jules1331 - Tumblr blog

jules1331 · 10 months

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my poosay rn 💦💦💦💦💦

anyways this is the best miguel smut you’ll ever read

Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t.

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you.

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.”

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die.

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue.

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears.

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy.

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch.

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show.

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it.

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke.

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?”

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

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jules1331 · 1 year

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Out of the Ordinary

Prince Gristle x Y/n

Trope- Friends to lovers

Word count- idk not that long

Summary- What happens when a normal village bergan falls in love with the prince?

WARNINGS- some cussing, very mushy love at the end, they make out, cringe

Authors note- this is completely satire yall, anyways have fun!

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“Honey, wake up! It’s Trolltice!” yelled father

“COMINGGGGG!!!” I yelled out over the loud music that was playing above me, darn our upstairs neighbors were reckless, couldn’t they see she was having an end of the life crisis?!?!

“I swear to the dead fungus if you don’t come out of your room right this instant Y/n Finkler, you will not like what is coming!” screeched mom banging on the old wooden table in the kitchen. “OKAY OKAY OKAY I’M COMING OUT RIGHT NOW!” I fired back, “YOUNG BERGAN ARE YOU TALKING BACK TO ME? OUT. NOW.”

If her day wasn’t bad enough already, her parents were super duper pissed at her. Trolltice, the only one and single day a year that grants all bergans joy. Along with celebrating Trolltice, the king was hosting his son, the prince, his 19th birthday party too. Oh that prince wasn’t just any ordinary prince, oh no no, he was THE Prince Gristle Jr. If he wasn’t in every single girls wet dreams, he was partying every night and dating left and right, leaving girls hearts broken. She wouldn’t really have noticed since her head was always in a good book or her head down low at Bergan Highschool, he had noticed her.

3 MONTHS EARLIER

“Hm, is Prince Gristle here?” the teacher called out taking attendance.

“Huh? Here.” Prince Gristle said stumbling into the class mumbling the “here” under his breath.

Your wide brown orbs widened quickly as the once empty spot next to you (you were always a loner) was filled by Prince Gristle! You gasped and gawked at him. How could he be so cute and hot at the same time? His dark green fluffy hair had been messy in bed and was messily tossed on his head, contouring his defined jawline as he clenched his jaw and let out a yawn. His eyes fluttered open as he shot a quick glance at you, slowly his plump lips turned into a small grin as he smiled at you quietly chuckling a low chuckle, gosh how was he so h- “MS y/n FINKLER, STOP DAYDREAMING I ASKED MULTIPLE TIMES IF YOU WERE HERE, PLEASE START PAYING ATTENTION.”

I snapped my head back at the teacher shame taking over me and my cheeks being overcome with a strawberry pink hue dusting over my face and neck. I heard a few other people snicker before the teacher shushed them and continued on with attendance. I slowly lowered my head, my midnight black locks falling out of my messy braid framing my small petite face. I snuck a glance towards my right, glancing at the prince again. He was looking at me and smiling? I whispered at him, “Why are you looking at me?” he chuckled and whisper-yelled back, “Your just so funny, is your name really Y/n? You look like i could call you min-“

“ Mr. Gristle and Ms. Finkler. Please see me after class.” the teacher stated shooting glares at us like we had targets on our faces.

Prince Gristle nudged my elbow and leaned his framed body closer to mine and i could feel his body heat radiating off of him. “Hey, atleast since we’re in trouble we get to know each better.”

I swallowed quietly, i’ve never been in trouble before and i could almost feel his plump lips on the shell of my ear. Chills ran through me. I knew that if i had moved my head to the right a little we would’ve kissed.

PRESENT

As me and my friend, Mia trudged through the huge masses of people here for Trolltice AND the birthday party, we were ultimately squished half to death. The Trolltice part was so fun and special but most of the adults stayed back to dig out more trolls so Mia grabbed my hand and dragged me along to his party. My biggest fear was he was gonna recognize me and try to talk to me. After what went down in detention, it’d be a holy grail of miracles for him to not recognize me.

3 MONTHS EARLIER

“Since you decided to disobey my rules, you two have detention for 2 hours.” The teacher said.

“But isn’t detention only 1 hour?” I raised my hand and politely asked fumbling with my baby pink skirt.

“My room, my rules.” The teacher spat back.

She turned around and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her muttering about how her pay was too low to have to deal with this.”Um, i’m gonna go sit in the book nook corner… ermm bye.”

I quickly muttered as i scrambled around picking up my books and my baby pink tote bag (i love baby pink), scooting to the cozy corner decorated with fluffy rugs, 2 large blue beanbags, fairy lights, and best of all, books. I plop down on the beanbag closes to the books dropping my tote bag and let out a big sigh of relief. To her, detention was just 2 extra hours of reading time. I pull out my phone, which was probably a century old and turned on my fav music, Drake, because i’m not like other girls! I put on P Power and lay my head back gazing at page 124 of “ It ends with us”.

I was quietly reading when i heard a plop beside me on the other beanbag. I glanced to where the sound came from seeing the prince sit beside me pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “ Hey, uh I was wondering if erm I could get your number?”

“Oh! Um, Uh let me see, XXX-XXX-XXXX.” I said shocked my wide doe eyes.

“Sick! Oh sorry, you can call me my nickname, Gris. So are you single?” he asked.

“Oh yeah! I’m single, I’m not like other girls, i don’t wear uh makeup or date around!” I blurted out not feeling ashamed.

“Oh, um cool? Uh I’m actually gonna skip detention and uh leave, so don’t erm uh tattle.” “Bye.” He mumbled opening the window and hopping out.

Oh. Wow what a great first impression, but he asked for my number, so that had to mean something.

PRESENT

We had reached the main part of the party and were pretty drunk but sober enough to think clearly. As we were dancing through the sweaty bodies, I took in the people around me, my eyes landing on a familiar face, Gris. Our eyes meet and he gazed me up and down with his dark and hungry eyes, his bright blue orbs landing on my lips, his tongue flicking out and licking his plump lips. My gaze fell on his hands, wrapped around two blond girls hips, their bodies pressed against his tone and built body. I quickly looked away glancing back to Mia, she looked at me with concerned eyes, silently asking me if I was okay. I silently said no and she grabbed my hand leading me outside where the party was less crowded. “Bae what happened? Are you okay?” Mia asked quietly.

“No, uh i just want to go home.” I sniffled softly, “Uh i’ll just call a ride home. Cya tomorrow though!”

I grabbed my phone out of my purse, dialing my friend Avani, my eyes blurry as i stumbled onto the side of the road, plopping my butt onto the cold hard cement. I heard the ringing in the phone and waited for avani’s voice. Instead I heard a deep, smooth, and gravely voice, emitting from my phone,” Y/n? Why are you calling? Are you okay? Where are you?”

Turns out I was drunker than I thought. “Um Im at XXXXX party, i’m just outside sitting on the sidewalk, kinda feel like vomiting my guts out not gonna lie.”

The smooth voice came back, gosh I could listen to that voice forever, maybe instead of a random alarm clock sound i use his voice, my days would always start off the best. “I’m coming to get you Y/n stay put.”

I yawned loudly, rubbing my head, ugh my head hurts so bad. “Hm sure okay.”

I sat there silently for a few moments wondering whose voice that could be, didn’t matter though they sounded hot. While I was sniffing my dress to see if i smelled like sweat and beer, a tall, lean and dark shadow over came my sight and I looked up to see a blurry figure with dark green hair and piercing blue eyes. I heard the figure walk closer and laughed softly as if my state was amusing to him. I blinked a few times, rubbing my eyes. I look up again and oh.my.god. It’s Gris. The fucking Gris. I’m so screwed, I’m almost basically passed out on his property, oh sorry, PALACE. One moment I was on the cold cement and next he was carrying me bridal style back into his house, into the elevator, up to his floor, and carried me all the way to his room and lied me gently on the bed. Taking off my converse and my socks. I heard him say through my drowsiness, “Hey, I’m going to grab some water and tylenol, don’t move too much okay?” That was ultimately the last thing i heard before i fell dead asleep.

THE NEXT MORNING

I tossed around on the bed. Woah, this bed feels like millions of fluffy little clouds. I raised my arms and stretched letting out a soft grunt. I rubbed my eyes and blinked them open, ugh my eyes are so blurry. I shifted around the bed, accidentally hitting my arm against something hard. I slowly sat up immediately regretting it. My head was pounding like a million hammers, I let out a loud sigh, wondering how I was going to the school event tonight. Very slowly I tried to find my nightstand to grab my phone but instead i fell off my bed. “Ouch what was that? Where’s my nightstand?” I said in pain after falling off the bed.

“Ow Ow Ow Ow Ow” a deep smooth voice said under me.

What the fuck. Oh my gosh, I immediately looked down, seeing Gris under me, his dark green fluffy hair sprawled all over his make-shift bed on his floor, then all of a sudden the memories from last night came flooding back. His arms around other girls, me sitting on the cold pavement alone, and him carrying me bridal style to his room before i passed out. “Um hey? Good morning.” His deep gravely morning voice came out under me. Oh my gosh how long was I spacing out for?

“Oh OH I’m so sorry I’m so sorry omg let me get off of you, gosh this is so embarrassing.” I quickly stumbled off of him but my migraine sent me back to the ground a second later.

“Oh god are you okay? Did you drink that much yesterday at my party? Here take some water!” He quickly blurted out, suddenly sitting up causing me to fall forward and collide onto his (hard) chest. “Oh! Uh some water would be nice.”

I said quickly but my voice had died down because I was straddling Gris’ lap, and we were staring at each other right in the eyes. I stared into his beautiful blue orbs, then i found my eyes falling down and gazing at his plump and pink lips. His tongue came out and swiped it against his bottom lip, and his Adams apple prominently sticking out. God he was so hot. I gazed my eyes back up to his eyes seeing him stare at my lips. His hands came up to me, one hand cradling my jaw and the other pushing my midnight black locks out of the way before muttering softly, “Can I please kiss you?” I quietly blurted back, “Please yes.”

His lips found mine, first a soft graze against my lips but quickly turning more heated was his fingers trailed against my jaw and my arms wrapping around his neck. How could his lips be so soft and smooth? He deepened the kiss, pulling me closer to his chest as he fell back onto the floor, me on top as we kept kissing. “I know this isn’t the right time but, I really like you, on the day when we both had detention, you were so calm and pretty that if I stayed another second with you I would confess all my feelings right there but I didn’t want to freak you out.” He said as he rambled on fidgeting with his fingers.

“Oh my gosh, I really like you too, you always seemed out of my league but ai can’t believe you’re here now.” I whispered out softly, grinning the biggest grin ever.

He replied, “So what do you say, will you go out with me?”

“Yes yes yes! I love you so much.” I exclaimed.

“I love you more.” He said.

And they lived happily ever after 😘🤭

#troll #lovers #friends to lovers #satire #writing humor #this is a joke #ahaha fuck #im so funny #kiss kiss #cheesy

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