw. âNothing,â He eased your worries. âYouâre just simply gorgeous.â He murmured and you felt a blush crawl up your neck.
Miguel made his way down your neck to your chest where he continued to leave kisses in his wake. His head of red hair curled slightly from the sweat that had built up between the two of you and it tickled you on his way down. Your bashful state was cut short when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and it made you whimper. Your mind had gone up in the clouds once more when he began suckling on the bud, the nerves of it sending signals to your pussy, making you wet again.
Miguel took a moment to rid himself of his own suit and underwear, returning to please your tender breasts. His knee had gone in between your thighs to push one leg away and his hand delved down to rub your swollen clit. His fingers rubbed in small circles that made you melt and lean your head back while his mouth continued its attack on gently biting your now hardened nipples. Your hands ran through his hair which encouraged him further and you both moaned in unison.
Miguel pulled away from your tits, a small smirk on his lips as he saw the bitemark around your bud beginning to form. His hand left your sopping cunt and licked off the sweet nectar that was you with a hum of his voice. The sight left you shivering and he leaned back down to kiss you, making you taste yourself. You mewled as he forced his tongue inside to find yours in a heated dance. Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your chest up which made him groan when he felt your hard nipples graze his skin.
You felt a blunt poke at your entrance and Miguel pulled away just enough for his forehead to be above yours. He looked into your eyes, another check to see if this is what you wantedâwhat you both wanted. You nodded again, firmly this time, and he didnât need another second.
Miguel pushed his fat cockhead between your lips to coat his length before entering it inside you. You winced and Miguel buried himself in your neck, his hand on your hip, caressing you and encouraging you to hold onto him. You wrapped your arms around him as he pushed further inside you, his size being nothing youâve experienced. âI know, I know,â He shushed you, kissing your neck to distract you. âSuch a pretty girl. You can take it, sweetheart.â
You whimpered at his praise, digging your nails in his back that left red crescents behind, a faint click sounding out that neither of you heard when you bumped your hand on his shoulder. âMiguelâŠâ You moaned, spreading your legs further apart while he shook, sliding himself inside you.
Miguel moaned your name back, finally pushing himself to the hilt and his balls slapping your cunt with a wet smack from the combination of your weeping core and his spit. You wiggled your hips at the snug fit and tried to get used to his size but he stopped you, hissing and digging his nails in your flesh to anchor himself from cumming immediately. He kissed your cheeks to ease you while he gently pulled in and out in small strokes.
âMoreâŠ.harderâŠâ You mewled, your walls finally used to his girth and clamping down on his throbbing cock to suck him in deeper. Miguel grabbed your hips and lifted it up with his inhumane strength and began moving, his cock glistening with your slick when he pulled out and hearing it squelch inside your wet cunt when he pushed back in. Your nails scratched at his chest and he grabbed one of your hands to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist.
âYouâre driving me crazy,â Miguel moaned. âThis cuntâs just been waiting to be fucked, huh?â He huffed, slowly gaining speed. When you didnât respond, he slammed into you and made you scream from his tip hitting your sweet spot.
âYes!â You sobbed, feeling his hands push your legs up to your chest and hammered himself in your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him while he pounded into you, hiding yourself in his neck. The bed creaked below you two, sheets shuffling from the force of Miguel ravaging your body.
Miguel rested his arm above your head and held onto your thigh, making sure you were spread open while he adjusted his position to be more comfortable while pistoning his throbbing cock. He let out small grunts and moans, nipping at your neck and being careful with his fangs. With his dick hitting a different spot, you wrapped your legs around his waist to push him deeper. It seemed like even with him stretching your walls and splitting you apart, it was never enoughâyou wanted more. In the pit of your stomach, you knew you needed to have something more.
His fucking was still mind-blowing, his talons gently poking your plush thighs and balls slapping rhythmically to the sounds of your whimpers and cries, which he adored. âSo pretty, you sing so pretty for me,â He murmured, choking on his own pleasure as he felt you gushing around him just from the sheer ecstasy that coursed through your veins. âSo tight and so warmâoh, godââ He groaned, picking up pace that had you squealing and clenching around him. âLemme fill this pretty pussy, hm? Can I? Hm?â He moaned, trailing his wet lips down your chest to latch onto your nippled again, His tongue flicking the perky nub and pulling it between his teeth.
âYes, yes, yesâGod, yesâplease!â You wailed, your hands scratching his shoulder blades and digging into his skin for purchase while you bucked in time with his thrusting. You eyes rolled back then closing them to focus on the way his cockhead was slamming into your sweet spot at just the pace you liked. You felt Miguel suck on your nipple, switching to the other side to give it equal amounts of attention. You shuttered and cried his name, finally feeling the dam break inside you. âMiguel!â Your vision going white and the euphoria of it washing over your body while you felt your pussy cum all over his length and squeezing him.
Miguel let out a guttural groan deep from his throat when he felt you cum and clamp around him. Your cum slicked his cock and pelvis, and he then went faster to reach his own orgasm. You thrashed under him, feeling incredibly sensitive while he kept slapping against your pussy and pounding inside your walls. You moaned that you were just too sensitive, tears collecting at your eyes from overstimulation. He let go of your nipple and kissed you quickly to stop your whining.
He lifted his head to watch you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping onto him tightly and whimpering. His eyes were bewitched with the scene of your tits bouncing, bite marks littered across the plump flesh. His eyes scanning down to see your slick making a mess between your legs after cumming, the way small strings connected to his person. But the sight of his massive cock sliding easily inside your pussy, your folds welcoming him by wrapping around himâhe snapped from within and came hard.
Miguel quickly grabbed the sheets so his talons could rip through them instead of you, his body curling as he let out a final groan and his cock spurted his seed in you. He continued to pump his load, feeling his cock soften and twitch out the rest of himself in strings of salty cumâa white ring forming on the base of his dick.
He huffed, shaking as he made sure all of his cum stayed inside you. When he pulled out, a small white string connected from his tip to your pussy, slipping apart when he was far away enough. He watched the mess between your legs for a moment, breathing heavily as his seed oozed out of your folds and his heart began to beat a little bit faster.
Miguel carefully lifted himself off the bed to go to the bathroom and returned with a towel to clean between your legs. He carefully wiped your clean, being extra careful around your abused pussy. He watched you to make sure you werenât in any discomfort, but you nearly fell asleep with how gentle he was. Miguel tossed the soiled towel into his hamper and slid back into bed with you. He brought you into his chest while he laid on his back, and he brought his covers up to your chin. You wrapped yourself around him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly.
For a while, neither of you spoke, a strange comforting silence in the air. That is, until Miguel broke it.
âMiggy?â He asked. You grunted, still half-asleep and barely conscious.
âSorry.â You mumbled, thinking it was rude of you to call him something so casually. Miguel huffed and looked down at you, his other hand petting your hair back.
âNo, no. I didnât mind. It was cute,â He smiled even if you couldnât see it. âDo youâŠthink you could stay?â He asked hesitantly.
His question made you wake up, the tone had gone a little serious but you knew what he meant. âI canât,â You whispered and you felt his chest deflate. You felt horrible but you knew better than to stay in a dimension that wasnât yours. âButâŠmaybe I could come back?â You offered.
Miguel stiffened and you heard his heart beating faster. âReally?â You nodded and snuggled against his chest.
âI canât stay but itâs not against the rules to visit other dimensions.â
Miguel scoffed at the mention of rules but if he got to see you again then thatâs all that matters. âWill you go in the morning?â He asked, hoping youâd say no.
âI think Iâll stay a while.â You murmured sleepily and Miguel grinned to himself, letting you sleep peacefully in his arms.
While you had fallen asleep in the comforting arms of your bossâ variant, you failed to notice the shutter of your watch clicking off from a call.
Miguel OâHara, leader of the Spider Society and the one who had been looking for you all this time, was sitting alone in his office panting heavily. Sweat accumulated on his forehead and thighs, a hue of crimson across his cheeks as he let go of his softening cock. Splatters of his cum, drenched his hand and desk and he groaned realizing what he had done.
He hadnât meant to spy on you and your intimacy with whoever you wanted. He wasnât expecting to hear from you after losing you on a mission, much less moaning his name. At first, he was relieved that you were alive and was about to speak until you squealed his name so sweetly. Miguel froze, wondering if you somehow got home and didnât tell him. Whatever you did on your time was yours, but you were calling out to him. Eventually he learned it wasnât him, but a different version. He debated whether to click out or not but some sick and twisted emotion inside him reveled in the way you begged and writhed underneath his variant.
Miguel had phased his hardening cock out of his suit and began pumping it slowly in time with his variants thrusts. He focused solely on you rather than the man that looked nothing like him. Another sick thought in his head wished his variant looked more like him, so he could imagine himself fucking you properly. Miguel made sure he was muted as he grunted and cursed under his breath, muttering praises to you in Spanish he knew you couldnât hear. He made sure to edge himself, wanting to cum when he heard you scream his name. He bursted a fat load onto himself and the desk as you cried out your orgasm, watching you throw your head back and clutch onto his variant while you shook violently around his cock.
He grit his teeth, jealousy brewing in his heart at how hard you came. He could do better.
Once his mind had cleared up, he blushed heavily, shame overcoming his previous desires and covered his face. Despite being alone, he felt someone watchingâwhich was hypocritical given what he had done. Before he ended the call, he traced your coordinates to find where you had been stranded all this time. Tomorrow, heâd find you and get you back.
A/N: i'm a proud lover of all versions of miguel !!!!!
please be patient for part 2 đ
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Iâm not mad that I have daddy issues now
imagine a daddy issues reader who loves getting praised by men!
you hated the fact you practically craved male validation every second in your life. it was annoying but it did come with its advantages, especially when you joined task force 141. you were practically surrounded by men everyday, but your personal favourites were, kyle 'gaz' garrick, captain john price, johnny 'soap' mactavish and simon 'ghost riley'. oh how much you loved it when they praised you, shoots right down your core.
one day you made your captain a nice coffee since he asked so politely and he gave you a lil "thank ya' swee'heart." in return. it quite literally made your whole day.
as for simon he's more of a silent person when it comes to praising you. if you do well on a mission, he'll give you a nod or maybe a "you did good today, sergant." and it makes you wanna jump and down in joy.
again if you do well on a mission johnny and kyle are the more energetic praisers. johnny will most likely ruffle your hair (or if your like me and have 4c hair đ) he'll cup your cheeks and say "did s'good, princess." and kyle will be right behind him nodding in agreement, "did amazin', love." and it makes you wanna pass out from happiness!
but really to be fair, they all come in an agreement to say they love praising you. especially when you get on your knees and bop your head up and down your captains length, they all just sit there and watch as you struggle to take him, letting out a series of gags, moans and whines and they all praise you for doing so...why wouldn't they? taking his cock so good...they can't help but resist.
"look at yer' princess, takin' cap'ins cock s'well..."
"fuck...your tongue feels amazin'. oh right there...yeah, good fuckin' girl..."
"such a good doll for us ain't ya', love?"
john grips your hair and gently starts to fuck your throat, slow but rough thrusts.
eventually john groans and cums deep inside of your throat. you gag a bit but swallow and the tight grip of his hand in your hair is used to lift you off his cock, leaving the four of them to see drool and cum leak onto your chin.
"messy girl..."
*â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ
disappointed, but not disappointed with this? idk đ€Šđżââïž
wanna know more about me â> here
masterlist â> here
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