✩

you turn in the mirror, uncomfortable with what you see in the reflection. you're chubby, that was a fact that you wore proudly. you've always loved your body, never thought it was something you needed to change or be ashamed of, until now. you feel gross in this set, the lace not fitting right and not flattering your curves the way you hoped. you try on the next few sets, feeling worse and worse each time.

you're on the verge of tears when you try on the last set, a pretty red mesh one with a bow right between your breasts. you look at yourself and feel nothing but disgust, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you frustratedly tug at the material around your body. you hated feeling like this, like your body was less than it was, but gosh, you couldn't help it.

maybe it was the way your flesh peeked from the fabric, maybe it was the way your rolls showed themselves on the sides of the set, but either way, you hated what you were looking at. you hated it.

a knock on the dressing room door has you jolting in surprise, whipping your head around to stare wide-eyed at the closed door. "honey?" miguel's deep voice calls from the other side. you don't respond, and miguel, concerned by your lack of response, knocks once again.

"you in there, cariño? it's been a while, is everything alright?" miguel asks. when he doesn't receive an answer again, he starts to push the door open. "is it okay if i step in? i wanted to see how you looked". you can hear the smile in his voice and you panicked. god, you hated the mall sometimes. the doors don't close properly ever.

"wait!" you say, voice shaky. you clear your throat and try again, "don't come in." you're a mess right now and the last thing you want is for miguel to see you like this. "why not?" miguel says, clearly confused. his hand rests against the door as he respects your wishes and waits for your reply,

"is everything okay, honey? did you rip that one with the strings?" he lets out a deep chuckle. "that one looked like it would be difficult to put on anyway, mama. let's just leave it there and run out, yeah?" he attempts to joke and it pull a quiet giggle out of your mouth.

"no— it's not that. i'm okay, baby, really. i just…" you trail off and glance at the mirror again, the insecurities you're feeling rushing back at full force, "i don't like it". you're not lying, you don't like any of the sets. they made you feel like shit.

"the strings?" miguel asks dorkily and you smile sadly at the mirror. even when you felt horrible, he knew how to make you feel better. "no, baby, not the strings." you take a deep breath. "i just don't like the way i look in these sets, that's all." you finally conceded, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

you knew miguel was persistent, though, and you wouldn't be surprised if he tried to get you to tell him exactly why you didn't like how you looked.

you didn't hear anything for a few moments and you started to hope that miguel had given up and left, but then, you hear the door handle shake and watched it twisting open in a panic. "no, wait! miguel—"

the door swings open, miguel's big body blocking the entrance. your hand falters at the failed attempt to keep the door closed and you shamefully take a step back, turning your body away from him and crossing your arms over your chest.

"cariño", miguel steps in and closes the door behind him. he walks closer and gently grasps your hips, moving you so that your back is facing the mirror and your front is pressed up against his body. "tell me what's wrong, why are those beautiful eyes of yours crying, hm?" his large hands move up your back, resting at the base of your neck and stroking the nape.

"do you not like the color? the patterns?" his eyes rake over your body. "because i think they're all very pretty".

you bite the inside of your cheek and avert your gaze, not wanting to face him. "nothing at all like that, they're all beautiful". you admit. you can feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, waiting patiently for a real answer, but you stay quiet.

"then, enlighten me for a moment", miguel starts, taking one of his hands from the back of your neck and using it to tilt your chin up. "what is it about these outfits that you don't like?"

"because, miguel," you huff out and push at his chest lightly. "they don't look good on me, okay? they just make me feel… not good. like i'm— ugh, like they just don't look good on my body." you admit, a tear falling down your face.

the sight of it breaks miguel's heart and he wipes it away with his thumb. "oh, my love," he says. he kisses your cheek. "what makes you think they don't look good on you, mama?"

"they just… don't. i'm not saying they aren't cute, they're just not for my body, i guess". you shrug and try to turn away from him again, but miguel doesn't let you.

"how could you say that about such a gorgeous body, hm?" he says, hands slowly making their way down your body. "you look stunning, cariño. borderline irresistible, and you don't like them?" miguel clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disbelief. "you have to be crazy".

you scoff, rolling your eyes. "yeah, right." you make eye contact with him and miguel's heart breaks with how broken you look. "how could you love a body like mine? it's just so— i don't know, not sexy".

you move to turn around and slip the lingerie off your body, but miguel grips your hips again, holding you in place. "look at me", he says. his voice is hard and demanding and you shiver under his grasp. "i want you to see what i see, honey girl, don't push me away." he murmurs and slowly guides your body to turn around.

"keep your eyes on the mirror, understand?" miguel says softly. you nod and keep your eyes trained on the reflection, watching him slowly caress your sides. "good girl." miguel compliments. you can't help the shiver that runs through your body at his words and his smirk widens. he loves having this effect on you.

he slowly moves his hands up and down your sides, taking his time in tracing your curves. "see that, baby?" he says and cups your breasts. "this beautiful, soft body of yours. it's fucking perfect." he squeezes them and leans down to suck a kiss into your neck. "it's made just for me." he murmurs against the skin.

you squirm in his grasp but don't take your eyes off the mirror. miguel pulls away and gives you a stern look, "are you gonna watch or do i have to make you?" he asks. he raises an eyebrow when you don't reply, and you whimper.

"n—no, sir." you stutter out. you're turned on, the feeling of his hands all over you and his dirty words not helping the growing arousal between your legs. miguel nods and returns to touching your body. he slips his hands around your waist, squeezing your love handles before bringing his hands down to cup the bottom of your tummy. he massages the flesh and sucks another hickey onto your neck.

"all of you is breathtaking, my love". he says and moves one of his hands back to the front of your body. "this tummy", he groans, one of his hands moving to squeeze the flesh of your sides. "these curves", his hand moves again, gripping the meaty flesh of your thighs and lifting the leg that isn't on the floor. "these gorgeous fucking thighs." he sighs, shuddering in pleasure as he practically gropes you.

"all of it is gorgeous, 'n' all of it is mine. can't have you talking down on what's mine, can i?" he smirks at you through the mirror. "it's just not right, honey girl."

"no, sir, i'm sorry." you whisper out. miguel smiles sweetly at you through the mirror, leaning down and pressing chaste kisses against your neck. "my sweet girl, there's nothing to apologize for. i know you get lost in that little head of yours". he says, his hands moving back up to squeeze at your breasts. "how can you not think of the way i feel about you, though? i love this body. i'm obsessed with it. would stay home 'n' play with all day if you'd let me, you know i could do it".

you did know. miguel didn't have any problems spending the whole day worshipping your body, playing with it until you were a mess, begging for him to fuck you. his favorite pastime, if he had one, would be spending the whole day in bed, making you cum on his fingers and his tongue. he's done it before, and he'd do it again if you asked.

"m'sorry, miguel." you whimper, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. you didn't know what else to say, all the praises and kind words were getting to you. you can't remember the last time someone made you feel as good as he does.

"don't apologize, baby." miguel murmurs and kisses the side of your head. "you don't have to apologize, jus' let me make you feel better, hm?" he squeezes your breast again, tweaking a nipple and grinning at the small moan that falls from your lips.

"i'll make sure all the nasty things in that head of yours go away, yeah?"

and that's how you ended up being pressed against the wall of the dressing room, miguel's hand over your mouth and his free hand groping every area of your body he can. tears of pleasure prick so prettily at your eyes and miguel revels in the fact that he's the one who caused it.

"this is what you should be crying about." miguel whispers, his lips right by your ear as he presses his hips further into you. he's relentless, his thick cock stretching you out so deliciously while he plays with your body. "should be cryin' about being fucked open on my cock, should be sobbing over how good you feel." he emphasizes his point with a hard thrust and his hands squeeze the flesh of your breasts.

"god, look at you, mi amor." miguel murmurs against your lips. "you look so fucking perfect like this, all fucked out on my cock. 'm so lucky." he presses a quick kiss to your lips and leans back up, a hand gripping your neck and his thumb stroking the underside of your jaw. he turns your face carefully to the mirror, holding you in place.

"watch me", he commands, his freehand moving down to rub tight circles around your clit. "watch me worship this perfect body. watch yourself get fucked open on my cock, and don't take your eyes off of us." his eyes are trained on the mirror, too, a dark lust swirling in them.

you nod, small whimpers and pants escaping your mouth as miguel takes his hand off your mouth. "m—miguel, baby." you whimper and throw your head back. "'m close, please, let me cum." miguel shakes his head and leans down to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. "not yet, baby," he whispers and bites the soft flesh.

"gotta see what i see, 'n' then, i'll let you cum. sound good, honey girl?" he smirks. you whine and shake your head, but you can't help but follow his command.

he's making it hard for you to keep your eyes on the mirror, the way his cock is thrusting into you and the way his thick fingers are playing with your clit have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"look, baby, watch how well you're taking my cock. so perfect, 'n' all mine. look at that beautiful body of yours, taking me so well." miguel groans and kisses along the back of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"that's it, baby. 's what i see when i look at you." he says. he brings his free hand up to rest against your cheek, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. "see how beautiful you look? see how sexy you are? fuck, i can't even put it into words, honey. you're perfect. every single thing about you."

your eyes start to roll into the back of your head again and miguel's hand moves back down to your pussy. "keep your eyes on me, understand? 'm not letting you cum 'till you do." he grunts and slows his thrusts, not wanting this to end just yet.

"please, miguel, i need—"

"i know what you need, baby. i know this body." he whispers and strokes his thumb across your cheek. "just a little longer, honey. you're doing so good." he praises. you do as he says, keeping your eyes on the both of you in the mirror.

you feel yourself starting to cry, and the tears are falling faster now. "that's it, baby." miguel encourages, his fingers starting to work faster against your clit. "there's that beautiful girl. see how stunning you look when you're taking my cock like the good girl you are?" he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, and the tenderness of the action has you breaking out into hushed sobs.

"fuck, miguel." you whine, his lips and his words and his hands making you feel like you're on cloud nine. "thank you, thank you s'much, love you— fuck! love you, love you, love you!" you cry, the feeling of his fingers and his cock driving you insane. you're so close, just one more push and you'd be gone.

"i know, honey. 'm right here. i love you too, you and this body. love every single part of it." he murmurs. his thrusts get harder and his fingers press impossibly deeper, the feeling pushing you over the edge.

"you can cum, honey girl, 'm right here." he says, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels you tighten around him.

you let yourself go, and the feeling of miguel's body surrounding yours and his words have you spiraling into a blissful orgasm. you cry out, slapping your hand over your mouth as your body twitches, and miguel moans lowly in your ear. "there you go, that's it, cariño." he coos. he pulls his hands away from your body and pulls your hips towards his, gripping the plush skin tightly.

he thrusts his hips harder into yours, chasing his own high. "so fucking good, honey, such a perfect body." he praises. he bites your neck and comes inside you, his cum filling your cunt as his hips still against yours. "perfect," he groans out. "all of it, perfect."

the two of you are breathing hard, the air around you feeling hot and humid. miguel's sweaty body is pressed against yours, his softening cock still inside you.

and when he kisses you again, helping you settle on the bench of the dressing room while he assures the worried employee outside that everything's fine, you're left with a new mindset.

you don't mind the lingerie sets that much, they're really pretty and yeah! they do look good on you, real good.

when miguel makes a move to slip the underwear off your body and press his tongue inside you, whispering praises and warnings of silence into your body, you don't have a problem with them anymore.

not at all.

you whine, so prettily, if miguel could put his two cents. of course you could take it! who the hell did miguel think he was? you could take it all— at least you hoped so. the way things were going, however, with miguel making a slight bulge in your stomach, you weren't so sure anymore.

"y'know, i could've been nicer than this", he mutters in your ear, "i mean— i would've liked to be nicer than this. hate bein' the bad guy, you know that". miguel sighed as if you were inconveniencing him and shoved his full length into your cunt. a loud cry escapes your mouth when you feel his tip kissing your cervix, your pussy clenching hard around the man.

miguel groaned at the sensation, his teeth practically bared at you as he moved. "you're just a huge piece of work, aren't you, mama? never listen ta' what i say". miguel's tongue ran over his canine as he looked down on you. his eyes shined with amusement as he watched a milky white ring form at the base of his cock. "oh, baby".

you bit your lip hard, plushy hands reaching up to push at miguel's chest. "wait— pleasepleaseplease, shit! hold on!" you plea to him, feeling the overstimulation spread like a virus throughout your body. your cunt was pulsing hard, almost matching the pace of your racing heartbeat.

instead of taking pity, or even considering your plea, miguel laughs. he laughs and he squeezes the handful of your chub in his hand. just when you think he's trying to comfort you, he uses your love handles as leverage to drag you down deeper on his cock.

"shit, there we go", miguel's hand reaches up to your cheek, "can't enough of this pussy. feels s' fuckin' good, mama". he squeezed your side, his rough hand contrasting with your soft skin. miguel bit his lip in an attempt to keep the loud groans forming in his throat from coming out.

he was so mean to you, miguel. so rough, so animalistic, but in his own little way, he was still so gentle with you. the gentleness was always outweighed by the rough, man-handling, but you didn't mind. you loved that about miguel.

tears were welling up in your eyes now. you try again, to push away miguel just a bit. even in his dazed pleasure, miguel sensed your hand coming, and let go of your chub. he instead took your wrist, stopping you from pushing him away. his eyes caught yours, and gosh, you could almost moan just at how good he looked.

"trynna run away from me?" he questions you. though he already knows the answer, you humor him and rapidly shake your head, small little 'no's!' escaping your mouth along with the action. miguel smirks and gives your pussy harsh thrusts.

"awe, i was hoping you weren't". he taunted you, grinding his pelvis into yours as he lifted you up slightly by your wrist, pressing his lips into your ear. "you're a good girl f'me, yeah? always takin' what i give you?" miguel presses a small kiss to the side of your head, making your heart swell.

the heartwarming feeling quickly dies when you feel him smirk against your cheek. "not like ya' have a choice, huh? gotta take what i give you anyway since you were bein' a brat earlier".

"awe, now that isn't nice, miguel". a coo from your saving grace came from behind you. a comforting hand tilted your head to the side so you could properly make eye contact with peter. he had a warm smile on his face and his eyes were so tender.

"hey, sweetheart. feelin' good?" he questioned you, his tone greatly contrasting miguel's overall roughness. you gave him a broken, tearful smile, nodding to his words.

peter frowned and looked over at miguel with distaste. "miguel", peter hissed in an irritated tone, "look at what you did. made my girl cry". peter's brows furrowed and his eyes flickered from miguel to you. miguel gave him an exaggerated eye roll, which peter ignored. peter sighs and brushes the messy stray hairs away from your face and leans to kiss you softly.

he hums in contentment, and for a moment, you almost completely forget that miguel is there, abusing your poor cunny. in that moment, it was just you and peter sharing a sweet, passionate kiss.

when he pulls away, peter is all smiles. well, when is he not? but this smile was a bit bigger than all his usual ones. "think you've learned your lesson, yeah? no more putting yourself in danger 'n' all that?" peter speaks to you so casually as if he wasn't reaching up to fondle your tits.

gosh, you thought. you'd almost completely forgotten the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. all because you made one slightly stupid to chase after an anomaly on your own. you'd think with the rough treatment miguel gave you, you'd broken canon.

he's so dramatic.

you let out a relaxed sigh and leaned into peter, giving him an assuring nod. peter grinned wider, if that was even possible, and shifted upwards to get miguel's attention.

"hey man, when you're done bein' an aggressive wildebeest, switch with me". peter calls out to the other man. miguel blinks, the trance of being so deep in your pussy breaking. his brows furrow and he clenches his teeth as he looks up at peter.

"wildebeest? really?" miguel questions the other man's audacity. peter ignored the glare miguel was giving him and moved, gently laying you down on the pillow that was always paired with the break room couch.

peter stood up, unbuckling his belt as he shoved miguel's shoulder. miguel removed his hand from your neck to slap peter on his own shoulder, but peter skillfully dodged it. "move", peter pressured, "it's my turn. look at my poor girl, you've been too rough with her".

"your poor girl?" miguel scoffs. peter rolls his eyes. "yes, mine. now move".

you gasped at the loss of contact with miguel, your heartbeat picking up. through your hooded eyes, you see miguel get lightly shoved by peter away from you, and you let out a small giggle.

the noise of your happiness catches peter’s attention and makes him smile. he undoes the buckle on his belt and sighs in contentment when his erection is finally freed from the confines of those painfully uncomfortable boxers of his. peter, the big dork, hums while he aligns his cock to your hole.

you think he'll go easy on you, that he'll be gentle like he always is. the way he caressed your body, his hands gently gliding up and down lured you into a false sense of hope that he'd give you his dick inch by inch, like he always did. because peter, your peter, is a sweetheart.

but your peter is always unpredictable.

peter slams his hips forward. in one hard and swift motion, your cunt is stretched open and pulsing on peter's cock. peter groans loud and broken, his fingers digging into your sides. "shit". he speaks low and dark, and you're sure he's gone now.

his free hand trails down to your pussy and he toys with the cute little bundle of nerves with a shit-eating grin on his face. "look at you", he coos, "such a cute pussy. all for me, right?" peter runs a soft finger over your clit.

with miguel, you know what you're getting into. one look at him and you know you'll get the roughest dick appointment of your life. but with peter, you could never tell. one day, he could make the most passionate, gentle love with you as if you were the most fragile being in the world, but the next day he could—

"my princess is so beautiful, isn't she? god, she is". peter moans, more to your pussy than to you. his cock is going agonizingly slow while his work on your clit was picking up. the sensation from both was too much for your head.

he could be the biggest, rudest, hottest tease in the whole damn multiverse.

"peter", you cried, "please, s-stop teasing". you stammered pathetically. "need you, need your cock so bad". you cry. peter tilts his head, feigning innocence as if he wasn't deep in your stomach. "what do ya' mean, honey? 'm already inside, aren't i?"

"no!" you huff, your reaction surprising peter. your hands wiped away the tears in your pretty eyes and peter swears he feels his cock getting harder inside of you as you look up at him like that. all teary-eyed and desperate. he knows what you want, and wants to give it to you, but he needs to hear you say it.

"no?" peter parrots. "no? what, you want me to pull out?" he asks you in that sickeningly annoying tone of his. you shake your head, a miserable sob racking through your chest. you know he can feel it— the hot juices that ran down your thighs. you know what game he's playing too, and while you would usually push back, you were too desperate.

"please, peter, baby, please". you moaned, shuffling around to push your own hips down on his cock. you looked up at him through your lashes, your pretty eyes still welling with tears. a small wave of pleasure ran through you as you felt peter's thick cock stretch you out just a bit more, causing you to bite your lip.

oh.

it was like a switch flipped in peter. suddenly his hips were moving, faster than they were before. no prep pace before, just fast and focused fucking on peter's part. your cunt feels much hotter and silkier than it did before, and peter hopes you'll forgive him for being so embarrassing.

pat-pat-pat— the sound is loud in your ears. your moans grow louder and louder, your pussy fluttering so tightly around peter. "peter!" you sob, your hand clutching peter's bicep. "g-gonna cum!"

peter hears you and decides to put an end to all the torture you had to endure throughout the night. he nods to your words, in a daze as he chases his own orgasm. "i hear ya', honey". he mutters to you, a broken smile on his face. "g'nna give it to you, just— hold on, yeah?"

peter's cock rubs every inch of the silky walls inside of you, and your body burns. it all happens so quickly, a grip on your side here, a harsh thrust inside you there, and you're exploding.

you cry peter's name, holding a tight grip on miguel's hand, who had offered it to you in your daze. peter lets out a low groan as he finally cums alongside you, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him and the sight of your juices trailing down your thighs making him moan out.

as the high wears out, peter slips out of you very carefully. he helps hoist you up against miguel's chest with a smile. he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, which you gratefully return.

"did so well, honey. always so good to us". peter praises you and feels his heart warm as you smile. you miss the way peter punches miguel in the arm, gesturing to you with a nod. you also miss the way peter cringes at the way miguel gets embarrassed when he rubs your arm up and down.

"you... did great. we'll take you home now. i hope you learned your lesson".

he looked up from your tattoo and locked eyes with you. you looked down at him like he was the most beautiful man in the world. it looked like there were stars in your eyes, ironically. 'well?' you pressed, dragging the 'e' while you waited for his response.

his smile grew as he gently patted your arm. 'i like it, querida. it suits you'. he comments genuinely. you giggled and unconsciously adjusted the wrap on your arm. 'thank you!', you chirped, 'i'm glad you like it! you know, i think this was the least painful tat yet'.

'yeah?' miguel tilted his head at you. he gestured to your stomach with his hand, not necessarily touching you but he was close enough to do so. 'what about your stomach one? thought that didn't hurt you that much'. he remarked as you looked down at his hand.

you shook your head a bit while your brows furrowed, something miguel noticed you did when you heard something shocking or unbelievable. 'this one?' you asked him, lifting up your shirt to show him.

miguel sighed contently when he saw the tattoo on your tummy. it was placed perfectly, on the body parts miguel adored a bit too much. the tattoo started under your breast, trailed all the way down the rolls of your tummy, and stopped right onto the start of your stretch marks. beautiful, he thinks. absolutely breathtaking.

miguel cleared his throat, snapping out of his daze and nodding at your question. you laughed, letting your shirt go to cover your tattoo, much to miguel's dismay. 'no, baby, this one hurt a lot. remember? it took so long to heal'. you exhaled at the memory of the pain.

'never again, miguel. dunno why you let me do that'.

'me? cariño, you insisted on the design'. miguel laughed at your attempt-jab at him. you rolled your eyes. 'only cus you were unhelpful! you say yes to every design!' you chided.

miguel smiled like the dork he is and stood up from his place on your couch, wrapping his hands around your waist and looking down at you.

'that's because you're gorgeous no matter what, my love'. he cooed dreamily. you half-scoffed, trying to hide the way your smile crept up to your eyes. you shoved your hand on his cheek, pushing his face away gently as you looked away.

'you're so corny, o'hara'.

'but you love me so much, right?'

'yeah, yeah, whatever'.

miguel laughed at you as his hands slipped away from your waist. 'i'm sorry, querida'. he looked down into your eyes lovingly. 'so, which one hurt less before your little stars there?'

you hummed at miguel's question, thinking hard. you had quite a lot of tattoos, perks of being the nicest regular at the tattoo shop in your city. you weren't a stranger to the pain, so most of the time, getting tattoos didn't hurt for you. but if you had to choose...

'well', you started, putting your index finger on your chin. 'there is one i can think of. but i don't think i've ever shown you yet'. you thought out loud to miguel, confusing him.

he thought he's seen almost every part of you before. i mean, hello, he was the one who got to see you naked almost every night and day!

'which one is that? thought i had seen all of 'em'. miguel tried to subtly inspect all the open parts of your skin that weren't covered by clothes to see if he had missed a spot. you giggled at his eagerness.

'it's not an old one, honey. i just haven't gotten the chance to show you'. you spoke while you took a step back from him. miguel's brows furrowed while he sat back down on the couch.

'thought you only got one. what else did you get?'

you clicked your tongue and hummed playfully. 'i'll show you! but just wait, okay? i gotta turn around to show you'. you raised your brows playfully. miguel shrugged and leaned on the couch, waiting for you.

you took your sweet time turning around, miguel noticed. you hooked your fingers under the loops of your jeans and tugged them down just a bit. then, you turned around very slowly. like too slow. you were spider woman in this universe for god's sake, why were you turning so slow?

when you finally turned around and lifted your shirt up for miguel again, that's when he understood. he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when he laid his gaze upon your new tattoo.

this one wasn't wrapped in plastic the other one, giving him a full view of what it looked like on you. and god, did he love it.

it was another simple one. cursive words spelled out 'lucky' on your lower back. despite the simple design, miguel was in love.

it was placed so perfectly. right on the chub of your back. your lowrise jeans put the look together, your rolls peeking out from your jeans and your stretchmarks popping out so prettily.

miguel swallowed hard. he could hear the smile in your voice when you asked him what he thought but he couldn't answer. he just stared at your tattoo. one second passed, then two, then three.

until miguel stood up from his place on the couch and stood behind you. you gasped when you felt his chest against your back. you turned your head towards him. 'miguel―'

'can i touch it? please?' he asked you so nicely, it almost killed you when you muttered the words 'no' to his ear. miguel's eyes dropped, frowning. 'no?' he asks you again, and he sounds pained. he wanted nothing more than to get a feel of your new tattoo.

you smiled, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck. you pecked his cheek sympathetically. 'sorry, baby. two weeks is all you have to wait, kay? it needs to heal'. you informed him, patting him on the cheek before letting your arms fall to your sides.

miguel nodded at your words understandingly, though still dazed.

when the healing process was done, he promised himself to have the perfect view of your tattoos. preferably a view that involved your face down on your shared bed, back arched, pussy dripping on his cock, and your tattoo in all its healed glory.

let's imagine the first time he sees you. let's say it's at the spider headquarters. he's doing what he does, brooding and bossing people around, maybe the occasional empanada break here and there, until he's notified by jess that she brought a new recruit in. of course his first reaction was to be annoyed.

she didn't even let him know beforehand, to let someone new in so quickly too? he had to meet them.

his thoughts were negative and annoyed like they usually were when new recruits joined. that is until he saw you, at least.

you were breathtaking, for lack of a better term. you were so small, so much smaller compared to him, but your presence and the way you carried yourself were huge. you walked up to him with your head held high, shoulders back, and eyes sharp.

you made him feel nervous. the way you looked at him made his knees feel weak. your aura had overflowing confidence that could've put pavitr to shame.

and don't even get him started on your looks.

miguel took your appearance in. the rolls that peeked through in your spider suit, your plump lips, the chub of your cheeks, all of it appealed to him so deliciously. where have you been all his life?

'what's her name?' he asked jess, not wanting to make eye contact with you in fear of stuttering or making himself look stupid. jess chuckled, noticing the way miguel stood a good two feet away from you. jess opened her mouth to speak, but you beat her to it.

'i'm right here, y'know? you can just ask me'. you chided with your arms crossed. miguel swallowed, his eyes flickering around from place to place before looking at you and catching your eyes.

'what is... what's your name?' he asked, his voice in a grumble. your brows furrowed at the lack of inviting tone. 'it's (name), (name) (last name). next time ask me instead of being so moody'.

your words seemed to have caught miguel by surprise, as he stopped looking at you and looked away his mouth slightly agape. you took this as a nice victory against the moody man and walked away with jess, who laughed with you about what had just happened.

he didn't say a word. he didn't groan, mumble under his breath, or even snarl. he just watched you leave with jess. he watched the way your hips swayed, he watched the way your rolls moved in your suit, he watched the way your thighs rubbed together. he watched it all.

an arm slung around his shoulder. the soft pink material rubbing against miguel gave him a strong idea that it was his reluctant friend peter. 'she's really something, right? found her myself in earth-189!'

miguel didn't respond right away. he just watched you and the motion of your body as you took a seat next to margo, pointing a soft finger at the monitor the young girl was in front of.

'she's really...', miguel takes a breath, hiding the creeping smile on his lips, 'something special'.

dad's bsf! miguel who can't put a tie on correctly for the life of him. you always get irritated when you see his messy tie before he leaves with your dad for a night of partying. 'you're just like dad!' you tell him. you always tug him down by his tie, your cute chubby hands working on the tie while miguel looked down at you with a smile, ignoring your annoyed grumbles.

dad's bsf! miguel who always insists that your father should go easy on you when you two get into a small fight. 'she's still a baby girl, compa. be easy on her'. he says with kind eyes as he watches you sniffle in the hallway. 'she's twenty one with car payments due, miguel, my god'. despite your father's scolding, you know you can always count on mr. o'hara to comfort you.

dad's bsf! miguel who can't say no to you. his best friend tells him that you're older now, he doesn't need to approve everything you do. miguel tells his best friend that he knows and he'll do better, but he can't help it when you bat your eyelashes so prettily at him and ask him for things in your sweet, honey voice. 'please, mr. o'hara?'

dad's bsf! miguel who spoils you. and i mean spoils you. you want a new phone? you got it, just don't tell your dad. you need a ride to sneak out somewhere? okay, just don't tell your dad. you want that new bathing suit at the mall? sure, just show mister o'hara what it looks like first. that's not weird! he wants to make sure it's a material good enough for you.

dad's bsf! miguel who always scolds you when you wear revealing clothing. 'it's just not appropriate' he tells you as he gazes a bit too long at your tummy sticking out from the cropped long sleeve you were wearing. 'why do you care?' you roll your eyes. the words 'you're not my dad' fly out of your mouth as you shove him aside to leave with your friends. he always watches your hips sway as you walk out.

dad's bsf! miguel who comforts you after a big breakup. fat tears roll down your cheeks as you sobbed in miguel's chest, him holding you up on his lap with a sympathetic look in his eye. 'i loved him s'much!' you cried as you shifted in miguel's lap to hold onto him better. he winces, and you think it's because his leg fell asleep, but you couldn't be more wrong. miguel bumped his leg up 'n' down as he soothed you. 'he's stupid, doesn't know what he's missing out on, niñita'.

dad's bsf! miguel who spends days with you after the fact to make you feel better. he's around every day with the excuse of helping around the house to your father when in reality he sneaks away into your room comforting you and laughing at stupid movies while you were cuddled up against his chest.

dad's bsf! miguel who finds you dancing around on the streets drunk with your friends. you’re crying and laughing at the same time while your friends tried to calm you down, concerning miguel, so he decided to let the other poor girls go home while he dealt with you. he laid a warm, comforting hand on the chub of your thigh as you cried, not knowing how hot it made you feel.

dad's bsf! miguel who gets whiplash when you confess that you like him. like, like him. you're drunk and your words are slurred but he can still make out your shaky-voiced confession of 'always imagined you when he fucked me, mr. o'hara'. even though he felt the same, you were still his best friend's daughter, plus you were drunk. he takes you to his house and tucks you into his bed while he lies awake on his couch contemplating what the hell just happened.

dad's bsf! miguel who wakes up to you in one of his shirts, one he had left out for you the night before. you stood in front of his place on the couch, twiddling your fingers and muttering a small, slightly teary-eyed apology.

dad's bsf! miguel who consoles you with an embrace as you embarrassingly admit everything you said was true. he tells you 'it's okay, little bug' and 'there's nothing to be embarrassed about'. when you cry and tell him that you were sorry and that you know he didn't feel the same, his heart aches a bit. of course he feels the same, don't feel bad! he doesn't know what possesses him to do so, but he leans in and kisses you. it's sweet and short, but you return it.

dad's bsf! miguel who holds you tight while he kisses you, his hips snapping as he drills into your cunt, his eyes shut tight in bliss. 'love you, love you so much, niñita. love you 'n' this pussy'. he muttered into your ear. you sniffled and nodded in a daze as you held him tighter, your breasts pressed up against him. he held your soft sides and groaned as he felt the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

'been wantin' you for so long, little bug. wanting to give mi niña what she deserves'. he sucked in air through his teeth as he felt your soft hand against his cheek. he opened his eyes, making eye contact with you through the small tears in his eyes forming. you gave him a shaky smile, giving him a small peck with a giggle.

the moment was so intimate it made miguel feel warm. he returned the smile and watched as you bit your lip. 'i love you, mr. o'hara'. you whispered to him, your walls tightening around his cock. miguel let out a broken moan, his eyes still focused on you.

'i love you too, little bug'.