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fake-bleach · 11 months

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all mine | miguel o'hara x reader

summary: You have an unspoken rule with Miguel O’Hara. He takes care of you, he provides for you, and in return, you let him take what he wants.

word count: 2.2k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), literally porn no plot, unprotected piv sex, implications of free use but also not rly, slight choking, dirty talk, roughish sex, no foreplay (straighttt to it), use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), coming inside, i think that's it lolll, !no atsv spoilers!

i know this isn't p but i watched spiderverse last night and had to get him out of my system + i adore oscar isaac <3 working on two joel fics rn so expect those :)

ao3 link | masterlist

The ruffling of your sheets weren't nearly enough to wake you from your sleep. But, the pressure of Miguel's body on yours was.

It always was.

"Hey, baby.. It's me," he whispers in your ear, his hands and arms practically consuming you as they roam across your entire body. With you laying flat on your stomach, his hips and chest press so tightly against you.

It runs chills down your spine; the force of his pent up cock in his rigid suit as the sultry voice fills your hazy mind, barely wakening from your deep slumber. His lips plant desperate kisses on the back of your neck, lowering the more he lifts your flimsy pajama shirt up and up and up.

He never did really like you wearing anything to sleep.

Your sluggish murmurs barely register to him, a soft, “Mmphf," and "Miguel.." making him almost instinctively say the same words he always does when he comes to you.

"Yeah.. Missed you too, cariño." He mutters out, his hands already reaching for your shorts to lower them along with your panties, not taking a single second to waste. The small kisses he plants on your lower back never slow, giving you that bit of reassurance which almost sends a surge of energy through you.

He was always so needy with you; never putting much effort to make any small talk. He was here for a reason and you knew that.

But, you didn't mind it one bit.

The cool air from the sudden exposure on your skin sends shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble just enough to force a faint laugh out of Miguel's throat.

It's that same laugh that makes you crave him; the deep, heavy tone of it making your eyes flutter open with need already soaring through you and your core.

His fingers trail down to your inner thighs, almost teasing you with the gentle glide of the tips, wanting to force those little noises out of your mouth, which he successfully does. Your faint whines just make him grin, knowing that you need him.. just as much as he needs you.

He drifts them over your soft folds, nearly hissing out at how wet you already were. It makes him chuckle, your whimpers growing louder the more he touches you. "Already soaked for me, honey? Bet you were just waitin' for me to come see you.." He whispers out lowly, his lustful eyes fixed onto your glistening cunt.

His fingers take their time, faintly pressing against your entrance and swiping through your lips, gathering the wet slick that you were so graciously providing for him.

It always makes this so much easier for him.

You moan out, turning your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his body and the movement of his free hand releasing his cock from his suit, and the sight makes your mouth water.

He desperately guides the tip of it through your folds, getting ready to indulge himself into your warm heat. The feeling of his cock pressing into you makes you groan, gripping onto the sheets as butterflies flow through your stomach and core, hole clenching around nothing.

You needed him so bad already, just like you always did.

Mouth falling open, you whimper out, "please.." and all it does is make him laugh, smirking as he glances up at you. "Need me that bad, baby? Barely getting started.." He rasps out, nearly pressing the head of his cock into your cunt, but just enough to get him a taste of you.

He groans out, his hands now moving up to squeeze your ass eagerly before slapping it. The harsh sound and the sting of it makes you cry out, thrusting your hips against the sheets in attempt to get some kind of friction.

"Fuck, missed this pretty pussy.. Gonna cherish it.. fuck it.. just like you need, honey." He lets out with a faint hiss, taking his time to start pushing his cock inside of your tight hole. The girth of him makes your walls constrict around him, gripping onto him tightly as he presses himself into you, each inch making your jaw fall wider and wider.

You've been at this too many times with him, but you never get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

It doesn't take too long until his hips are flush against your ass, the tip of his cock piercing so deeply inside of you and filling you up to the brim. It has you letting out small pants, eyes almost rolling all the way to the back of your head at how heavy the air feels around you, how full you feel.

Your face lays on the bed, the side of your cheek pressed against your pillow as your eyes gaze onto Miguel's hips and large body nearly covering you entirely. He licks his drying lips, staring up at you for a moment to look at your face.

He coos at you, almost patronizingly. "Too much?" he teases, "Fucked you so many times, baby.. n' your cunt's still so tight around me."

His head tilts down to stare at the sight of your walls wrapped around him and slightly pulls out as he lifts your thigh up a bit, just enough to see you clench around him involuntarily. It makes him groan; the feeling of your warm pussy enough to wash all of his problems away.

That's why he was here, anyway.

His hips begin to create an unrelenting pace, slowly yet surely making your entire body push and pull into the mattress over and over again, every force of his cock hitting you harder each time.

The echoing smack of his hips slapping against your ass and thighs fill the room entirely, along with your moans growing louder with each thrust. The recurring sting of his skin leaves you breathless, letting out small gasps as you grip onto the sheets tighter.

Miguel doesn't take a second to rest, making sure he slams his cock into your cunt to the brim, using every inch of your hole as if it were only his to use.

He lets out short, hoarse moans each time he enters you. The squelching noises your soaked pussy gives out makes him smack your ass, your slick coating his cock and nearly running down your thighs.

The sounds make your cheeks burn, his mocking laugh forcing a groan out of you as he moves his body forward to lay his chest on your back now, the weight of him keeping your waist and stomach flush into the bed.

The pressure of him feels intoxicating, your breath hitching as he leans his mouth towards your ear. His grunts are the only thing that you can hear now, along with the faint sounds of the constant slaps of his hips against you. It's so filthy, yet you crave it every time with him.

His grunts now turn into whispers; faint, heavy breaths that you can barely process from how full and fucked out you felt.

It's almost like you're going in and out of consciousness, hardly registering what he was saying, until you hear, "Good fucking girl.. Lettin' me use you like this, fuck, taking such good care of me.."

You whimper out in response, his words making that heat in your stomach and core rise. The praise, yet degrading things that Miguel tells you always leave you wanting more.

His hips begin to slow down now, instead taking his time to pull his cock out of you, letting the tip of it rest against your entrance. Lifting his head from your shoulder, his eyes travel from your bare skin back to your ass. He shoves himself back into you, harder with each thrust so you can feel every inch of him, taking you completely.

You cry out at the intrusion, the harsh force making your eyes roll back as you whine out his name. The push of his cock reaches that spot deep inside of you, forcing your eyes wide open at the overwhelming sensation.

His name on your tongue drives him insane, lifting one of his hands from your ass to reach underneath the weight of your head, wrapping his fingers around your throat. He feels your heart pounding beneath his fingertips, his grip on you tightening just to see you gasp with his eyes fixed on your face now.

He moans your name, his coarse voice making you tighten around him, "There we go, sweetheart.. Think I hit a spot, yeah?" He murmurs out, your groans giving him the answer he needed. The repetitive movement of his thrusts never relent, Miguel making sure that the pace and aim of his cock stay the same.

Your body shudders at the feeling, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you feel him buried to the hilt. You breathe out, desperation seething out through your teeth, "Yeah, Miguel, s-shit, yeah..", feeling your orgasm build up the more he fucks you.

"That's it, honey, let me hear you say it.. Who's fuckin' you this good? Who's gonna make you come, baby?" He pants, thrusts growing faster as he chases his own release, needing to come with you.

Another smack of his large hand on your ass makes you gasp out, eyes shutting tightly as you force the words out of your lips, "You, Miguel, fuck, s'always you.. no one else.."

Your confession goes straight to Miguel's cock, pride growing at the knowledge that you give yourself to him and only him. He grits his teeth, groans slipping out of his mouth while he reaches between your stomach connected to the bed, pressing his fingers against your clit.

"Yeah, baby? I'm the only one who can fuck this pretty pussy, that right?" He urges out of you, hardly processing his thoughts before he can speak them, "You're mine to use? Mine to fuck when I want, huh?"

His words mixed with the pressure of his fingertips on your clit, pressing small, tight circles on it has you moaning out spurs of nonsense; mindless, fucked out noises, with the way his cock slams inside of you over and over again. You feel so full, the heat and coiling inside of your stomach and core increasing.

You whine out, biting your swollen lips, "F-Fuck! Yeah, yeah, m' yours Miguel, all fucking yours.." you breathe out, "Yours to fuck, whenever you want.. Yours to use; whatever you want, Miguel.."

Admitting that shouldn't have felt as good as it did.

You never thought you'd be able to speak like that, much less degrade yourself in such a way; not until he came into your life.

Not until he ruined you for everyone else.

His chest presses tightly against your back, lips back in your ear as he grunts into it, "That's my girl.. knowing your fuckin' place, that's right.." His hands press into the small of your back, forcing your stomach into the bed. You didn't think it was possible for you to feel even more full, but the way he buries his cock to the hilt has you seeing stars.

The quick circles on your clit with the force of his hips has your stomach tightening, coiling up as your walls constrict around his cock, making you come without any warning at all.

Your head lifts, pants and moans escaping your throat with your eyes shut. Miguel's voice encourages you, his fingers on your clit slowing, though his hips never let up. He lifts his chest off from your back to gain better leverage now, hands gripping onto your ass as he pounds himself into you.

The pressure of his cock into your sensitive, spent cunt has you wailing out, whining at the overstimulation. Miguel just uses you and your abused hole, chasing his own release as his cock twitches. "Shit, honey, gonna come, gonna fill you up, fuck," he groans out in rushed breaths.

You clench around him involuntarily, the spasms of your pussy and orgasm hardly to your own control, letting out, "Fill me up, baby, ruin me, please.."

Your words were enough to push Miguel right to the edge, the sudden halt of his thrusts making you gasp out as he buries himself deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick streams of come. He lets himself fall against you, chest pressed into your back with his hips up to the hilt of your hole.

The mix of your heavy breaths and his pants fill your ears and the entire room, the air filled with the scent of sex as you both fall from your highs. Your chest fills with air, heaving up and down with each breath you take as you stare at Miguel, taking in his figure entirely.

You could never truly allow yourself to actually feel for him; you knew that would never be wise, but you can't help the words that escape your mouth.

"Stay tonight?"

Miguel just lifts his head to look into your eyes, giving you a small, tired smile. "Yeah, honey.. Thank you..” he breathes with a press of his lips to your shoulder, “I needed this.”

"I know."

a/n: idek if this made any sense bc i wrote it so quick but idgaf i need him <3

reblogs are appreciated!

send me requests & i might write it for you! :)

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#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #spiderverse smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader #fake-bleach #my writing #i need him so bad

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faretheeoscar · 2 months

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NEEDY MIGUEL

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x SpiderFemaleReader

Warnings: 🔞 NSFW, Masturbation, brief mentions of sex, oral sex.

AN: English is not my first language, no beta read/grammar corrected.

PART 2 PART3 PART 4 (final soon)

Needy Miguel that comes home tired of another day at the spider society, dealing with more than he can take on.

Needy Miguel that feels the weight of the multiverse on his shoulders and feels empty inside when he opens the door of his room and nobody is there to greet him and comfort him.

Needy Miguel that drags his feet to bed exhausted, disengages his suit and lays flat naked on the bed, his body drained of energy.

Needy Miguel that tries to drift off to sleep but thoughts of you earlier on the day when you were together on a mission start invading his head, making him hot and bothered.

Needy Miguel that even though he’s tired and he know he’ll regret this in the morning gives his already hard cock a couple of testing tugs and immediately moans and squeezes his throbbing member at the thought of how good the curve of your ass looks in your spider suit.

Needy Miguel that dry fucks his fist angrily out of frustration of not having anyone that can satisfy him, not having a warm body against his, at the frustration of not being able to tell you how he feels about you, about not having the opportunity of fucking your sweet cunt instead of his own fist like every other day when he finds himself at this exact same situation.

Needy Miguel that stitches his eyebrows together as he thinks about how your moans would sound probably like heaven as he fucks you senseless, picturing your legs spreading out for him, your inner thighs full of bruises that he left after eating you out and making you come on his tongue at least 3 times before he buried his fat cock deep inside you.

Needy Miguel that decides to finally reach out for the lube and drip down some drops, moaning and arching his back at the sensation of the cold substance against his hot head.

Needy Miguel that likes to edge himself, likes to fuck his fist fast to then slow down and just rub his thumb against the underside of his weeping swollen red tip making his legs shiver and whimper in need.

Needy Miguel that plays with his balls with his free hand, pulls them down, kneads at them, stretches them and brings them together as he feels a sweet relief from that.

Needy Miguel that changes positions in bed and closes his eyes, resting his feet flat on the bed to meet each violent and fast tug of his hand with a thrust of his hips as a loud groan erupts from his chest and resonates all over his penthouse.

Needy Miguel that was too tired to even notice that when he threw his gizmo next to him in bed, he accidentally called you, the live feed option turning on, making you witness everything; hearing each moan and sweet sound he made, praising your name over and over again until finally loads and loads of thick cum ran down his knuckles when he met his release.

Fair for me to say you’re gonna probably have an interesting chat with him tomorrow.

AN: This is my first post writing smut for Miguel, I had a revelation about him after I woke up knowing that I dreamed about him but sadly I don’t remember what it was about 😭😭

Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated!

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#miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #oscar isaac characters #spidersona #spiderverse oc

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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months

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Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

#marvel x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #y/n

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psychedelic-ink · 11 months

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𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 4k

summary: after finding him wounded in an empty alleyway, against your better judgment, you decide to patch him up in your apartment. you expect that to be the end of it, never to see him again, that is, until you do.

warnings: piv, rough sex, dirty talking, biting, claws make a brief appearance, mild degradation (he calls you slut once), mention of female masturbation

You live in a world without heroes. Yet, the villains roam free.

You’re used to it by now, walking through the damp alleyways. You hear a shout here and there, always keeping your head bowed as you walk past whatever might be going on. Once upon a time, this bothered you. But after a knife to your stomach and a punch to the cheek, you learned to look the other way around, no matter how painful it might be. Sometimes you find yourself wondering why this might be. You always assumed some type of ying yang situation should be in place, making everything right, but you seem to be living in a world without good. Without light.

You don’t know what prompts you to do it. You’re walking back from work, the scent of rain and the stench of exhaust thick in the air. All you want to do is get to your cramped apartment before the downpour.

You think it’s the wind that makes you turn your head, you hate when your eyes water and dry out. When you do turn, you stare into the familiar abyss of the alleyway behind your apartment. It’s truly pitch black. Despite the darkness, you see a faint movement in shadows, a loud sound, a crash. You see a flash of red, blue. Your eyes narrow—what the?

You know well that you shouldn’t, that whatever was lurking in the shadows would be bad news, but you do it anyway. With a grunt, you open the flashlight of your phone and take a step closer. There’s a man laying on the cold ground, he doesn’t seem to be moving.

“Hello?” you call out. No answer. “Um, are you drunk or high? Should I call an ambulance?”

The broad figure groans and your heart nearly lurches. “No,” he mumbles. “No doctors.”

With a slight tremor in your step, you come closer. You shine the light into his face, his brows furrow, an annoyed scowl etching into his handsome features. Your lips part with a soft exhale. He’s so handsome.

Then you get a good look at the rest of him—what the hell is he wearing?

“Do you need help?” you ask, unsure. He doesn’t seem to be bleeding, his eye looks a bit swollen though. Wait, scratch that, you think you spot some blood on his lips. “Should I get you anything?”

Maybe you sound foolish, but you know better than to just call 911 for a random person. Everyone is a criminal these days. Fuck, if he was a criminal you should call the cops, this city is seriously starting to cloud your better judgment.

“No cops,” he chokes and coughs, as if he can read your thoughts. “Go away, I’ll be fine.”

No, he won’t.

He knows it. You know it.

“I live right next door,” you answer against your better judgment. “I have a first aid kit. I can patch you up if you want? I don’t wanna brag, but I am a nurse in training.”

He makes a sound that is similar to a chuckle but the sound quickly fades into a vicious cough. You tuck the phone into your pocket and lean over, “Alright big guy, you’re coming with me,” you attempt to throw his arm over your shoulder but that proves to be more difficult. “Can you stand? Even a little.”

He nods and straightens up a bit. You’re still carrying most of his weight but you manage to get him past the door and onto your couch.

You must’ve thrown him a little too hard because he lets out a loud grunt, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stifle the sound.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “Just wait for me here, I’ll come back with water and the first aid kit.”

The man makes another sound. You’re starting to think this is his only form of communication.

When you come back, he’s still where you left him. Albeit looking a bit more alert now, eyes constantly scanning your humble apartment. You can’t really blame him though, you would do the same thing. You eye him warily, then place the glass of water on the coffee table. He glares at it like it’s poison.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He scoffs, “I don’t think you could even if you tried,” he answers, tongue moving over his bloody bottom lip. He points at the table. “And there’s a coaster right there.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

Despite your sharp tone, you place the glass on the coaster and sit on the coffee table, the small first aid kit in hand. “Does that thing have a zipper, or. . . ?”

His right brow and lip cock up simultaneously. You’re acutely aware that no matter what you do, you’ll never be able to understand what’s going on in that head of his—Not that you want to. He’s a stranger. A man that looks strong enough to hold you by the neck before you can reach the pepper spray nestled in your bag.

The silence makes you uneasy, and when you finally open your mouth to speak, he leans forward. “Don’t freak out,” he grunts.

“Why would I freak out—” The rest of the sentence dies in your throat, his suit glitches—glitches—like a damn video game. It blinks once, twice and you swear you can see little particles glimmering on his skin, fading away from reality. Panic flaring in your gut, you look down.

Pants still on. And here your thought that the entire thing was a one-piece suit.

“I said don’t freak out,” he repeats, eyebrow raised and head tilted to the side. You snap your mouth shut.

“I’m not freaking out,” you say, voice shrill. “Who’s freaking out? Not me.”

His shoulders are broad, arms muscular with thick veins meandering down. You’ve never been a fan of veins popping out but whoever this man was made it look good. You swallow over and over in a weak attempt to wet the inside of your mouth. You fail helplessly. You’re not even aware that you’re holding the first aid kit with an iron grip, knuckles aching from the pressure. His torso is completely bare now.

“I don’t have a zipper,” he says unhelpfully, unaware of you behaving straight out of a 1950s cartoon.

“I can see that.”

God, he is the weirdest stray you ever brought over.

He points at the box, “So do you actually know how to use what’s inside or were you just bluffing when you said you were a nurse?”

“A nurse in training,” you quip. “And no, I wasn’t bluffing.”

With great strength, you finally drag your eyes down his torso. There’s a splatter of blood, some of the drops rubbed into his skin and the crimson trail is followed up by a giant slash across his stomach. The bleeding had stopped which was a good sign. You lean closer, your fingers fiddling with the box at the same time, narrowing your gaze you notice the wound is deeper than you had initially thought.

“Whoever it was that attacked you got you good,” you murmur. Without a second thought, you slide off the coffee table and kneel in front of him, you miss the glint in his eyes as he looks down, miss the way he spreads his legs so you can fit better.

“How do you know it wasn’t me who attacked them?”

The rough tone of his voice prompts you to look up. For someone who’s been stabbed, he’s eerily calm. His arms are spread over the backrest, chest slowly rising up and down as his eyes flit across your face, searching. The muscle in his jaw twitches, lips stretching into something resembling a snarl. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of where you are, the position you’re in. The sound of danger rings in your ears—you don’t even know this man’s name. Your breath catches in your throat, stomach jumping. You don’t know why you initially felt so comfortable with him, as if you were long-lost friends, but you aren’t. You were being reckless.

“Scared?” he asks, venomous, hunching over your frame, caging you in. Heat radiates from his thighs, a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping your insides. He hooks two fingers under your chin, lifts your head up. Your bottom lip quivers. “You should be. You live in a dangerous world.”

“And you don’t?” you counter, your voice barely above a whisper, your words hanging in the air, challenging his assertion. The question slips out before you can fully comprehend its weight, and you see his jaw tighten as he ponders for an answer.

You meticulously cleanse the wound, removing dirt and debris with steady hands. The sting of antiseptic fills the air, intermingling with the charged atmosphere. You’re not shy with the way you touch him, a simmering annoyance warming your gut. He can take it, you think applying further pressure. He doesn’t make a sound.

The dim light of the room accentuates the harsh contours of his face, and his piercing gaze feels like it's cutting through your soul. You drag your teth against the smooth surface of the inside of your cheek. You’ve never had a patient stand this still.

Finally, just as you complete the final wrap of the bandage, he gives you an answer.

“Not the same one as you do.”

Miguel O’hara was his name. He told you just before disappearing into the neon lights of the dark and cold city. You didn’t think much of it, you were sure you wouldn’t be seeing him again, which meant remembering his name was useless.

But your mind wouldn’t let him go. You tasted his name in the dark hours of the night, hand between your legs, coming as you thought of scenarios where instead of dousing his wound in antiseptic, you took his cock into his mouth, helping him in a different way. His suit left little to the imagination and now that your imagination roamed free, you’re glad that it was.

Convinced that he’ll never show up again, you continue on normally, half in fear due to the chaos around you, trying to do your best.

That was until he did show up.

You step out of the shower, water trickling down your skin, softened by the warm steam. The towel hangs loosely around your chest, on the verge of slipping off. You never quite mastered the art of securing it tightly, but living alone means you don't have to worry about walking around naked if it happens to fall off.

The window cracks open, cold air seeping through, chilling your freshly warmed body. Tension instantly builds in your body, your eyes slowly moving to the window. You see him then. Miguel. He pushes the window open and climbs in, not saying a word. You hold the towel tightly around you—a dream, you think, it has to be.

With quick, large steps, he crowds your space, forcing your back against the wall. The air is knocked from your lungs, your throat convulsing with a sudden panic. He’s not touching you.

“M-Miguel,” you whisper. “I didn’t—I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Neither did I,” he answers, large hands cupping your waist and pinning you to the wall. “I’m tired,” he adds, words dropping from his lips more like a punch than a plea. Like someone is squeezing the words out of him.

“What do you need?”

His eyes drop to your lips, a hungry gaze that sends shivers up your spine. You hold your breath. He’s so close, close enough that you feel his breath on your damp skin. He tilts his head to the side, eyes closing.

“I need to not think,” he answers painfully slow, tasting every word. “I need to not feel. I need to not worry. I need to disappear for a while.”

Miguel takes a long, languid breath. Filling his lungs with the scent of your watermelon body wash. His tongue pokes from between his lips, moving over the bottom one. “Can you give me that?”

His fingers tighten, the soft fabric of your towel bunching in his palm, you swear you feel the bite of nails despite the fluffy exterior. Your eyes search his. You know nothing of him. Only his name that he’d begrudgingly given you. Your pulse quickens, the rush of blood loud in your ears. He’s not here for you, that’s something you need to keep in mind before going any further. He’s here for the release, for the simple act of having another’s warmth surrounding him. You’re an escape. Something simple and easy he doesn’t have to think about when he runs off to deal with whatever he deals with.

After seconds that feel like hours, you decide you want to give that to him. You don’t mind the hurt you’ll feel after. Letting him take what he wants knowing that’ll affect you more than him. Something about him makes you not care.

“I can,” you breathe, instinctively searching for his lips with your own. “Do your worst Miguel O’hara.”

You drop the towel, damp fabric pooling at your ankles. His eyes widen briefly before smiling something wicked. His forehead touches yours, nose brushing your own as his lips ghost an inch away. Your breath catches in your throat, the need growing between your legs. A chuckle drops from his lips reminding you of gravel. You don’t share his humor, you just want to feel him.

“You don’t want my worst,” he grunts. “You’ll break.”

“I won’t.”

He scoffs but doesn’t argue. Miguel doesn’t attempt to probe you wrong, breaking things is meant to have consequences. You either try to fix it or ponder over what you’ve done, he wants none of that. Instead, he presses flush against you, body firm in contrast with the soft swell of your chest and stomach. Your nipples tighten. He crashes into you, tongue hungrily slipping between your lips as his mouth moves greedily. You feel hands on your chest, kneading, squeezing, pinching. You moan into his mouth, he swallows the sounds, grinding himself hard into you. You’re shaking, his body suffocating.

“If I touch you,” he says into your mouth, fingers skimming the outside of your thighs. “Will you be soaked for me?” With a whimper, you nod. He grins, canines looking sharper compared to what they did before, “Such a good little slut,” he growls.

Contrary to what he’d said, he doesn’t slip his fingers between your legs to see if you’re telling the truth. Instead, he slots his thick thigh between your bare legs, pushing the muscle up until you’re left gasping, your hands flailing as you wrap them around his broad shoulders. The pressure makes you dizzy, the fabric of his suit softer than what you expected, a delicious friction over your aching clit. You moan openly into his neck, teeth scraping against the vein.

“I’m going to fuck you like this,” he murmurs. “Up against the wall,” his suit fades away, cock hard against the soft planes of your stomach. You shudder as precome smears over the skin. He continues, licking your lips. “Then up against the window, want you to be loud. Want you to scream and tell me to take. . .”

The emphasis on the “t” sends a million tiny needles biting into your skin. Your chest heaves with the brush of his lips, you want to feel it again, the plush feeling of faux softness on your mouth. But he doesn’t give you that. He smiles a cruel smile, one that chills your skin but lights a fire in the pit of your stomach. He tilts his head.

“And take. . .”

You chase his lips, he refuses to give you what you want.

“And take. . .”

Your frustration grows, a desperate sound twists through you, and your fingers curl around his neck, knitting through his hair as you give the curls a warning tug. He doesn’t seem to be affected in the slightest. He drags his lips down your neck, hitches your one thigh up his hip, and positions his length against you. He doesn’t look at you, nor say another word. He fills you with one hard thrust, knocking you back against the wall, your body sliding up the rough interior. The stretch of him lingers on the line of being painful. There’s a bite to it, but also a deep pleasure that makes your legs shake.

“So fucking wet,” he rasps, sinking his teeth into your neck. It feels sharp enough that you think he breaks the skin, blood filling his mouth, but that’s not the case. The feeling quickly passes when his mouth crashes into yours in a messy kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, he doesn’t care. He takes what you give him and he does so violently, splitting you into two with every thrust.

He grabs handfuls of your hips, lifting you off the wall before slamming you back down with renewed fervor. He angles each thrust to the point of almost pain. You cry out, a long, desperate noise that almost drowns out his own, panting gruffly. You can feel the heat in your veins coursing through you as pleasure builds, the almost unbearable sensation sending you into overload. Your toes curl, your nails dig into his skin as his name leaves your lips in a plea for him to not stop. His hands grip you tighter as his movements become more violent, eyes locked together as they both reach the brink of ecstasy.

The look in his eyes, the furrow of his brows, the parting of his lips, the damp curls at the base of his scalp—it does something indescribable to you. You arch your back to give more for him. All your focus narrowing on the feeling of him.

Suddenly your body strains as he stills, the thunderous rumbling of your orgasm hitting you full force as you feel yourself tighten around his shaft in an attempt to prolong the blissful pleasure. His grip slackens and you fall forward against him, boneless as you feel the last throes of your orgasm lingering in your veins. You lick the salt off his skin, your body grinding sloppily against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, still achingly hard inside of you. “Already?”

“I—I never came that quick before. . .” you answer with a slight slur of speech, you’re tingling all over.

You’re not sure but you think you see a hint of pride in those dark smug eyes, “Don’t think you’re off the hook,” he says. “You’re mine until the sun comes up.”

Miguel is a man of his word.

He fucks you up against the window, just like he said. Your breasts pressed up against the cold smooth surface as he takes you from behind. It burns. It burns yet you can only beg for more. You scream his name, fog up the window, the rough drag of his cock forcing the roll of your eyes every goddamn time. The feeling of being stretched wide never passes, each thrust like the first time.

He holds you by the nape, pushes you forward, the pressure only adding to the fire. You figure out soon he likes holding you like that. He enjoys shoving you up against things, adding to the idea that you’re just a fleeting moment and nothing more. When he pulls out you instinctively search for him with your hips. His cock lays heavy over the curve of your ass, he spreads you and presses his cock between the globes, rocking until thick ropes of come land on your back. You shudder, breathless, your vocabulary reduced to only his name.

You feel a grip on your chin and he turns you enough so that he can slot his lips against yours. Your neck aches but your part for him anyway, allowing the taste of him to flood all your senses. When he parts only a string of saliva connects you, your breathing coming in heavy pants.

A second later the world around you blurs and you quickly find yourself straddling him above the bed. The old furniture creaking in protest. You forget how nervous you would be if it were someone else, how self-conscience you would be riding a man but Miguel doesn’t give you a chance to think about it. His feet planted firmly on the bedding, he snaps his hips, burying himself deep into the tight fist of your cunt, over and over, until you’re stupid for him.

His name rips from your throat, you can’t even think of saying anything else. You attempt to muffle yourself with the back of your hand but he’s quick to yank it back down.

“No” he utters a low, guttural sound, hands coming up your back. “I said I wanted you to scream.”

He sounds unhinged, like something snapped inside of him. You feel teeth on your collarbone, nails dragging down your back, sharp, leaving long lines of irritated skin. A pleasurable pain blossoming over your skin.

You begin to unravel as you thrust your hips against him, his movements setting off white-hot sparks of pleasure like incandescent lightning. Moans rush from your lips as his name is repeated in a mantra and you cling to him desperately, your hands clawing at his back and your nails digging into his skin as you spiral ever faster into oblivion.

Miguel is relentless in the way he drives into you. You can feel him swell inside you, every thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He moves his hands to your hips, pushing and grinding against you as every muscle in his body strains.

His breathing is quick and harsh against your ear, his voice a hungry growl, “That’s it, take it. You were waiting for this, weren’t you? Hungry for a cock no matter who it belongs to.”

You can’t answer.

Miguel’s hips thrust harder, faster—his orgasm crashes through him, his hands gripping your hips painfully as he spills his hot seed deep within you. You find yourself trembling as aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you, your body feeling like electricity as you come down from the high. You clench tightly around him, your own overwhelming orgasm ripping through you, overstimulation making you cry out.

He spins you both, bringing you to lay underneath him. Miguel collapses against you, breathing heavy as his grip on you slowly relaxes. He holds you for a moment, your heart thrumming as his forehead briefly rests against yours, breaths mingling. Then, with a satisfied groan, he pulls away. You let out a hiss. It feels achingly empty.

You’re surprised when he starts pushing your legs apart, watching his spend trickling down your folds and making a mess on the sheets. He pushes globs of cum back into you with thick fingers. Your head falls, back arching into his touch. “You made such a mess,” he says, sounding almost transfixed. Cramming fingers inside of you and curling them, your body seizes.

After that, you’re not sure when he leaves. Sleep takes you and when you wake, he’s gone. No note, no message left behind. The only evidence that he was here is the ache between your legs, and the taces of him still lingering on your thighs.

You’re sure you won’t be seeing him again. He got what he came for.

The next night he’s back, climbing through the window for more.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #across the spiderverse fic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

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wyvernest · 10 months

Text

midnight cravings

pairing - miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings - smut, established relationship, unprotected piv, creampie, missionary

summary - miguel comes home late at night, needing a lot more than just sleep

a/n - i did some research on spanish pillow talk, lmk if anything is off/wrong

You're half asleep.

The room is dark and quiet. Only the cars on the boulevard can be heard in a faint echo as they slow down to turn corners at the nearby intersection, their headlights casting a fleeting flash on the bedroom ceiling.

You tilt your head on your pillow to check the time.

23:57

It's not exactly unusual that Miguel doesn't get home before midnight. His job requires a certain amount of effort, a certain amount of skill, and an equally generous amount of time.

But tonight the bed is colder. Tonight, the bedsheets and pillows fail to offer the warmth only he can provide. You drift off into a pained slumber, hugging his pillow to your chest.

And it feels like it's been seconds, only a blink in the undisturbed ambiance of the night, before your ears pick up a strangely familiar sound.

The window opens, followed by a gentle creak. The first time it happened, you had jumped out of bed in any defence you could've possibly offered yourself, heart racing and hands shaking. But after countless nights, after so many times when your boyfriend entered your apartment the way only he could do it, you've grown accustomed to it. Now, the sound brought a sweet shiver up your spine, a sense of safety and relief.

You only wish you could open your eyes, but before you thought to rise from your position on the bed, you felt the mattress sink under considerable weight. Miguel crawls close to you, settling himself behind you.

His body moulds perfectly against yours, his bare chest pressed up against your back. He moves his hand to brush a few unruly strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips grazing the side of your neck, lingering on the soft skin more than necessary. He presses himself closer and closer into you, and you relish in the feeling of his body heat invading every patch of your skin that comes in contact with him. You hum softly, a sign for him that you're aware he's there, only through the haze of heavy sleep.

His cursory hand starts caressing and touching, running over the line of your waist, swiftly sneaking underneath your shirt and finding your skin. You sigh into the pillow, his ministrations making it hard for you to resume your slumber. He drags his warm and heavy palm over the dip of your middle, reaching the side of your breast. It then retreats lower, back down to your hip, squeezing the flesh of your ass ever so slightly.

He shuffles, bringing his crotch up to the backs of your thighs, and you feel the unmistakable shape of his hard cock, grinding up against you with slow and languid rolls of his hips, as if he’s trying not to stir you from your drowsiness. You feel a familiar pressure grow and bloom between your legs, deciding that sleep is no longer an option for the time being.

Turning your head over your shoulder, you’re met with the face of a man so desperate and needy, you almost have to hold back a moan of both surprise and pride at having him head over heels for you. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss so full of want and desire that you both gasp for air in between minutes before diving right back in for more.

With his weight supported on one elbow, his free hand keeps mapping your body with such speed and undeniable craving that you push your thighs together instinctively, aiming to chase a part of the pleasure dripping and pooling into your panties. His arm wraps around your front, holding you in place, as his lips break from the kiss and travel from your flushed cheek, to your jaw, landing on your pulse point. You tilt your head to the side to grant him access to you, as he nibbles over the nape of your neck. He alters between soft, gentle pecks and bold yet careful bites, while his thigh parts yours from behind, pressing hard into your core.

Through crescending moans and mewls, you start rubbing yourself onto his muscular thigh, feeling his hot breath puffing over the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulder. The sharpness of his fangs grazing your pulse alerts you as you begin tugging at his hair with no avail.

He twists you around so that he’s on top of you fully, his mouth travelling down to your shoulder and clavicle. He’s placed himself between your quivering legs, making his intentions known by humping you slowly and steadily, at a pace that allows him to continue his assault upon your chest. His lips find your breasts as he licks and kisses the tender flesh.

Suddenly, he stops, not removing his face from your chest. He pants softly, meeting your half-lidded eyes. He inhales abruptly, and you see his pupils dilate ever so slightly.

“You’re already wet, mi amor.” You feel your face heat up at the remark. “Always so good and ready for me.” He tightens his grip, crushing you into his embrace as his body encompasses yours completely. You feel his cock twitch through the thin fabric of your panties, growing impatient.

“Only for you.” You’re interrupted by a groan as he revels in your confession and promised devotion. “Only you can make me feel this way.”

“Me estás volviendo loco.” (You’re driving me crazy)

In a quick motion, he grips your panties and rips them, the sound sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You feel the fat tip of his dick, glistening with precum, teasingly pressing against your aching cunt. He readies himself, bracing his weight on his forearms that now frame your face. His head drops into the crook of your neck, breathing laboured, raising goosebumps all over your skin.

“Let me pound this pussy before I go to sleep.”, his voice is low and rugged with lust, breath hot and deep.

You let out a moan in response, taken aback. You wiggle your hips playfully, feeling the head of his fat dick graze your wet folds. He groans lowly, biting at your neck before soothing the mark with several kisses.

“Por favor, mi vida”, and you nearly come on the spot, the plea ringing in your ears. You’re almost convinced he may have injected you with something. You’re not thinking straight. He could ask anything of you right now and you wouldn’t have the slightest bit of power to say no.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day. Couldn’t get you out of my head.” He insists, as if any more convincing is necessary. It isn’t. He just loves to rile you up, to see you as desperate for him as he is for you before he takes you.

“All I could think of was finally getting home to you. Seeing your pretty face, tasting your lips.” He keeps whispering, pressing hot, open mouth kisses up and down your neck, one of his hands groping your breast.

“Burying myself in you, feeling you clench around me.” More kisses, his cock is aligned with you, rubbing between your folds and twitching every so often.

“Miguel.”

He raises his face to lock eyes with you.

“Fuck me raw.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He enters you, inch by agonising inch, and as he bottoms out you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms curl around his shoulders, feeling the rigid muscles of his back as they shift when he starts rolling his hips. You’re completely engulfed in his shadow, and all you can see is him.

Stretched to the limit, you throw your head back into the softness of the pillows as he picks up his pace, jackhammering his cock into the damp warmth of your cunt. His talons dig into the cushion as his face contorts into pure, unfiltered pleasure. You look down to catch the way his abdomen flexes with every thrust he delivers, the way the length of his dick disappears inside you with a wet squelch each time.

He falters for a fraction of a second, eyes rolling back before he changes the angle of his thrusts, finding your sweet spot. You feel your high starting to build up as he maintains his rhythm, grabbing onto his biceps as he drills his heavy cock into you, chasing his climax. You moan out his name, constricting around him, and he groans shamelessly, dropping his face back into the crook of your neck, panting.

“Ay, mierda” he rasps into the shell of your ear, and you bring one hand into his silky, dark hair, pushing him closer into your embrace.

“Está apretadito” (it’s tight), he nearly whimpers at the way you clench around his cock, his lips latching onto your pulse point once again, in an attempt to stifle his moans.

Your whole body quivers at the sound of his groans and muffled curses, as you finally feel yourself on the edge of ecstasy. You close your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him whole.

His pace stutters at the action.

“Inside, ah-, I want you– inside, shit”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he drives himself into you, hard and fast. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, prolonged by his continuous thrusts. All your senses zoom in on him, the smell of him, the sight of his broad frame towering over you as he fucks you, the sound of his breathing and the praises he whispers into your neck.

The bed shakes and creaks under his weight as he comes, filling you with his release. You pulse around him, forcing a strangled moan out of his throat before he collapses on top of you.

You’re floating, even with his whole body dormant upon yours. With a hand, you mindlessly massage his scalp while he returns to his senses. His arms seek to find your waist, effectively wrapping around you in a nearly suffocating hold. But you don’t mind.

“We should get cleaned up.”, he mumbles lowly, muffled by the pillows and your neck altogether. However, you feel his body relax completely, an incontestable sign that he’s already too far gone to get up anymore. You’re well aware of how tired he can be at times and how his love for you had been the only thing providing energy for the past minutes, because otherwise, he would have been out cold by now.

So you hold him, as he holds you, drifting off into well earned, blissful rest.

#miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters

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winniethewife · 3 months

Text

Puzzle cube (Steven Grant x F!reader)

A/n: Requested by @summonthesoups A while ago, Finally got it how I wanted it. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: Smut under the cut Cock warming, Orgasm denial, edging, PinV Praise kink, sub!Steven,

Words: 522

“Come on Baby, you can do it.” She softly coos as she sat straddled on his lap, His cock buried deep inside her as she stayed absolutely still, Holding him hostage as he whines softly trying to focus on the puzzle.

“Lovie….Please this…Ngh…Its…bloody hell” Steven babbles as he tried desperately to solve the colorful cube, he turns the cube and grunts, his cock twitches inside her, he lets out another whine as he figures out that the next step was right in front of him. “Damn cube. Just…ah. That’s…oh gods” Steven couldn’t help but mumble out loud. She looks at him with a devilish smile on his her face, Just as He was starting to figure out the puzzle she started to rock back and forth, drawing a soft moan from Steven.

“Look at you baby. Such a mess. You wanna fuck me baby? You want this? Yeah?” She teases and taunts him as she moves on his cock. Rolling her hips into his. Steven can’t resist, he thrusts up in to her as he whimpers and moans. She stops moving and pulls away slightly hovering over him as she tuts disapprovingly. “Ah, finish the puzzle baby.”

“P-please, Love I-I can’t its…I need you please.” Steven whines and tried desperately to move back into her, frustrated as she pulls away.

“C’mon Steven I know you can do it, Look you’ve almost got it already.” She comforts him, reaching over to touch his face, tracing his pouty lips with the tip of her finger. He looks at her with those dark eyes, letting out a frustrated moan.

“A’right. I can do it, just, can you sit on my cock again. want to feel you ‘round me love.” He pleads with her. She gives him a smile and sinks back down on him. He sighs, slightly more satisfied and focuses back on the cube in his hands, a few more twists and… “There! I got it! look!” Steven shows her the solved cube with glee. She gives him a smile.

“Good boy.” She starts to move and Steven sighs in relief, putting the cube aside and grabbing her hips as he starts to thrust in to her, moaning as he chases his release inside her. after nearly an hour of teasing and holding back it doesn’t take long at all for him to coat her insides with his spend, his mouth open in a silent cry as he sakes slightly. She leans over and leaves a trail of kisses on his jaw, all the while praises leave her lips in a whisper soft voice “That’s my good boy, So good for me, you waited so long, so good Baby. So fucking good.” He couldn’t help but feel excited as she praised him, his cock starts to harden again. He looks into her eyes and whimpers slightly, he starts to buck up into her again, eager to go again.

“Please, Lovie. I want you again. Want to cum again, Please.” He begged. She sat up and gave him a mischievous look. Grabbing the cube and mixing it up again before handing it to him. “Again”

Masterlist

Tags: @silver-night-m

#moon knight #steven grant #x reader #moon boys #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #request #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #oscar issac characters #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac hernandez estrada #oscar issac smut #steven with a v #steven grant x reader

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wriitingwoes79 · 11 months

Text

Careful, He Bites

Miguel O’Hara x Hispanic!Reader

Summary: You’re FWB with the ever-elusive vigilante Spider-Man (2099) who unfortunately, for you, is not too fond of being ghosted.

Content Warnings: dom!Miguel, sub!reader, face sitting, biting, overstimulation, webfluid!bondage, dirty talk (and in español también !!🤭)

WC: 645 (ik ik it’s short my bad lol)

AN: heavily unedited and my Spanish is rusty (gotta love being a no sabo puerto rican ) so I apologize for that!! part 2 maybe? who knows lol

MDNI!!!

Your phone buzzed on the bedside table, your roommate’s photo and caller ID popping up. In your current state, you would just have to let the call go to voicemail—it’s not like you would be able to answer now or any time soon, anyways.

Especially since your thighs were bound by thick muscular arms (and ropes of webfluid) while Miguel’s tongue and lips flicked and sucked over your clit hungrily. The obscenely wet sounds emanating from your thighs held much more sway than the buzzing phone to your right.

Wave after wave of pleasure lapped over you as Miguel forced orgasm after orgasm from you. Your thighs shook around his head, and you squirmed as you felt the familiar rise of arousal leading towards another release.

“Ah!” You cried as you felt Miguel’s teeth lightly rake over your clit, quivering from the sensation. It was a warning from him: take it.

Sit there and take it.

Dios mío, you absolutely couldn’t take another orgasm—your clit was beyond sensitive, overly aware of every rough flick and wet swirl of his tongue as he licked up everything that dripped from between your thighs. His soft groans didn’t help the situation either, soft vibrations from his lips and throat running along your now-aching pussy.

Miguel’s hand tightened on your thighs, hard enough that you were sure the marks would be there by the time you made it back to your apartment.

This had to be a punishment, you thought. How orgasms could even be considered a punishment you didn’t know but you knew the roughness, the little care for how much you ached (despite the overflow of pleasure) had to be some sort of retaliation.

Sure, you hadn’t talked to Miguel in over a week, and sure, you had a blind date with a coworker of your roommate’s but that was nothing! Miguel was just a nice little friends with benefits.

Well…a vigilante friend with benefits.

A vigilante who swung you into his apartment, tearing your panties off with his fanged teeth and trapped you over his face without even taking his suit off—he’d merely lifted the mask up to free his lips and tongue for your torment. You hated how much it turned you on to see his lips and the tip of his nose peeking out from the blue and red suit material.

The orgasm rising in you once more was enough cause for you to squirm more, trying to ease off the side of his face. Miguel’s grip tightened and his lips left from your clit to trace your inner thigh. In seconds, his teeth—his fangs specifically, gripped the soft fleshy part of your inner thighs and pain sparked there. He bit, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to keep you as still as you could manage.

Hard enough to leave marks for you to find later.

“No te muevas,” he growled against you, his lips finding your clit once more, “you can take it, amor.” You whined at the sensation, his lips and gruff voice against your sensitive pussy, the way the ‘r’ in “amor” rolled so delicately off his tongue and onto your clit.

“Puedes hacer uno más,” he said and continued to devour you as if it were the only sustenance he needed to survive. Within seconds, the orgasm came bursting from you, your thighs dripping desire and release which Miguel lapped up with ease. Your entire body shook from the effort and you slumped over, legs tangled on Miguel’s shoulders from the ties still taut and biting into your skin.

Your phone buzzed again and Miguel eased himself you, pulling you free from the webfluid ties without a second thought. He picked up your phone, answering it and held it to your ear,

“Tell her you won’t be coming home just yet, cosita linda. I’m not finished with you.”

#marvel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man smut #spider man 2099 #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac characters #plus sized y/n #y/n #hispanic!reader #hispanic!y/n #dom!miguel o’hara #sub!reader #marvel

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mandowifey · 10 months

Note

i just read your miguel o’hara fic and it’s beautiful.

so i found out that when he bites his prey, his fangs have paralyzing venom and i was thinking about him being obsessed with reader who tries to ignore him, but eventually he becomes impatient and uses his venom on them and all they can do is moan and take him (with a sprinkle of breeding kink🤭).

sorry if this is too much and makes you uncomfy

WAH, thank you so much! ❤️

(Breeding kink is my fave kink, Id never be uncomfy) I've wanted to write this for him since learning about it, it's so...hot, HAHA.

P.s: this turned into arguably the longest Miguel x reader fic I have ever done 💀

× × ×

Dominion

Miguel O'hara x Fem!Reader

This is part of a nonlinear storyline.

Warnings; NSFW, extreme noncon/dubcon (reader is paralyzed from Miguel's bite), dark!Miguel, stalker!Miguel, PiV sex, unsafe sex, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, praise, taunting, general bad themes. Reader is a virgin in this.

× × ×

When Spider-man saved a bus full of children on a collapsing bridge, the world cheered. What the news outlets and fanatics fail to see are the people who are not rescued. Your family had been on the bi-monthly trip down state when the bridge had been attacked. They were one of the cars that went down with the initial rubble. There was no big heroic moment, no surprise rescue, or hero swooping in the last minute to save them all. On that day, you lost everyone you ever cared about and came to hate Spider-man.

Miguel O'hara understood a lot of things about this world. In fact, he understood a lot of things about a lot of worlds. There was synchronicity between the universes, such as Spider-man being the hero and getting the girl. What he failed to understand was how he couldn't get you.

It was a Thursday evening, and he was fighting Rhino in the open street. As the leader of the Spider-Society, Miguel didn't often get to run around and handle crime. Seeing an opportunity to release some frustration and get some air, he'd left Jess in charge to patrol the city. Cue, the bad guy showing up and their all-out, property destroying brawl. During the back and forth with his opponent, Rhino had picked up a small car above his head and chucked it. When Miguel dodged, the car hit the road, rolled, then skidded into a light pole as the engine burst into flames.

As he turned to lunge, he heard you.

Screaming, inside that car.

Duty to civilians was more important than apprehending a criminal. Still, he hesitated before, inevitably snarling and prowling towards the car. With his strength, Miguel lifted and shoved the pole to the side before he walked around to the front. Inside the glass was you. Small compared to him, bloodied from the glass and impact but still shouting. What confused him was the way your fearful expression twisted into a look of pure disdain once you two spotted each other. Regardless, he'd broken the windshield and pulled you out.

"You alright?"

Nothing.

Not a word.

As you wipe glass from your clothes, the masked crusader lingered in your presence, perturbed. Miguel did not do this for 'thank yous' and pats on the back for a job well done. He did it because, as a hero, it was the right thing to do. Certainly enough, people in the world hated him, and he could accept that. When you looked up at him finally, blood had run trails down your forehead and cheeks, painting you like some warrior of the macabre. The man wonders if the head injury had affected your brain.

"Go sit down, an ambulance is sure to be here."

Silence.

Miguel catches your eyes as they glint beneath flickering street lamps. There is something about the way you look at him that unsettles him. You stare at him as though you are judging his soul, like you could possibly know the wrongs he's done and lives he's lost. Anger blossoms within his chest, and he feels his muscles tense. This was not something he experienced around most citizens. After what feels like a decade passes between you, your eyes lower, and you turn away. Standing and watching, Miguel observes your limp as you hobble towards the sidewalk and sit.

Left to stand amidst the ruins of his run-in with Rhino, O'hara draws in a steady breath. Lyla pings, showing him the location of the villain, and he sets off to track him down. He found himself distracted by thoughts of you that night. Those burning, scornful eyes and those lips that pressed so tightly together.

The thoughts of you did not stop there.

Days of obsessing turned into weeks. Miguel had pulled your information from the local PD database and had started stalking you shortly after. He had learned your routines, your job, and where you liked to go out to eat with friends. You weren't busy during the work week and usually spent the weekends catching up on chores or TV shows. His favorite was perching in your fire escape and watching you do laundry. You were beautiful, oblivious too, and he liked that.

You two had a close call when he decided to get brave.

It was a late Saturday, and you had run out to the store last minute for some missing ingredients. Miguel had been watching your evening unfold and followed not far behind, even going as far as to track you inside the grocery. Mask-less, he loitered around shelves just in view and watched as you hurried around to grab eggs and flour. An older woman had pulled his attention, asking him if he could retrieve something from a high shelf for her. Though reluctant, he'd obliged, which had cost him his line of sight on you.

Urgently rounding a corner to attempt to locate you, Miguel hadn't been paying attention. Fate made you turn the same isle, and if not for his inhuman reflexes, you two would have collided. He stops himself just before impact and steps back while you gasp and touch your chest from being startled. "Sorry," you mutter, not bringing your eyes up to look at him. Miguel doesn't say anything as you skirt around him in a rush. He was frozen, having been so close to you and nearly caught in the act. You hadn't realized who he was and what he was doing, and that thrilled him.

After that day, Miguel decided he could wait no longer.

The next Friday, you were returning home from a late night at work. Clothes disheveled and eyes heavy, you fumbled to get your door unlocked and stepped into the dark. Before your fingers could brush the light switch, something hit you from the side and clapped over your mouth. You're aware of being attacked, and while your screams are muffled, you flail and kick and thrash, throwing your weight around to try and make it difficult for your assailant. His grip is like iron, and you hear him laugh, his breath fanning your neck. A drag of something warm and wet along your throat made you tense, and you scream suddenly as your flesh is punctured by teeth.

Miguel moans at the burst of blood across his tongue. You taste sweeter than he could have imagined, and he relishes your flavor. Closing his eyes, he releases his venom into your body while holding you into him. Your thrashing continued, even while the paralyzing agent pumped through your veins. He knew it wouldn't take long and indulged himself by withdrawing his teeth and sucking at the puncture holes they left. Blood smears across his lips, and he groans again, lapping at you like a starving animal. Miguel had imagined what you'd taste like, and this exceeded all expectations.

As you fell limp, Miguel licked his lips clean and scooped you into his strong arms. He'd been inside your home before, while you were asleep or away with work. Carrying you to the bedroom, he nudged the door open with his foot and placed you on top of your bed. Your eyes were closed, having fallen unconscious not long after he injected you. The man takes his time, propping your head up and removing your clothes until you are left in nothing but a tank top and underwear. Admiring his work, Miguel smiles to himself and steps away to give you time to wake up. He wanted you conscious for this.

When you woke, you were aware immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes stared across your room, darting around in your skull as the memory of being attacked came back to you. As you tried to sit up, you found that you couldn't. You utter a soft whimper, trying once again to raise your arms, but they only twitched and remained flat on the bed. Heart starting to pound, you look around and try to rationalize. This had to have been a bad dream, and you were stuck in some sort of sleep paralysis. Your eyes closed, and you drew in a shaking breath, telling yourself that if you fell asleep, it would be okay.

Everything was dark, save for the stripes of moonlight that stretched across your bedroom. Your door, wide open like a gaping, black mouth, and your closet door sealed shut. You felt unease build as you forced your eyes to the bedroom door again, then gasped. Red dots hovered six feet off the ground in the hallway. Transfixed, you didn't dare blink as the dots grew in size, coming towards you.

This had to be a dream.

This could not be real.

Slowly, a man emerges from the doorway and stops at the edge of your bed. His eyes red like coals, shoulders broad, and hips tapered. He was tall, brooding, and looked very real. The two of you stare at one another, unblinking. After a moment, his eyes lose their color, and his stoic demeanor breaks. Miguel was giddy. He couldn't deny it. A perfectly healthy young woman with a scent that told him you two were a perfect match genetically. He couldn't have been luckier.

A sound builds in your chest. You would be screaming if your mouth could move. The man before you raises his brows and smiles. "I wouldn't try it," He hums, "You're going to be like this for another couple hours. There is no need to panic. It will wear off and you'll be just fine." Lifting his large hands, he brings them to his chest. "I must say I'm a little offended. I knew certain folks didn't like me, but it appears you might even hate me." Miguel smirks into his words, giving you a glimpse of his fangs.

"I went through your phone." He tacked on. "I know it's rude, but I wanted to know you a little better. Y/N, works downtown, lost your family in a tragic incident where I couldn't save the day." His clothes rippled with light and slowly peeled away until he stood only in boxer shorts.

Horror seeps into your bones, and you cry. Tears dribble down your temples as you lay there at his mercy. Lips quivering, you try again to speak, but no words come. It slowly dawned on you that he had told you indirectly who he was. What happened to Spider-Man being the good guy? Nausea creeps inside your guts, a cold rush of dread rising under your skin. It shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't be real, but there he was.

Miguel wore a smile. He could observe the gears churning in your brain while you fought your own body. The smell of your feel was palpable to him, causing his other instincts to shudder. It had taken every ounce of strength not to feed on you, and now, with you limp and pliant, he could feel that familiar itch prickling up his spine. Luckily for you, he'd taken his injection not long before arriving in your home. With the other half tempered, Miguel had all the time in the world.

“Of all the people to be in their car that night, it just had to be you.”

Your fingers twitch as your brain screams. No matter how hard you tried or how loud your voice was in your head, your body was not listening. Helplessly watching him climb onto the bed above you, you close your eyes. Miguel sits back on his legs and places a large, warm hand on your shin.

“I guess fate always has a way of working out.” he prompted, pushing his fingers over your knee and gradually along your thigh. Your skin crawls, itching under his touch. You wanted nothing more than to break away and kick him for touching you. Miguel can sense it, his lips twitching in an impish smile. He could tell from your scent alone how afraid you were.

“I’m sure this isn’t how every girl imagines their first time going,” He continues, and your eyes fly open. Staring up at him, the color drains from your face and your heart begins to quicken. “Yeah, I figured.” Miguel hums impassively as his other hand touches your opposite leg and pushes it open. His dark eyes focused on the apex of your thighs. “But don’t worry, above all else I am still a gentleman.” Flashing his teeth, Miguel curls his fingers under your knees and folds you in half. The sudden movement makes you grunt and whine. “I’m going to take good care of you, princess.” You catch him as he winks before dropping his head down.

Miguel draws a slow breath above your cunt, savoring the heady aroma of your sex. As his mouth watered, he places a soft kiss at the tip of your crease over your panties. He hums and licks a slow stripe over you, drooling into the fabric as he caught the faintest taste of your pussy. “Just as I’d hoped,” he purrs.

You were revulsed, your eyes blurry with tears as you lay helplessly below him. Your body was betraying you now, and you could feel your clit engorging with blood from arousal and knew you were beginning to leak. Miguel knew too, and he places a series of firm kisses over your covered folds before turning his head and nipping at the fat of your inner thigh.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself. Most guys I know don’t even bother with this part.”

You can feel the fabric being pulled, then torn. It was an effortless motion on his behalf, using his claws to assist in shredding the unnecessary material. With your soft cunt now exposed, Miguel sighs, his breath fanning over you. He mumbles praise in Spanish, something you don’t recognize, before he delves in. Pushing the thick tip of his tongue forward, he prods your opening before shoving inside.

A cry smothered in your chest, feeling heat rising in your face. You hated him. You hated this, but your body wasn’t cooperating with you. Miguel moans, fucking the appendage inside your heat before suddenly lapping up your cunt in quick, successive motions. The flat of his tongue drags over your swollen clit and makes you squeak.

As you crumble, he latches his mouth around the sensitive bud at the peak of your folds and begins to suck gently. His attention to detail and willingness to make you feel good had you rising against your will. Your chest heaves again, another pitiful mewl trickling from your lips as he assaults your virgin cunt. Miguel was grinding against your blankets now, the bulge in his boxers painful.

Your scent had his blood pumping and desire growing. The fact that he would be laying claim to you first thrilled him enough to bring him to leak. As eager as he was, he kept his patience with working your body, wanting to see you fall apart under him knowing the man you spent years hating had made you cum.

Soft puling cries wept from your parted lips, your eyes closed in denial. You were being pushed closer towards the edge. The suction from his lips around your clit was perfect and he pulsed gentle sucks against it. Occasionally, you’d feel the press of his tongue on the underside of it, applying light pressure while his mouth continued to suckle you. Your clit was fully engorged now, and while you couldn’t move your thighs trembled as you grew closer. It was sick, degrading even, that you would ever cum from something like this. Miguel hears you gasp quietly, and he withdraws his lips to instead lap firmly at you with the flat of his tongue. Fast, firm licks that slipped over the sensitive bud that sent jolts through your abdomen and up your spine.

The venom rendered your mind in a haze, forcing you to live consciously aware of every grueling moment. Each lash of his tongue or rumble from his throat sending you hurtling towards your peak. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, yet your body paid your mind no heed. When his tongue rolled over your engorged clit, and was followed by a gentle suck, you fell. Even with the intensity of your orgasm, the most your body could do was tense its muscles. A cry squeaks out, along with a series of sharp, mewling gasps as you tremble and seize under him. Miguel laps you lazily now, vermillion eyes staring up at you between your legs. He had done it.

Now certain he had done his part in satisfying you, Miguel lifts and crawls up your body, peppering swift kisses to your skin as he goes. He hesitated, tugging your bra down your ribs to expose you to him. The words ‘please stop’ built in your throat, yet died on your tongue. You can only watch as his eyes grow heavy and his head drops to your breast. His tongue rolls over your nipples, causing them to pebble. Miguel’s spit goes from warm, to cold, shocking your skin and making you whine again. The worst part of it all was how good he managed to make you feel. You were aghast at the fact you had just cum for this lunatic, and hated the fact he acted like he knew your body, able to apply licks and kisses in places you weren’t aware that you liked.

After he satisfied his desire for your breasts, he kisses your collar and up your throat. Miguel is going slow on purpose; you know that now. He was relishing in the control he had over you, knowing that you wanted nothing more than to tell him to go to hell. Now hovering over your own, Miguel ghosts his lips against yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me.” He purrs. “You sound so pretty when you cum, princess.” The smile that follows his filth tugs your stomach and fills you with embarrassment. Noticing your tears, Miguel tuts and kisses your forehead. “No need to cry, this part is easy. I’ll make sure to start slow.” The way you whimpered made the devil in him purr.

Miguel takes your legs and parts them as he sits back against his own. He enjoys the view of your spread form while he removes his boxers and tosses them on the floor. From the angle, you can see the spring of his cock. Fear makes you go cold at the sight. He was long, thick, bigger than anything you’d seen before. For a moment, you wonder if it were going to fit at all. Miguel closes a fist around his base and strokes himself twice as he lines up against you. “Big breath, kiddo.”

You realized too late that his venom that left you paralyzed had also weakened your muscles. When you tried to clench and fight his insertion, your body did nothing more than twitch. Smiling, Miguel nudges the fat, weeping tip of his cock into you and he grunts. “Dios-“he sighs, biting his lip while he trained his eyes in the spot you two connected.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” There is a flash of teeth as he edges himself inside. The stretch is excruciating, especially for your first time. Miguel’s cock was relentlessly thick, filling you to a capacity you didn’t know you had. Hearing the curling whimpers in your chest, he stops and looks down at you thoughtfully. “Almost there, you’re doing great.” You feel revulsed when he winks at you.

The venom kept your body relaxed, making it easier for him to violate you. As he eases inside, you see stars as he presses somewhere deep within you. Miguel’s pubic bone pushes against your swollen clit as he bottoms out, groaning salaciously at the squeeze of your cunt around him. His large hands find their way onto the back of your knees, and he guides one of your legs over his broad shoulder.

“I bet you thought it wouldn’t fit,” he taunts, smiling and biting his lip as he begins to slowly draw back. Miguel’s cock grinds every nerve in your canal, setting fireworks off beneath your skin and making you shriek and grunt in the back of your throat. You hated how full he made you feel.

With a firm jut of his hips, Miguel sinks inside of you and groans as your pelvises collide. He curses again, repeating the motion before lowering himself to cage your body under his own. “Take it,” He gasps, his head dropping to your neck. His breath pants across your skin, warming you further as he drives his cock home. The man begins to rabbit himself inside of you, using your pussy as he saw fit and throwing any concern for your lack of experience to the wind. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t had time to properly stretch, you were his now and meant to be taken. “G-good girl,” he pants, licking over the bruising bite mark he left on the nape of your neck. “S-so s-shocking good.” He laughs dryly, biting you once more without penetrating your skin. Pain blooms in your shoulder and you whine, your eyes closing as you see spots.

Miguel’s pace is relentless. He pounds into you with reckless abandon, bouncing your smaller body repeatedly up the bed and making your shitty mattress creak noisily. It felt as though the air was being forcefully shoved from your lungs, his cock spearing inside with such strength you think he may break your pelvis. The worst was the way he praised you, rumbling as you took him, calling you his good girl over and over. You were rising again, once more against your will as your attacker defiled you.

“That’s it, t-that’s it.” He gasps. Miguel was coming closer to the edge with each thrust, knowing he’d never be the same after this night; after finding you. He whimpers against your throat, the sound pathetic for a man with his strength. You see stars as he ruts sloppily, his thrusts uneven as he came apart above you. Ramming his cock to the root, the man shudders and growls, his muscle rippling as his cock throbbed and began to empty. The hot, heavy spurts of cum impacting and oozing against your cervix, coating your insides. While he slowed, his stomach pressed and ground just right against your clit, making you whimper much quieter this time. You throb, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you flutter and squeeze weakly around him. Miguel grunts again, then smiles impishly against your throat.

“Not so bad for a first time, huh?”

Sitting up, Miguel pecks a kiss to your lips before sitting back on his legs and casting his attention downwards. He watched as he began to withdraw from you, his cock coated in your joined fluids. There was a deeply sickening tremor of satisfaction as he watched his cum begin to dribble out. A part of him hoped his seed would take; he was certain you’d be just as beautiful with your belly swollen. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see his face. At least, you reason, it was over, and he would leave, and you could try to pick the pieces of yourself back up.

Miguel hummed, slipping off the bed and pulling on his boxers as he steals a look around your room. Once dressed, his suit reformed around his body in a glimmer of hard light. All but his mask. “Alright, let’s get you dressed and ready for the trip home.” Ice floods your veins and the nausea returned. Your eyes open and try to focus on him as the room begins to spin. “What? You thought this was just some random encounter?” His lips stretch into a smile as he holds his hands out. “First of all, I’m hurt, secondly, I’m going to try really hard to pack you some of your favorite stuff, I’ll supplement anything else you need.” Miguel hums as he walks to your closet in search of luggage containers.

Tears streak from your eyes and obscure your vision again. Your chest was so tight you felt certain you were going to break. He packs things for you while you panic, wanting to sob and beg him to leave, to apologize and tell him you were wrong about Spiderman. A sob escapes you as your chest shakes, your eyes closing again as you weep. Your body was sore, filled to the brim with this man’s fluids, and you knew you’d never be clean or safe again. Miguel glances at you from over his shoulder and smiles anyways.

You would learn to love him.

He just knew it.

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blue-sadie · 4 months

Text

The Different Versions

Masterlist

Oscar Isaac Characters: Moon System, Marcus, Shiv, Basil Stitt, Jonathan Levy, Llewyn Davis, William Tell, Cecil Dennis, Robbie Paulson, Outcome 3 (David), Santiago Gracia, Kane, Nathan Bateman, Leto Atreides, Poe Dameron, Peter Malkin, Bassam, Prince John, Orestes, Laurent Leclaire, Oscar Isaac

Preview

Prt 1. The Ones I Don't Remember Summary: waiting is more tiring then being together, what changed was it you or him?

Prt 2. The Bad Influence Summary: waking up in an unknown place untouched by wounds and another version of your husbands

Prt 3. The Slick Back Summary: waking up in a small apartment in Moscow it reminds you of something and someone

Prt 4. The Lonely Summary: waking up in an modern apartment with a strange but nice neighbor who likes to wear a bag over his head

Prt 5. The Married Summary: waking up in a classroom being taught by... marc?

Prt 6. The Musician Summary: waking up at 00:31 in the morning and not being able to fall asleep maybe water will help right or something... else

Prt 7. The Focused Summary: waking up in a room with another version of your husbands but he's so much like them

Prt 8. The Revengeful Summary: waking up on yours and your doppelgangers shared birthday and getting the best gift ever

Prt 9. The Accused Summary: waking up by someone pulling you out of bed is a rude awakening so he just puts you to bed very nicely

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dreamingofbucky · 10 months

Text

THE REPORT

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: You failed to report to Miguel after a mission and he makes it a living hell for you. to teach you a lesson, he makes you meet him after everyone's gone home and has a special punishment just for you.

tags/content warnings: slow burn til it isn't, grumpy!miguel, cockwarming like that's the whole plot, consensual smut. p in v. fangs. praise kink, size kink. age gap (reader is 20, mig is almost 30 idk). reader is a sister figure to gwen.

Word Count: 6.1k

author’s note: not beta read. this was so fun to write! hope you enjoy <3

Living in Spider Society was chaotic, but you loved it. You enjoyed it so much, but there were times you liked to visit other universes and even your own. You haven’t been back to your own universe in months due to work though.

You’ve been to Gwen and Hobie’s ones countless times, even stayed multiple nights. Albeit you being a few years older than them, about to turn 21, they were your closest friends in Spider Society. They got your humor, they understood your mess, and they’d fight for you.

With Jessica Drew being older and busy with her own relationship, and then Peter B Parker with MJ and Mayday, you were glad you had these Spiderteens to hang with. You felt like an older sister to them sometimes which helped with the whole identity crisis you had the first month moving to Earth-928 and feeling so alone.

And then there was Miguel. He was technically your boss and he was so cold, so standoffish toward you. Even after he recruited you, you’ve seen him less and less around missions unless you had to go to his office to report any difficulties with anomalies. You felt miniscule under his gaze most times. But then… even as much as you hated to admit how he made you feel though at random times when you felt his gaze linger a little longer than normal.

It’s probably been a week since the last time you had to go up to his office to relay a report, yet the grumpy man’s eyes were everywhere in Earth-928. You felt his eyes everywhere. Your spider senses went haywire whenever you felt him near. But it was more than just a tingle to you. It was a strange feeling you couldn’t pin down. But you brushed it off anytime that specific feeling came around.

You did have some hard times though in this new universe you called home. You had your own Peter back in your own universe until he passed. It was your canon event, after all. Something you still hated thinking about.

It was hard at first acclimating to Spider Society seeing so many Peter Parkers. Yours wasn’t Spider-Man, since you were the one in your universe, but the name was hard to adjust to hearing all the time, every day at work. That was the one thing you and Gwen had in common which was why you both were glued to the hip most of the time like real sisters.

Some might say it’s just trauma bonding, but you did ultimately feel like Gwen was like a younger sibling to you at this point. And no one really understood the hard adjustment to Spider Society like she did. It was comforting.

“You’re thinking again,” Gwen says, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her pink-blonde hair fell in front of her face as she busied herself with a journal. She liked to journal a lot more recently ever since she’s been spending more time with Miles.

You remembered her mentioning when she saw him after a year apart that she found his own journal of doodles. It was so obvious the crush she had on him, but you didn’t push or ask any questions.

A smile comes to your face as you see her doodling nonsense. You couldn’t admit that she wasn’t the best artist, but you let her have her vice whenever Miles was busy and off on different missions or even back in his universe to finish school. His parents still didn’t know he was Spider-Man, so he wasn’t around Spider Society as often as Gwen would like.

“No,” you counter. “Just letting my mind rest. Had a long week.”

Gwen’s bright eyes drifted up from the journal before a smile etched on her face. “Did you send your latest report to Miguel yet?”

Your spine stiffened at the sound of his name. “No, why? Was I supposed to? I thought Hobie was in charge of that this week?”

Sometimes Gwen, Hobie, and you would rock-paper-scissors whoever did the reports for the week. This week was supposed to be Hobie’s.

Gwen shakes her head. “No, I clearly remember Hobie mentioning it’d be you. He’s not even around today.”

“Oh,” you plainly stated. She was right, he wasn’t in this universe today. Had some protest to join back in his own universe. He invited you and Gwen, but you both wanted to be around in case you were needed. You urged Gwen to even spend the day with Miles, but he apparently had something to do with his parents.

Gwen whistles. “Miguel is gonna be looking for you then.”

Your eyes widened at that. “Fuck, no he can’t. I didn’t even prepare anything! We went two days ago, how am I supposed to remember each detail of what we did? Fuck, I’m going to find Hobie and–”

“Chill!” Gwen laughs. “Just go see him and let him know. Hey, maybe bringing an empanada will lessen the blow.”

You rolled your eyes at that before standing up. The room you both were in was quiet and not many spider-people were around. Gwen and you liked to come in here to either debrief, talk about Miles, or just sit in silence while she doodled and you thought.

You cherished her, you cherished every one of your spider friends. Well, except now with Hobie. Because now you’re for sure going to get a scolding from the boss man.

“Good luck,” Gwen sing-songed as you shook your head and laughed. But inside you were dying, your heart was starting to race as you left the room. You made your way through the building until you got to the elevator. The ride up was short and you even forgot the empanada.

Your fingers laced together at the front as the doors opened and you walked on the floor where his office was. It was unusually quiet. And darker than normal.

There wasn’t any big anomaly that had to be contained today or else you’d know. So where was everyone?

By the time you reached his office, you craned your neck up to see his platform high up and he was there standing, staring at a screen. He hadn’t noticed you yet, due to his inability to have spider senses, and you take your time looking at him.

His broad shoulders were facing you and you noticed his hands on his slim waist. You lick your lips at the sight. It wasn’t something you were proud of.

Call it hormones. You closed yourself off to any romantic flings or relationships the moment you moved here, but you still had those urges.

And they so happened to heighten whenever you were around the one person you shouldn’t have those urges around. Your attraction to your boss wasn’t something you expected, especially with him being a few years older than you… okay, he was definitely older. He never mentioned his age, but you overhead he was probably closer to 30. Which made him almost a decade older than you.

Your thoughts drift to a week ago when you saw him in passing. Spider-Woman was briefing you for a mission when he caught on to the conversation and halted his steps. He interrupted that conversation to scold you, letting Jess know that you wouldn’t be joining her that day.

You didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like the anomaly wasn’t someone you couldn’t handle. But you had to follow his orders and ultimately stayed back while he and the other Spiders went. Even Gwen and Hobie went.

That was a low blow on Miguel’s part. You’d at least thought he’d make the non-teens go on a mission together. You can’t remember the last time you went on a mission where Miguel was present. It felt like some days he didn’t even want you around.

As you think about Miguel, you hear shuffling up above you and you blink, brushing away the thoughts and focusing on what you had to do.

You shoot out a web to his platform and bring yourself up, landing on your feet. He finally turns at the noise and gives you a side-eye.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

Your fingers find each other again as you fumble for a response. Here goes. “I-I had that report to tell you about. I thought Hobie was going to give it, sorry for the delay.”

His shoulders rise and fall with each breath before he turns around. His hand goes in the air behind him, waving off the screens he was just looking at. You caught a glimpse of another universe and Spider people shooting webs.

He had an eye on everything.

“That was supposed to be given directly after you returned from it,” he scoffs. He takes a step toward you and you try to hold your ground. Your breathing increases and his lips twitch.

“I know! Just a simple miscommunication, that’s all,” you try to laugh it off, but his stern face is anything but finding it funny.

“Do you know what I think?” He simply asks. The hairs on your arms stand as you look at him. His eyes smooth over your face, looking all over. They stop for a brief moment a little lower, on your lips, for more than a second.

“What do you think?” You ask breathlessly.

He takes another step closer, now inches away. He’s so tall compared to you, he’s basically caging you in at this moment without even knowing. You gulp.

“You’re supposed to be an example to them.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he grimaces. “You’re older than them, yet you seem to act their age. It’s evident in the way you completely forgot to send in that report on time.”

“It happened once! And by accident! Like I said, it was because–”

“Take responsibility,” he spits. His hand goes to his hip and now you’re on the verge of hyperventilating. You didn’t expect a lecture when you came here. You expected Miguel to throw a fit, yelling at you, and then banishing you from his office within minutes. But you’re still here.

“Okay, I will,” you finally state. You feel deflated from the conversation already and you’re starting to get impatient at his obvious anger. Or annoyance. He seemed to be either angry or annoyed by you everytime you’re around.

“Okay, let’s hear it.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his elbows brushing against your chest in the process with how close he is. You take a deep breath.

“I’m taking responsibility for not giving you the report on time. I apologize, boss.”

He nods before turning on his heel and returning to his screen. You’re left confused and you even raise a brow at the odd reaction.

“Don’t you want the report now?” You ask, kicking your heel at the ground.

“No, not right now. I’m busy. Come back later.”

“But I had plans with Gwen,” you start, but he snaps his neck back at you and his eyes glow red. You stop talking immediately.

“Come. Back. Later.” He hisses, fangs showing.

“Right, will do,” you stutter out before attempting to run off that platform. Your two left feet make you trip and fall, making you have to shoot out a web to catch yourself before you planted face first on the floor below.

You didn’t dare to look up and see if Miguel saw that, you left as soon as your feet hit the ground.

By the time you went to regroup with Gwen, she wasn’t where you left her. It took you a moment to walk around the building before you found her outside, sitting and staring at the scenery. You climbed the structure she was on, upside down, before shooting out webs to anchor you, and lowering yourself and sitting next to her.

“How was it?” She asks, looking at you.

“Not so well,” you confess.

“Really? What happened?” Her eyes widen.

You shrug. “Not much, actually. I apologized and took responsibility for not giving it to him on time.”

“But? Your face looks like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” she laughs. You nudge her shoulder with yours and you frown.

“Yeah, there’s a but. He didn’t want the report. Told me to go back later tonight to give it to him.”

“That’s great!” Gwen smiles.

“How’s that great?” You ask, raising a brow. You decide to look out in front of you both and see the vast city before you. Although you’re upside down, you never get tired of the view.

“Because you have time to do the report and then give it to him, duh. You don’t have to verbally give it to him on the spot.”

“I don’t know,” you finally breathe. You place your palms behind you and lean back. Gwen does the same, mimicking you.

“You know, Jess mentioned that he’s a big softie under all that anger and macho-ness.”

“What?” You laugh, wondering why the hell she’s steering the conversation this way.

Gwen nods with a smile curling on the tips of her lips. “Yep. It kind of reminds me of those stupid sayings where if he makes fun of you, he likes you.”

Your body stiffens and you shake your head. “Gwen! What are you talking about? Miguel?”

There is nothing behind the reasons why he’s cold to you or why he’s made it seem like you aren’t worth being around. If he had any inkling of attraction toward you, you’d know. Spider sense or not.

“See tonight, then! And please let me know. I kind of made a bet with Jess… I have to win.”

You groan. “What?! You guys are betting on the most impossible thing. There is nothing there. He hates me, but like actually. There is no underlying meaning.”

“Sure,” Gwen laughs. “Anyways, Miles said he’s coming back tomorrow so we might have to raincheck on that girls night.”

“I thought that was tonight?”

“I figured we’d have to move it to tomorrow night the moment you mentioned Miguel needing to see you tonight. He’ll probably make you handwrite that damn report all night.”

You lean your head back and stare at the city above you. “Fine, raincheck. But nothing is going on, you’ll see.”

“Hmm,” is all Gwen says before you shake your head and laugh. You both stay watching the city in silence for a little longer before you go on with your day, dreading for the night to come.

***

“Miguel?” You call out into the darkness of his office. His platform is dark, with no sign of life from him or anyone.

Suddenly, you hear a fizzle in the air and then Lyla pops up into thin air. You almost yelp, hand flying to your chest.

“Hey! Miguel let me know for you to meet him in his quarters.” Lyla floats around you, disappearing and reappearing at random spots. Her pink glasses lower on the bridge of her nose as she takes a good look at you.

“His place?” You repeat, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. You’ve never been called to his quarters. He had a place of course in the city, but it was known that he’d stay multiple times a week at the floor of the building that acted as a penthouse for when he needed to be on call for anyone.

You were terrified that you did something else wrong and that’s why he decided to have this meeting in a more private location. You gulp, looking at Lyla.

“Don’t look so scared!” She laughs. “Come on!” She yells before disappearing and reappearing a few yards away closer to the elevator.

You follow with no argument before you both get into the elevator and it skyrockets a few more floors up. The elevator dings and you see Miguel in normal clothes, not his suit. It didn’t occur to you that he can wear something else besides his suit. You’ve never seen him without the suit, so this was weird.

Miguel hears your steps and he looks, a look of concern on his face. You instantly cross your arms over your chest, as if trying to hide yourself from his gaze. His eyes drift from your toes to your eyes before he looks at Lyla who appears in front of him.

“She’s here, boss,” she sing-songs before Miguel grunts.

“Thanks, Lyla. Now pause all updates unless it’s an emergency. Forward any updates to Jessica if there are any.”

“Only if you say it,” Lyla teases, twirling around Miguel’s body.

Miguel groans, rolling his eyes. “Lyla, do it.”

“Nuh uh, I need to hear it boss,” she pushes. This makes you giggle at the encounter but you shut your mouth as Miguel gives you a stern look.

“Please, Lyla,” he finally says with a bite to his words.

“Already done, boss, but I loved hearing that,” Lyla says before evaporating into thin air. The silence fills the room as you stand there, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Where’s your suit?” He finally asks, heading to the kitchen. You follow blindly, unsure what else to do.

“I-uh, didn’t think I’d need it.” You looked down at your sweats and long sleeve, wondering if you should’ve looked more presentable. It was past dinnertime, way past that to be precise, the sky was dark outside his floor to ceiling windows, so it didn’t make sense to wear anything else. You wanted to feel cozy too. The softness of the clothes calmed you a bit with the anxiety of what Miguel might say.

You tried to write the report earlier, but your mind was a mess. You’d have to apologize for that again you were sure of it.

“You didn’t, just wanted to ask,” Miguel chuckles as he reaches inside his fridge and pulls out a water bottle. He turns to you and raises it, looking at you with a questionable face. You nod as he tosses you it and you open it, taking a few sips. You hear the crack of his own and his gulping.

You didn’t realize how much of a cottonmouth you had until you started drinking the cold water.

“So the report, do you have it?” He asks, heading toward you.

“About that…” you start. His jaw clenches and his eyes go red for a moment before they go back to the pretty brown.

“You didn’t do it?”

You shake your head, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “No, I-I tried to. I swear, I can do it right now, just let me get my computer or a pen and paper.”

That’s when he laughs again. You’ve never heard him laugh before. It was like music to your ears. Your heart picks up its pace at the sound and the way his eyes crinkle at the motion. His teeth bare with the laugh and you notice the fangs popping out.

An inappropriate thought of him sinking them into you comes to the forefront of your mind and you suck in your breath and clench your thighs together. He pinches his brows, looking at you at the sudden sound you swore he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Ven aquí,” he beckons as he waves you over to the other end of the place where a living room holds a few couches. The place isn’t decorated and it looks like it was just created as something to show, not live in. He sits on the edge of the couch and you walk over to him, keeping a few inches away.

You can practically feel his body heat emanating and your body betrays you as your knees get wobbly and you have to clear your throat. You curse yourself for having these reactions toward your boss in his private place.

Lyla couldn’t even interrupt you both as much as you’d like. You didn’t want to be scolded. You wanted to take the punishment of finishing the report in front of Miguel and then go home.

“Your heart is racing so fast,” he murmurs, causing you to gasp. Heat pools in your belly and your cheeks start to burn. He cocks his head to the side before sighing and running a hand through his hair. His biceps flex under his shirt and you bite your lip.

“It’s just hot in here,” you lie, fanning yourself to prove a point.

“The AC is on,” he counters.

“Of course,” you squeak. You try so hard to lower your heart rate, but it’s not helping being so close to him.

“Do you want to know what else I can observe?” He asks, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. Your ears are pounding as you intake a sharp breath.

“What?” You whisper.

He rises, getting close to you. He lifts a hand and traces a finger underneath your chin, causing you to tremble and your lips quiver. “I can smell the way your sweat is protruding. And it’s not from fear.”

“Oh,” you whisper again.

He bares his teeth, fangs glinting. “I can also smell you to the point where it’s driving me fucking crazy right now.”

“Smell me? Like my sweat and my scent?” You raise a brow. You’re not sure where he’s getting at this. Is he trying to intimidate you? Cause it’s working.

“I can smell your arousal,” he chuckles, getting closer to brush your chest with his body. You widen your eyes.

“Oh, uh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say. You try to clench your thighs together, but that doesn’t help with the growing feeling between them. Your pussy is basically singing for him to touch it. You do your best to push down those thoughts, it’s utter humiliation that he can sense those things.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip and your knees almost give out at the gentle touch. It’s all confusing you to the point where you’re not even sure this is happening.

“You look confused,” he mutters.

“I-uh, I’m not sure what’s going on. I thought I was going to be lectured. I thought you’d send me away to finish the report or something,” you admit.

“You won’t be going on any missions anytime soon, how’s that for a lecture?”

Your heart drops at this. “What? How is that fair? I’m not the only one who missed a report, I’m sure!”

His hand drops from your face and you miss the feeling of it instantly. You stare at him and your anger is starting to increase. Scrunching your brows together, you exhale loudly.

“It’s completely fair for the way it was handled.”

It wasn’t wise for you to keep talking back to your boss, especially being alone with him. There wouldn’t be anyone around to save you if he started one of his rage arguments.

“The report can be done now, how about that?” he finally breathes. He retreats back to the couch and leans back, thighs spreading. His frame is large and your eyes immediately go to his core and then his crotch. You gulp, knowing you shouldn’t be looking in that region.

He says your name sternly and you look up before seeing a smirk pass his lips.

You shake your head and straighten your posture. “Of course, boss. Where do you want me to do it?” You ask, looking around for a desk or maybe he wanted you to complete it on the kitchen island. You still needed a paper and pen or a computer.

He makes a slapping sound and you turn toward it, seeing him slapping his thigh. You stare at him incredulously.

“Miguel?” You whisper. His eyes are no longer the light brown you remember from moments before. They've gone a little darker and red is seeping into the sclera. You gulp.

“Aquí,” he states firmly. You oblige, getting closer and bumping your knee with his before you stand in between his spread thighs.

Your heart continues to race and you’re surprised you haven’t passed out from it. He pats his thighs again before he leans up for a moment, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you in so easily. He lifts you up like you weigh nothing before you’re straddling his thighs, legs on either side of his.

It happens so quickly all you can do is gasp and then balance yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. His very broad, strong shoulders. Your fingers clasp them tightly and you swallow.

“Isn’t that better?” he whispers. You bite your lip, not sure how to respond. His hand lifts to brush your cheek before pushing strands of hair behind your ear. The movement is delicate and completely opposite of how Miguel holds himself in public. You’ve seen him swat a butterfly once that wasn’t even bothering him and his grumpy persona is all you know.

“Tell me,” he demands. You part your lips.

“Yes,” you finally admit. His hands move to your waist and press hard, enough for you to gasp. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and he hisses.

“What are we doing?” You ask, courage finally bubbling out of your chest.

“I’ve noticed things about you, reina,” he whispers, holding you tighter.

“You have?”

He nods. “The way you look at me. Your heart races when you’re near me. Your pussy craves my touch, I can smell it everytime.”

“What? No, it’s not–” you scream but he pulls you closer on his thighs until your core brushes against his. You feel something right under your pussy and you realize it’s his erection.

Your hips instinctively roll at the feeling and you groan, biting your lip.

“See? You can’t deny the way your body is wanting me. I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it too. That I don’t feel the same way.”

“Miguel,” you squirm underneath his hold but that only makes your hips roll even more into his erection and it sparks something in you. It feels so good and a moan leaves your lips. He grunts, fangs hitting his bottom lip for a moment. A slight red dot forms from the incision.

“Besame,” he asks, smoothing his hands up to your torso, over your arms and then to your cheeks. You feel intoxicated from his touch.

He wants you to kiss him. You can’t deny that, you’re already so far gone now. Without a delay, you nod and lean in, crashing your lips to his. A moan escapes your lips while a hiss leaves his. You feel a slight prick from his fangs and you gasp.

“Sorry, reina,” he says, licking your bottom lip.

You take a few deep breaths, lifting a hand from his shoulder to run it through his hair. You don’t do it gently, call it payback for the fang bite. But it only rouses him more, your fingers grasping harshly at his strands. He pulls you in then again to kiss you and then pushes his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with fervor and you let him. Your hips begin to roll over his erection and it hits the spot you need it to.

“Take these off,” he slaps your ass and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your sweats. You nod before lifting yourself and he pulls them down. You shift awkwardly until your sweats are off and then you’re straddling him with just your panties. His calloused palms touch your thighs and he groans.

“Fuck, your skin is so soft.” He murmurs before smoothing his hands over your thighs before moving to your panties.

“Do you want me to take these off too?”

He shakes his head, lifting a hand. You see a talon come out from his finger and he’s quick to cut the fabric of your panties. You gasp and he smiles.

“Hey!” You yelp.

“My turn,” he moves on, moving his hands to pull down his own pants. You have to lift yourself again, your panties falling from the motion. You watch as he slides his pants down enough until they’re past his knees. You finally look down and gasp, not expecting him to be bare underneath. No boxers, just his erected cock ready for you. A glint of pre-cum is at the tip and your mouth salivates at the thought.

His hand goes to his cock and he starts to move it up and down. He hisses through the movements before he licks his hand and continues the motions. You widen your eyes.

“Are you ready for your report?” He breaks your thoughts.

You lock eyes with him. “T-the report? Right now?”

He nods. “Sit on my cock, reina, and give me the damn report.”

Your cheeks burn and you look around the room, wondering if this is some kind of dream. You lift your hand to your other arm and pinch. It hurts, so you know you’re not dreaming.

He’s still fisting his cock as he waits patiently. His eyes are redder than before and he licks his lips.

“Miguel,” you whisper.

“You’re so wet for me already, I know it,” he laughs.

He wasn’t wrong, but your brain was turning into mush. You muster the courage to finally do as he says. You lift yourself enough to hover over his core and his hand moves from his cock to your pussy and you gasp from the feeling of his fingers running along your wet folds.

“Fuck, you’re going to be a tight fit. But I can’t warm you up, I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Wait, why?”

“Another punishment, now sit on my cock before I change my mind about everything.”

You didn’t want to know what else he planned for your punishment and you knew it wouldn’t be nearly as enticing as this. He’d probably make you work at the cafeteria or some shit.

“Okay,” you meep, finally lowering yourself onto his tip. You hiss at the feeling of his wet tip entering you.

“Come on, you got this,” he coos as his hands move to your waist to help lower you down. Inch by aching inch, you lower until you’re full of him. His girth practically splits you in half and you bite your lip, holding in a cry.

“You’re so pretty like this, sitting on my lap with my cock stuffed inside you.”

You let out a deep breath. “You’re so big, Miguel, I need a moment.”

“Take your time, you’re not leaving anytime soon.”

Your heart skips a beat at that thought. It takes a moment for you to adjust to his length before you’re ready to roll your hips. It feels like the world has flipped upside down and you’re in heaven. Sparks run all along your spine and throughout your body.

His cock twitches inside you and you start to roll your hips, closing your eyes.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. You whip them open and stare at him. Your hands dig into his shoulders again as you roll your hips again, causing him to groan and tighten his hold on your waist.

“Now, the report,” he repeats.

“Oh, yeah, uh–” you mumble out. Your mind can’t concentrate on that damn report as your pussy clenches around his cock. He stills your movements.

“We can only continue if you start talking,” he says.

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. He’s not going to take you off his lap until you’re done with the report. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle that. Your orgasm is already rising to its peak with the small movements. He’s so big, hitting your g-spot perfectly. Each roll of your hips sends you closer and closer to your release.

“Okay, well,” you start. “Hobie and I were able to handle the Vulture from Earth-673. It was good and–ah–we got him contained.” You say, biting your lip to keep from coming.

“And?” Miguel presses, lifting his own hips to drive his cock a little more into you. An exasperated pant leaves your mouth at this. He’s cruel.

“And that was it, that was all we did. Nothing else happened,” you mumbled out quickly.

“That’s not what I saw on the screens,” he hums. He moves a hand to roam down between your cores. His thumb presses gently against your clit and you clench his cock before whimpering.

“Miguel!”

“What else happened?”

You try so hard to think back to the mission that happened days ago. You curse Hobie for not sending the report or reminding you that you had to do it.

That’s when you remember something. You smile. “Gwen was handling that train cart that fell off the platform and then Hobie and I focused on the people on the ground. We got them all.”

“And what else?” Miguel starts to circle his thumb over your clit at a faster pace. You groan and hang your head back. His movements stop.

“Miguel, please,” you squirm, trying to get back that friction against your clit by rubbing yourself over his abdomen. He hisses and shakes his head.

“You forgot about the canon event you didn’t stop,” he reminded you.

That didn’t seem like important information to tell him. You all worked hard to prevent canon disruptions. It was an obvious task that didn’t need to be vocalized. He raises a brow. You take a deep breath and nod.

“Y-yeah,” you mumble. “We allowed the canon event to happen successfully.”

“Good girl,” Miguel coos before placing his thumb back on your clit and his other hand grasps your waist tight enough and he lifts you enough to slam you back down on his cock. You scream, falling on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your hands bury in his long hair.

“So good for me,” he whispers in your ear as you roll your hips some more, chasing that high.

“I’m close,” you whine. You feel his lips graze your neck and before you know it, you feel pain and little stabs at your skin. His fangs sink into your skin and that only causes you to moan loudly and squeeze his cock even more. He grunts before removing his fangs from your neck.

“You did so well for me, you can come whenever you want to, reina,” he whispers. And before you know it, both hands go to your waist and he’s lifting you up at an alarming pace and slamming you down on his cock.

You’re both panting loudly, the only sounds in the room are your cores slapping and your pussy drenching him in your arousal.

“Fuck! I’m going to come,” you whimper.

“Come all over my cock, baby,” he stutters as his pace of slamming you down grows sloppy. You nod and lift your head to look at him. His eyes are less red and his features have seemed to go a little softer.

Before you know it, you’re screaming and coming over his cock. He doesn’t stop though, he continues to jut into you until his hips still and his hands shake on your waist. You feel the warmth spread inside you and you know he just released inside you.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

You lay your forehead against his chest and his hands are soft to the touch as he rubs your bare back underneath your shirt. You shudder underneath his touch, but you try to calm your breathing. Your pussy clenches around his softening dick and he groans.

“I can get off,” you whisper, attempting to lift your hips, but his hold on you tightens.

“No, not yet.”

“Why?” You giggle. You lift your head and you’re nose to nose with Miguel. His eyes dance around your face before he answers.

��I think you need to repeat the report once more.”

“What?!” You scowl.

“I’ve got you here now, what’s the problem? You can’t repeat the same thing you just said? Or are you too cockdrunk to think of anything?”

You didn’t want to tell him that he’s right. The last few minutes are a blur and the mission of a few days ago is at the back of your mind already. You whimper as his hands lower to your ass and squeezes. You try to lift your hips again, but he slams you back down on him. The friction only causes your arousal to rise again.

Fuck, you’re never going to leave are you?

His erection starts to grow again in you and he smiles like a jerk.

“The report, repeat it. If you stumble once, you’re starting over. I have all night.”

You roll your hips, fully drowning in him and obeying his every command. You’re too far gone at this point to fight.

You nod, biting your lip before starting the report again. You mumble a few times and you curse yourself as he takes a moment to lift you and slam you on his cock a few times. You scream his name relentlessly before having to start the report over again.

You don’t get off his lap until the sun peeks from the horizon and filters through the penthouse.

#marvel au #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv #atsv fanfic #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse fanfiction #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months

Text

Eucteniza relata

Summary: After catching Miguel in the act, you realize you’re trapped in his web. Miguel, tired of your smart mouth and disobedience, has a bone to pick with you.

Content warnings: dub-con humiliation, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, faux!vampire!Miguel because I’m obsessed

AN: This man is an asshole, y’all. Yummy. This is also so so nasty. Did anyone watch The Invitation?? Remember the scene with the door? Those that get it, get it. Anyways, I hope y’all like it! Oops and before I forget, there will be a third and final part. See ya!

Taglist: @quaintii @sunflowercandie @villainarc-2 @battinsonwhore05 @friendly-reject @baker-and-fangirl @cynicallyaestetic @alnmpt

MDNI

This is the second part to Ctenizidae! Check it out here if you haven’t read it yet: Part 1

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Miguel lifts you up, holding your hips in his hands. He trails his fangs from the base of your neck to that sensitive spot right beneath your ear lobe.

He bites down gently, just enough to draw both blood and a whimper out of you. He tugs your hair back so he can do want he wants without interference, kissing and sucking and biting as he pleases, paying no mind to your choked-back moans.

When he’s had enough, he moves to whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“You know, I’ve had just about enough of that mouth of yours—“

“My m-mouth has done nothing to you.” Miguel grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together, making all your words slur together.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he groans, his head tilting upwards in exasperation. “You never know when to shut up, you always have something to say.”

You glare at him. You want to say something, but then you’d prove his point. He continues, sparing no attention to your restraint. Rude. Well then, if he’s just going to ignore you anyways, why bother?

“Y’know I have a reputation to uphold—“

“That sounds like a personal problem.” He glares at you, and you remember the position he has you in. Caged in between him and the wall, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“It’s about to be your problem.” He lifts you easily over his shoulder and carries you across the room, dumping you unceremoniously onto the bed. “I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

As he sits down, you scramble over to the head of the bed, but Miguel grabs your ankle and yanks you back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to run. C’mere.” He manhandles you over his lap. You struggle against him, but it only works against you, like a spider’s prey working itself deeper into the web. Miguel is relentless and patient. He holds you down with one hand, waiting until you tire yourself out.

“Are you ready now?” At your silence, he continues. “Here’s what you’re gonna do: you’re going to take this spanking, like a good girl. And afterwards, you’re gonna say thank you.”

“This is ridiculous—“ You hissed after Miguel slapped your thighs, one after another in quick succession.

“I wasn’t finished. Be quiet.” He rubs the warmed skin gently before continuing. “You really have a problem with talking back. I think being on your knees will fix that. But first—“

He peels off your jeans but leaves your underwear, just enough that you ass was fully exposed. You feel like a schoolgirl getting paddled in the principal’s office. It is humiliating.

He groans, deep and guttural as he gropes your ass. “Dios mío, este culo.”

“Wait, hold on—“ He doesn’t. He strikes your right cheek, then your left. He does it over and over, in the same spot. He doesn’t stop, not when you arch your back, nor when you’re flailing your legs or even when your soft cries turn into low moans. “I can’t, Miguel. Please.”

He pauses. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying yourself, princesa.” He squeezes in-between your thighs and drags his two middle fingers across your slit. “Not when the evidence is dripping from your thighs.”

He shows you just how you enjoyed his attention by shoving his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck.” He fucks your throat with his long, thick fingers, making you gag and drool around them. “Good girl. Now I’m going to give you something bigger to choke on. Get on your knees.”

“No, Miguel. If you think I’m going to suck your dick like this, you’re insane.” You refuse adamantly.

“You just love to argue, huh baby?” Miguel just shakes his head. “Or maybe you just like being forced to do what you’re told. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

He manhandles you once more, rearranging you until just your head hangs off of the bed. “I know just what you need.”

#marvel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #smut #fanfic #fan fiction #spider man x reader #y/n #oscar isaac #oscar issac smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #oscar issac characters

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baynetta · 10 months

Text

i’ve always wanted to write a super nasty, filthy cottage scenario with miguel.. like imagine that 6’9 beefy man fucking you raw in between nature. the nasty sounds of skin slapping at the brutal fast pacing that he’s going, gets lost between miles and miles of nature and the thick humity that makes everything more sticky and moisture. your ass up and using your hands preventing the rest of your torso sticking into the mud. miguel using his one hand to push your back more so he can abuse the only part that matters to him. your ass. so round, with the perfect heart shape that he loves to grasp on it while he’s tearing you apart from behind with each thrust. he often would curse and grunt more loudly than per usual. only making him more excited. you guys wasn’t in your place anymore, so who’s gonna hear?. you’ll try to use your free hands and reach for anything to hold on to while he’s clutching your hips with his hands. admiring the way your ass bounces and swallows his entire cock. you know that you’re making him more frustrated with your pathetic acts, causing him to stop his thrusts and put your two hands behind your back, using one hand to keep them together (yes his hand is that big 😩)

leaving your head to support your whole body from the ground, you feel dirt sticking under your bra, dirt getting mixed with the sweat of your forehead. just look at you. you look so dirty and messy.

“what. a. dirty. whore” he says while giving you short and hard thrusts with each word that comes from his cruel mouth.

the embarresment, the way you’re squeezing him so good, the painful sharp thrusts and your face burried in the grass. you like that and he knows it. he gives you multiple loud and strong smacks on your bum, the sting burning sensation making you cry loudly. so pathetic. suddenly you feel his grip looses and puts his entire weight on top of you, now your entire back sustaining his heavy body. the feeling of this new position overwhelmes you. your pussy is fully in contact with the freezing wet ground, making your low belly go numb, the feel is so deep and intimate. but also so invasive. his mouth being really close to your ear whispering how he’s gonna pound that cunt until he’s tired of it. while his full fat length enters deeply, stretching your entire walls. making you almost grasp terrible if it wasn’t for his hand now covering your whole mouth, it kept you from saying any fucking word. “right now i just want to hear myself fucking you up. dirty whores don’t talk”

miguel is being so ruthless with you that makes you feel like his toy. and that’s exactly what he’s doing. using you like he’s personal toy, a trophy that he can handle it as he pleases. but you love that so much, being completely submitted by the man who is fucking you remorseless. in the middle of nowhere. you’re not so pure after all.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac characters #miguel o’hara x you #spiderverse

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pimosworld · 4 months

Text

Bad days

Pairing- Steven grant x f!reader, hints of Marc and Jake x f!reader.

Summary- You help Steven relax and cure his bad day.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, porn with a little plot, angst, fluff, Steven being unsure at first, oral m receiving, cum eating, slight sub Steven,Dom reader, Marc and Jake being teases and helpful because it’s them.

WK-2.4k

A/N- Making Steven feel good is like candy to me so I hope you enjoy this.

Not beta read

[Moon Knight Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

You set the groceries down to knock on the door to Stevens flat. You don’t hear any movement on the other side of the door for a few brief moments. You know Steven wasn’t always punctual but he never missed an opportunity for you to cook him dinner.

It was a little nerve wracking at first taking over his job in the gift shop. He was promoted to tour guide at the museum but Donna insisted he train his replacement.

Marc was annoyed in the beginning. How hard could it be to work in a gift shop? He knew Steven had been waiting for so long to be a tour guide and told him in so many words to tell Donna to shove off. Until you walked in.

For once in his life Steven didn’t bumble his way through an introduction. You loved the way he cared so deeply for the regular patrons and cataloged all the items in the gift shop.

He gave you a taweret plushie on your last day of training and couldn’t contain his excitement when you wrapped your arms around him as a thank you.

Ask her now

It wasn’t often Jake made an appearance, but since you’ve come into the picture he was making himself more and more known.

He’s right, ask her

It was a problem for Steven when Marc and Jake were getting along. He has yet to make his condition known to you, but he’s noticed you smirking when he’s talking out loud or having a stern conversation with his reflection in the glass of the gift shop.

“I was wondering if maybe…you’d like to go to dinner with me sometime?”

You said yes before he could even get the words out.

That was a few months ago.

****

Steven noticed you at the end of the hallway as the doors to the lift opened.

I told you to just give her a key hermano

Steven didn’t want to just hand you a key like Marc or Jake would. He wanted it to be special…he already had it made, he just needed an opportunity to present it to you. He’s been so busy with his promotion he’s barely had time for you.

You offered to cook him dinner and he couldn’t even bother to be on time for that.

He looks so tired, even from where you’re standing. You can tell he’s had a rough day and you’re determined to make it better. It’s not often the boys let you spoil them, always so concerned with your needs.

Steven had needs too…he just needed a gentle reminder.

****

“I’m sorry I’m so late, Love.” He pecks your lips as he drops some scrolls to the ground to fish out his keys.

“It’s okay Steven, I haven't been waiting long.” You bend over to pick up the groceries as he drops his keys.

“Oh bollocks, can’t even open my own door.” You try to grab his shoulder as he picks them up from the floor. He mutters something under his breath about being clumsy and your certain Marc or Jake aren’t helping.

“Steven, honey.” You wrap your arms around him as you slowly grab the keys. “Let me help you.”

Steven wants to protest but your hands are like magic covering his. He has to pinch himself everyday to remind himself he’s not dreaming, when it comes to you. Marc and Jake may give him a hard time but he never lets them forget that you were interested in him first.

He sighs into your touch as you slowly open the door. “You’re too good to me, you know that.” He scoops the groceries in one arm and the scrolls in the other.

“There’s no such thing as too good.” Your lips curve into a smile before you lean in and kiss him and he nearly drops everything in his arms.

“Why don’t you set that stuff down and get comfortable.”

He goes to protest but you place your finger on his lips. “Go wash off this awful day, change into something comfortable and relax.” You kiss him again a little deeper and longer, you can feel him sigh into it as you start to pull away. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

I would do what she says if I were you.

He pinches himself before he heads off to the bathroom.

****

Steven notes the delicious smell wafting through the flat as he pulls on his favorite jumper and sweatpants. Although he knows whenever he comments on how good it smells you always tell him it’s just garlic and onions.

You’re a picture of domestic perfection as you finish putting something in the oven. You wipe your hands on the small towel as you look up and smile at him.

His feet are rooted to the spot in the living room as you make your way towards him,you look like you want to devour more than just the food. The urge to look over his shoulder and make sure he’s the one you’re looking at is strong.

Your soft hand gently grabs his wrist as you pull him toward the couch. Perhaps Marc or Jake took control of his legs because he certainly doesn’t remember how he swiftly ended up seated with you on your knees in front of him.

The words are leaving your mouth but he can’t hear anything over the buzzing in his ears as you rub your hands up and down his legs.

“What did you say love?” You smirk and lean up, pulling his face to yours as your soft lips meet his. He could stay like this, just kissing you as he melts into the couch. The stress of the day pouring off him like the rain outside.

“I said…did you have a bad day?” You trail kisses along his jaw and nip at his earlobe as you wait for his answer.

“Yes.” It comes out as a confession, like he’s ashamed to admit that he has bad days doing his dream job.

Your warm hands roam under his sweater along his chest and trail down as you hook your fingers in his waistband. His breathing is coming in too fast and he tries to calm himself down as your body brushes against the obvious tent in his sweats.

“Do you want me to make it better?” It’s a whisper in his ear that he hears loud and clear as your hands wait for permission.

Say yes Steven

It must’ve been too long, because his head mates urge him to answer you before you change your mind. As if you ever would.

“Yes…please.” You chuckle at his rushed out response as if you can read his mind and know exactly what they’re saying.

It drives him a little bit wild that you’re giving him this attention. He was always a little more reserved than Marc and not as bold as Jake. He’s never been treated like this. The sole purpose of someone’s desires.

You tug a little on his pants and bite your lip. He lifts his hips to help you as you pull them down just enough to pool at his feet. He’s achingly hard as your hand reaches out to pump him a few times.

He bites down on his tongue to keep from coming at the first touch of you. It’s only been a few days and he’s already so desperate for anything you’ll give him.

The genuine look of enjoyment on your face as you stare at it like it’s an appetizer to a four course meal is something he’ll have to frame in his mind.

The feel of your hand is quickly replaced with your mouth as you slide down the length of him, your plush lips wrapped around his cock as you hum in approval. Finally provided the relief you both wanted.

He chokes back a moan as your tongue slides back up, slowly twirling around the tip. A drop of precum trails down the side and you tilt your head licking it up like an ice cream cone. Not wanting to waste a drop.

Fuck

Your hands are on his legs again as you rub them in time with your head as you bob up and down, moaning around his cock sending chills up his spine.

You loved watching Steven let go. It was exhilarating that you could make someone come undone. The dark look in his eyes is almost similar to Marc’s but you know by the noises coming from him and the way his hands grip the couch it’s your sweet Steven.

Put your hand on the back of her head

“What?” He rasps out above you.

You come off with a pop and take in his unruly curls as the sweat forms on his furrowed brow.

“I didn’t say anything honey.” He stares blankly at you for a moment before he realizes he must’ve spoke out loud.

Idiota

“Sorry love, you can keep going…if you want to—

His rambling is cut short as you take him into your mouth again, not wasting a moment as your lips slide all the way down his cock. Your nose brushes the curls at the base and you gag a little.

“Sorry love…” Steven begins to apologize but you don’t seem to be stopping.

Listen to me and don’t say anything

Perhaps he should just listen to Marc, he’s never…well maybe not never, but he’s rarely led him astray.

Put your hand on the back of her head and Gently…go with her movements.

You glance up at Steven who nods his head as he places his hand on the back of yours. He’s looking at you with those puppy dog eyes like he’s asking for permission to do what you’ve been wanting this whole time. Enjoy it.

You hollow out your cheeks and pull him in deeper as he audibly moans a little louder. His nails scratch lightly at your scalp as he pushes you down a little further. His bold movements turn you on even more than you were before. You breathe through your nose and push past the burning in your lungs to stay on the edge of his pleasure for a little longer.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” He mostly says it to himself as you whine your response because you can't really answer at the moment. Not verbally at least.

You know you probably look a mess as your mascara runs down your cheeks and the drool pools outside your mouth as he takes what he wants. Except he’s looking at you like you hung the moon as his free hand swipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

It feels like he’s in the duwat again the way he’s floating between this reality and the next. He struggles to keep his eyes on you as he throws his head back against the couch finally relinquishing all control he had over his emotions.

The sounds of your mouth and the muttering of praises are all he can focus on as the familiar feeling starts to creep up his back and infiltrate his brain.

You can feel his legs tense beneath your hands as the grip in your hair tightens instinctually.

“I’m…im close love, you don’t have to.”

Cállate y déjale

“It’s okay Steven, you can let go.” You half pant out as you resume before he can protest.

You place your hand on top of his and urge him on as he curses under his breath. His hips stutter slightly as he feels himself let go, spilling hot ropes of come into your mouth. You don’t let up as you swallow every drop until he’s boneless beneath you. His cock twitches slightly as you come off, slowly catching your breath. His hand drops to the couch with a thud as you raise up next to him and brush his curls out of his face.

The redness on his neck dissipates with every breath that he takes in. He may have been close to passing out if you hadn’t stopped soon.

“That was…incredible.” He half whispers to himself and you chuckle into his neck as you place soft kisses to his sweaty skin.

“I’m glad I could help.”

The timer on the oven beeps bringing your attention back to the dinner you started when you told him to relax.

“Ooohh, the lasagna is done.I hope you’re hungry.” You bounce up off the couch as he stands and pulls his sweats back on.

He feels like he ran a marathon and food sounds delightful at the moment.

“You made my favorite?” It’s said as more of a question than a statement as he watches you move around his kitchen like you’ve been here all your life.

“I made two actually.” You cut into one and place a serving on each of your plates. “Vegan and meat sauce. I’ll mark them for you so you know which is which.”

I love her

Ella es perfecta

You lick the sauce off your finger and he’s brought back to what you just did for him on the couch.

“I have something for you love.” Steven heads to the room briefly and digs through his jacket pocket before he finds it.

He sheepishly returns to the kitchen island where you’re digging into your smaller portion of lasagna. He’s trying to rid his head of these thoughts for a second as you make the same noises from before as you savor your food.

His hand shakily slides the key towards you and you set your fork down to pick it up. The beautiful brass key looks so big in your delicate hands.

“Is this my prize?” You ask with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Smooth

“Oh no…I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while. I didn’t plan it this way…it was supposed to be special and well…”

“Shhh. Steven, relax, I'm just joking.” He eases a little at your words, knowing you’re just teasing him. You and Jake had that down better than he or Marc ever could. “I love it honey, thank you for trusting me with this.”

You lean in and place a kiss to his cheek, shorter than he would care for. He never wants you to stop touching him if he could help it.

“Eat up, before it gets cold.”

Before I take the body and eat my own

No me parece

He eats while they bicker, not wanting to waste another precious moment with you.

****

Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you stare out the window of the bus on the way home from work.

Steven: where are you love?

On the bus I just left work, how was your day?

Steven: It was quite dreadful

I’ll be home soon to make it better

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tagging a few who might be interested

@missdictatorme @chichimisaki @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @simpforbritgents

#moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fem reader #steven grant x female reader #moon knight mcu #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant smut #marc spector x f!reader #jake lockley x reader #moon boys x reader #steven grant fluff #sub steven grant #marvel moon knight #steven grant x f!reader #jake lockley fluff #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x you #oscar issac characters #oscar isaac

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st4rymoon · 1 month

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౨ৎ - 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

• Duke Leto Atreides x Fem Reader

| 18+, smut, unprotected sex!, |

• needy reader, age gap (18+) insinuated, p in v, unprotected sex!, creampie!, Duke gets a little mean :( but he apologizes <3, daddy kink, power imbalance, mentions of masterbation!, pet names (love, sweetheart, honey), slight angst, spoiled reader, fingering!

The Duke was a very patient man. He rarely ever raised his voice at anyone and when he did it was always necessary and justifiable.

The Duke believed he’d never raise his voice at you but in situations like this, you were getting on his nerves. You were sitting in his lap, kissing his face in hope to get his attention.

“Leto please I’ve been good” you begged. He’d been away making bargains with the fremen so him being away for so long got you even needier. He ignored you as you pawed and whined at his chest, your lips messily kissing up his neck and rubbing against his beard as you began to grind onto his hips.

He was trying to finish up his work, trying his best to ignore your pretty pleads as he signs off a few papers. But you were persistent. He told you he was almost done but you just don’t seem to listen.

“Give me a few minutes” he huffed. “Oh come on Leto, just a kiss” you puckered “I told you to wait!” he blurted “don’t you ever listen? I’ve got you here begging me for what? Some attention? I told you not now. Not now means not now. If all you please is to distract me then get out! ” he hissed.

You froze, his malice and hostile tone had you off his lap in seconds “I’m I- I’m sorry” you muttered. He was always careful not to yell, he didn’t see any use in it so this was new to you.

“Go sit on the couch and let me work” he huffed. You nodded with watery eyes and decided to leave him be. Leto watched as you quietly shut the door behind yourself. He sighed realizing he might’ve been a little too mean, after all this little needy act was his doing.

He gave you anything you asked, anything you wished for. It wasn’t your fault you got so accustomed to his 24/7 attention.

It was almost 3 hours later once Leto walked into his chambers. You were curled into a ball wearing one of his freshly washed cotton pullovers, reading one of your dozens of book.

“Darling” he hummed. You perked at his voice, sitting up and stopping yourself from running over to him after what played out. “I’m sorry Leto, I don’t want to be a bother. I won’t do anything like that again” you spoke with worry.

Leto signed and made his way to you “don’t apologize, I was cruel. My sweet girl just wanted some love” he hummed as he sat beside you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, a deep breath leaving your lips in relief “what had you so needy, what do you want huh?” Leto hummed.

“You, anything you’ll give me my lord” you replied. You knew Leto loved being called such things whether it be my lord or sir. “Yeah?” He nodded.

Your legs straddled him into place, chest pressed against each others as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. “How cruel am I to tell you no and after all that time away from you” he purred.

You mewled at the sensation of his calloused hand wrap around your throat, his beard rubbing against your jaw as he peppered kisses along your chin.

“Have you been playing with yourself?”

With the reaction you gave, the Duke guessed you have. You nodded with a pouty expression on your face, your hips moving against his hips as he kissed you. He chuckled at your neediness.

You gasped as he pushed you onto your back “I think I need to have a check of my own” Leto smiled as he spread your legs apart. He was more than pleased to see you had no panties and wasted no time in getting his inspection done.

You mewled as two of his thick calloused fingers pushed into your sticky cunt, it wasn’t a surprise when he noticed you gushing all over his fingers so quickly. “All sticky and warm bunny, I can tell you missed me” Leto cooed as he began to fuck his fingers in and out of you.

You gripped onto his wrist as he watched you make a mess of his hand, your eyes rolling back into your head as he praised you for being so good “Is this what you wanted? Or did you want something else sweetheart”

Your words were incoherently spilling out of you while Leto sloppily sucked onto your neck “n- need more! Mor- moreee of you” you cried. He let out a cocky chuckle “more of me? I’m not sure I understand” he teased.

You were so desperate you didn’t even realize what you were saying “Please daddy ” you hiccuped while pawing at his bottoms. Leto froze at the word, daddy. He’s never heard you say it before and boy did he feel like he was missing out.

“What’s my little girl need?”

“Jus’ fuck me! Please Leto” you whined as he pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean. He was working you up as a punishment. You need to learn from your mistakes.

“You want daddy t’ fuck you honey? Wasn’t that enough?” He mocked. You shook your head as you pulled at his bottoms. Managing to get them half way down, Leto decided he’d do the rest.

Letos heart was racing by the view infront of him. You were sprawled on your back, legs wide and cunt dripping as you begged him to fuck you. He felt so damn lucky.

He watched you squirm as he rubbed himself between your folds, your creamy slick coating him in a way that had him mesmerized. He watched as your tight hole glimmered, inviting and encouraging him.

The pornographic moan you let out was sinful as Leto kept your legs to his sides, hips thrusting forward as he buried himself inside your walls. He had to hold himself from slumping onto your chest as your tight walls squeezed him with a vice grip.

“Fu- fuck sweetheart” he moaned as he held your legs open by the back of your thighs. The lewd sounds coming from between you were sinful, the constant pressure on your sweet spot had you sobbing onto the pillows.

You gripped onto the sheets for dear life as his deep strokes knocked the wind out of you. The curve of his length knocked at your cervix as he positioned himself closer to you, causing your hips to slightly lift off the sheets as he continued his brutal pace.

“L- letoo- oh fuc- dadd- ah!” You mewled as his hands slid between your legs and rubbed at your swollen bud. His eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of you clenching around him, your sticky walls pulsed against his length as he held you tight.

“Everyone thinks you’re too pure for a man like me, the Duke. But they don’t have a clue about how much of a filthy little thing you are. Always begging and pawing for me to fuck you, always on your knees” he hissed.

You nodded dumbly without a single coherent word coming from you. Spit dribbled down your chin, nails scratching down his forearms as he curled hips in a way that had your head fogged up.

Leto truly was in heaven in moments like this.

He smiled at the sound of your shaky cries, your pretty whines filling his ears with pathetic pleas. Your orgasm hit hard as you began to whine at his thrusts “you can take it, shhh jus’ breath lovely” he cooed as your legs shook around his waist.

Leto filled your womb with his warm sticky seed, his grumbled moans booming into your ear as he slumped forward. He hugged at your thighs as he thrusted sloppily into your messy cunt.

His seed spilled from your puffy cunt as he came to a halt. Heavy breaths falling into your neck as both of you caught your breath. Leto’s beard scratched at your shoulder as he pressed soft kisses up to your lips.

The kiss was hot and messy as he held your face with two hands. “You’ve never called me daddy before love” he smiled. “I- I’m sorry, I won’t do it agai-“ you panted out but got cut off with a kiss.

The Duke spoke through the kiss “oh honey I want you to keep that up, call me daddy as much as you please” he purred.

#smut #duke leto #duke leto x reader #leto atreides #Duke Leto smut #Leto atrevidos smut #oscar isaac characters #dune Duke Leto #duke leto atreides

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ivystoryweaver · 5 months

Text

Based on a combined request from @babyprofessorsharkpalace and @dowbastan. The requests were so similar that I wrote this one shot and I hope you both like it!

Summary: You're the childhood love of Duke Leto Atreides. Years have passed and your paths took you different directions. You have one final night before he leaves Caladan for Arrakis.

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides from Dune x f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: NSFW, mdni, language, fingering, oral - m. rec., p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, nipple play, spitting, not beta'd

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

An invitation to Caladan to celebrate House Atreides' appointment to Arrakis was a coveted opportunity, and an honor.

You belonged to a noble family on a neighboring planet, and your family had a history with House Atreides. In fact, you were once pledged to a young Leto Atreides.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Then...

Long before silver sprinkled his inky curls - before his father passed on the title of Duke - the handsome first son of Caladan was your intended.

This resulted in multiple visits to Caladan during your childhood, in which you actually befriended young Leto. The two of you remained unaware of your families' intentions for years. You played along the wet, craggy rocks and numerous caves of Caladan, and the sprawling gardens of your homeworld.

When you came of age, plans were made to announce your engagement officially. This was the first you'd ever heard of it. You visited Caladan once again with your parents, eager to see your dear friend Leto.

You were both still so young - you even more so than he. You and Leto stole away to your usual childhood spots, laughing and catching up, but this time, once you reached your favorite cave, he gathered you into his arms.

"We're to be married," he whispered, gazing adoringly into your eyes. "Does this please you?"

"Leto," you whispered, with a breathless laugh. "Who else could it ever be but you?"

His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body as he lowered his lips to yours.

This was the last happiness you would know with your childhood love.

The Bene Gesserit installed Lady Jessica as a concubine for young Leto.

You understood that many nobles had concubines for companionship, while remaining open to strategic, political marriages. But you assumed you would be Leto's companion, as well as his wife.

Despite your protestations, you might have been forced into the arrangement anyway, except that your parents would have you nowhere near the influence of the Bene Gesserit, if they could help it.

So you didn't see Leto again for years - not until you were married to another powerful man, and Leto had a son and heir, thanks to Lady Jessica.

You had the opportunity to meet them once - young Paul Atreides and his mom. Truthfully, they were lovely and you found yourself wondering why fate had brought a man like Leto to your heart only to yank him away and give him to someone else.

Then your husband passed away. You received a note of condolence from Leto, in his own hand, no less.

'I will always cherish our fond childhood,' it read. 'Please know my sympathy and warm affection are with you always.'

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Now...

So, here you are, these years later, in the home - the castle - of your once intended. A farewell party, to honor House Atreides before they set off to oversee spice production on Arrakis.

Your invitation is nothing special. Hundreds were invited from all over. The chance of you seeing, let alone speaking with the Duke is minuscule. He likely has more important things to do than worry about widowed childhood friends.

The opulence of the occasion enchants even you for a time, but you eventually grow weary of the fake smiles and never-ending condolences. Bored with the evening, and damn near everything in your life, you wander away from the bustle and celebration, through once familiar corridors of Castle Caladan.

Hardly a thing has changed. Few things ever do in these ancient royal dwellings. You find yourself meandering along, just as you did as a child, darting from one lavish room to the next, avoiding the elder duke's stern glare.

Speaking of which...

"If I look at you at just the right angle, it almost seems like we're teenagers again."

The unmistakable voice of Duke Leto Atreides sounds over the faded swirl of orchestra music, drifting from the great hall.

"In complete darkness, maybe," you lightly return, keeping your back turned. "Seeing how I have not walked these halls since the birth of your son."

"A young man nearly grown," Leto evenly responds. "It's been far too long."

The thump of his heavy boots alerts you to his approach. You stiffen as he draws near. You suppose it's time to acknowledge your host in his own home. Before you can, however, he moves in beside you.

Just the scent of him throws you into inner turmoil. The years have been kind to Leto. He wears middle age very well. Distinguished and brutally handsome, he commands respect, despite his shorter stature.

"Too long indeed," you finally respond, longing to turn and gaze into his eyes - to see if any trace of the boy you loved still lingers.

"Let me look at you," he softly commands, boldly cupping your shoulder with his palm.

"Nothing to see." You shrug him off, or attempt to anyway. "Just a lonely widow."

He crowds into your personal space demandingly, grasping both shoulders now. "Am I such a stranger to you that you won't greet me in my own home - or even look at me? Why did you even make the journey?"

Your eyes meet his unflinchingly - a perfect match for his stubbornness. "I came to congratulate you and your family on your appointment to Arrakis. Now that I've done so, I'll take my leave."

He holds you firmly, the heat of his fingers seeping through your sleeve. "Why so soon? I've only just laid eyes on you for the first time in years and you can't even spare me a glance? You might as well condemn me to walk the sands of Arrakis alone."

"Don't be so dramatic, Leto," you mock, attempting to wrench free of his grip. "Everything you need or want is going with you to that desert rock."

"Not everything," he firmly protests, dark eyes boring into yours. His fingers, so insistently gripping your arms, relax and began to trace soothing circles on the soft fabric of your dress.

You huff, rolling your eyes, but your body automatically eases closer to the duke, as if responding to him instinctually.

"Don't pretend I mean anything to you now," you scold him, melting into his embrace, with only your words left to cut him.

"No one in this world means more to me except for my own son," he breathes on your cheek, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you flush against his pristinely uniformed chest.

Your heart stops for a moment as you struggle to breathe. "I think you forgot Lady Jessica," you finally manage. "The Bene Gesserit's strategic installation."

He groans. "She's the mother of my heir."

"All the more reason to leave me be! I've paid my respects. I'm done here. We're done." Your chest heaves dramatically as Leto runs his hands possessively up your back, pulling you desperately close.

"I'll never be done with you," he breathes against your mouth, covering your lips with his own. You want to fight him but the heat of his tongue lures you in, your body wilting into his powerful embrace. His soft beard tickles your face as you liquify in his arms.

Taking advantage of your compliance, he kisses you endlessly, working the elegant skirt of your dress up your legs until it bunches around your waist, giving him access to caress your thighs.

His tongue thrusts hungrily but his fingers touch you softly, tracing your inner thigh, on a determined path to the core of you.

He doesn't ask - he feels your hips shift toward his caress as he strokes you through the flimsy fabric covering your folds.

He wastes no time brushing the material aside to push his knuckles against your wet heat, already slick for him. He surprises you with the brazenness of his touch. His fingers stretch out, separating your slick folds. The pad of his thumb drags demandingly down over your needy bundle of nerves as his fingers work their way into you possessively.

He groans into your mouth as you squelch and clench around him - your hole tight and unused.

You shamelessly moan against his parted, panting mouth, fucking your hips down onto his thick digits, the stretch of even two fingers stuffing you fuller than you've felt in years. His rhythm in and out is the most incredible sensation you've ever experienced in your life.

"This is all for you," he rumbles on your ear, curling his fingertips against the spongy softness inside you, making you shudder with desperate want. "Invited half the galaxy here just so I could be inside you again."

"Leto," you keen, your back arching as a wave of euphoria rolls through you, drenching his fingers with your desire.

You're instantly yanking at the belt of his uniform trousers, panting, somewhat satisfied, but not truly sated. You remember the beautiful, soft, strong body of your first lover. Your husband had no hope of comparing.

As you work him free of his pants, which drop to his knees, you gasp out an eager whine as his cock springs free, stiff and thick and already dripping for you. Without another thought, you're sinking to your knees to swipe your tongue over the proud length of him.

He sucks in a breath and growls out a swear. You can tell you've managed to truly surprise him.

You can't fit him in your mouth - there's no way, so your hands grip his shaft twisting possessively as you open wide and try take him to the back of your throat.

"F-fuck," he hisses, stumbling forward slightly and you gag, drool trickling from the corners of your mouth. Once you get your bearings, you chuckle around him because this man never loses control of any situation.

He's so thick your eyes start to water, but it feels good to have him in your hands again - to have someone want you, crave you, even.

His body is tense and impatient and he grips your chin forcefully, although not painfully, easing his stiff cock out of your mouth. You wonder what's going on, but he doesn't keep you guessing.

"Turn around," he orders, bringing your skirts back up to where they started, around your waist. "Hold this," he commands.

His hands grip your hips underneath your dress and you feel his cock rubbing against your ass as he leans over you the nearest table, his breath falling hot on your ear. He doesn't speak yet, just breathes in and out. You manage to hold your skirt with one hand while bracing yourself with the other.

Unsatisfied with your position, he grumbles out a curse, pushing you so far over that your backside is higher than your head, your body halfway sprawled across the table’s end. Leaning down, he separates your pussy lips with his fingers and spits on your cunt. You let out a whine - your own voice sounding foreign to you. Then you feel the tip of his cock drag through your wet folds, back and forth, before he finally eases in, halting as he feels how impossibly tight you are.

You whimper at the intrusion, your body thrumming with lust. This elegant duke - controlled and noble in every interaction - is grunting, his hips stuttering as he tries to fit his impossibly huge cock into your unused cunt. Your whines and his groans are shamefully loud, echoing off the ancient walls of this corridor, where anyone could find you.

"You'll take all of me before you leave here," he hisses, his fingers finding your clit, circling languidly, while his other hand wraps around your abdomen, holding you in position. He palms your breast through the fabric of your dress and you wish you could feel his skin against yours again.

You almost say as much - beg him, even, but you know these are stolen moments. Hundreds are waiting for him, probably looking for him.

But he's here, inside you. Or half inside, anyway.

"That's it, dove, let me in," he huffs, pushing in more, and more.

Tears prick your eyes because it stings but you need it so badly. "You're so big," you gasp out, "I can't, Leto. Please."

He jerks out of you so fast, you almost topple over, but the strong arm wrapped around you holds you steady. Pulling you up to your feet, he drags you by the hand to the nearest sleeping quarters down the corridor - essentially, the closest room with a door.

Securing the door, he all but rips the bodice of your dress, pawing at you until your breasts spring free. Catching your nipple between his teeth, he tugs, making you hiss out a whine, the pain and pleasure making you weak.

His tongue soothes your sore skin, coaxing your nipple to hardness. Then he suckles you while yanking at your laces and bindings.

You chant his name like a prayer, pushing your fingers into his perfectly kempt curls, twirling them into a mess as he sucks your tits, one at a time. It feels so good you could come again just from this.

But you need to feel him, to have him. This will be your only chance - you're sure of it. Barely managing to give up the sensation of having this perfect man suck your nipples, you push him back and work on the buttons of his uniform jacket. He's way ahead of you, having rid himself of everything from the waist down.

Finally, finally you feel all of him, all these years later.

He pulls you against him, kissing you deeply, gripping your thighs before hoisting them around his waist. Backing up to the bed, he eases down, sitting on the edge with you on top of him.

"Need you to take all of me," he repeats the directive, clutching your hip with one hand, while gripping his cock in the other.

Nodding, you push up onto your knees, letting him drag his tip through your folds, collecting your wetness.

"Fuck me," he commands, squeezing your hip and pushing you downward, fingertips digging into your flesh.

Bracing yourself on his broad, muscular shoulders, you sink onto his tip, breathlessly moaning at how swiftly and easily you feel full.

"More than that. Need more." His jaw is locked in unbearable tension and you feel his cock twitch as he slips deeper inside.

"Kept this cunt tight for me," he rasps, pushing again. "No one can stretch you out like I can."

"Yes," you unabashedly whine, your legs trembling as you try to hold your body up just a little longer, feeling as if he will spear you in half if you sink all the way down.

He leans back a little and uses his fingers to push your pussy lips apart. He wants to watch your squelching cunt split open over his thick cock.

"Look at how you take me," he marvels, licking his lips, using one fingertip to toy with your clit. Your back arches in ecstasy, but you still, you don't sink all the way down.

"Let me in," he snarls, rubbing you rapidly but so featherlight, you teeter on the edge of orgasm. Desperate to come, to please him, to feel all of him, you give in, letting your legs give out as you sink down - the heavy length of him searing you inside.

"Leto, fuck...fuck," you cry - wincing at the sting but reveling in the stretch.

He groans out appreciatively, but his arms quickly wind around you to support your weight and he stills the movement of his hips as you adjust to the full length of him.

"So good for me," he rasps, kissing you again. You melt into the taste of him, threading your fingers through his curls. Your breasts press against the warmth of his chest. He kisses you on and on, his legs twitching with the need to move, to push up, to thrust into your cunt, stuffed full of him.

He almost comes just from the first rock of your hips, finally feeling the friction he needs. He wants to grip your hips and force you down on his cock, over and over, but he's patient, just a little longer. Your hunger for this - for him, is almost as intoxicating as the way you begin to slowly grind your pelvis in a tantalizing, delicious rhythm.

Wanting you to feel as good as he does - needing to feel the clench of your cunt around his cock when you come - prompts him to reach between your bodies again and strum at your oversensitive clit. He meets your rocking with slow, sensual thrusts upward, sucking a mark into your throat as he coaxes you to another delicious climax.

You forget to mind the fact that this spontaneous reunion could technically result in a child. But Leto hasn't forgotten.

"Want to fill you up," he pants, desperation creeping into his thrusts. The initial sting has worn off after two orgasms, and the slick heat between your bodies creates a pleasurable friction for you both.

"Dance with me tonight," he carries on, pulling you against his chest as his thrusts grow more demanding. "You'll feel the ache of me inside you. I want you to feel me leaking out of you. You're mine."

"I belong to no man," you protest, even as your cunt flutters in agreement with him.

Just a few more thrusts and he comes with a groan, spilling deep inside you, his breath heavy on your throat.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold him close, keeping him inside you, reveling in these stolen moments before he disappears from your life.

Most likely for forever.

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