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absolutelyferal · 5 months

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The fact my first smut ever posted is almost to a thousand notes has my screaming and crying I love y’all

Sweet Treat

Steven Grant x PlusSize!F!Reader

18+ MDNI, Please!

Warnings: Smutty, smut, smut, you know why you’re here. Insomnia; SMUT. I shouldn’t have to warn ya’ll about that, but I shall. If you also just want that perfect, perfect man on his knees and between your legs and then railing you afterwards, here you go! Feeling insecure also and Steven makes sure you feel comfortable and beautiful. Unprotected sex, and a slight hint of foot worship? I’m not good at warnings, so, read at your own risk!

Summary-ish: The end of a long shift leaves you wide awake and stressed for what tomorrow will bring. When you decide to visit your insomniac neighbor in hopes to put your mind at ease with his kind words, it ends up being a little more than just sharing some chocolates…

Y’all, this is my very first smut post to Tumblr. I’m hella nervous. But I ADORE writing smut for our silly little y/n, so here you go! Please, give feedback! If I upset anyone at all, let me know! As a person with mental health issues, including insomnia, I think I did pretty well? Idk. I’m also ✨plus size✨ so yes, majority of my posts will be with a PlusSize!Reader because frankly I don’t see enough of them around here. I also didn’t edit this very well, so I hope you enjoy it anyway!

P.S. sorry for the wait! I’ve been super sick, but I wanted to make sure I did the best I could and here it is! Finally! :)

As the old elevator comes to a stop on your floor, you startle. It was a long shift at your place of work and all you really need right now is a break. This week has been absolute hell on earth. Your boss overworking you, coworkers ganging up against you to bury you in a deeper hole of unfinished files and stress.

You step into the hall, heels clicking as you make your way slowly to your apartment. Basically dragging your bag behind you, you unlock your door and step inside and head right to shower and bed.

Almost completely sure you’ll pass out as soon as you lay down, but come to find an hour later you’re still wide awake and staring helplessly at the ceiling. No amount of work will cure your insomnia apparently.

With a yawn, you decide it’s only right to stand, pull on a hoodie over your tank top and shorts, and head to leave, barefoot because you’re just going across the hall. A last second decision leads you to grabbing a box of chocolates on your way out you have yet to devour.

“Steven?” You call out quietly, knocking on your neighbor’s door. It’s quiet for a moment and you almost think he’s asleep for once, but small shuffling tells you he is, in fact, awake.

“Hiya, Love.” Steven greets you with his perfect, messy brown curls. You smile back, holding up the chocolates.

“I can’t sleep.” You tell him.

“Come in, then.” He says, stepping to the side. You lower your head shyly, stepping past him and immediately heading to greet your favorite fish, Gus.

“Hello, handsome.” You whisper. The round eyes look back into yours for a moment before swimming away. Oh, to be a pet of Steven Grants. “You spoil him, Steven.” You say airly, wondering why you wish you were that fish at the moment. To be loved and cherished by the man now at your side.

“It’s the least I can do for keeping him trapped in here.” Steven tells you, looking to Gus.

“Gus is a good fish.” You say with a nod. “Good boy.” You add, leaning forward slightly towards the tank.

You catch Steven’s reflection in the tank, watching you look at the one-finned-wonder. His white t-shirt hugs his defined chest, showing his toned arms. You can’t help your gaze dropping down to the grey sweat pants he’s sporting. Biting your lip, you hurriedly busy yourself by walking to the kitchen and putting on the kettle for hot chocolate to accompany the chocolates.

“So, you just had some chocolates lying around your flat?” Steven asks, picking up the red box and turning it over in his hands. You shift a bit at the stove, watching his digits slide across the box as he reads the treats available inside.

“It was from a date last week, but he was a dirtbag so… Better to share this with someone I actually like then sit alone in my flat…”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating a box chocolates alone.” Steven assures you with those puppy dog eyes. You smile and look to the kettle, seeing it’s slowly coming to a boil.

“Not like I need any more chocolate anyway.” You mumble, running a hand over your hair.

“The flapjack that got you these and hurt your feelings doesn’t deserve you.” Steven states with so much confidence you almost don’t believe those words come from him. Looking over, you see Steven is distracted by looking at the box. You wonder what’s so interesting, but brush it off and go back to staring down the kettle.

“I think he was just stressed. Seems to be my theme lately. Can’t really blame him for getting snappy.” You say with a shrug. “I know I’ve been so stressed lately I feel like getting snappy at people too, but I wouldn’t towards someone who doesn’t deserve it… on purpose anyway. It’s like I’m so stressed I feel like my mind can’t keep up with my actions.”

“I understand that.” Steven says, walking into the kitchen having left the chocolates on his book covered table. “Pardon me, Love.” He says gently, putting a hand on your waist to coax you out of his way to reach the cupboard you wandered in front of.

Your breath hitches at the contact, and you step back out his touch. Your eyes drop down to the top of his sweats as he reaches up, shirt lifting just enough to expose the a groomed happy trail that disappears under the band. A blush tints your cheeks and you walk away entirely, pulling the hot chocolate mix down from on top of the fridge.

You two seem to do this a few times a week. Have a treat, drink hot chocolate, and vent to each other. Steven has always been there for you. When you and your colleague were fighting, he gave you wonderful advice and comforted you. When you had a nightmare and couldn’t sleep, he helped you forget about it and sent you back to bed. You didn’t have another nightmare the rest of the week.

It’s not all just him helping you though. Steven loves your company. He has always told you his door is always open and to please visit him whenever you feel it. You’ve helped him combat his sleep walking, as he calls it, and gave him the advice of the tape over the door to bring him some comfort knowing he didn’t leave his apartment. The ankle chain, that’s all him though. You said it was unnecessary, but he says it helps him sleep. The sand? Every time you visit you sweep his apartment clean of it, but it just appears the next day like he’s purposely leaving piles of it everywhere to keep you in his presence longer.

He never asks anything of you, but it’s in your nature. Even now as he starts complaining while you take mugs he grabbed from his hands.

“I can help, you know.” Steven tells you, helplessly watching you scoop the mix into the mugs.

“It’s fine.” You wave a hand, grabbing the milk and pouring some in. “Are we out of marshmallows?” You ask, seeing there’s none on top of the fridge.

When Steven doesn’t reply, you face him and see his eyes wide and almost glowing. He looks shocked, but a happy shocked as he stares at you. The kettle whistling brings you out of the trance he caught you in, and you go back to finishing the hot chocolate.

“I’ll get some tomorrow.” Steven says. You glance at him with a small smile.

“I like the chocolate filled ones. Remember those?” You ask, bringing the hot mugs to the table you sit with him at. Books stacked to the side to make room for your drinks and box of chocolate now open and set between you both.

“I do, yeah. They were quite good. Do you remember the sour ones?” He asks. You laugh and he smiles wider watching you do so.

“I don’t know how anyone thought it was a good idea to make sour marshmallows!“ You reply, picking up a caramel filled chocolate. “One day we will find the perfect marshmallow.”

“Indeed. Cheers, Love.” Steven holds up his mug and you clink them together, careful not to spill any. A sip tells you it’s still hot, but absolutely delish as usual. Sweet and chocolatey, it leaves a warm trail down the back of your throat as you hum and set it down.

“Thank you for putting up with me so much. I know I’ve been coming here a lot lately. I don’t want to be a bother.” You say before biting into the chocolate you forgot was in your hand. Steven watches you for a moment, then blinks and shakes his head.

“You don’t bother me. I love- I love your company.” He tells you with a genuine, bright smile.

You can’t help but smile back, mouth full of chocolate as your hand slowly gets covered in the half melted treat. You hurriedly shove it in your mouth upon realizing it, and Steven laughs at how worried you got over losing the treat to the warmth of your palm.

“Do you have any other dates lined up?“ Steven asks nonchalantly. You shake your head immediately, recalling you deleted your dating apps and have lost hope looking for love. Who needs it when you have Steven and chocolate, right? Even if he’s just a friend, you wish he was more most times. It feels like Steven is the only man you need your life lately.

“I’m done dating. No one wants anything but a fling. Even this girl at work tried to get me to go home with her. I’m tired of being used and then thrown to the street right after.” You rant, sipping your drink before humming, Steven listening with intent eyes, chewing on his own chocolate piece. “Every time I show up to a date, they act surprised and make the same, retched comment about my weight. Like they didn’t use their eyes and looked at my profile to begin with to see what I look like. I’m too stressed already with work, I don’t need to deal with every man I meet degrading me.”

“I would never degrade you, Love. You’re gorgeous.” Steven says and that makes your cheeks red as you hide behind your mug with a smile. Your stomach flips, hands squeezing the mug as you cross one leg over the other. After a moment of silence, you set the down your drink, squeezing your thighs together and looking at Steven from across the table.

This perfect man has the audacity to suck the chocolate off his fingers right in front of you. Even after saying he would never degrade you, you wonder what that side of Steven is like. So sweet, so kind, but what about when he’s in bed with a woman? Is he kind? Is he gentle? Curiosity gets the best of you as you clear your throat, causing him to look at you with those brown eyes, finger falling from his mouth with a pop.

“Even if I asked you too?” You don’t know where the confidence came from. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep this week, or maybe the sugar high, or maybe just being so stressed you want to find the perfect way to relax. That way, at the moment, is to be with this perfect man and learn about his body. Or maybe, let him learn every curve and freckle on yours.

“Hm?” Steven tilts his head, eyes a bit wide as if he heard your question, but can’t believe you asked it.

“If I asked you to… would you degrade me?” You ask bravely, voice steady and strong as you lean on the table. You bring your fingers to your lips, sucking off the chocolate with direct eye contact. Steven probably was being innocent, just wanting to savor every last drop of the treat, but you? You are teasing him with your every last breath as you bring your bare foot up under the table and rest it gently on his knee.

You watch Steven as he sucks in a breath, looking down like he can’t believe you’re touching him or even looking at him. But he takes a moment and composes himself, looking back to you as you drop your now clean hands to the table and hold your warm mug.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Steven asks. You almost choke on your own spit when he asks you, your turn to be shocked. He’s so soft looking, eyes pouty as ever and head tilted. His curls hang over his forehead and his fingers resting in his lap, locked together.

“Yes.” You breathe out without a second thought.

This is the moment you’ve waited months for, and it’s finally here. To be with him, not just for a conversation, but for more. More than sharing chocolates and pastries. More than venting about the smallest things to stay longer than necessary. This is your moment, and you’re gonna fucking take it.

Steven surprises you then, slowly siding down under the table. He takes your foot in his hand, gently placing a kiss to the top of it before working his way your leg as it rests over his shoulder. You push the chair back, wanting to see what he could be up to. Your knee bends, foot hanging against his back as Steven sits pretty on his knees between your legs. All for you.

“This is a sight.” You breathe out, watching Steven’s hands run up your thighs and grab your shorts. You lift up a bit, allowing him to pull your shorts and panties down easier. The chair is cold against you bottom as you relax into it, eyes on Steven as he looks up at you.

Pupils blown, brown eyes wide. Your heart is racing, stomach knotting. You feel your pulse through your entire body as his hands run along your thighs before spreading them apart, resting each leg over his shoulder as he does.

Your toes curls when his lips meet your inner thighs. His breath is hot against your skin, tongue even hotter as he licks dangerously close to your entrance, but not quite.

“You’re teasing.” You whisper out, breaths becoming uneven as anticipation gets the best of you. His eyes look up at yours as he sucks a love bite into your inner thigh. You can’t take your eyes off of Steven if you tried with how intently he’s looking up at you, how intimate this moment is.

It’s just the two of you. Rain hitting the windows, lights warm around the apartment. Your quick, faint breaths mixing with the sweet sounds of Steven sucking on your other inner thigh, leaving marks only you two will see.

“Steven, please.” You finally whimper, tired of the teasing. You’re getting antsy and want to feel his tongue where you need it most.

“Hold still.” Steven chuckles as you squirm, making you heat up even more. In the most intimate time you’ve ever spent with Steven, he still manages to give you that dorky smile and lord, it’s a sight to hold.

His smile falters as his eyes drop down, looking directly at your wet, pulsing pussy. He licks his lips, and you nearly faint watching him.

Thats when his eyes look up to yours, and he leans forward agonizingly slowly, before licking a long, rough stipe the length of your already dripping cunt. He stops at your clit, putting it gently between his teeth and sucking. You moan, not being able to keep quiet any longer as your hands drop to his hair, tangling themselves in his curls.

“Oh, Steven.” You whimper, wanting more than just his tongue. More than just his face between your legs. You need more.

As if he can read your mind, his fingers glide under your thigh and slide between your lips. You let out a gasp, feeling them push inside of you and curl while he continues to suck on your clit. It’s almost like he’s a pro at this with all the little moans and gasps he’s pulling from you. Like he’s living a double life studying the female anatomy of pleasure. You don’t question it though, not yet. You’re too busy tangling your hands in his hair with your head dipped forward to see the beautiful sight.

“Steven.” You whisper out because it’s all you can manage. His eyes snap up to yours and you tug on his curls. This isn’t what you want. No matter how amazing this feels, you want him to feel this good as well. He deserves it.

Reading your eyes, he slowly sits back taking his fingers out. You let out a short whimper at the loss of contact, and it’s like he almost wants to go back for more, but you drop your feet to the ground and lean down. Taking his hand in yours, you pull him up and lead him to the bed.

Both of you stand at the end, looking at each other. Eyes blown from lust and a small smile pulling at each others lips. Then you’re kissing again, and your tearing the clothes off his back and dropping to your knees.

Steven, Steven… sweet, innocent Steven, he pulls you back up and you give him a questioning look.

“It’s about you tonight, Love.” He tells you. That makes your knees shake at the thought. Never has a man thought about you during sex, only about himself. Then, along comes Steven as he pulls the hoodie and top over your head, leaving you naked in the chill of the apartment.

Your eyes start dancing across his bare chest, and you easily get distracted by the thought of him above you, the chain dangling over your face. You think about how you want to take it into your mouth and suck on it to see his reaction as he fucks you, but before your mind can make these thoughts tumble out of control Steven places a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze to his. It’s the smallest gesture, one not many would think to do. You are naked after all, so, why would he want to see your face? He see’s if every day.

The smallest nod of his head towards the bed leads you to crawling onto it, Steven following, but not before he strips completely and you’re left gawking at him. The only thought running through your head is wanting to taste him, to suck on that big, beautiful cock, but all thoughts leave your mind when he climbs on top of you. Once again getting lost in a kiss, your hands traveling his flexing back and arms as his trail across your breasts.

“Please, Steven.” You whimper into the kiss, wrapping your legs around him as your hand reaches down and grabs just what you desire.

“Oh, fuck…” Steven groans and it’s music to your ears. Never have you heard Steven curse, and now it was you that pulled it out of him? It makes you start to moan at the thought.

Running your thumb over the tip of his cock, you gather up his pre-cum and bring it up to your lips. The fascinating look on Steven’s eyes says it all as you slowly lick your lips and put your thumb in your mouth, tasting him.

“Now this is a sight.” He breathes out, copying your words from earlier. You smile around your thumb before pulling it out, wanting nothing more than to take him in your mouth and feel the strands of cum shoot down your throat, but you refrain. No way you’re going to disrupt what Steven wants, and what he wants by the look in his eyes, is you.

“Fuck me already.” You say, caressing his cheek with your hand. A turn of his head, and you watch him kiss your palm softly. You don’t know what you’re feeling, well, you know. It’s lust. But something more twirls inside. Maybe it’s love? “Please.” You add and that makes Steven smirk. He likes to hear you beg, you note. You’ll remember that.

He leans down then, placing a kiss to your forehead and down to where your pulse beats fast in your neck. He sucks and bites and you definitely can’t take it anymore.

“Steven, please. Please.” You beg, rolling up your hips nearly putting him inside you yourself. Instead, Steven reaches down and pushes himself up the length of your folds. He soaks himself in you, and it makes your eyes flutter when the tip of his cock brushes over your sensitive clit.

With another plea leaving your swollen lips, Steven locks his eyes with yours and pushes himself past your folds and into your pussy. You gasp for air, spreading your legs wider for him to fill you up as much as possible.

Steven groans, loudly, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Starting in the back of his throat, he bites gently onto your shoulder and lets out an almost growl.

“All right?” He asks breathlessly. You bite your lip, too lost in your mind and the feeling to hear his words. When you don’t respond, Steven lifts up to look at your face. He almost looks worried as he watches a tear escape your eye. “Love?” Steven says in question, wanting to know you’re okay.

“Mm.” You smile and wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss. Rolling your hips, he takes it as a signal and start pulling out, only to push right back in.

Steven is slow at first as he moves his lips from yours to your neck, shoulder and back up. A breath leaves your lips when you see the chain, swaying from the movement. Letting your thoughts win, you lift your head and pull the chain in your mouth with your tongue. Steven looks down at you, stuttering just the slightest at the sight. His eyes widen, yours turn to slits full of mischief. Slowly, you tilt your head forward, taking more of the chain into your mouth until your lips meet his neck.

You feel him swallow under your lips, and you hum before sucking to mark him. Wanting him to remember this night, and you do just that as you pull away. Your eyes find Steven’s again as you open your mouth, letting your tongue push out the chain and then your head rests back down into the pillow.

That’s when something like a switch flips as Steven picks up his pace, leaning down and biting across your chest, leaving perfect marks across it. He gets rougher, slamming into you. He pulls moan after moan from your lips and you let him do whatever he wants.

Steven leans back, grabbing your ankle and pushing it up over his shoulder. The new angle lets him push deeper, hitting the perfect spot to leave you a teary eyed, whimpering mess.

“Oh, Steven.” You whimper out, hands now clinging onto the blankets under you like it’s your last resort. Your eyes squeeze shut, no longer able to easily hold them open. You feel his lips meet your ankle for a split second before his fingers go back to rub your clit. “Yes.” You cry out, rolling your hips to start to meet his thrusts.

“So good.” Steven groans out, leaving you moaning from his praise. “I want you to cum for me, Love.” He urges, fucking you harder and faster than before.

Your eyes keep fluttering back into your head, nearing your orgasm quickly. Not a single thought is in your mind besides Steven. Steven.

“Steven.” You moan. “I’m…” You can’t even finish that sentence if you tried because you’re left a shuddering, moaning mess. Your eyes roll back, lids fluttering. Your body clenches, holding Steven inside you where he fills you up as he cums as well with a groan and burying himself inside as deep as possible.

After the longest, best orgasm of your life, your left with a cramp in your thigh and panting as Steven lays beside you. You rub your thigh, but Steven takes over and rubs it for you, kneading out the knot formed as you roll your head to look at him. Steven is staring at the ceiling, a beautiful, tired grin on his face as he works your thigh.

“Can I stay here tonight? With you?” You ask softly, your hand reaching up to rub his chest. Steven looks at you, grin faltering when he sees how tired you look.

“Of course, Love.” He says, reaching out and pulling you into his chest. You happily curl up in his arms, sleep tugging at you even though you know you should get up and clean up, but after that? No way are you standing right now and Steven knows it as he kisses the top of your head and lets you fall right asleep in his arms.

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absolutelyferal · 5 months

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Yuh

Pedro Pascal by Norman Jean Roy for Esquire (2023)

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absolutelyferal · 5 months

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you should always be careful when you fall back asleep again after waking up because sometimes you will just have a pleasant little snooze but sometimes you'll get trapped in TIME PRISON. unfortunately there is no way to predict this.

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absolutelyferal · 6 months

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Unabashedly and unfathomably

boys with pretty long floppy hair that i can tug on when they’re between my thighs, yeahh i need that right now

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absolutelyferal · 6 months

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Utterly Enraptured

Pairing; Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

tags; breeding, little bit of overstimulation, Miguel goes into rut, creampie, wordcount 4k

Summary; Miguel seems to have forgotten about a certain side effect from having half of his genetic makeup being spider DNA

EXPLICIT - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

—

Wet, warm, perfectly molded to his length. Large palms pressing against thighs, his mouth quieting your little gasps and hiccups. His murmured praise, his filthy tongue pressing against your hole wetly, licking long stripes up your skin. Hungry. The twitch of his hips, the choked whimpers, he wants it. Needs it.

You’re gasping, trying in vain to muffle your moans into the pillow while he completely and irrevocably rearranges your insides. You’re so fucking sweet – god, he wants nothing more than to stuff you full of his seed, pull out and admire the view of him seeping out from your weeping pussy.

He wants to push it all back in with spit slicked fingers, kiss away all of your tears and do it all over again until you’re sobbing in pleasure, begging for more, more, more –

Miguel wakes up feeling fire burn at the base of his spine and the undeniable hardening of his cock. He immediately wants to just roll over and go back to bed.

It’s 7:47, he has to get up in ten minutes, he’s way too hot but the floors are probably freezing, his blankets are so so comfortable and his dick is aching. So far, great start to his morning. Miguel turns to his side, finding your side of the bed empty. He resists the urge to groan.

Right, you have your early work shift today.

He mourns the loss of the warmth as he kicks off his blankets with one languid motion. For a moment he’s tempted to just indulge himself right now, right here. Your scent is still in the air, soaked into your pillow, heady and intoxicating.

Absent-mindedly he palms himself, cupping the sizable bulge and considers. Miguel wants you, to be completely honest. Always does. Like a thirst that will never be quenched, he craves you. All of you. Your hands, your flesh, your blood — if he could, he’d worship every single inch of you for the rest of eternity.

And you’re not here. Unfortunately. He imagines your hand, smaller than his, wrapping securely around his length, the other curled loosely around his hot, swollen balls, and slowly exhales.

He can wait. He has self control. He doesn’t have time to fist himself like a wild animal. He has an online meeting to attend since he, for once, is taking a break from the Spider Verse for a day or two.

Miguel heaves a sigh and gets up, stretching lazily. The chill seeps into his skin and he resigns himself to taking a cold shower.

(He ends up having to clean spurts of creamy white off of the shower walls anyway. He is so fucked.)

—

There’s something wrong with him. There’s something wrong with today. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Miguel can’t get you out of his head.

You usually don’t leave his mind regardless, but at the moment, all he can think of is bending you over the nearest flat surface, letting you slather at his tip, feeling your sweet, tight pussy clench around him while he whispers obscenities in your ear.

He thinks of you all day, but his thoughts are never this…vividly vulgar. Miguel will admit to having the stray passing instance but right now? He’s practically been a depraved fucking dog for the past three hours straight.

This morning didn’t help. That damn dream didn’t help. He’s been staring at his laptop for the past thirty minutes trying desperately to redirect his thoughts to something more productive, his board members are droning on and on about stock values and whatnot – he has work to finish, but jesus, he can’t think of anything but you.

Your taste, your heat, your everything. He’s hard as rock as he mumbles some bullshit excuse to his meeting members before shutting off his laptop with a definite click. It’s as if a fog has filled his head, keeping him drunk and dizzy. Miguel’s body feels unbearably hot right now, scorching, needing.

“Lyla,” his voice is strangled. “What’s the date?”

His assistant flickers to life next to him, drawing up a calendar.

“Mm…it’s the 8th,” she says, blinking down at him. “Ah, I see. Your uh, time of the month, y’know?” She wiggles her eyebrows and he growls, waving her away. She pops up a little ways away, putting her hands on her hips.“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, man,” Lyla frowns. “Just telling you,”

“Thanks,” He says bitingly, dismissing her and groaning into his hands. You won’t be home until later – and later means that he’s going to have to suffer for the next few hours, alone and unbearably horny. Wonderful.

Mentally, he berates himself with a low hiss, feeling annoyed that he didn't connect the dots earlier. His throat is dry and he swallows raspily.

He should’ve looked at the date, how could he have forgotten? Heightened sensitivity, overheating, inability to focus, the urge to fuck you into next week — all signs pointing to a very large neon billboard that says “SPIDER INSTINCT FUCKERY” in big bold letters. In other words, mating period.

It happens every other month through the 8th to the 10th when his body decides that it’s time to procreate and do nothing else for the next two days.

He sucks in a ragged breath slowly, trying to calm his fast beating heart. It doesn’t work, only serving to remind him of the pulsing in his chest and between his legs.

It wasn’t this bad before he started dating you. All he had to do was tug on his cock a few times and he was fine, for the most part. Anything else could be burned off by fighting criminals and doing his usual dimensional overseeing.

That was before you. You and your gorgeous smile, you and your honeyed scent, you and your burning touch. He’s so hungry — greedy. He wants your flesh in his hands, your slick on his chin, your hands on his body.

He doesn’t even realize he’s getting up from the couch and migrating to your shared room until his knees hit the mattress and his huge frame curls up on your side of the bed. His cock is stupidly hard, twitching and throbbing from where it’s formed a tent in his sweatpants.

Miguel can already feel the precum seeping out of him and staining his boxers. A whine rips itself out of his throat as he buries his head into your pillow, basking in your familiar sweet smell.

A heady mixture of your favorite shampoo, perfume and body, all swirling around him as he grinds his lower half into the bed desperately like a dog in heat.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

He needs you, craves you. His large hand snakes down to wrap around his weeping length, the other pulling down his sweat pants and boxers to give him some relief. It’s agony, waiting for you to come home.

He wishes you were here right now, wishes that he could pepper your face with kisses and croon apologies while he slowly bottoms out in your tight cunt while you writhe beneath him.

Or on top of him. He doesn’t give a damn. Any position you want, he’ll do it.

Just imagining your sweet whines and whimpers has his breath labored. He presses the heel of his palm against his stiff length, hissing at the jolt of pleasure and sensitivity that burns through him. It’s painfully dry, but he takes the slick precum dripping out of his tip to aid the tight slide of his fist over his fat cock. God, he just needs to pump you full of him and fuck it all back into you. The thought of you, all swollen and glowing with his kid makes him nearly feral.

His hips jerk upwards and he can’t help but imagine your hand instead of his, can’t help but imagine how much better it would feel.

He gasps quietly as his thumb presses against his slit, jaw tightening, fangs threatening to break skin. The hand currently not wrapped around his cock is clenching the bedsheets hard enough to rip.

He just needs to wait. He just has to wait a little longer. You’ll be home soon.

—

You slip off your shoes at the door, setting them aside on the rack near the entrance. The warmth from the apartment chases away the chill and you set down your bag, heaving a sigh of relief. You’ve been looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend all day since he has a rare day at home today.

You peek around the hall, letting your aching feet be comforted by the rugs near the living room. Where is Miguel anyways?

“Heyyyy,” Lyla pops up in front of you suddenly, grinning when you startle. “Looking for Miguel?”

You set a hand on your chest trying to calm your jackrabbiting heart, before giving her a small smile.

“Yeah. Is he here right now? I mean he said he would be, but I don’t know if he’s doing his Spider-man thing right now,” You tilt your head as Lyla’s expression flickers. She adjusts her glasses, glancing at your bedroom door.

“Well uh, he’s in there. Might wanna be careful though,” She mutters, checking out her bright pink nails absentmindedly. You raise an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

In lieu of explanation she draws up a calendar and materializes a glitching pen in her hands, circling the date. Your frown in confusion.

“The…8th?” You blink and she nods. Why would today be significant? It’s not your anniversary, the only thing that comes to mind at the moment is… “Oh.” You swallow dryly, remembering vague flashes from two months ago. Two months ago when he had fucked you silly for what was basically two days, interspersed with breaks in between. Then the sheepish explanation of what he calls "mating period" where his DNA practically drives him insane with rampant horniness.

Lyla nods empathetically.

“Yeah…well, good luck! I've heard that massages really help with soreness.” She vanishes with a pop of golden glimmers, leaving you alone in the hall.

You glance where she had been moments prior before sighing. Dating a man with half of his makeup being spider DNA came with its quirks. Your feet carry you down the hall and you open the door to find –

Oh fuck.

Miguel, in all of his bare glory, strong thighs spread wide, leaving nothing to the imagination. His sweatpants and shirt are in a heap on the floor, most likely thrown in his haste. His heaving chest is gleaming with sweat, abdomen twitching, looking like a Greek God.

And there, his throbbing, swollen cock squeezed tightly in his fist, his hips working back and forth at a languid pace. Long and thick, the tip shining slightly with precum. It makes you salivate, sticky heat beginning to grow between your legs.

The room's atmosphere is heavy as you mindlessly draw closer. Fuck, his gasps and whimpers sound so pretty. Half of his large frame is hanging off the bed as you realize he's on your side, face buried desperately in your pillow.

"B – baby," His words stutter in his throat as your scent overwhelms him, his nostrils flaring. "Please, please, please —fuck, need you so bad," he quivers, taking his hand off of his face to look back at you. He's grimacing, gorgeous plush lips stretched into a pathetic pout and you hum in acknowledgement, putting a hand on his thigh. He twitches but makes no other move.

Your clit throbs in response to the pure neediness in his voice, high and whiny. He sounds utterly wrecked, squeezing his cock and waiting for you to touch him. You’re so close, your hand is on his body, but it’s not where he wants it.

“You’re so desperate, Miguel,” You croon, reaching out slowly and wrapping your hand around his base. He makes a choked sound, his hand falling away to run through his sweaty hair. “Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer for a second, visibly trying to contain himself before he speaks, low and ragged.

“Yes,” He finally hisses, crimson irises foggy and clouded with lust. You hum in approval at his answer, squeezing lightly as you begin to pump him, going at a pace you know is wholly too slow for his taste. “Don’t t — tease me, cariño. Faster, baby, please,” He begs, his breath stuttering in his chest.

You rock back on your heel as you begin stroking faster, your thumb tracing the veins on the underside. Miguel’s eyes roll back as your deliciously hot mouth descends on him, your tongue circling his tip juuust the way he likes it. Fuck, you can feel yourself getting wetter with each trembling hiss and moan you pull out of this man — your man. You separate from him with a pop, licking pre from sticky fingers while he watches hungrily.

The smell of arousal — your arousal, invades his senses and his hands twitch and he lunges, pulling you up to him and flipping you over. You yelp in surprise as his hands immediately squeeze flesh, your hips, your thighs, your ass, anywhere he has access to.

You tilt up to kiss him and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and when you allow him access inside he moans quietly, fangs digging into your lower lip lightly.

Your shirt is practically discarded at the speed of light and you shiver for a second at the cold washing over your skin before Miguel's all over you again.

He leans forward to fumble with your bra, fingers struggling to unclasp the hooks on the back. You laugh and pull it off yourself, to which he rolls his eyes fondly before his mirth is devoured by desire.

Thick fingers nimbly pull at your pants waistline.

"Take these off too, sweetheart," He whispers, leaving wet open mouth kisses trailing down your neck. You shiver, obliging quickly and kicking them off. They land somewhere on the floor and you don't care enough to look for them. Not when Miguel is between your legs, staring down at your clothed pussy like it's his last meal.

He inhales slowly, leaning down to press his head against your thigh. You smell so fucking intoxicating, he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs and make you scream in pleasure. But first he has to get rid of your panties.

"Hurry up, Miguel, please," You whine, wiggling your hips as if to try and encourage him. As if he needs any sort of encouragement.

"Do you care about these panties?" He asks, quick and low. You blink.

"No…? –! " You gasp as he lowers his head and fucking rips them off of you in one quick motion with his damn teeth. "Miguel!"

"I'll get you new ones, baby. Promise." He kisses your inner thigh, holding you down with two large searing hands. "As many as you want. As long as I get to have this goddamn pussy, I'll get you anything."

Your glistening lips look absolutely delicious, all wet and soaked from watching him play with his cock in front of you. He wants to put his mouth on your throbbing, swollen clit until you sob, wants your pussy in his face, wants his tongue in you while you grab at his hair and urge him for more. You'd taste divine, and he nearly just decides to do it anyway.

But his cock is so hard it almost hurts and he's about three seconds away from getting blue balls, so instead he sinks one finger in your drenched cunt. Your breath hitches and you turn your head into a pillow as he begins to finger fuck you in earnest. The obscene sound of slick gushing out from your hole makes Miguel nearly feral, nearly has his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels your tightness squeeze and pulse around his thick digit. You hiss at the stretch, slow pain and growing pleasure intertwining as Miguel goes slow adding a second.

"You're doing so good, so good, baby. You feel so – fuck, so good. Can you take one more?" He asks breathlessly. "C’mon, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You nod amidst blurry vision, gasping as he slides another finger in. His pace is fast and punishing, and the final goddamn nail on the coffin is the way his fingers press into your g-spot, while his thumb rubs messy circles on your puffy clit.

"Cum, baby, you can do it, you can fucking cum for me, can't you?" He latches onto your tit, swirling his tongue around your nipple in such a way that makes your head foggy.

“Mig – guel!” You whine brokenly as he rolls it between his teeth, sharp points of pleasure burning up your spine like wildfire. Miguel can’t help but groan at the feeling of your sweet cunt clamping down on his fingers, and he increases his speed at the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. You're so so close and when the building coil in your lower stomach finally snaps, you sob, gushing all over his palm.

Your bare chest heaves as he murmurs sweet praise in your ear, telling you that "You did so good, cariño," and "Look at you, you're so gorgeous all spread out like this,". Miguel drags his tongue down your neck, pulling away for a second to suck your juices off his fingers in an awfully erotic display of tongue, saliva, and a flash of a grin.

He presses kisses to your face, trying his absolute damndest not to hump you like a fucking dog but he’s waited so long and he’s going to go fucking insane if he doesn’t get your pretty pussy wrapped around his cock in the next two seconds.

“C’mere, baby,” Miguel takes himself in hand, his other keeping your thighs spread so he can see your twitching hole all wet and ready for him. “Can’t wait any damn longer – I’ll fuckin’ – explode or something.”

Looking up at him from your position is absolutely deadly. His hair is disheveled, strands slipping from their usually neat positions, his expression is utterly and completely devoted as his chest heaves. Your eyes travel down to shamelessly stare at his massive package, complete with his proportionally large hand curled around the weeping length.

He’s so stiff that he splits your lips easily, and he groans at the feeling of your slick coating the underside of his cock. You can’t help but gasp as he grinds against you slowly before the head catches on your clit and pushes inside.

And oh god, he could die right here and be happy, he could fucking die with the tip of his dick buried in your tight pussy and think that his life is fulfilled. It takes everything in him not to cum and paint your insides in a creamy white. Your wet walls are so slick and he hisses as they clamp down on him.

“Fuuuuck… baby you — you gotta loosen up for me, relax — mnnshit — “ he gasps, and you cry out, shifting underneath him. He rubs sloppy circles on your clit, his breathing labored as a few more inches of his monstrous cock slide in, “There we go, there we — nnngh, okay, good, so fucking good, you’re such a pretty girl,” he babbles nonsensically, practically losing his mind in the warmth.

“M — Miguel,” You hiccup, nudging him out of his daze. “Move — please, s’not enough,” You want him in your guts, you want him to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is the shape of his cock.

And who is he to deny you?

He shoves the rest of himself in in one fluid motion, his throat closing in on itself as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush to yours. His mouth parts slightly as his lips form an o shape, and he thrusts once, caging you in his burly arms.

“Oh shit — I’m gonna move, okay? M’gonna move,” he warns you, before pulling out slowly only to slam his hips back into yours with wild abandon. You suck in a startled breath as he begins to absolutely fuck your brains out, fire igniting deep in your lower stomach again. There’s none of his usual careful approach, there’s no teasing, no smug remarks. He’s focused on one thing and one thing only: stuffing you full of his seed until he physically can’t anymore.

You can barely get anything out as he grinds against you, his dick so deep inside that you’re sure that he’s showing through your lower stomach. Fuck – he feels so good as he fills your tight pussy, rocking precisely in all of your sensitive spots. The head of him practically kisses your damn cervix, sending you rocketing towards your second orgasm of the night.

Your brain is so mushy and pleasure-drowned that it takes you a second to realize that he’s still talking and oh fuck.

“Let me fill you, le— let me cum inside, please, please, baby, I wan – nngh, I want you all round and swollen f’me,” he sounds utterly wrecked, desperate and hungry all rolled in at once, “Wouldn’t you look so pretty an’ gorgeous? Pleas – e, please? Need you full, all full of me,” Miguel begs, grunting lowly when you clamp down on him from the downright filth flowing from his mouth.

“Yes – Miguel, just –nnhgod, oh shit, oh fuck,” You lose the tail end of your sentence as your head melts out of your ears and pleasure sears through your veins. Miguel whimpers at your words, shoving himself deeper than you thought was humanly possible.

“Waited so long for you, baby, was so – was so lonely, needed you – need you – “ He hits a spot that has you keening, eyes rolling back and your head bumping against the headboard of the bed. You’re driving him utterly insane, your moans and cries sounding like a blended symphony of bliss pounding through his eardrums. He leans down to litter any inch of bare skin he has access to in dark marks, his burning mouth trailing wetly down the valley between your breasts.

“M’close, Mig – uel, I’m going to cum, baby –” You manage to gasp out before you’re overwhelmed completely and your vision erupts into stars as you gush around him for the second time in one day. It feels like someone has poured molten pleasure down your veins and you’re incandescent with it.

Miguel chokes, low and deep in his throat, feeling your slick pussy tighten around his girthy cock, slathered in your juices. It tears a downright animalistic sound out of him, a trembling snarl from somewhere in his chest as he thrusts once, twice, then finally pumps you full of creamy thick seed.

His mouth is agape, transfixed in a silent ‘o’ as his hips stutter and his balls draw up tight, every atom in his body devoted to filling you completely. When he’s finished, he rolls his hips a few more times, fucking his cum deeper inside of you despite his hiss of overstimulation.

Your limbs are putty in his hands as he slides out slowly and adjusts you into a more comfortable position, his eyes lingering on the way some of his cum drips out of your loose hole. He pushes it all back in with two fingers, giving you a small smile of apology at your choked mutter, before collapsing down next to you and dragging you close to his chest.

“...How long does this last again?” You rasp, voice sore from screaming. Miguel hums in contemplation, nosing your shoulder from where he’s draped over you.

“About a day and a half more to go,” He responds languidly after a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

You know you’re going to be so sore by the end of it. You know you’ll probably be feeling it for weeks on end after. You know you’ll probably have to take a few sick days to recover too.

“Mhm,” You answer, kissing his cheek. “I can handle it,”

“That’s good,” He replies quietly, and you stiffen, feeling his fat softened cock twitch against your thigh. He raises his head to give you a semi sheepish look and you gulp.

Maybe you can’t handle it, actually. It’s okay though, since Miguel will take care of you long after.

—

Man im so sorry this was pretty late. At least i managed to get it in before October ended. Also I’d let that man dick me down any day of the week, 24/7 😻😻

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absolutelyferal · 7 months

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Taylor Swift on film at the VMAs 2023

creds: jalen hemphill on insta

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absolutelyferal · 9 months

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So what if I posted the whole thing? I just finally watched the movie and yeah, I’m positively obsessed with Miguel O’Hara. With his character, his story, his everything👀👀iykyk. And ik how I describe things are not like the movie, we can chill, it’s fiction and (my version). And I have a whole ass story behind Reader and him and this just a lil peak, if you want me to post the whole thing I definitely will 👀. ANYWAY, here’s (one of) my Miguel WIP!

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader // NSFW; MDNI; SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!

*~.*~.*~.*~.*

Miguel is back at HQ. In his office, another anomaly sent back to its rightful dimension but not enough steam blown off. He’s still tense as he sits back at his desk in his suit. He always is. His eyes wander as he leans back and land on the hair tie. Your blue scrunchie on his wrist still after all that. A little less blue, a little red and brown, but there. He sighs and stands, going over to the fridge remembering you left behind a treat for him.

“If you miss me.” You had said, like he doesn’t miss you all the time. Like he wishes he could be home with you instead. He doesn’t like his job, he just wants to be with you now. It’s tiring.

Miguel takes the little container and stands up straight, opening it up and blinking. A peach cut in half, whipped topping of sorts laid on top. He drops into his chair heavily, taking out half a peach with topping dripping back into the box. Coating his fingers. He takes a big bite, slurping topping and juice into his mouth. It coats his lips and tongue, drips down his chin. He nearly groans outwardly it reminds him of you so much. And you do it on purpose, eating all these fruits and drinking your smoothies just to be sweeter. To taste like peaches and cream.

You had just wiped your face with a makeup wipe and used cocoa butter to soften the dehydrated skin down onto your chest. Hair gets pulled back with a new scrunchie, loose in a messy bun. Strands falling into your face as you take another long sip of wine. Standing, you walk over to the long mirror and unzip the side of your dress, letting it fall from your body downed in a perfect lace teddy suit. Baby blue to be exact, cinching your waist and riding high on your hips. A low cut scallop-trimmed neck and basically string for straps. Squatting down, you pick up the dress and toss it into the hamper. Looking back to your body, a sigh escapes. You bought this for Miguel, thinking he might like it.

Your eyes lift to your own, about to fall deeper into your loneliness only to find red eyes in the mirror. Walking into the bedroom and up behind you, claws digging into your hips as Miguel leans down putting his lips by your ear; he gazes into your eyes in the mirror.

“Peaches and cream, hm?” Miguel murmurs, kissing your exposed neck you tilt to the side as your hands cover his own.

“I made it myself.” You inform, voice all breath from your lungs being caught by his sudden appearance. Joy that he came home pushing your sadness away, fear he’ll leave again soon after he’s done with you. He groans against your neck, closing his eyes as he bites and sucks a territorial mark until you whine, tugging his soft curls. “Will you stay with me?” Your voice pleads.

His eyes look to yours and for a moment, Miguel wonders what he’s done to his poor Angel. Leaving you wondering and lonely in this picture perfect house. Nothing but a dog and A.I. to keep you company.

“I’m not going anywhere for a while, mi amore. I missed you.” He replies and you smile softly, turning in his arms to hug around his neck and kiss his perfect, plump lips. Tasting the peaches and cream on his tongue. Gasping when he picks you up and see his suit’s top half slowly disappearing as he walks to the bed. Large hands gripped tightly under your thighs.

Of course, because she does, Sammie, your loving retriever bounds in and jumps on the bed just as he kneels on the edge. Miguel frowns at Sammie and she runs off just as fast as she entered, and you’re left stifling your laughter against his neck, but it’s no use because Miguel drops you in the middle of the big bed. You let out a broken giggle as you look up at him.

“She just wanted to say hi, big grump.” You tease, poking his bicep as he hovers over you. His eyes crinkle in amusement, just enough for you to see as his lips twitch. Then he smirks.

“Remind me to get locks on the door when our baby can walk.” Miguel tells you. Your eyes widen slightly as your heart beats out of your chest.

“What baby?” You ask quietly.

“The one I’m about to make with you, cariño.” He says.

“Oh.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel x y/n #nsfw #across the spiderverse #writing wip #smut #18+ minors dni #Miguel ohara smut #x reader

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absolutelyferal · 11 months

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A very horny idea I’ve been going back to for months now… MDNI 18+ ONLY… Steven x f!reader

An exhausting day lead to Steven calling it a night all too early for his lover’s liking. She was eyeing him from across the loft. Steven was doing nothing besides reading in their shared bed, glasses perched on his nose. The sun had just set, the only light in the loft being the full moon’s rays shining through the windows. Save for a lamp beside Steven’s bedside, the loft was dim and peaceful. Quiet and warm. Too warm. She’s nearly breaking into a sweat watching him lick his finger before turning the page.

She really didn’t want to bother him knowing how long days can be for him and the other’s. Living with a chaotic mind is hard enough, but doing so with a full time job? Her heart aches for him, wanting to let him rest and enjoy his downtime… but it’s too long. And he’s right there. Within reach, yet she still stands in the kitchen. A once scalding, late night coffee now chilled to room temperature. She doesn’t care though. Not when Steven Grant is her lover and he’s right there in front of her looking like that.

“Now, I know you like to admire, but you’ve been staring all evening, darling.” Steven suddenly says calmly, eyes not faltering from scanning the page.

“Sorry.” Her reflex response, before she puts a hand up and meets his eyes. He’s waiting, closing his book and setting it aside so she has his undying attention. Steven’s hands fold together in his lap, head tilting up as he watches her take a nervous sip of cold coffee and avert her gaze. He sighs and she frowns, setting her mug down and taking a breath to compose herself.

“How tired are you… exactly?” She decides to ask rather than explain what’s running through her busy mind. Asking that instead, rather than explaining the effect he has on her doing something as simple as reading existing. Existing when Steven is her’s to love and cherish and worship.

Steven tilts his head to the side, taking his glasses off sadly and setting them aside. He shifts on the bed, straightening his posture some.

“What are you up to, love?” Steven questions, watching as she starts to tip toe slowly his way. Floor boards creaking under every precise step, every enticing sway of her hips.

Rather than answering his valid question, she climbs up the bed and sits. Straddling his lap, her hands rake into his hair and his hold her hips on instinct. Steven’s eyes look into his lovers, waiting still, patient as ever, for her simple ask. An ask he knows he’ll say yes too no matter what it could be.

“Can I tie you up?” She asks softly, a question she’s been heating up just thinking about asking. A question Steven definitely was not expecting from such an Angel.

“What?” Steven breathes, nearly chokes out. Yes, she’s been quiet all evening and acting a little odd, but this is what’s been occupying her own busy mind? These thoughts? These, rather intriguing thoughts that Steven has some trouble processing.

She shifts a little, taking his strong hands in hers before lifting them above his head. Leaning forward, her hands press his against the headboard with her forehead knocking his. Their noses brush, lips mere centimeters apart. Breaths mix as she smiles slowly, seeing Steven’s wide eyes.

For ages the woman has thought about tying up her pretty boyfriend, Steven for that matter, and now that she’s here… it’s going to happen, she know it will. The love struck man would do anything for his love. His darling, dear, dove, beloved-

“Angel…” Steven nearly stutters out, his lust blown eyes locked with hers. She’s lost in the euphoria, the power and confidence this position has given her the pleasure of feeling.

His neck craned back slightly, tasseled curls tickling her face. Steven’s breaths are soft and quick, leaving his lips and hitting hers that are quirked up in a smile. A smile that Steven loves to see, and is making him all the more eager. And his sweetheart? She can feel his excitement through the thin pajama shorts loosely hugging her curves.

“Please, Steven?” His name falls so delicately from her lips he couldn’t say no if he tried. All he can do is nod and watch his Angel break into an excited smile. An excitement he doesn’t see often and is always ecstatic to see, especially when it gives her confidence. Steven himself knows he knows that makes him putty in her delicate hands that are leaving his.

She’s giddy while making her way to get a tie. Steven is left to watch her go in aw. Already missing her weight and warmth, he fiddles with his sleeves as he watches her debate between 2 different ties with a fond smile. For what reason, he may never know, but she decides to chose the silver one his lover herself got for the man specifically. He loves that one in particular, and to see her smile while she sways back over makes Steven feel her joy.

Confidently, she straddles Steven’s hips once again and tilts her head. He’s waiting, not wanting to interrupt her thought process or what she has planned for the night. Who knows how this will end, or where this is going even. Steven just knows he’s going to listen to every word, moan, gasp, whimper and breath that falls from those perfect lips.

“Can you say the safe word first so I know you remember?” She questions softly, always wanting to make sure everyone is safe and happy. Especially when trying something new. Steven’s heart swells at the thought.

“Red.” Steven informs quietly, afraid if he’s too loud he’ll burst the bubble she’s formed. It seems she almost relaxes a little hearing the word, so he tilts his head. His hand rubs up the backs of her smooth thighs and knead.

“I trust you, darling.” Steven reassures her, and she nods with a smile of her own.

Sure this time, she takes his hands in hers and presses them back to their new home against the headboard. Using knotting skills she learned from the man himself, she ties him up tight enough to keep him from being able to free himself. Kissing his palms for good measure with her breasts pressed to his face, she leaves a trail down his arm. The anticipation is evident now. The couple heating up as she inches down. Not even the cool October breeze could cool them off.

“Steven.” Voice smooth and sultry, she comes nose to nose with the flushed man. “Stay still for me, honey.” She tells him lightly. Her eyes locked with his right before her. Breaths mixing and bodies pressing closer and closer together. Steven grips the tie, knuckles turning white as his lips part to suck in a breath like he hasn’t been breathing the whole time.

“You have my word.” He promises. A hum of satisfaction reverberates from the woman before she pecks his lips. A kiss sweet enough to nearly clear Steven’s mind of all his worries.

When she starts to shuffle down his body, Steven chases after her swollen lips. A breathy laugh fans across his neck, her hands spreading across his abdomen. He frowns a little, not being amused like she is apparently as she licks the side of his neck. Her lips kiss over his pulse point with a slow roll of her hips against his growing erection. Steven bites in his bottom lip to keep quiet, but that’s much to his lover’s dismay.

“Let me hear you, Steven.”

#moonknight #steven grant #steven grant smut #jake lockley #marc spector #moonknight smut #I’ll finish it if y’all really beg for it #on your knees babe #jkjk #I probably won’t finish this unless it gets enough attention #sorry :)#nsfw

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