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greengoblinswifey · 2 years

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Green Goblin Headcanons

•He's the cliché hates everyone but you.

•He's cold, and sometimes he can be cold to you but he has a soft spot for you. He doesn't admit it though but deep down, you can see it in his actions.

•He often takes over from Norman to terrorize New York and Spider-Man but in the occasions he doesn't, he does it to spend time with you. To have you to himself.

•Gobby is very possessive. Norman is too but he's next level. If you're at an Oscorp gala and another man even breathes in your direction too hard, his hand is bruising your hips. He'll even pull you in for a rough kiss to prove a point.

•Sometimes he wonders how and why you're still with him considering what he's done. It's not like he'd let you leave anyway but he still wonders.

•As said before, he has a soft spot for you. He may be a psychopath but he's still a bit of a softie. After a long night of crime, if he's wounded or injured in any way, he allows you to take care of him. He wouldn't let anyone else do it.

•After you patch him up, he allows you to cuddle up next to him. He has a hard grip on your body surely to leave a bruise but you don't mind.

•He loves to degrade you. You're his dirty little whore and he's sure to let you know when he's bending you over in a lab.

•He makes sure to tell you his much of a slut you are because you're dripping wet for a criminal, him.

•When you're being a bitch or talking back, his hand wraps around your neck. He gives you a warning look along with the choking that makes your pussy throb.

•He likes fucking you rough. The kind of rough sex that will leave you sore and have Norman apologize when he regains control. The kind of rough sex that will have you sobbing from pleasure, overstimulation and a bit of pain.

•Of course, you have a safeword, one that you don't utter often but as soon as that "green" leaves your tired lips. He immediately stops what he's doing and cups your cheeks. He's running your bath and searching for any bruise he's inflicted on you. Sometimes, he even allows Norman to regain control seeing as he's better at affection.

•Accompanying his degrading kink, he also likes to praise you. On occasion, you'll hear a "such a good fucking girl" or "that's my pretty girl, you're doing so well for me." He likes to let you know you're a good girl and you're doing great.

•He loves to compliment and admire your beauty too.

•Deep down, he's scared you'll leave him even though as already established, he wouldn't let you. It's just the thought of you wanting to leave and trying it that kills him. Why would you want him anyway? Why would you want to stay with a broken, insane, psychopathic criminal like him?l

•But you love him. You don't care what happens out in the streets and what he does, you know your gobby and he'd never hurt you.

•Speaking of hurt, he'd do anything for you. He'd hurt anyone for you. Kill anyone for you. Waiter was mean? He gets a shake down and a pumpkin bomb in the face. You get rejected from a job or fired? He's flying through the place cackling and throwing bombs everywhere.

•He protects you with his life. You are everything to him and he'll be damned if he let anything happen to you. You're a once in a lifetime kind of girl.

•Oh and he has a big cock. We been knew. And he knows how to use it, he knows how to have you gripping the sheets and writhing under him. Norman is great in bed but somehow the goblin is even better.

•His pullout game is strong but sometimes he wants to cum inside you. He loves the feeling and he knows how much you do too.

•Sometimes, he watches you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but in a "how am I so lucky, how is she so beautiful, does she love me for who I am, I need to protect her" kind of way.

•He always thought he was too cold, evil and incapable of love until he met you, you changed him, he's not as ruthless as he was before you and it scares him. "What is this woman doing to me?"

•He loves that you know him well. He finds it hot how you can immediately tell when he takes over even when he pretends to be Norman.

•You're obviously not allowed to go with him on his rampages in the city but one night, you disobeyed him and followed him, and you were so close to being seriously injured or possible dying if it weren't for him swooping in and grabbing you on to his glider.

•He yelled at you, not because he's angry--well he is but more scared and worried. You yell back asking him why it mattered to him and he yelled back "because I love you," there's a short pause, "and I can't let anything happen to you."

•Tears collected in your eyes and you told him that you loved him back. After you're home, he lays you on the bed and kisses you all over and for the first time, you don't fuck, you made love to each other

•He's sweet to you when he wants to be. He's unpredictable, one minute he's all over you, the next he's burying himself in work or some master plan to defeat Spider-Man.

•He wasnt affectionate until he met you, he's changed in some ways for you and he'll do anything to make you happy, even if it's illegal.

A/N: this is my first headcannon posted on my wattpad paulwalkerswidow22 xx

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fqjth · 2 years

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obsession (9)

pairing ➵ norman osborn x reader

summary ➵ a slip of the tongue, regret and guilt. y/n’s actions have consequences, one that she may not be able to remedy this time.

warnings ➵ swearing, that’s about it

words ➵ 1748

other parts ➵ part one, part eight

✾ ✾ ✾

She stood with her head craning upwards, eyes shut as the hot water washed over her. It was a much-need release, the stinging heat almost comforting. Hot steam engulfed her senses, fogging her mind as well as the bathroom. She ran her hands over her forehead and through her hair, pushing the water off her face and down her back.

She had no idea how long she had been in the shower, maybe twenty minutes, maybe longer. Her fingers had started to wrinkle, skin burning from the hot temperature. It didn’t bother her though, as it felt nice compared to the guilt that was plaguing her.

Regret, guilt, the two emotions twisted inside her, making her feel nauseous. She wished she had reacted differently, wished she had taken a moment to clear her head before acting without thinking. It was her most fatal flaw, her inability to think before acting, as it did nothing but hurt the people around her.

His lips connected with her neck, a soft sigh leaving her lips as his hands roamed her body. He was gentle with her, something she didn’t expect from him. After years of hearing his stories of one-night stands, and girlfriends he had spent countless nights with, she would’ve never guessed Harry would be so tender with his touches.

The dress she had been wearing was now bundled up by her waist, her underwear on full display as Harry’s body pressed against hers. She gasped as his hardened cock rubbed against her core through her panties.

Harry dipped his head into the crook of her neck, sighing as he closed his eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry” he huffed, almost laughing as he spoke.

Y/N placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. She pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a rough and sloppy kiss. It was a way for her to shut him up, she didn’t want to think of anything else right now, nothing but the feeling of his skin against hers. Harry kissed her back, as he had done before, believing the kiss was an indication that he had nothing to be sorry for.

Did this make her a bad person? The thought crept into her mind in a flash of red-hot guilt. Maybe it did. No, she knew it did. Using Harry, her best friend, the person who had been there for her when no one else was, the person who forgave her after she did something unforgivable, the son of the man she craved, the man she had fallen in love with, it made her sick that she was doing this. Yet, she didn’t stop.

She squeezed her eyes shut even more in an attempt to block out these thoughts, her face scrunched up in an unattractive way. But Harry didn’t notice, too busy, too distracted by the feeling of his lips against hers.

His lips found their way back to her neck, leaving soft kisses across her skin. Y/N focused on this feeling, blocking out the guilt that had settled safely into the pit of her stomach.

She let herself get lost in the moment, the sensation that was building up inside her. This feels good, she told herself, I can enjoy this. A soft sigh left her lips once more, and Harry used this as an indication to go further, something she needed him to do.

The hand that had been resting firmly on Y/N’s waist had slowly begun to travel down her body, gripping at her thigh once he reached the bare flesh.

“Norman” She moaned. Harry removed himself from the position above her almost instantly. The look of hurt, disdain, anger on his face made Y/N realise what she had just said.

“What did you just say?” Harry asked. Although he knew what had been said, but in his state of shock and anger, he had to ask, to make sure.

“Harry, I..” Y/N stammered, at a loss for words, as if she were trying to think of a good excuse as to why his father's name just left her lips. However, it was enough of an answer.

Harry stood up from the bed in one quick motion, looking down at where Y/N had now sat up on the bed. “Fucking hell” His voice was raised, “Are you fucking kidding me?”. He didn’t know what else to say in that moment, feeling nothing but anger.

Y/N swung her legs off the side of the bed, standing to her feet. “Harry, I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t you dare say you’re fucking sorry!” He cut her off, raising his voice now to point of yelling. “I’m so fucking sick of you apologising. Over and over, when you’re obviously not fucking sorry!” Every use of the word ‘fucking’ made Y/N’s heart hurt, feeling the pain and anger that she had caused him. Tears started to cloud her vision, watching as Harry paced at the end of the bed, collecting his thoughts and his words.

“I really thought you betraying my trust, more than once, was the worst that you could do. But this” He gestured to the bed, “Using me, manipulating the feelings I have for you, to what? To get over him?” He refused to speak his father's name, just the mere thought of the word making him infuriated.

Y/N took a step closer to where he stood, “That’s not what I was doing, that’s not what…“ she couldn’t think of a lie, because that’s what she doing, lying. And Harry knew that. He was getting good at telling when she lying.

Harry took a step back as he spoke, cutting her off once again. “I swear to God, Y/N, if you lie to me one more fucking time” His eyes bored into her, his pointer finger raised as he shook his hand. Y/N swallowed the last thought she had, mouth dry as her mind went blank. She had nothing to say. Harry sighed in frustration, dropping his hand back by his side. “You are a shitty person, Y/N” He lowered his voice, but his tone stayed stern. “And you are you bad fucking friend”.

Misspoken, a Freudian slip is all that it took to shatter what was left of their friendship.

Tears streamed down her face, hidden carefully behind the water from the shower, unnoticed if she hadn’t had bloodshot eyes. Why was she allowed to cry? She asked herself. She was the one who was at fault, she was the one who had once again hurt someone close to her. So why, was she crying? Guilt, maybe? Maybe it was out of pity, maybe in reality she felt sorry for herself. Or maybe, it was because everything Harry said was true.

She was a shitty person, and she was a bad friend. Going back, time and time again to the man she swore, that she promised Harry she would stay away from. Lying constantly, breaking the trust of her closest and dearest friend. Then yes, manipulating his feelings for her to try and forget about the man she loved. Norman.

He was still there, imprinted on her mind like a wine stain. His name, his face, the way he spoke, the way he felt, the way he made her feel. He was impossible to erase, that much she was now sure of. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did, who she hurt, he was still there.

A sob escaped her, too loud to be drowned out by the sound of the shower. But that didn’t matter, there was no one around to hear it. She was all alone once again.

More time passed, and the water began to run cold, indicating it was time to get out and re-join the mess she had caused. Wrapping a towel around her body, she slowly made her way out of the bathroom and through her apartment.

Any sign that Harry had been there was now gone, as if he never existed in her life.

Although she had lived by herself for a year by this point, It had never felt so empty. Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat as she ignored the urge to cry again, walking towards her bedroom and blocking out the sight of a missing person.

It looked different, her bedroom, although nothing had changed since she stood here only an hour prior. It was the feeling it emulated, it was an unpleasant feeling, tainted by what had just happened.

Her eyes scanned the four walls in front of her, looking for nothing but something to ground her. Nothing. Everything felt wrong, out of place. Even her bed, which still sat untouched against the wall, looked foreign. Panic started to settle in, her breathing becoming unsteady and uneven.

Everything felt as if it were moving in slow motion, the world around her feeling as if it were crumbling beneath her. Every movement she took was a struggle, her breathing beginning to hurt with each shallow breath. Getting dressed felt like a chore, as did brushing her hair. The pain was welcoming to her, much like the hot water was, she deserved this feeling.

She couldn’t stand being in her bedroom longer than she needed, instead opting for the living room where she plopped herself down on the sofa where Harry had been sleeping there nights before. The wall in front of her, behind the TV, seemed to fade into nothing as she stared blanking at the white paint. What else was there for her to do but sit in her own suffering.

Her knee bounced as she chewed on her finger, anxiety was settling in. She needed to distract herself, needed to do something, anything.

She reached for the phone that sat next to her on the coffee table, the sound of buttons being pressed being the only thing heard in the empty apartment. She pressed the phone to her ear, still her knee bouncing, still biting her finger.

The phone rang, each ring making her feel uneasy and anxious. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea, she told herself. Yet, she didn’t put the phone down, she didn’t hang up. Instead, she waited, waited until the final sound before the click.

“Hello?” His voice spoke low and rough, as if he had been asleep.

“Can I come over?” She asked, sighing as she closed her eyes, waiting for a response from the man she was so deeply infatuated with.

✾ ✾ ✾

submission box ➵ here

authors note ➵ the long awaited return

i firstly just want to start off by saying i’m sorry. sorry that it took me so long to update this fic, sorry that i have been so m.i.a these past few months. my mental health as declined to a point that it never has, i’m at the lowest i have ever been. however, i am getting help, i’m on new meds and seeing a few doctors to make sure i get out of the shitty state i am in.

secondly, i just want to say thank you. thank you all for your continued support, not just of this story but of me as well. i have received so many messages over these past long months of love and care, people wishing me well and hoping that i am getting better. you don’t have any idea how much all of those mean to me, and how much they brightened my mood whenever i read them. so from the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much. i love you guys so much.

anyways, enough of that sappy shit. i hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it’s a lot shorter than any other chapter in this series. i thought the best way to reintroduce the story was to start to short, but don’t worry, following chapters will be back to the their normal length :)

i’m sure there are only a few left now, and i will be back to updating as regular as i can.

thank you again <3

tags ➵ @druigswh0ree @journeyrose @dazedkrosupreme @politicstanner @sugarbutterbailey @mick-on-mars @blufblucake @irlbeaniebabey @sadclowngorl @nunnihunniedesu-blog @golddenlioness @levoisaah @smilesfromabove @plutobarnes @ellean0r @mclting @wilder-fangirl@mintspidey @lokilover-39 @tobeymaguiresgf @bimboshaggy @mtayl0rr @eleazarkate @my-lady-greensleeves @candylandosborn @gh0stboombox @pomminine @smokeywhalee @moonlightsolo @naerwenia @sillydreampaintersports @fandom-garbage

*tried my best to tag everyone who asked, i’m sorry if i forgot anyone!*

#norman osborn #norman osborn x reader #norman osborn smut #green goblin #green goblin x reader #green goblin smut #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut #willem dafoe #willem dafoe x reader

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random-itmyname · 1 year

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Summary: After the Green goblin’s affections are returned between him and the short scientist, he was very excited. And when they got into bed? He was ecstatic.

Notes :This is my first post on my AO3! I am not super experienced in writing smut (but I’m great at reading it XD)

Mind the tags! If you don’t like something don’t read it!

Hope you enjoy this mini horny!

(PS. This is an AU where Green Goblin is fluffy and has a tail…and a knot.)

Thank you molina_fix for Beta reading this and helping me edit!!

#green goblin smut #tssm otto #tssm otto octavius #green goblin #otto octavius smut #the spectacular spider man

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helpwhatsthis · 10 months

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okay so ppl are making the spiderman ethan edits but why is no one pointing out that scream has the whole fucking spiderverse??

pt. 1 of this post bc I have more!

bc ethan is peter parker

and chad is miles

anika is cindy

mindy is jess

kirby is felicia

I'm gonna make a part two for the pics but someone else pls tell me you see it too??

me when I write a fic abt ethan and chad with a spider-gwen reader??

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spider-stark · 1 year

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Forever Indebted

HARRY OSBORN X READER

Summary - Peter Parker might’ve saved your life, but Harry Osborn owns your heart.

Warnings - mature themes, cheating

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

IT WAS a tale as old as time, an unavoidable fate that had been sealed a millenia ago. In every iteration of the story, the hero gets the girl—and he deserves the girl, does he not?

After all, how else are you meant to repay him? The sung hero saves not only your life, but also your world, and then his only request is the promise of your hand in his; how could you say no? Is it even a choice?

You find yourself indebted to them, your blood running cold at the realization that they hadn’t just saved your life, they had claimed it.

You become bound to them, that hero that liberates you from the shackles of death. You become obligated to love them after they save your body; your flesh, your bones, the mortal husk that encompasses your being.

But what of the one that saves your soul? The one that saves your passion, your vivacity, your charm—the epitome of you?

How do you repay him?

Can you?

“God-I missed you.”

The words washed over you, laced with an intoxicating blend of desperation and adoration. Soft, slender fingers moved towards your face, gingerly brushing a stray hair into place.

He had never let anyone see this side of him before—allowed them to see him look so tender, so breakable—but you were the sole exception to the rule, the only one with the ability to crumble the towering walls he’d built around himself.

“Why do you think I’m here?” You teased him, your arms lazily slung around his neck, a few mere inches being the only thing separating the two of you. “Figured you were probably having withdrawals by now.”

Harry could only watch as a playful grin tugged at your lips, an unfamiliar warmth spreading throughout his chest as he felt your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. You’re right, he thought to himself, too enamored with you to remember how to form words, I couldn’t have gone another day, another hour, another second without you.

Love had been such a strange concept to him, one that still proved to be overwhelming at times. He had been raised differently, taught to take whatever scraps he was given, to lick love off of knives and never complain when his mouth filled with copper. Until you, he had never known love could be so sickeningly sweet, a sensation powerful enough to make his teeth ache.

“How long do we have?” His voice cracked under the pressure of unspoken emotions, a light touch coming to cradle your cheek, studying your face as he held you—he worked to commit every freckle, every line, every curve to memory.

Too often that was all he had of you, a memory of the moments shared behind closed doors, the rest of his time spent yearning for them, dreaming of them, living for them. You had become his lifeline, the sole tether to his sanity; and he became the same for you.

You nuzzled into his hand, eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his skin pressed to yours. He watched as you smiled, the subtle and apologetic kind of smile that always left his stomach feeling taut. “Not long.”

If you had a choice, you would have stayed here with him forever.

You would have locked yourself away in his office and hoped that the walls of Oscorp could serve as an impenetrable fortress. You would have let him lay you down against the cool mahogany of his desk, allowed his body to curve into yours as you turned every aberrant thought you’d ever had about him into reality.

You wanted him to corrupt you, to drain every ounce of purity from your body, until there was nothing good left for Spider-Man to claim.

“It’s okay.” Harry hummed, the lie slipping through his teeth so easily that you almost believed it. The truth was in his eyes, though, the unspoken words having drowned in pools of deep blue: Please, don’t go this time. Stay, stay here for another second, another moment, maybe a day—you could stay forever, if you’d like. “We’ll make the most of it.”

You swallowed roughly, forcing yourself to nod, the only response you could try to offer.

There was no such thing as enough time with Harry. Before him, you had never wished for eternity, unable to bear the thought of spending so long at your captors side. Now you could only dream of an eternity spent by Harry’s side, though you were convinced that even that would be insufficient.

You hadn’t been fortunate enough to be granted such a vast measure of time, though, cursed to have only this.

Moments so excruciatingly short that they made you consider the striking brevity of life, made you wonder what could have been if Spider-Man hadn’t been the one to save you.

I would rather be dead than indebted to him, a private thought you’d never share, an admission that changed nothing of your circumstance. Yet, still, whenever you looked at Harry you knew it to be true; I would rather be dead than spend another moment without your touch.

You had grown to despise Peter, not only for the choice he made, but because you knew that if you only asked, he would let you go. That was the agonizing complexity of the situation; knowing he would give you what you wanted, but being unable to ask, too aware of what he had given for you, what he had sacrificed.

How does one turn away a hero? How do you deny him his only desire?

What a cruel thing it had become, you often thought to yourself, to feel as if you owe someone your life.

But oh, you would sigh, collapsing into Harry’s arms and inhaling the scent of vanilla and bitter coffee, how easy it would be to give that life to him.

He finally drew you from your thoughts, patience wearing thin as his free hand slipped around your waist, effectively pulling you closer to his chest. Your breathing stilled as he neared closer, his lips having missed your mouth in favor of your ear.

The unexpected warmth of his breath sent chills down your spine as spoke, “I want you.”

It was a statement so suggestive in nature, yet having been said so delicately that it urged you to ache for him. Of course he had wanted your body; wanted you in the most carnal ways that you could imagine. But he also wanted more than that—he wanted to leave no part of you untouched, no part unloved.

“I’ll always want you.” He vowed, leaving a trail of faint kisses along your jawline, the tender gesture serving as a silent promise of its own; even if you’re not mine, even if only in private.

His silken lips continued to travel along your face, and once they finally found their home against your own you found yourself wanting to scream to him; But I am! My body, my soul, my very being. I will carve your name into my heart, let your love seep into my skin and flow through my veins because I. Am. Yours.

But you didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. His mouth moved so fervently against your own that you were unable to will yourself to do anything other than sink into the blissful feeling, painfully aware that it wouldn’t last near as long as you’d want it to.

The hand resting on your cheek slid to the base of your neck, holding you in place as the sheer force of his kiss parted your lips, the taste of him on your tongue numbing your senses entirely. You had become addicted to him—the sensation of his hands desperately roaming your body, always seeking new ways to pull you closer; the devout way he uttered your name under his breath, letting it drip from his tongue as if it were the only prayer he could remember.

It was a sensation so pure, so unadulterated and ardent that you wondered how you could ever force yourself to walk away from him. It was true that Peter Parker had been the one to save your life, but you knew that Harry Osborn was the only reason you felt alive.

You tugged at his suit-coat, forcing him to abandon his grip on you in order to shed the unnecessary fabric onto the floor. A low whine was the only sound you could create, a plea for him to keep going, to remove the thin black undershirt that had been beneath it. He only chuckled at your desperation before pulling it over his head and tossing it to the ground as well.

You immediately went for his bare skin, the muscles tensing under the freezing touch, a string of expletives escaping his lips at the unexpected feeling. He wasted little time returning to his previous actions, though, pushing himself into your mouth once again.

The way your body ached for him was so evident, arching into his touch as his hands pushed underneath your top. He fought the urge to mark you, every ounce of his willpower going into not dragging his nails along your spine, into not leaving dark bruises against your hips. Do it, you wanted to tell him, let him know who I really belong to.

Harry pulled back from your kiss, his lungs stinging from a lack of oxygen; but less than a second passed before you had your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him towards your neck with an enticing whimper.

You wanted him to be rough, wanted to feel the sting of his teeth sinking into your neck, your waist, your thighs. You wanted to be covered in him, let him claim every inch of your skin. The sight of you presenting yourself to him, so willing to let him have his way with you, made him want to throw caution to the side. Both of you knew that if he saw the marks then it would raise suspicion. Perhaps, though, that had been the point.

An open-mouthed kiss was placed against your jugular, his canines just barely grazing against you as he worked his way across your neck. “Please.” you begged, the one word having the power to bring him to his knees.

But, before he could act on the mutual desire, an ear-piercing noise sounded throughout the room; your phone vibrating on the other end of his desk. Both of you glanced in its direction, Peter’s name displayed on the cracked screen.

Your time was up.

The realization caused a violent crushing sensation to spread throughout your chest; the only remedy for the pain it caused was the chaste kiss Harry pressed against your temple, a similar feeling having coursed through him.

“I’ll see you soon?” You knew that he couldn’t answer the question, not with certainty, neither of you aware of when you’d be able to sneak off again.

He nodded anyways, his hand straightening your shirt, unbunching the fabric that had been pushed up your waist. “I’ll be waiting.”

You may have owed Peter your life, but there was no denying that Harry owned your heart.

a/n - im not sure if anyone even reads/writes harry osborn stuff anymore, but idc cause i love him.<3 but also the amount of time i’ve spent thinking about this concept is embarrassing. like honestly though, think about it! imagine how difficult it would be to have to turn down a hero, especially if they’ve saved your life. whether it’s intentional or not, there is such an odd power dynamic there and it would be difficult to not feel as if you owed them. trying to deny them would likely feel impossible, even if you were in love with someone else, ya know?? i feel like anyone would start to resent them and lead to them making poor choices. and how freaking fine dane dehaan is, i do not condone cheating. but gosh. dane <3

#harry osborn imagine #tasm harry osborn #harry osborn headcanon #peter parker imagine #harry osborn angst #harry osborn smut #harry osborn x reader #spiderman fanfiction #mcu imagine #andrew!peter imagine #green goblin imagine #harry osborn fluff #spiderman imagine

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graveyard-stray · 3 months

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Graveyard Stray’s X Reader masterlist

(Writers info here)

Below you will find all my fanfics! Click the link above for my writers/request info

Cillian Murphy

🪦~ Cillian

That’s a Wrap // Fluff + Autistic Reader

🪦~ Thomas Shelby

Since you returned // Angst & fluff

Me or her. // Angst to smut to fluff

Cuddling with Thomas Shelby // Fluff slight angst

Tommy NSFW Alphabet // Smut! But of fluff & angst…

🪦~ Johnathan Crane

Stress relief // fluff

🪦~ Jim (TDS)

Girl Nextdoor // Smut

Star Wars

🪦~ Anakin Skywalker

Please stay. // Angst & Fluff

🪦~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

Bedtime Story // Fluff

Criminal Minds

🪦~ Aaron Hotchner

Morning Workout // fluff? Silly

🪦~ Spencer Reid

Without you // angst & fluff

Bandom

🪦~ Gerard Way

Lazy Sunday Morning // fluff

Your Instagram except your dating Gerard way

Marvel

🪦~ Norman Osborne

Five more minutes? // fluff

🪦~ Bucky Barnes

Nightmares // Angst & Fluffy

The Walking Dead

🪦~Carl Grimes

SFW Alphabet // Fluff, angst if you squint

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theaawalker · 4 months

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His Little Lamb [ HARRY OSBORN ]

chapter I. meeting

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Demetra Jones Series: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Song Inspo: Perfect by One Direction Word Count: 1,001 Summary: Demetria Jones is your classic model citizen. Smart, helpful, organized, sophisticated, and above all innocent. But that changes when she gets a new boss, Harry Osborn. She's not looking for trouble, but that might be what she's in for. Unless, maybe, she can change Harry... that is, if he doesn't change her first. Warnings: mentions of family death Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

I thankfully made it to the meeting on time. Taking my seat in the far-off row to the right, I took out my work tools and set them out accordingly on the meeting table. It was so weird being back here after Mr. Osborn's death. Ever since the tragedy we've all taken some time to 'mourn.' But, to be honest, I'd rather much be at my job, working it off, than off partying at a club or sulking at home over my deceased boss.

As the board room started to fill up, I started to get nervous. At any time my new boss could come through the door, and I hate not knowing when. Based on the news, Norman's son, Harry Osborn, will be taking over as CEO of Oscorp. My feelings are still undecided, but I have this ache in my gut that says he's trouble. I spent all night doing research on him, and apparently, his father shipped him to boarding school at eleven and since he's gotten out he's been nothing but a modeling playboy.

If this is true, then I've got my hands full here.

I checked my watch; he was two-minutes late. Everyone else was there but him, even Menken, who would be sitting on his right at the end of the table. I've never been late for anything, so I'm not impressed. Finally, in walked a young man with a brown comb-over, blue eyes that were lit up like reflecting marbles, pointy ears, and pale skin that matched his pink lips. To fit his appearance, he was also acquiring a dark blue suit, grey vest, and a brown tie. As he took his seat at the beginning of the table, I wondered how one guy can pull off so many colors. Then I remembered he was with a model.

This was him, this was Harry Osborn.

"Harry," Menken started once Harry was seated, "OsCorp's been under intense public scrutiny in the wake of Dr. Connor's recent uh... breach of trust."

Harry twirled some kind of drive in his hand as he replied. "You mean people are pissed off cause he tried to turn everyone in New York City into giant lizards."

Menken paused, as if he was about to disagree but changed his mind. "Given that...all the animal hybrid programs he was involved in were destroyed to restore investor confidence."

"Ah, that is the Osborn way." Harry spun his chair to face Menken. "Whatever's inconvenient around, here just get rid of it, right?"

Still, Menken pushed, "Much of that scrutiny may fall on you now. We felt that plausible deniability was your best option."

"Sure, sure. I get it." The young CEO looked at the drive again. "Twenty-year-old kid, two hundred billion-dollar company. What was Dad thinking? I mean, you're all lawyers, right?" He looked around the room, earning awkward looks. "Surely someone must have questioned his sanity in the end." This time he was speaking indirectly to Menken, and everyone knew it. "Someone must have thought about having him declared legally incompetent, it would have made this conversation a lot easier..."

"Harry..." Menken started but was quickly interrupted.

"It's Mr. Osborn." Harry sternly corrected him. "We're not friends." I didn't have to be near them to know they were giving each other hateful looks. I scooted closer to get a better look at their expressions, and, with my entwined fingers, accidentally knock my pen off the table.

'Dang!' I internally said. I slowly lowered my head in a pathetic attempt to cover it up. A cold, lasting ache echoes through my stomach as I feel eyes from all directions fall on me. I hoped they'd be professional and just carry on, but, of course, that wasn't the case.

"Hi," Harry's voice sang. I looked up and there, sitting in the first chair, was my future boss. He stared into my eyes with a smile that only grows when he sees all of my face. I was wearing my glasses, so I could only imagine how nerdy I looked. "You were my father's economic analyst, right?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod.

"What's your name?" He asked, using a not soft but low tone. Almost like a snake talking to its prey.

"Demetria," I replied, refusing to speak back in the same tone.

"Demetria..." he repeated. And what came next, made my heart skip a beat. "From now on, everybody at this table works for Demetria, because Demetria works for me. Would anyone like to speak up?" An uncomfortable silence spread around the board room table. "Well, good. Then you can all keep your jobs a little longer."

Just then, a man, I'm guessing his butler, entered to speak to Harry. They were whispering and were hard to hear from my distance. But by the look on Harry's face, it wasn't something he had expected. I sensed a bit of remorse, and even sadness, in his face.

To mask it, he returned the topic to me. "Demetria, I want to see every file on this list. Every single one." Harry got up and followed the butler out of the room. And just like that, he was gone.

| EARLIER THAT WEEK |

I had had such a rough morning, which is a rare thing for me. Usually, I'm fresh and ready to tackle the day. But today was different, my boss, Norman Osborn, was dead. He was actually my idol growing up. I always saw him as like a king of a castle, and I suppose I was lucky enough to work in it while he was alive.

But now that he's gone, things are gonna be different around Oscorp. There is no doubt in my mind walking through those doors is gonna become a burden in a matter of weeks.

Just as I neared the elevators, and spotted an open one, I bumped into Alistair Smythe the douchebag, making my shoulder bag slip from my grasp and onto the floor. "Watch it, Jonesy!" He scolded. I was quick to pick up the stray papers and skidded to the elevator. "Oh, hold that!" To my surprise, someone holds the elevator doors open for me. "Thank you, you're a gentleman. Most people would have just let the doors close."

"Yeah, well, most people don't notice other people." He said, which I found very true.

"What floor, please?" K.A.R.I, the automated elevator system, requested.

"Um, sixty-three..."

"I got it," said the stranger. "What is it?"

"Uh, sixty-three," I told him, which he repeated to K.A.R.I.

"Thank you," I said once again.

I thought that was gonna be the end of our discussion, but he bickered on. "Um...I'm uh...Max. Max Dillon."

"I'm Demetria. Nice to meet you." I said as our eyes met.

"Nice to meet you." He replied uneasily. I could tell he wasn't used to attention.

"Is it your birthday?" I referred to the flyer in Max's hand.

"Oh, yeah! Well, I...a friend of mine made this flyer. I'm having a birthday party in a big club, a lot of celebrities." It didn't take a trigonometry major to know he was fibbing.

But, out of pity, I played along. "Wow."

"I would like to invite you, it's just that the guest list is closed." I doubted that completely.

"Oh, got it. Well, thank you, anyway." I see Max notices the news on the elevator monitor about Spider-Man saving people from a fire. I'm personally not a big fan, but admire his heroism and watch as well.

"It must be cool, huh?" He commented. "To have the whole world look at you like that. You know, Spider-Man saved my life one time. Out of all the people in the whole city, he saved me." He put a hand to his chest as if honored. "He said he needed me."

"Sounds like a nice guy." I've never met Spider-Man before because I prefer not to get involved with complicated situations. But I doubt I'll need saving anytime soon. I mean, it's not like I'm in danger... at least not anymore.

"Floor sixty-three," K.A.R.I announces just as the elevator stops and the doors open.

"Oh, it was nice to meet you, Max." I give him one last glance before stepping out of the elevator and heading down the hall to the board room.

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hardchoicespod · 9 months

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How good do Spider-Man villains bang?

[We're not talking about hotness. This is only about what they bring to the bedroom]

Norman Osborn is a shit f*ck. FINDOM THIS DOOFUS 🤑🤑🤑 Unless you want to hear that screechy ass Green Goblin voice. You want to hear him tell you hard he's gonna nut in that voice?

2. Doctor Octopus? WHAT A F*CKING ROMANTIC! LOOK AT THAT FACE! Do you not think he brings flowers??? Man has trained each limb to make you scream in a different way.

3. J. Jonah Jameson. Not technically a villain, but like, don't you want to fuck this absolute smug asshole bastard? LEAVE THE CIGAR LIT, BABYEEEEE

4. Venom is the ultimate goo husband and will love you and keep you safe and eat pop-tarts with you at 3am, but also, he got that tooooongue 👅👅👅

5. Mephisto is gonna make you think he's f*cking you and then suddenly, from the mists of this incredible performance of raw sexual power, he appears and then does a comedy 💦 on you because motherf*cker can't resist. Do you want this dude to nut on your tits and then laugh at his own dumbf*ck genius?

6. Rhino is a problem. Look, is the dick trapped in the suit or not? If this is hardcore chastity play, okay. Okay, we can fuck like that Rhino. But don't you want this weirdo to just cut loose and pound you so hard the neighbors call your super? HE IS A FULL TIME FURRY AND ALSO DOES CRIMES! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?! Find out about that dick situation first tho, probably.

You want more lovingly horny takes about these dorks? listen to Hard Choices 26 - Spider-Man and get all the boners you can possibly handle. Episode description? Babe, I got you.

We all know that with great power comes great responsibility. You know what else comes with great power? Us when we think about Spider-Man! It's not just Peter Parker who makes our web-shooters go thwip, either; he's got a huge cast of friends, foes, and supporting characters to suit every taste, from monsterfucks like Venom, to adorable loser fucks like The Shocker, to the jackpot herself, Mary Jane. This episode, your friendly neighborhood MeganBob pushes DEEP into the Spiderverse to find the median, the zenith, and the nadir of its fuckability, all with the help of: The Amazing Annie Craton! The Spectacular James D'Amato! And Dan Mulkerin from an alternate reality where he never lost his Captain Universe powers! IN THIS ISSUE: Dan single-handedly promotes Tombstone from D-tier to Daddy-tier MeganBob discovers the only bad way to listen to "The Cruel Angel's Thesis" Annie lets Carnage's gooey appeal blind her to his, you know, everything else And James finally takes a public stance on whether eating boys is wrong!

Is this podcast safe for work? F*ck no it isn't. Is this going to make you laugh so hard you snort a cheeto? Yeah, probably. Jump to anywhere in the episode for takes that will make you go "Ya'll need god."

Big Sloppy Kisses, Hard Choices 💋🍆

Which spidey character's are your top three f*cks? We won't tell.

#spiderman #across the spiderverse #spiderverse au #spiderverse x reader #podcast #doctor octopus #green goblin #spidey #smut #when you want to fuck norman osborn but know you shouldn't though #But I'd rather fuck Doctor Octopus #Ya'll #kraven the hunter #is the most fuckable villain ever maybe?

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marslikestowrite · 2 years

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Out in the cold.

Norman Osborn x Reader (Pre-Goblin)

Masterlist

NSFW warning, 18+ only

Summary:

Harry Osborn ditches you once again in the middle of a date. This time, you decide enough is enough, and you decide it’s time for the sweet taste of revenge.

Here you are, once again stranded alone outside of the fancy restaurant your fiance Harry Osborn had decided to take you to. He had left once again because he had heard MJ and her boyfriend were having a rough time, and she needed someone to talk to. You wrapped your wool coat around your figure, sighing in content, feeling the soft fabric touch your bare skin. You had worn a nice dress, specifically because he asked you too, and yet he left you once again. You were absolutely over him leaving you for other women. The sound of your heels was loud against the pavement as you stormed down the sidewalk, before flagging down a cab. You needed a breather. You stepped into the cab, and reached into your purse to pull out a crisp hundred dollar bill, courtesy of Harry, and handed it to the driver.

“Osborn Manor please.” Your sweet voice echoed through the cab, trying to be polite to the driver, and not lash out on the poor man.

“Miss, we don’t drive just anyone there-”

“Drive. You wouldn’t like it if my fiance’s father were to hear about this would you? Now be a dear and get moving.” Your voice turned more stern, definitely showing you were serious, and not in the move. The driver just nodded, no longer speaking as he pulled into oncoming traffic. You sighed, glad to finally be sitting down, and no longer standing in those horrendous heels. Your ankles burned. You had decided you were going to head back to the manor, and grab a change of clothes, and stay at a hotel for the night. You were not in the mood to see Harry, and it was the perfect way to calm your anger, and figure out a way to say that you were absolutely done with his antics. You hummed, staring out the window, looking at how gorgeous New York was at night. The way the bright lights of buildings poised the clear sky of its natural beauty. It made you sick.

You finally arrive at the manor, thanking the driver as you gently step out of the cab, trying not to twist an ankle on the curb. You look up at the massive manor, sighing as all you could think of was how urgent your prick of a boyfriend was to run to Mary Jane’s side. You cringed at the thought, digging in your purse to find the key Harry’s father had given you to the manor. Norman had always been kind to you, the moment you met him. Harry had brought you over to meet him for dinner a few years back, and when you met with the CEO, you’d felt different. The feeling indescribable, a mixture of admiration, longing, fright, dare you say love. You always felt different around Norman than you did his son. Not in a bad way of course. You’d always come over after your morning classes while in college, and have tea with him. Those were the moments you looked forward to most. You felt yourself around the older man, you felt loved. He always made you laugh, something his son could rarely do. It was at that moment you thought. Did you love Norman Osborn? You shook the thought, finally finding your keys buried in your purse. The conclusion you had come to did seem accurate with the encounters you had with Norman. He’d always compliment your clothing choices, cook you food when you came over, his shoulders always seemed less tense when you were around, and not to mention the “pet name” he calls you. You insert your key, opening the door before walking in, shutting the door almost immediately. You took off your heels and looked around. It seemed empty. Or that's what you would have thought if the fireplace wasn’t burning, and the sound of padded feet getting louder.

“Y/n? Is that you, dear?” A voice you knew all too well associated that same “pet name” when addressing you.

“Mr. Osborn? Yes, it's me. Sorry if I disturbed you, I know it’s late.” You responded, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up on the nearest hanger. You couldn’t help but notice the look in his eyes change when he saw you. Harry didn’t look at you that way.

“Dear, I told you to call me Norman. Your my son’s fiance, I think we’re past formalities.” He smiled at you, a genuine one at that.

“Speak of him, where is Harry? I expected you both to be out later.” He added. You hesitated to come up with a response. You wanted to tell him what an asshole his son was, and that you were breaking up with him, but didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had with him. Before you could think more, your mouth just spoke.

“I’m not his fiance anymore, Norman.” You said, staring straight at him, letting him know your voice was serious.

“This is the third time he has left me stranded on a date. Third time he left me outside of a restaurant in the freezing cold to run to the aid of another woman. I’m done with his antics, Norman. I’m done being his second choice.” You said honestly. You could feel the tears in your eyes well up as you finally admitted your thoughts.

“I can’t do this anymore- I can’t be- I can’t be thrown out like a piece of trash when Harry’s highschool sweetheart decides she wants to fuck things up!” You felt the tears spill down, as Norman immediately rushed to your aid. His arms gently wrapped around you, his hand pressing against the back of your head, pulling you into a warm hug.

“You are anything but a piece of trash dear, and I’m so sorry my naive son can’t seem to appreciate someone as perfect as you.” He said gently, as you cried into his arms. This embrace. It felt.. Right. It felt like it was meant to happen. All your feelings about the older man resurfaced. You couldn’t ignore them. Norman pulled away from the hug, leaving you feeling alone once again.

“I take it you don’t want to see Harry. I.. I can call you a cab and get you a hotel for the night, while I have a conversation with him when he gets home.” He said, about to walk away, before you reach out to him, grabbing the sleeve of his coat.

“No! Wait. Don’t-“ You said, trying to gather your words. You step closer to him, looking at his eyes, getting lost in them.

“Norman.. What do you think of me?” Your words spilled out like a waterfall. You didn't mean to speak what your mind wanted to. You stood there, muscles tensed, waiting for a response. It took him a moment to figure out what he wanted to say, before he turned around and clasped both of your hands.

“Well.. I think you’re a beautiful young woman, who deserves far more than what my son has given you. I think you’re very intelligent, and have amazing potential..” He trailed off, moving a hand to your cheek. He knew what you were asking. He needed to hear you say that you liked him. The way you were staring at him, and the way your face turned a pink shade when his hand went on your cheek was very obvious to him. He liked you too, but there was an age gap, and he needed to hear you say you loved him, for his own moral compass.

“Do you..” You inched your face closer to the taller man’s, moving your hand from his arm to rest against his chest. His arms moved to wrap around your hips. He nodded his head, knowing exactly the question that you were trying to ask, without the words coming out of your mouth. You initiated it. You moved your face forward, gently pressing your lips against his own, slowly encasing his lips in a passionate kiss. Your eyes closed, entangling your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him as physically close as possible. He pushed you back against the door, nipping at your lip to try to gain access, which you happily gave him. After a few minutes of making out, you pull away, resting your forehead against Norman’s. His rough, calloused hands gripped your hips, a smile resting on his face.

“Harry never kissed me like that.” You giggle, rubbing your fingers against his scalp.

“Well, he’ll never be kissing you again, that’s my job now, my dear.” He chuckled lowly, his hand moving to yours to take off your engagement ring, and tossing it on the floor.

“You won’t be needing that either, I’ll get you a new one that will remind him of what he lost while playing a childish game with someone that doesn’t even come close to comparing to the angel he used to have.” He cooed, making you giggle more, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“So when did you start feeling this way towards me love?” He asked, a curious tone in his voice, as you rested your head against his chest, embracing him in a hug.

“At our tea sessions. You looked at me in a way that Harry never did. Your eyes showed a kindness I never had experienced. You looked like you actually cared when I told you about my studies, my hobbies, you actually cared.” You said gently. It was true, everytime you tried talking to Harry about something that wasn’t science, or him, he seemed uninterested, but Norman had always listened, he always supported you.

“How could I not? You looked so adorable rambling about {your major in college}, I couldn’t help but fall for you either darling.” He smiled. That was also another factor. He smiled at you. A legitimate, genuine, handsome, smile. You loved it so much. You stare back up at him, and he stares back down, a loving look in his eyes once again.

“I know it’s soon but- I’ve been wanting to say it for so long. I love you Norman, so much. I’d like to be your Mrs. Osborn one day, not Harry’s..” There was a certain plea in your voice that drove Norman insane, you were talking like you knew what you were doing to him.

“I love you too, Y/N, and you’re already mine darling. You’ll be a ‘Mrs. Osborn’ one day, I promise that, but after you kissed me, you became mine in that very moment.” He smirked, a sort of growl in his voice that made your legs weak. He leaned down, this time, he initiated the kiss this time, and it was different. It was hungry, heated, intimate, perfect. His tongue slid in once again, claiming every inch as his. His hands moved to rest against your ass, making you squeal softly. A smirk formed on his lips, knowing the influence he had on your noises. He pulled away, leaving your mind blank, and your breath gone. Before you could regain your thoughts, he sweeped you up in his arms, carrying you to his room.

He kicked his door open, before setting you down for a quick moment, only to lock the door, and then back in his arms you were. He sat down on the bed, you in his lap, and his lips were immediately attached to your neck, kissing and nipping on the pulsing, making you squirm. He gripped onto your thighs, growling.

“Keep still love, I need to mark you up. Need to claim you.” He said against your neck, before attacking it once more. Soft moans and whimpers spilled from your mouth, feeling him grow against the inside of your thigh. Once he was done, he pulled back to take a look at the wicked bruise he had left on your neck, as he hummed in content.

“Look at you, all mine.” He said, a satisfied smirk resting on the corner of his lips. You gradually moved your hips against his crotch, whimpering as you could feel the pooling heat between your legs. His breath hitched, his fingers digging crescent moons into your bare thighs.

“I said. Sit. Still.” He growled, flipping your position, laying you flat on your back, a whimper escaping your lips. You reached up to tug at his shirt, trying to tell him to take it off, as he chuckled lowly.

“My, my. So demanding. Fine, only because you look so pretty under me.” He smirked, a blush heating your cheeks at the compliment. He let go of you, sitting up, and slowly, almost teasingly, took off his shirt. You sat up, running your hands along his chest, feeling the crevices and impurities on his skin. He was perfect. He smiled, watching you admire him. Your soft smile made his heart melt, he couldn’t believe he had you all to himself now. He gently laid you back down, starting to move the straps of your dress down, before stopping.

“May I?” He asked gently, wanting to make sure you were completely comfortable, and wanting to continue.

“Please.” Your soft voice echoed in his head, and he continued gently.

“If you ever want to stop, please tell me.” He cooed, moving your straps down, and then pulling off your dress, revealing your black lace bra and panties. He couldn’t help but stare. Your body was perfect, he could see the embarrassment in your eyes. You reached to cover yourself, embarrassed of your figure, but he shook his head, and reached to move both of your hands over your head, he used one hand to hold both of yours up, and the other to unclip your bra. He tossed it to the side, before starting to kiss at your neck gently. Slowly but surely he moved down, peppering wet kisses down your breast valley, on your breasts, down your stomach, before peppering multiple to your stomach.

“You’re gorgeous darling. So beautiful, I’m so blessed to be in the presence of a goddess.” His voice was like a praise, it rang through your ears, played like a tune that had been stuck in your head for days. He made you feel wanted. He slowly moved down your stomach, reaching your clothed core. He gently pulled your panties down, and then tossed them next to your bra. He kissed the inside of your thighs, watching how you writhed in place for him to give you more. He let go of your hands, and they immediately found their way to his hair, pulling gently at the strands, trying to aid him to give you what you longed for. All he did was chuckle against your thigh, before staring straight up your body right into your eyes, as he licked a stripe down the middle of your pussy, teasing, earning a whine from you.

“Look at you, all wet and needy for me. What do you want, baby? I wanna hear you say it.” His lips resting against your folds, his voice sending a vibration throughout your body.

“Wan’ you Norman- Please.. Need you.” You managed to muster out, earning another chuckle from the older man.

“Mm.. If you say so darling..” He said, a slight confidence in his voice, as he pressed his lips right back onto your folds. His mouth worked magic. Pressing his tongue against all the right places in you, his tongue flicking your clit, you were in heaven. Your fingers clasped onto his hair, as moans echoed throughout the room. Your eyes were squeezed shut, Norman making you see stars as he worked his tongue on your pussy. You could feel it. That bubbling sensation pooling inside of your stomach as your walls clenched around his tongue.

“I’m-I’m clo-se-” You stuttered out, but he didn’t stop. He kept eating you like you were his last meal on earth, and he was going to savor it. Your grip tightened on his hair, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer, as you released, his mouth lapping everything up, helping you ride out your orgasm. He pulled away, before leaning over you, and placing another intimate kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and for some reason, it was a major turn on. While you were preoccupied with the kiss, and riding down from your high, Norman had taken off his pants, and boxers. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m going to put it in now, alright? I’ll go slow, let me know if it hurts darling.” Norman said softly, as you nodded. You couldn’t look him in the eyes when his tip rubbed against your folds, before gently pressing in. Your mouth was held agape, as your eyes were squeezed tightly shut, soft moans and whimpers exiting your mouth. You wrapped your hands around his neck, clawing at his back slightly, hissing at the pain of him stretching your walls. Once he was fully in, you could feel the tip nestled deep within your folds, a soft grunt coming from your boyfriend. You tapped on his back, letting him know that you were ready, and that he could move. His hips drew back, making you whimper. The more he pulled back, the emptier you felt. Though he stopped, and immediately slammed back into you, filling your walls back up with his length. A loud moan escaped from your mouth with the rough thrust, and you quickly drew a hand back from his back, and pressed it tightly against your mouth, spilling your noises against it, in a terrible attempt to muffle them. Norman definitely didn’t like it, growling slightly, removing both your hand from your mouth, and the one on his back, pinning them above your head once more.

“You never- You never listen. I want to hear you sweetheart. Spill those noises for me.” He grunted, a smirk plastered on his face as your mouth stayed open, your eyes wide as well. Constant noises spilt from your mouth as you felt yourself approaching your second climax, though Norman didn’t seem to be faltering one bit.

“Nor-man- Close-” You moaned out, your walls clenching around him as he plowed through your insides.

“C’mon baby.. Let go.. Cum for me..” He cooed, re-assuring you, as your second climax hit you like a truck. You came all over his cock, feeling your juices coat his length. You thought he would stop, but he just kept going, fucking you into overstimulation. Tears welled in your eyes, as his thrusts seemed as persistent as ever. His name fell like a broken prayer from your lips, it being the only thing you’re able to say, a dumb, fucked out expression on your face, as all you could do was take his cock. Your nails scratched at his wrist that was holding both of them down, and your hips bucked, trying to gain more friction. You were a mess of emotions, and the sight alone made Norman want to cum right here and now. You looked so hot, all messed up, all because of his cock.

“Look at you- All.. All fucked out because of me. My cock. I bet he never could fuck you the way I do.” His voice turned from soft, to a possessive growl. You were his. His, and his only. His thrusts seemed to falter, and you felt yourself coming close again as well. You felt him start to pull out, but you clenched onto him, not wanting him to.

“M’ on p-ill- mMH!” You moaned, and he nodded. He thrusted roughly a few more times, before filling you up to the brim with his cum. You came shortly after, the overstimulation being too much for you to handle. He laid there for a few seconds, still nestled deep inside of you, waiting for your high to come down. Your fucked out expression was absolutely adorable, and Norman couldn’t handle it. Once you had calmed down, he slowly pulled out, making you hiss. Some of his cum dribbled down your leg, and he got up to go grab wipes, but you wined when he did.

“Later.. Want to.. Cuddle.” You said softly. He smiled, he was not against being in your embrace, and he couldn’t say no to that face of yours. He walked back over, and lifted the blanket for you to shimmy your way in, before laying down next to you. He immediately pulled the blankets over the both of you, before laying on his side, and wrapping his arms around your body. He treated you like porcelain, that if any moment he hugged you just a bit too tight, you’d shatter in his arms. You nuzzled your face into his chest, humming in content at the warmness your boyfriend gave you.

“Thank you Norman.. For an amazing night. Thank you for treating me right.” You said gently, your hands tracing circles and other shapes on Norman’s back. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, and you could feel him smiling.

“Of course my dear. You deserve all of this and more. I promise to take care of you until the end of time, darling.” That made you smile, your eyes feeling heavy.

“I’ll also have to have a chat with my son about how to treat a lady right.” He added, a chuckle in his voice.

“Oh, don’t even mention him. It’s just you… and I Norman..” You said gently, before your eyes closed, your breath becoming slower, falling into a deep sleep, comfortable against your lover’s chest.

“Indeed it is, you and I, forever and always my dear.”

Added Extra

Here you were, standing in the kitchen the very morning after, making breakfast for two, instead of three. Your legs ached, as well as the bruise on your neck had formed into a dark purple. Harry walked down the large staircase, and you were unaware of what time he had arrived home, and in all honesty, you didn’t care. He spotted you, about to say something, before noticing your bruised neck, the way you no longer wore your engagement ring, and the way your legs had a slight wobble to them, while standing in place making breakfast. He opened his mouth, about to call your name in anger, before another voice had called your name instead. His father. Norman walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“Goodmorning darling, I assume you slept well?” He asked, and you responded with a nod. He stormed over, and into the kitchen.

“Dad.” Harry said angrily.

“Harry.” Norman responded, calmly, with his hands still wrapped around your waist, his head just turned to meet his son’s angry gaze.

“What are you doing with my fiance?” Harry’s face was contorted with rage, but Norman didn’t seem to care. Norman started to speak, before you put a finger to his mouth.

“Actually, Harry. I am no longer your fiance, and you and I, are over. I’m tired of being the second choice. If you didn’t realize, last night was the third time. The THIRD time, Harry Osborn, that you left me outside of a restaurant, to go to Mary Jane’s house.” You stressed, your voice tainted with anger, Harry tried to talk, but you cut him off.

“You never listen Harry, you never take any interest in what I have to say. So I found someone that did. I found someone that has always listened, supported, cared, and not put me second. So if you even think for a moment that you’re the victim of this, you’re not.” You say, sighing, as Norman rubs your sides, trying to calm you down.

“I hope you treat Mary Jane better than you did me. Because she is a very nice girl, who in all honesty, you don’t deserve.” You said, your tone clearly stating that you were done with him.

“The rings on the counter, go give it to her.” Norman said, and all Harry could do was stare angrily at his father.

“I can’t believe you, with my father too. He’s- He’s way older than you.” Harry said, smoothing back his hair in frustration.

“Yea Harry? Well guess what, your father is the only one who has cared for me the way a lover should. I’m getting tired of seeing your face, you should get a move on.” You sighed, before coming up with an idea.

“And he may be older, but the sex, was absolutely amazing.” You said, winking at Harry. A proud smirk fell onto Norman’s face, while a disgusted look fell onto Harry’s. That was enough to send him storming out the front door. Once he had left, you broke out into laughter.

“He was absolutely pissed.” You laughed, hugging Norman tightly.

“Well he’ll have to get over it, because when I marry you, you’ll be his new mother.” He laughed as well, kissing your forehead.

“Normann!! You sappy idiot.” You giggled, playfully hitting his chest.

“I’m just stating facts, my love.” He grinned.

“Also, was the sex really that good.” He teased, a smirk on his face once again.

“Norman Osborn!” You gasped, faking a shocked expression, before you couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you just broke out in laughter.

“If you really want to know, yes, yes it was.” You grinned, before the smell of smoke hit your nostrils.

“OH SHIT THE BACON-“ You laughed, pushing yourself away from him.

He was your one and only, forever and always.

#norman osborn #norman #green goblin #nwh #nowayhome #normanxreader #normanosbornxreader #harry osborn #doc ock x reader #spiderman #spiderman1 #spiderman2 #fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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marvel-snape-writes · 2 years

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I’m gonna post the next part of my next Norman Osborn fic at some point this week because the hold this man has on me atm is something else

#norman osborn #marvel #marvel multiverse #marvel cinematic universe #green goblin #willem dafoe #Norman Osborn smut #spider man: no way home #spiderman

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larptrash · 1 year

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#smut #goblincoreaesthetic #goblinbox #goblincore #goblin #goblin culture #green goblin #original art #artclass #artists on tumblr #digital art #art #inkdrawing #ink

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greengoblinswifey · 2 years

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His Cherry- Norman Osborn x Fem!Babysitter!Reader

Summary: You're his cherry. His addiction and he can't get enough of you.

Warnings: Praise kink, Daddy Kink, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Cheating, Age Gap, Oral sex(f+m receiving), dirty talk, Kinda rough sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal.

A/N: I'm a huge lana stan and I was listening to Cherry last night and it inspired me to write this :)

Ao3 link

Of course it was wrong but in Norman's eyes, wrong was always right. His marriage be damned, from the moment he saw you, he knew he needed to have you and from the moment you saw him, you wanted him to be your daddy. You were his cherry, he called you that because cherries were his favourite fruit and he was addicted to you both. You weren't just his four year old son's babysitter, you were so much more. His plaything. His little slut. His cherry. To soften your guilt you always told yourself his and Emily's marriage was on the rocks before you entered the picture. She was unfaithful first and they only stayed together for Harry.

It was a typical day for you at the Osborn mansion. After much hassle, you finally got Harry down for a nap and just as you did, the large front door slammed, signaling Emily's departure. As soon as the door slammed, Norman pounced on you like a predator hungry for its prey and pushed you against the wall. He pinned your arms above your head and kissed you hungrily. You relished in the taste of his favourite fruit and mint on his tongue as it brushed over yours before eventually sucking on it.

"I missed you my little cherry," he said into the kiss.

"Mm- we had sex in your car yesterday," you chuckled.

He moved to your neck, sucking and licking as you shivered and moaned at the sensation. This had been your routine for a few months. He was your drug and you were addicted. You couldn't keep your hands off him and he couldn't keep his hands off you. He fucked you against every door and on every surface in his mansion. Who knew a married man could be this irresistible?

By the time he was done with your neck, it had a trail of hickeys you'd probably have to cover up later. He hiked up your red and white flower dress and smirked seeing that you had on no panties underneath.

"My dirty cherry. No panties and you're dripping down your thighs," he mocked. You whined in response as kneeled and licked your thighs wet with your slick then moved up to your pussy.

"Oh daddy, right there!" you whimpered. He flattened his tongue on your pulsing clit and lapped at it slowly before speeding up the pace of his skilled tongue. "So sweet my cherry, and you're all mine," he groaned. You loved how demanding he was--how he exerted his dominance. It was only right you called him daddy, and the fact that he was older and rich topped it off. He was never afraid of claiming you as his even though there was no legality binding you. In his eyes you were his.

His mouth practically engulfed your pussy. He wanted to devour you, make love to your-- no, his pussy. You gripped his slicked back hair tightly as your legs turned to jelly. Your eyes squeezed shut and all you could focus on was the way he was eating you out. Licking your pussy from your entrance to your clit then pushing his tongue inside you.

"Just like that daddy, fuck," you cried out, tears now forming in your eyes. His tongue now focused on your clit, flicking it and nipping softly as he put one of his long fingers inside you.

"So tight and wet," he purred. It was almost embarrassing hearing how wet you were and your own moans but with your daddy, you had nothing to be ashamed of. He loved every sound your body made and he prided himself in making you so wet he could hear the squelching.

He pumped his finger in and out of you as you mewled daddy and tugged on his hair. He curled his finger inside you as he continued to suck on your nub. "Daddy! Fuck, daddy! I'm- I'm gonna cum," you whimpered. He sped up his movements, pumping his finger inside you faster and rougher. "Cum for me my pretty cherry," he commanded.

Your back arched off the wall, tears streamed down your cheeks and your pussy gushed into his mouth as he continued finger fucking you and lapping at your clit. He licked and slurped every drop before pulling his finger from your pussy. "Good girl. Such a good girl for daddy." He stood up and smeared the wetness that was on his finger on your lips before licking it off. You captured his tongue in a messy kiss, greedily going deeper to taste yourself.

"Daddy please, I want your cock so bad," you begged, pulling away from the kiss.

"Being greedy gets you nowhere my cherry, you know that. Now get on your knees and show me how bad you want daddy's cock," he said. His eyes were dark with lust and his cock strained against his dress pants. Keeping your eyes up at him just the way you knew he liked it, you unbuckled his pants and pulled it down along with his boxers. His painfully hard erection sprang free. Precum leaked from the pink tip and you practically drooled.

He took his bottom lips between his teeth as you licked from the base to the tip. Your tongue ran over the slit, sucking the precum off before taking half of him into your mouth. Using your hands, you stroked the rest of his cock you couldn't fit in your mouth but he was having none of it. He took your hands off and thrusted into your mouth making you gag.

"Just like that princess. Choke on daddy's dick. You look so pretty when you do," he groaned. He moaned at the dazed and lustful look in your innocent eyes. Those innocent eyes that easily fooled his wife. You pressed your hands on his thighs and he stopped his movement, allowing you to move your head on your own. You sucked the sides, making love to his cock as he did your pussy. You spat out the saliva and precum on his balls, and took them each into your mouth, humming and sending vibrations throughout his body.

He felt his balls tighten and his cock twitching but he wanted to cum inside your pussy first. To fill you to the brim and breed you. He pulled you up from your knees and kissed you sloppily.

"Do you want daddy's cock now?" he asked.

You looked up at him towering over you and nodded frantically. Your clit was throbbing profusely and you needed his cock for the feeling to subside.

"Use your words cherry," he said.

"Yes daddy. I need your big cock so bad. Please fuck me," you pleaded, throwing your arms around his neck.

He seemed to be satisfied with your answer and he lifted you up, pulling your dress back up again. You wrapped your legs around him and as you did, he slowly lowered your quivering pussy onto his long cock.

"Daddy!" you mewled, "stretching me so much, you're so big." He slammed you down on his cock fully, giving his sweet cherry no time to adjust to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn't get used to how big his dick was. He moved your thighs over his forearms and began pounding into you, leaving you moaning and unable to speak.

"Awww, my poor little cherry. Can't even form a single word, you're so cute," he chuckled.

His strength aided him in walking to his master bedroom and fucking you as he did. He walked with you pass Harry's room where he was sound asleep and arrived at his, his cock still rutting in and out of you as you moaned in his ear.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and fucked up into your warm, gushing pussy. You were so wet that your juices were all over his forearms.

"God, I'll never get tired of this pussy. Daddy loves it so much. You were made for daddy," he smirked.

"Oh fuck! Da-daddy, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered. You buried your face into his neck as he thrusted up into you roughly, brushing against your cervix as he did. As he hit your cervix, your orgasm washed over you like a wave. You mewled daddy continuously as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks and he fucked you.

He stood up and placed you on your stomach. You tried to get on all fours but you were too weak to do so.

"It's ok my cherry, stay just like that. Daddy will take care of you," he said. You absolutely adored when he told you he would take care of you. It made your pussy clench around nothing.

He slammed back into you, the new position making you wetter and creamier than the last. He got even harder, watching your ass jiggle as he fucked you from behind. Later, he'd lube you up and fuck you in it, hard. He was thrusting into you, making the bed shake and your stomach began to hurt from the impending orgasm.

"Clenching around daddy's big cock so well. Cum for daddy princess," he groaned, mesmerized by his cock moving in and out of you. At his command, your pussy squirted onto his cock.

"Oh God! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" you screamed. The orgasm made you shake and your eyes turned white. He placed a kiss on your back before putting one foot on the bed.

Norman easily slipped back into your soaked pussy, ready to have his own intense orgasm. His strokes were hard, animalistic as his mind tried to grasp how tight you were squeezing him. He squeezed your ass cheek and moaned, watching as his cock came out sloppier than when it went inside you.

"God," he moaned, "I know you're ovulating but daddy has to cum inside you." Your mind was too fuzzy and focused on pleasure to protest. You just laid there and allowed him to use you, as you should.

"Gonna cum and you're gonna take daddy's cum in this tight pussy. Can't wait to see you swollen with my babies," he groaned, rolling his hips. You moaned in response, drooling all over the stain sheets.

"Tell me how bad you want it. Beg me to put a baby into you cherry," he growled.

He didn't need to repeat himself. "Please! Please daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, please cum inside me, fill me with all your babies. I'm all yours daddy. Please make your cherry a mommy," you cried.

That did it or him and long ropes of his white cum spurted inside your pussy. You moaned, feeling the warm stickiness fill your walls. He stayed inside your pussy, allowing you to milk him of all he had. He was serious about breeding you.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, "that's it cherry, milk your daddy's cock, it's all yours. Take all of it."

He was about to fall on top of you before he stopped himself. He slipped out and you whined at the loss of him but you were content again when he laid on the bed, pulled you on top of him and buried his cock deep inside you.

"Daddy's gonna keep his cock inside you my pretty cherry. Can't let any of daddy's cum go to waste and then later, daddy's gonna fuck your tight little ass."

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roguelov · 10 months

Text

All Work, No Play

Summary: After another mission, you returned back to Miguel. Yet, he paid little mind to you, focused solely on his work. Soon, your mind wandered to all your times together and you quickly craved him. Miguel, however, being stubborn and busy as per usual would not budge. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: ~3.9k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used/ reader described as beautiful)

Warnings: SMUT (thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving and male!receiving), cockwarming, dirty talk, edging, riding, unprotected sex, mainly dom!Miguel, creampie, begging, a little biting and blood), some fluff also sprinkled throughout, established relationship

Based of my post here

MINOR DNI/18+ ONLY

Another anomaly.

Another mission.

Another universe saved.

You should be thrilled, or at least pleased with the work you have accomplished. Yet, all you wished was to go back to Spider HQ and collapse.

Or more specifically, you wanted to collapse into someone’s arms.

Opening a portal, you stepped through with the tied up anomaly in tow. You almost relaxed hearing the cacophony of chatter from all the other spider people. It was strangely homely, if not comforting to see others similar to yourself. A few approached - the ones you called to tell of the anomaly you were bringing back - and swept up the anomaly to be sent back to their own universe. You thanked them and headed straight to the one person who ran this entire operation: Miguel O’Hara. His office was up ahead, and a place few willingly entered without explicit permission.

Walking down the hall and passing all the machines and discarded work, you glanced up to see the high platform in the air with a dozen or so monitors. You don’t announce yourself. You fired a web, swinging up. Your feet landed quietly, stealthy, onto the platform. But, you knew he sensed your presence. The man leaned forward in his chair, tapping away at the holographic monitors. News feeds, reports, surveillances of other universes, cases of anomalies, all of it zipped by.

“Good job today,” he muttered, still distracted by what was in front of him.

Pulling off your mask, you walked forward and leaned your hip against the edge of the massive desk. “Yeah, well after fighting so many Green Goblin variants you start to understand their patterns a bit.”

His dark crimson eyes peered over at you. He hummed, and nodded once. He glanced back to the screens, obviously more interested with his work than this basic conversation.

It stung, just a little. You quickly pushed down those bitter feelings, this was truly nothing new. However, this gave you an opportunity to drink him in. And most of all, to let your thoughts wander for a brief moment.

“Miguel,” you moaned, tugging on his dark locks.

He chuckled, lifting his head from in between your legs. His mouth coated in your juices. He rested his cheek on your bruised thighs, smirking up at you with such mischief and adoration in his glowing crimson eyes.

“Yes?” He murmured, and pressed endearing butterfly kisses on your thigh.

You groaned at his antics. You yanked on his hair, directing him towards where you needed him most. He laughed again.

“Oh?” His hot breath on your dripping core made you instinctively buck your hips towards his wondrous mouth. His hands curled around your hips and forced you back down into the bed. “Talk to me, cariño. Hmm? What do you want?

“Are you even listening to me?”

You snapped out of your thoughts. Blinking, you hummed confused, “What?”

Miguel sighed, heavily, “Never mind, we can discuss it later.”

He shook his head, and returned to his work. You, however, stood staring. Almost hungrily. When was the last time anyway? A month? Longer? You both have been so busy lately. You peered down at the hallway and entrance of the office. No one was coming, and no one could truly sneak up the two of you if -

“Is there something else you need?”

Your eyes snapped back over to him. He didn’t look at you, but his question lingered in the air.

There was.

There was indeed.

“Miguel,” you began, stepping towards him.

Internally, he groaned. He knew that tone. And now was certainly not the time.

“No,” he quickly answered.

“Come on, Miguel,” you complained. You wanted to collapse into someone’s arms, and why not make it more fun while you were at it. Why not find a wonderful way to distress? “A quickie before anyone notices.”

“Later,” he muttered, still typing away at screens and reviewing reports.

Later?

You huffed, crossing your arms. Your lips thinned, very obviously annoyed. Later, it was his new favorite word. But, you wouldn’t take ‘no’ or ‘later’ this time. No more excuses. And luckily, you didn’t have to dwell long before an idea struck. One to satisfy yourself, and to get underneath his skin.

Just as he has with you.

A win win.

In a flurry of movements, you quickly straddled his lap, completely unbothered by his minor protests. His chair rolled back as he glared up at you. He was ready to argue, ready to throw you off. But, your next words intrigued him enough to pause momentarily. You leaned in closely, and whispered sultry, “If you won’t, then I will.”

You positioned yourself over one of his massive thighs. He knew exactly what you were doing now. And oh, he would not cave so easily.

Or so he told himself.

Your hands rested on his shoulder. You blocked out the screens and forced him to look at you, forced him to acknowledge you and your needs after so long. You rolled your hips, and purposefully let out an outrageously pornographic moan. His hands balled up into fists at his sides.

Two could play at this game, he thought.

His jaw clenched. He would work, and work he did. He would not let you win. But, god he was starting to crave you. His thoughts were now being dragged through a lustful haze.

He ran this thumb over your bottom lips, pushing your mouth apart. “Just like that,” Miguel praised you as he slipped his cock inside your mouth.

He sighed deeply, dropping his shoulders.

On your knees, you slowly bobbed your head. Your hands wrapped around his thighs to steady yourself. One of his hands rested on top of your head, guiding you. It was a soft, easy pace.

A slow build up.

You glanced up at him. His head was tipped back, looking up at the ceiling. His mouth was agape as soft moans tumbled out. Sweat beaded across his forehead. A few of his dark curls clung to his sculpted face. Sensing your gaze, his head dropped forward as he smiled lovingly down at you. His hand moved from the top of your head to your cheek.

You, on the other hand, shared a darker look, a more devious one. Before Miguel could ask, you moaned loudly, sending waves of pleasant vibrations and instantly picking up your pace. He hissed out. Almost doubling over, he braced his forearm onto the nearby wall.

“Ah,” he groaned as a string of curses spilled out of his lips in Spanish.

You smiled to yourself, taking such pride in rendering Earth 2099’s Spiderman into a babbling mess.

“Oh my god, just like that,” he moaned. “Please, don’t stop.”

You grinded down, and moaned unabashedly.

A vein nearly popped in Miguel’s forehead.

You bunched up his suit, and quickened your pace. Your wall fluttered around nothing, begging to be filled. You needed him, but you wouldn’t say that.

Both of you were a bit too egotistical at times. This being one of them.

His teeth grinded together as he listened to you, to your growing heavy panting. He relented somewhat. One of his hands rested your hip - his talons poked at you - as he very gently followed your movements. Your forehead rested onto his shoulder as you whined desperately and so closely to his ear. All to just tease him further.

God, how could he focus? How could he work now?

Your soft moans and cries, your panting, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your obvious attempt to finish as you sped up but can’t quite reach it, it all riled him up. It all went straight through him. The bulge in his suit became more and more apparent with every agonizing second.

Fine, he thought.

He clenched his thigh.

You immediately gasped, “Miguel.”

You had finally won.

He finally caved.

He instantly turned his head, burying his face into your neck. His hot breath on your already flushed skin made you shiver. His lips teasingly brushed over your neck then began to place sloppy kisses up and down. Both of his hands now forcibly grabbed your hips as you continued to rock back and forth. He yanked you harshly forward, setting a new brutal pace.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “Let me help.”

“Now?” You breathed out. It was a jab at him, even though you were unbelievably grateful right now. He grinded you down on his thigh, and you squirmed. “Now, you want to help?”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“God, no.”

He smirked to himself, “Good.”

Yes, you had finally enticed him. You had also awakened something else in him - that familiar sinister fiend.

“Take it off,” he whispered.

“What?” You barely registered his words. All your focus was on the overwhelming relief you were now feeling as well as the knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You hissed. His talons started to bury further and further into your hips and thighs. Such pain brought such sweet, undeniable pleasure.

“Your suit. Take it off.” He repeated a little more sternly in your ear. His lips skimmed over your neck again. “Or I could rip it off -“

“Don’t you dare,” you huffed. This was your only spare left.

“Then take it off.”

His grip loosened.

Fine.

Unzipping the suit, you quickly stood up, shucking off everything, and leaving nothing behind. Miguel, however, only removed the lower half of his suit. Whatever tech he wore allowed such privileges. You wanted to complain, you wanted to scoff. Yet, it was all silenced.

His cock sprung out, the swollen tip leaked with precum.

Your heart leapt up into your throat, and you shivered in delightful anticipation. Not to mention, how your eyes drank in the happy trail which followed up his abdomen.

After so many times, it still all excited you.

“Come here,” Miguel sweetly whispered, almost too sweetly. He had a plan for you. One you happily ignored. He reached out, grabbing your hips guiding you back to him. You clambered back into the chair, straddling him.

His thumbs soothingly rubbed at your hips. He stared up at you with a small smile on your lips. You had mistaken his smile for kindness, it was utterly devious. His eyes blazed with a certain sinful lust. The tip of his cock teased your entrance. You whined softly, then viciously dug your nails into his shoulders. “Miguel, I swear to -“

“Shhh,” he purred, and kissed your neck. “All will be better soon, cariño. But, let me have my fun … just for a little bit.”

Another mistake on your part.

You just nodded.

You needed this desperately. But, he possibly needed this more. He simply didn’t realize it until you were in his grasp again.

He groaned, slowly bringing you down. Inch by sweet delicious inch, he stretched you out. With your head still resting on his shoulder, you could look down and have the perfect view as he filled you completely.

Fuck.

Bottoming out, he slowly rolled his hips, sending a small wave of pleasure through you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed in delight. His fang now protruded, grazing over your neck. You lolled your head to the side. He smirked. He licked up your neck, and nibbled on your ear. “You are going to pay dearly for what you did.”

You opened your mouth, a retort was ready to leap off your tongue. His hands then wandered up. His talons softly scratched across your back. You shivered, and hummed instead. The faint touches over your needy skin sent dizzying spells through you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, flushing you to his broad chest.

His lips brushed by your ear, “So impatient.”

You let out an airy laugh. You lifted your head, staring directly into his intimidating crimson eyes. “You’re right.”

You bucked your hips. He groaned, burying his face back into your neck. Your fingers tangled into his dark hair. You tried to lift your hips, tried to get more friction. But, his hands flew down keeping you in place. He chuckled darkly. He slowly kissed your neck, a sweetness despite the words that soon followed. “Oh, no. You have to sit here.”

He scooted his chair forward with you still in his lap. Your back bumped into the desk. You squirmed, wishing for some relief. But, it would not come. At least not now. One of his arms locked around your waist, easily keeping you in place as the other began to tap on screens.

“I think it’s time for you to learn some patience,” he hummed into your neck with a wide, devilishly smirk.

“Miguel, you can’t be -“

He instantly clamped a hand over your mouth. Staring directly into your eyes, he leaned in closely, and almost snarled. “Patience and silence.”

You had to bite back a snide remark. You wanted to get under his skin again, you wanted to get more of a rise out of him. But, you also wanted relief.

As if knowing of your impending comeback, he dipped his head, whispering in your ear, “Maybe if you let me finish my work, there might be a reward.”

His hand fell from your mouth, your pouty lips, and rested on your hip again. His fingers dug into you: a final warning to stay perfectly still.

“So, can you behave for me?” He asked, clearly amused by all of this.

You gritted your teeth, and opened your mouth. He bucked his hips upwards. All the words died. A moan fell out of your lips instead. He chuckled, and lightly smacked your hip, “Good.”

Your silence was now taken as obedience.

He turned his attention back onto the multiple screens and went back to work.

Minutes crawled by. Maybe an hour? Maybe it was only seconds? You clung to his body fiercely like it was the only life preserver left in this sea of torment. Sweat broke out across your forehead. You buried your face into his shoulder, panting. The clicks, and beeps, of the screens couldn’t drown out your desperate noises. The hums, the whines, the moans, you were becoming so vocal. Any slight movement - whether intentional or not - sent jolts of pleasure through you.

Yet, it wasn’t enough.

Even if you tried to move, Miguel’s grip was ironclad. One twitch and you were met with a tsk of disappointment followed by a snarky remark along the lines of ‘the more you move, the more I work’ or ‘relax, patience is often the best reward’.

And if you had any comment at all, he silenced it before you could utter a single letter by giving you just a minor taste of relief. He would buck or roll his hips, or grind you down further on him.

By the end, however long it was, you were a complete mess and slumped heavily into him. Most of your fight had worn out.

Soon, his fingers sneakily moved across your stomach. You tensed. Dipping lower, they found your sensitive little bud. You gasped, and moaned. His fingers slowly circled around your clit, just teasing you more and more. You bit the inside of your cheek hoping to prevent all the insane pleas that were ready to crawl out. You were so sensitive and so needy. Your walls clamped down around him, aching for more.

He groaned at the sensation, “Oh, I want to fold you over this desk.”

You shuddered in excitement. “Then do it,” you taunted, despite your incredibly shaky voice.

“No.”

You whined, “God, you are so annoying sometimes.”

“And so are you.”

You swore under your breath. He was so infuriating, so annoying, and still somehow so unbelievably gorgeous. If you had any less of a spine, you would let him get away with so much more. But, just how he teased you, you equally loved to return the favor.

You thought today was your turn, but you underestimated him.

“God,” you mumbled. You started to kiss his jaw, trying to soften him up. “Just fuck me already.”

His fingers pulled away from your clit, and you almost wanted to cry. Chuckling, his lips brushed over your ear and teasingly asked in a low seductive voice, “Aw, qué pasa, cariño?”

“You are the worst,” you groaned, half heartedly.

He smirked. Your words and how your body reacted were always at odds. “I am? Says the one who strolled in here asking for it.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hissed.

He rolled your hips, and you instantly moaned. “Oh, but you love it,” he hummed. “Don’t you?”

No response.

“Aw, no witty comeback? No attempts to bruise my pride? Or to simply irritate me?” He looked into your eyes, seeing your obvious and desperate want. “Maybe you have finally learned some patience.”

Your heart soared. You didn’t dare say yes or nod your head in fear of more sinister tricks. You could be here for another hour if he so wished.

He slowly rocked your hips, giving you just a bit more friction. That small simple movement was downright hypnotic. “Just say please for me, okay? Dame uno por favor, sí?”

Your head tipped back as you sighed blissfully. You didn’t hear him. Or you willfully ignored him. He quickly grabbed your chin, yanking you forward.

“Ah, let me hear it.”

Normally, you would fight. Yet, you were at your wit’s ends. You instead melted into him, gazing longingly into his eyes. You conceded. “Please,” you whispered very softly.

“Más fuerte. Say it louder.”

“Please,” you begged. You cupped his face, bringing him closer. You peppered kisses all over his face and continuously said ‘please’ after each one. “Please, I need you.”

He hummed, “Perfect.”

Grabbing the back of your neck, he kissed you passionately. His tongue slipped inside without warning, swirling around and drawing out more desires. You moaned unapologetically into him. With inhuman strength, he easily picked you up, laying you across the desk. All the holographic screens disappeared. He attacked your lips with a ferociousness, one you had experienced time and time again. And yet it continued to leave you breathless. Pulling away, his sharp teeth tugged on your bottom lip, and drew out a small spot of blood.

He smirked down at you, at your droopy lust filled eyes. His thumb grazed over your now swollen lips and wiped away the dot of blood. “Qué hacer contigo? Hmm? Should I really give you what you want?”

Your hands curled around to the back of his neck, drawing him back down. You gently pecked his lips. A tiny plea, and almost a small apology for starting this. “Please,” you begged again quietly against his lips.

His hands traveled down your body, latching back onto your hips. “Why can’t you be this nice all the time?”

“You love it, though,” you smirked a little, tossing his same words back at him. “You like when I’m annoying you.”

“Perhaps.” He pulled out, before forcibly slamming once into you. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan. “But, I do like when I’m able to silence that pretty mouth of yours.”

After so long, he pounded into you. Mercilessly. You arched your back, and wrapped your legs around his waist. You had driven him insane since your little stunt, he had his fun, and now he was going to take everything you gave him. He would have you crying, and whining on his cock. He would have you begging nonstop. He would have you cumming again and again if he so pleased.

You kissed him messily again. Tongue and teeth clashed. You bucked your hips, matching his mind numbing pace. You wouldn’t last long. You could feel the knot ready to burst, but you didn’t want this to end. Breaking apart, catching a fleeting breath, you moaned as his cock easily split you open.

He growled, rutting into you like a feral animal.

But, then something snapped in him.

This wasn’t enough for him.

He lifted you up off the desk, holding your waist. Bucking his hips upward, and lifting you up and down, while also using the help of gravity, you were being slammed tirelessly on his cock.

“Fuck, Miguel.” You clawed at his shoulders.

His cock kissed new places you didn’t think was possible. You nearly went limp in his grasp, like a rag doll. It was all so delicious, all so wonderful, and oh so sinful. The wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out, the slapping of his hips against you, his soft moans and hisses of pleasure, it all added to this building sensation - the impending euphoric crash.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t last long now in this new position.

“Miguel,” you moaned. “I’m about to -“

“I know, I know,” he murmured into your neck. He nipped and sucked at your tender neck. Your walls fluttered around him. God, it drove him nuts. You felt amazing, heavenly even. “Cum for me, carñio. Please, I want to see it.”

You tried to help, tried to grind on him or buck your hips. But, you were at his mercy. He was relentless. And god, you loved it. You were happily bouncing on his cock as he used and abused you.

“Fuck,” you moaned again.

You were so close.

“Come on,” he hissed. “Let me see it.”

You clashed your lips to his. It was sloppy. Your legs tightened around him, as if needing him closer. As if he wasn’t already buried deeply inside of you. Miguel moaned. He slammed you back down, and rolled your hips.

That was it.

The knot snapped.

You moaned loudly into him, and you came around him. Miguel peppered kisses all over your face. “Ah, just like that. Oh, you are so beautiful.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you began to work yourself back down from your high. You pressed your forehead against his. Breathing heavily, you whined softly he still continued to use you to reach his own end. It was all so much, and somehow not enough. Fuck, he truly was amazing. Looking into his eyes, you gently stroked his cheek and murmured tiredly, “Come on, Miguel. Fill me up. I want you to.”

Miguel moaned.

“Just like that. God, you feel amazing.” You hummed, playing with the ends of his hair on the back of his neck.

His talons dug into your hips, cutting them and bruising them. After a few more thrusts, he stuttered. Tumbling forward, he quickly set you down on the desk, his arms on either side of you as he finished inside of you. He stared deeply into your eyes, his pupil blown wide with an animalistic haze still behind them. Your combined breathing filled the space between you.

With your legs still around his waist, you jerked him closer. He hissed, still very sensitive. “Still want to go back to work,” you smugly asked.

He chuckled, then smiled at you. “Still have that mouth on you I see.”

“Oh, but you love it.”

His thumb - and with his talons still out - ran across your lip. “I do, and how about we continue this elsewhere. Maybe I can have it put to other uses.”

“Maybe if you beg nicely.”

His eyes lit with such passion at your lightning fast remark. His eyes flickered to your lips, smirking, “Hmm, maybe.”

You truly knew how to push him. God, he did love it. No, actually he just loved you.

#across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel O’Hara x afab!reader #afab!reader #miguel o’hara smut #smut

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astarioffsimpmain · 2 months

Text

Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner.

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind.

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw.

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind.

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words.

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away."

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart."

My heart.

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze.

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you."

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little.

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew."

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl.

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest.

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened.

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest.

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent.

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside.

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so.

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself.

fin

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin silverbough #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin #baldur's gate 3 halsin #baldur's gate halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x f!reader #halsin x f!tav #halsin x plus size reader #halsin x plus size f!reader #unsolicited affections

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