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Staying overnight in the office for just one more day.
Miguel could handle it. He put on another pot of coffee and did his rounds, checking over the building and the anomaly cages. He went into the lab to double check everything was locked up and cleaned properly.. and there you were, sleeping with your head laying on the desk and your body limp. Miguel stared for a little bit to make sure it was actually you. If only you were awake, you sweet thing. Miguel came up to your side and stared down at you.
There you were. Gorgeous and everything even when in this exhausted state.
Miguel gave your back a rub, "It's 11 o'clock," Miguel used your name a few times, softly. "Time to wake up, get home, get to bed.. wake up.." Once your eyes actually fluttered open, he resumed his grumpier demeanor and stood up tall, watching you as you stretched and let out a sleepy hum. You had to blink a few times to actually wake up, then you looked at him, "..Miguel?"
Your voice was so sweet and groggy. He gave a faint nod, "It's 11. What're you still doing here?" You didn't answer right away, having to think it over. You fell asleep.. what.. two hours ago? But you had been staying to finish the filing on your recent serum developments.. lame, but needed. "I.. uh.. new serums. Had to get them into a spreadsheet.." You rubbed your nape and stood up, looking up at him. That huge piece of man stared right back down. You wish you could look into his eyes, see what was going on, what he thought of you, everything.
Miguel would always do this. He'd stare at you and leave his face blank just to drive you crazy.
"..what new serums?" Miguel didn't care what serums, if they'd work or not.. he just wanted you to talk more. That pretty little voice saying anything. You're not his, he knows. Miguel has told himself that at least a dozen times, that you're not his. You've got a husband back home who loves you. He cooks for you, he rubs your shoulders when times are tough, and you sleep in his arms. But Miguel doesn't care. He knows his desire for you is immoral and wrong. You're a man with a responsibility.. but he wants you.
"Rapture-centric, mostly," You respond, shrugging a bit. "I'm trying to develop one to help you when you're most vampiric, y'know? To help release more venom and make your bite harder, then help your claws come out easy and sharp." You go on about the little details as he watches you. Sleepy as ever, rubbing your eyes every now and again, and almost yawning a few times.
Once you're done with your little rant, you look back up to his eyes. He's staring at you with almost obvious hunger, just giving a faint nod and affirming your research softly.
"Just serums for me then?" Miguel confirms softly, and you give a nod, "Well.. there's not many other Spider-men like.. you. At least not in Spider-Society." You didn't mean it in a bad way, of course. Miguel was just out of the ordinary. He wasn't the normal red-blue-black Peter Parker quite obviously. He stared at you for longer, words bubbling in his throat that he knew he shouldn't say. He clenched his jaw and moved a little closer,
"Yeah. Not many like me," Miguel agreed in a low voice. Your eyes went up to his then flickered away. You could read him. You knew what he was thinking. You forgot when exactly, but when you and a few other Spideys went to the bar.. Miguel drank and cried to you about Gabriella. You comforted him and tried to whisk away his guilt and make things better.. he ended up seducing you. You didn't know if you were a distraction that night or not.. until he began looking at you a different way, helping you out, talking to you softer, just everything different.
He took a step closer and you immediately tensed.. but you didn't look away. You didn't turn away. You just stared. "Not many like you either," He followed it up with your name, softly, staring at you. The guilt was already weighing you down from the last time you slept with Miguel.. you knew it was wrong to the man you sew your very life to.. but you couldn't help yourself when suddenly your lips were together. You forgot if it was you pulling him in or he leaned in, but if there is something you remember, it's how warm he was. He was so fucking warm.
A hand went into his hair. His thumb rubbed against your hip—you were tense under his arms, even if you didn't realize. His lips pressed on harder. A tongue opened up yours. You let him in, letting out a tiny sigh. His arms brought you in closer. His hips pressed against yours, tilting your head back from how close he was.
It was all a blur. With your eyes closed and your body entirely on fire with guilt and craving, you were left to just feel. Feel how his hands grazed over you, trying to be soft because Miguel knew he broke things so easily. His tongue in your mouth, gently curling against yours and trying to taste you as much as he could. You could feel the tent in his pants too, pressed against your lower belly. He was probably hunchback, just trying to get close to you, but the piece of man was giant. Miguel felt your lack of movement, the fact you let him take control, so he gently pulled away to undo your belt, looking up to your eyes to make sure it was alright.
Miguel was sweet. Even if he was trying to steal you away from your husband, even if he was trying to make you his knowing you were somebody else's, even if he knew this was wrong, Miguel was sweet. Maybe he was saving you, he thought. Maybe he was saving you. From your canon events, the pain of being in your own dimension for too long. Maybe your husband would die one day, as a canon event. Getting you detached was the sweetest thing he could do. Maybe you would suffer being with him. Maybe you didn't feel loved or as sexy as you should feel, maybe you would suffer from his hands, or where they've been on others.
Miguel was being selfish by rationalizing it like this, but he couldn't deny how he wanted you. How it felt like if he didn't have you, he was empty again. No purpose again. No person to look forward to again. He had to have something.
It was selfish of him too, to push this responsibility onto you.
But you were such a pretty thing..
He couldn't help it.
Miguel slipped off your pants until they hit your ankles, and he grasped you by the thighs to place you onto the lab counter. You remembered to push the papers and vials away to have more space, then turned to see Miguel's hologram suit off a specific part of his crotch and him edging himself out of the hole in his boxers. Miguel hissed as he gave a few slow strokes over himself, then shook his head. He looked up to you and brought down your boxers too.
"Pretty," He crooned against your ear, leaning in to kiss your neck. You shivered slightly and leaned into his touch. He was warm.. he felt good. His fingertips were calloused and his body was huge with muscles. Firm and toned, but he used them gently with you. Miguel laid down a few kisses, leaning his head against your shoulders as he sucked you into his mouth gently, "Do you have a condom with you?" It was a stretch. You shook your head no, and he mentally berated himself for not coming prepared. He didn't expect to find you.
"I can pull out," Miguel offered, pulling away to then kiss your forehead and your cheeks, "'Know it's not the safest, but.." I need you was the part he left unfinished out loud.
You gave a faint nod, "Not that fertile, checked with my doctor," You said softly, referring to your side effect from T. Miguel looked up at you, then nodded. If he got you pregnant, he thought, maybe you would have to be his then. Or maybe that would just cause your husband to keep him away from you.
Miguel tried to not think about him as he kissed your lips again, easing your legs open with his hands. There are you.. so pretty. He sighed at the sight, looking at your folds, your clit, your hole sucking in pure air, then looked up to your eyes. You looked back. He could see the guilt in your eyes. If your husband was gone, it would all be better. He hated the thought that stirred in him.
Guiding you by the hips, Miguel edged his dick inside of you, taking it slow to let you adjust. You hissed and grasped his shoulders, feeling the way his holographic suit glitched slightly. You were both practically fully clothed besides his erection and your pants fallen to your ankles.. were your legs already shaking? Yes, but just along with the rest of your body. Of course, it wasn't from pleasure. You were scared. You didn't center yourself enough to find out, closing your eyes and pulling Miguel in closer.
He waited until he was buried in deep, gently brushing hair of your face and watching you. Stop thinking. He could see what you were doing to yourself.
"So pretty," He continued on, kissing down your neck and holding you close by your hips. "You drive me wild, y'know that? So pretty, so pretty.." Miguel's words devolved into Spanish you could half-understand, his hips starting to buck up into yours. You tightened your eyelids closed and buried your face into his neck. Smell him, feel him, it's just Miguel. You and Miguel. He held you closer, moving softly as he continued his compliments,
"So pretty, oh, mi niño precioso, look at how pretty you are.." He kissed your ear and the side of your head, continuing his thrusts inside of you. He heard you let out a little moan, telling him you were ready for him. So he moved harder, faster, holding you close and making sure this fair pace was alright. You moaned and held onto his shoulders tighter, feeling how he slipped in and out of you so easily. You were so slutty. For a man who wasn't even your husband, he didn't even need lube or spit or anything, he moved in and out of you so easily. You felt dirty.
So dirty, because you liked it so much.
You gasped as he drew a finger to your shirt, pressing and rubbing against your nipples from the outside of your shirt. You pulled back, grasping onto the edge of the countertop to keep you up instead. You tilted the back of your head against the overtop cabinets, gasping as that provided perfect leverage to hitting your cervix. "Miguel," You moaned lowly, your cunt sucking him in further. Miguel swallowed a groan and nodded, "I know, handsome boy, I know.."
Look at you. Already a mess. Miguel drank in it, watching as his dick glistened in your juices. Do you know how good your gummy walls feel? Miguel almost feels terrible that he can't have this everyday, as soon as he comes home, after dinner, in the morning, whenever he wants. He'd kill to have you in his bed all day.
Even if you were his househusband, doing nothing but just staying in his home, he'd be more than happy to provide. All to have you be his. The things he'd do to have you forever.. he just wanted you to be his, entirely and wrongly. Was that too much to ask for? To steal you away from your home, from your lover, from your dimension, from whatever responsibilities? Was that so wrong?
In Miguel's craze of thoughts, he forgot his own pace before and found himself tearing into you with his hard thrusts. You were almost screaming, biting onto your bottom lip and gasping for air so you wouldn't alert anybody else on duty—if there even was anybody else on duty. Miguel's hips stuttered, making you shudder, but then he decided to keep up that hard pace. "Th's alright?" You give a frantic nod in response, clawing into the countertop for support,
"Fuck, pretty boy," Miguel let out a half laugh-half grunt, shutting his eyes for a moment to regrip your hips to bring you slamming down with him. You moaned—practically screamed—and shut your lips as tightly as you could, looking up to the ceiling through black dots and lidded eyes. "You clench so tight when I," Miguel gasped and pulled out slowly.. then continued drilling into you, "—so tight when I fuckin' speak.. you're so good for me.. s'good.." Miguel devolved back into his mindless Spanish-English mixed compliments, slurring out words that made half-to-no sense as he savored your cunt. Your body was all his. For one fucking moment, you could both forget what your other responsibilities were. You could forget the guilt of your husband, at home and waiting for you with a warm meal, and Miguel could forget how it would always be one-sided pining for you.
This was why he always came back to you.
You drove him out of his mind.
Your walls sucked him in closer, a whimper escaping your lips, "Miguel," You interrupted his slurred speech of your wonderful fucking hole, "I— I'm so," You gasped, "So close, I—" You almost pouted out a moan, your head dipping back down as your posture became poor, cunt throbbing for more attention. Your clit was swollen and throbbing; he took in the sight greedily as he fucked you sloppy. Look at you, dripping and everything. Feeling his gut clench, Miguel stood still and stopped thrusting into you.
As much as he loved seeing your hole suck him in deliciously and your screaming moans barely being kept down low, he didn't want you to come right away. He wanted to savor you as long as he could, stretch out this night. Let him have for a little longer?
Not knowing why, you whimper out, pussy clenching around his cock so deliciously he had to hold himself back from filling you up. "Miguel, why d-did you.. why—" You swallowed your uneven breath, "Why'd you stop?" You were so close to coming on him, and there was nothing you wanted more than to feel that sweet release.
Miguel spoke lowly, "I wanted to see how desperate you could get, sweetness." He kissed your neck and called you cariño and a few other sweet words before pulling back and smiling. "You look so.." Pathetic, stupid, adorable, pouty, *mine*. His mind thought of so many words to finish that trailed off sentence.
"Miguel, you're so.." You gave out a slight whine, tilting your head back against the cabinets, catching your breath. You could feel your chest heaving, the sweat making your clothes stick to your skin, his fully erect dick still inside of you. The sudden consciousness of not being railed half to death made you want to sock him. "..such a bad boss."
Miguel laughed and nodded, "Sí, sí, I knew that the second I started fucking my little Scientist Spidey." You opened up your mouth to argue with the fact you were technically not a Spidey—which he already knew—but then he began thrusting in you again. So slowly, but immediately your bottom lip quivered and your sentence died out. You cooed softly, nails rubbing against the countertop as your body shuddered delightfully.
How can you tell him you're not Miguel's and then act so entirely his?
You're not being fair. This isn't fair to him, especially not a man like him. He gripped your hips harder, pulling you onto the very edge of the counter, and fucking you by rolling his hips up. You gasped and grabbed his forearm, scratching into it as he moved faster. You moaned through your bitten lip and looked down. Miguel grinned, "What do we say?" When you didn't respond—eyelids fluttering and cunt clenching him so needily—he used your name softly and kissed your forehead.
"Thank you," You croaked, trying to move your hips with his, "Thank you, t-thank— oh—fucking, Miguel..!" You cried out and grabbed onto his forearm tighter. You were his. You don't know it, but you were his. Does your husband ever see you so needy like this? Gasping and eyes rolling back then finding his face, then squeezing shut? Does he feel you soaking, slurping him up like he's food for a starving man? Or is it just Miguel that you act like this for?
"Thanks," You continued to slur out, eyes squinty as you whimpered. He went hard as he did before, slamming you down with him as you moaned and screamed out incoherent words. They roughly translated to: "Miguel! You're so good! Good— you're good— oh, your dick— love you, Miguel, so— love your dick" and a bit of other nonsense.
Miguel licked his lips, grunting as he lost himself. You couldn't stop sucking him in. You were so fucking warm, so warm, he could almost forget his own name if it wasn't for your mantra. He could feel you pulsing around him, getting lost in yourself. "Fuck," Miguel groaned. "—fucking good." He wanted to tease you again, make you needy and gasping.. but he wanted to come. He wanted to feel you come on him, see the cum leaking out of you, you filled up with his. No, no, he can't come inside.. but oh..
"Oh, Miguel,"
"Sh, shh, you're gonna make me—"
"F-fuck! W-wait, Miguel, that's so—! Yeah, there, there—" Miguel bit onto his bottom lip, thrusting in deeper as he felt how needy you got. You were rubbing against him, gasping and eyes rolled back, so close. So fucking close, oh, he's hitting you so sweetly, oh f-fuck, oh— oh G-God—
Miguel screwed up his entire body as he felt you scream and convulse, cum leaking out of you as you gasped. Your body was on fire and you couldn't think as you shook and gasped, letting Miguel's hips slow to a stop. He was panting hard, but he hadn't come. As hard as it fucking was.. he didn't come. Probably pre at best, but none of the real thing. He pulled out to his tip, shuddering and keeping his body almost entirely still as he listened to you pant. You watched your chest go up and down, then down to your sweat covered legs, then up to Miguel.
Just when his eyes peeked open, he saw his dick covered in your juices. He savored the sight and pushed in just to hear you shudder, your knees caving in. He pulled out, panting as he grabbed your leg. Shaking. You were shaking for him. Miguel squeezed your thigh as he jerked off, savoring that simple part of you as much as he could. He came easily, letting out a grunt as it dripped on the counter's doors and the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he collected his breath, huffing to himself.
Once he thought he was ready to see you, he looked up. Your eyelids were lidded, looking at his hand that he'd pull away from his throbbing self. He eventually looked up to your eyes. He gave a faint nod, "You can go to the shower room if you need to.. before you go." You gave a faint nod and pulled up your pants, whispering out a 'goodnight' before stumbling out of the laboratory. He watched you as you left and sighed. He was infatuated.
You were so flustered you just ran off, so shy, probably so many conflicting emotions because you just love him..
Or.. contrary to what Miguel liked to think, you ran off because of the guilt. The sloppiness of his pre in you and your own cum having been half dripping out of you into your pants, half still in your cunt and pooling in your boxers. You had a fucking husband at home and you were doing this.
But Miguel wouldn't give you up.
You knew he wouldn't. You were his, gorgeously and deliciously his.