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clarks-letterman · 2 years

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desirable | doctor!peter parker x gn!reader

a/n — the pictures are so mismatched but i don't have a gif and they all work separately for the fic so yeah- mishmosh pishposh motherf*ckers <3 (this is a jokey but veryyy smutty fic i wrote to get out of writers block)

summary — Infatuated by the doctor treating you, you return with feigned sickness.

words — 2.9k

warnings — SMUT! 18+, throat-fucking, blowjobs, sexy peter parker

~~~

The office was stuffy, or maybe it was your throat swelling, with a scratch that only stuck out when you tried to speak. You scheduled an appointment within an older practice run by renowned Doctor Bruce Banner, who you had little confidence in since he could hardly understand things about his own body. Not that you would discredit someone of his intelligence, but he struggled to control his body at levels of extreme emotion, and dealing with any sickness is never something calm to bear through. He prevailed on your previous visits; that was the only reason you remained slumped against the wall of the waiting room chairs, fighting congestion and an endlessly parched thirst.

After a little while, a nurse in lime green scrubs called your name, prompting you to stand, and followed her into one of the few patient rooms once she checked your height, weight, blood pressure, and temperature. On your first visit, you were surprised to learn about the scarcity of rooms, only to realize that their sizes were far more massive than what would be required for a human-sized head specialist. The bed you sat on, paper crinkling on even the most trivial shift of your body, took up only a fraction of the room it occupied. The other side of the room had a desk and a chair that faced the wall, both oversized to fit Banner's frame but made the computer, keyboard, and mouse sitting atop it look like little playthings. To the left of the bed were a sink, a few hanging otoscopes to check your ears, and some other things you didn't recognize. To your right was the door the nurse walked out of, and no less than five minutes passed before a doctor with a deeper shade of green scrubs entered.

It was a pleasant surprise to learn that your doctor would not be the Hulk himself but a younger male in hulk-green scrubs who had only recently started working for Doctor Banner. Banner was nice but not always careful, especially with his large, discolored fingers. You were happy that he wouldn't be the one to lay a hand on your throat since he could probably crush your larynx with the jerk of a sneeze. Your new doctor didn't seem as friendly as the big guy, though, seized in a look of shock—possibly embarrassment—as he laid eyes on you, then fumbled with his clipboard. It almost fell to the ground but miraculously clung to the tips of his fingers, and he caught the board. He kept his head low and buried, busying himself with your information, hushedly repeating it aloud.

The doctor's face was pale aside from the flush of ignominy, possibly from the same bug you contracted somewhere around New York, though you figured he happened to not get enough sun. Judging by how he carried himself and the awkward chipperness in his voice, you suspected the latter. Yet he filled out his scrubs rather nicely, tautly stretching over his chest and struggling to hide his bulk for someone potentially sun-appalled. It was like he chose a size down from his typical day apparel to tempt his patients, to keep them engaged with whatever boring medical jargon he was most likely to spew out after giving them a diagnosis. You had to admit, it worked.

His short, chocolate curls looked like they had been on the receiving end of many pushbacks with a shaky hand as if he was excessively nervous. He had a simple complexion, easy on the eyes with warm brown hues that challenged the depth of rich soil. His nametag coruscated in the light; black, blocky lettering printed across the laminate—Dr.Parker.

Silence loomed over the room, only backing away when you let out a few sputtered hacks from the back of your throat. A simple coughing fit to others, but it felt like a raging war broke out for the millionth time today on your sore inner muscles. That's when he looked up.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself. Doctor Parker, and you must be . . ." he hesitated momentarily, scanning the clipboard again—was he that forgetful? His index finger followed the pages of your file before halting, and he spoke your name without his eyes leaving the inky letters. The way it rolled off his tongue felt different than how other people said it, like the set of his mouth was meant to twist and twitch with every syllable. "And a sore throat today, huh? That's gotta hurt."

"Kind of," you said, being courteous about how it hurt to swallow and that it felt like someone was constantly ramming something stiff and sharp down your throat each time you tried to eat the softest foods on the shelf. Doctor Parker moved over to the chair, taking a seat in it. You watched how the backing of the chair reached halfway up to the back of his head when he finally got comfortable in the seat, looking more like an excessively sized dog bed, significantly passing his spread legs. He took ahold of the mouse that filled out his hand—appearing to be more than a handful—and clicked open a few programs until he entered an alterable document. It was complete with information about your previous visits.

"What symptoms have you been dealing with?" he asked, hands resting on the keys underneath the monitor, his beautiful face illuminated by the blank, white screen. You told him about the troubles this illness brought but kept it brief to save your throat the pain later. After you relayed everything to him, his intent ears never missing a slurred or misspoken word, he moved on to diagnosing you.

He got out of the comically-sized chair and drew near. Cold hands met your warmed, overheated skin. "Definitely swollen," he muttered. Only a few words slipped from his mouth since he entered the room, and you hadn't even learned his first name, yet you happily listened and waited for more of his spoken thoughts. If your throat was back to normal, how he held it would have been much more evocative. Was he aware of the effect he had on his patients?

At first, his hands were gentle, like a deer carefully watching its step on an uneven meadow, but they had a growing bite as he started to press into your swollen lymph nodes. The force elicited a painful noise past your lips and a harsh "Ow."

His hands backed away immediately, retreating safely to his sides, and that's when he looked up to your face. You were sure it flushed at his worried glance and not from the sickness.

"Sorry, it's my first day on the job," he half-heartedly apologized.

"Really?" you asked skeptically. Maybe that was why you never saw Doctor Parker before now; he was new.

"No."

"Nervous?" your throat rasped.

His cracked lips stretched, hiding any anxiety he took out on them and forming a brief smile, "Yeah, uh, something like that."

The doctor refrained from putting his hands on you for the rest of the visit, asking you how the infection made you feel and what you noticed during the past few days of dealing with it. He concluded it to be tonsilitis and prescribed a healthy dose of antibiotics that would hopefully kill the infection thriving in your throat. They did their job and had you feeling better within a few days.

From the view of your bathroom mirror, opaque-white lights cast visibility over your throat. The pain was gone, but the handsome doctor's touch never left, his pale hands turning a true translucent as you felt the ghost of them linger. You needed to go back for the resolution, but finding a reason to return would be difficult.

. . .

"Back again so soon? Guess you missed me," Doctor Parker remarked as he came through the door, realizing that you sat on the table in the same position as last time. "Still sick?"

You nodded, rebuffing words out of fear that the first one to slip out would sound unscratched by your throat, harmonious and smooth.

"Did it get worse?" You nodded again. "Okay, huh, open up for me? Sorry, please." The doctor heard how it sounded out loud and took the opportunity to make banter with himself where you couldn't. His hand rose and followed your jaw, his thumb glossing over your chin as the rest nearly missed his touch from the last time. With your mouth open, the tip of his flashlight clicked, and out came the light pouring into the darkness. "You sure the medication didn't work? Still feels scratchy?"

You nodded—again. His hands slid down, two fingers on either side of your throat, feeling around for swelling and unwanted masses. Unfortunately, his touch didn't last long, as he pulled away with a look of certainty.

"I've seen enough. I'll call in for a prescription of antibiotics to kill that lie you're committed to."

Your voice slipped, mistakenly asking in a less husky tone, "What do you mean?"

He pushed the chair away from the desk, the tip of his toe sweeping the ground to swivel him around. "I don't want to catch a case of lying, but I don't think I could because you're not sick."

You let your voice return to normal, no longer feigning malady, "How could you tell?"

He stood, leaning against the tall desk. He folded his arms over his scrubs and scrunched the forest green cotton and rayon, "Your throat's gone down, and, obviously, I prescribed the right thing. Top of my class and all. Why did you do it?"

You trapped yourself in here, and there was nothing else to say but the truth, "I . . . think you're hot?"

"Wow, that's a new one—and a relief. Usually, the patients I see more than once have made-up names and appendages I can't even describe—you'd have to be there! And they always try to . . .kill me."

"What?"

"Hey, don't spin this around on me. I'm the one asking questions, here," he mirrored, uncomfortably shifting away from the desk. "How could you make it up to me?"

The question lingered like the newly raised hand to his chin to signify the thoughts running through his head. Your head started to conjure ideas of what exactly he would do. Doctor Parker didn't seem mad when he learned about the reason behind this contrived visit, but maybe it was how he handled things. He kept calm and probably already called security or would ask you to leave, from what you could assume.

After a few moments of deliberation, he dropped his arms by his sides, "I think the best thing to do, is to give you a taste of your own medicine, yeah?"

With his elbows bent, his hands dug up the hem of his shirt and to the waistband stretching over his flat stomach. The hulk-green elastic slid up to the thenars of his hands with nowhere to go but down, thanks to the pressure he applied, the band easily giving way to reveal his partly defined Adonis belt. It was prominent, but the lines looked as if they were lightly sketched on what was otherwise a perfect sculpture.

"What are you doing?" you had to ask as if it wasn't obvious. His thumbs showed through the outline of his pants and a thicker, more pronounced, and lengthier silhouette just further down. You knew what he wanted; he only had to say it.

"Doing what you want, playing doctor and patient. Today's checkup involves a laryngoscopy—throat examination, if that was too confusing," he spoke as if he was in control but still had the consideration that his soft-leaning look won you over with on your first visit. This time, you saw his hardened and more defined side as he finally let his pants drop to his knees. No underwear. He was confident in a way where other people wouldn't know unless they were close to him.

His cock stood tall, and his balls hung low with enough to push the limits of whatever it entered and was sure to create enough of a smack with each passionate hip-rock. Lengthy enough to reach all the right places, but not enough to go where it didn't belong. A couple of tugs with his right hand later proved the second half of that untrue as he grew even more excited.

"You're gonna have to lay back," he waded near you, half-pulled-down pants restricting his steps so far. With a single hand, he maneuvered you with impossible strength, only ceasing his hold when you were on your back, head titled over the foot of the examination bed. The table paper's end crinkled in your ears.

The fluorescent tubes casting light from above were shadowed by his figure stepping into the frame of your flipped world view. His smooth and defined thighs blocked your peripherals. In only seconds, the dry head of his cock was at your gated lips. He hastily spoke, teasing, "Say, ahh. I'll make it nice and sore, just like you need."

Your lips brushed it as they parted, "Aren't you supposed to make me feel better?"

"This is for me since you wasted my time. Don't worry, it'll only hurt a little," he left you with that, suddenly entering your mouth, lips conforming to the girth.

Your tongue felt the topside of his cock; the small ridge where the wide tip ended, and the length and all of its scattered veins began. It was tasteless, bland, and made even more uninteresting since the doctor took his sweet time. The only thing that saved it and provided excitement were the soft noises he made. He had been talkative up until now, but you still knew how he felt. His moans were enough to discern it. He spewed out hushed 'ohs' and pants, which seemed odd as he was less than halfway in your mouth. That was enough to tell he enjoyed it so far, but you wondered about the distance that far away could be. When he didn't have to guide himself into you anymore, the hand holding his hefty length moved to grip the table—tightly. You could have sworn you heard the metal creaking with the pressure.

His cock snaked forward, earning a sharp gluck once he reached your throat. Then, you convulsed, body shaking at the unnatural mass invading your mouth, lips sputtering around him. He sneered in delight, his own set of lips breaking the set of his face to form a smile. His slow pace stopped when a light tracing of hair grazed your chin, balls low enough to brush your nose. Your throat jutted, his head showing from the outside as a small peak in the middle, made more apparent by how your head was titled back.

Slowly, it began to sink and rise as he started to rock his hips. He started to pick up a pace, burying himself until there was nothing left to hide and reeling it back moments later to rest just short of your lips. Every now and then, he would make you swallow his cock for longer than a few seconds, causing welled-up spit to pour from your mouth and onto him and your face. At a certain point, he broke his rhythm, withdrawing all of himself from your wet encasement. Slicked in spit, his gorgeous length glistened in the fluorescent white.

"Feel good?" You could hardly stutter it out, jaw aching at the corners.

"Yeah, it feels great. Nothing wrong with it so far, but I'd like to consider a re-evaluation."

Familiarity washed over you, the same feeling as moments before returning with more wants. More needs. To your surprise, the hand on the examination table keeping his thrusts steady now rested around your throat. The doctor yearned to feel himself piercing you, putting his breath-taking looks into a literal sense. And he did; your throat unwillingly bulged with his deeply buried cock. An unregulated series of appearing and disappearing beneath his palm and wet noises coming from your spit-filled cavern.

After a few more globs of spit well up and spill from your mouth—making all the noises that were expected along with it—the doctor needily stated that he was "going to come." No less than a second later, warm white poured down your throat with no other option except to be swallowed.

The doctor pulled away, a mixture of release and slobber slicking his cock. He waded to the sink, reaching for a few paper towels from the dispenser to wipe himself off.

You sat up, wiping a hand over your mouth and nose to clear off some of his sticky come and your spit, "What about me?"

"What about you?" He laughed at the end of his return. Once he had fixed himself up to act as if the past twenty minutes had never happened, he went to the computer and took a seat on the oversized chair, like last time.

As he tapped away at the keyboard, he informed you about the changes to your medical file, "I'll put myself as your Primary Care Physician from now on, but Doctor Banner might want to see you soon. I think he'll have a new stress reliever."

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slasherslay · 1 year

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Peter had been acting strangely all day, you could tell, of course, you were his best "Friend", he kept avoiding you, later in the day, after school, you met him at his house, you rushed him into his bedroom and took off the sunglasses and mask that was hiding his face, tilting his head up by his chin to get a better look at his face, examining his face you see he has a black eye and a busted lip, gripping the sheet on his bed attempting to stay calm, you softly run your thumb over the cut on his lip, you ask him, "Peter, Who Did This To You?" He hesitates, he knows that if he doesn't tell you, you'll keep pestering him about it, and if he does tell you, you'll beat someone's ass and most likely get yourself expelled over him. "Peter," you say in a demanding tone, "Who did it?" he hesitates but finally tells you, "It-, It was Flash"

#spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #Spiderman x female reader #spiderman x male reader #Spiderman x gender neutral reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #peterparker x reader

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yanderestarangel · 9 months

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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tw: Nsfw, explicit smut, my writing.

This man is sexually insane, seriously, he will fuck you practically every day he can, not many opportunities because of his responsibility as leader of the spider society, but whenever he can he will fuck you without thinking twice.

Miguel is a very needy man even if he hates to show it to you or anyone, he is extremely needy and jealous, seriously, Miguel will fuck you a lot when he's jealous and will be extremely aggressive.

Miguel is also a donor, he loves sucking and praising your pussy with his tongue, if he could he would stay 24h between your legs while sucking and sucking the soft flesh of your pussy, teasing with his lips, tongues and even biting the part inner thighs with his fangs, he loves and will leave you marked, for all to see that you are his and no one else's.

♡He's a fucking walking kink, he likes to try a little bit of everything, some of them being:

Aggressive sex - his favorite when he comes home stressed from his Spider-Man job or when he needs to punish you for pissing him off, teasing or making him jealous, even if it's not your fault, your poor holes won't escape his rage.

Passionate, slow sex - when he feels needy and just wants to slide his thick, needy shaft inside you and move his hips slowly while whispering sweet nothings in Spanish, his native language, while pounding into you at a slow, steady pace. Provocative, Miguel is a very difficult man to talk his feelings about, but fucking him slowly and passionately makes the spider leader loosen up with you.

Recorded sex - Miguel loves to record you having sex, he always has all the recordings he can make of your lusty reactions while you two make love, he feels a strange warmth and relaxation watching your beautiful reactions on video, while working in the spider society, even using their sweet moans to soothe herself as their worked.

"-Look at the camera mi carinõ, I need to get your best angle, smile for the camera while I fuck you" - Miguel spoke authoritatively while positioning the cell phone camera in your pussy, moving the cock in and out, while getting his best angle .

Daddykink - Believe me, Miguel loves being called "Daddy" it's a title of power for him, it's a title that reminds him that he commands you and you are his little submissive in bed and in your couple life, he loves to make you moan in bed and scream calling him "Daddy", "Papi" and "Papito".

Unprotected sex - Spiderman 2099 is a sex freak without a condom, Miguel has enough money and opportunities to buy a suitcase full of condoms for you to use but, he doesn't want to, he'll fuck you skin to skin, for you to feel every thick vein pulsing on the sides of his cock as he thrust the head of his cock into your womb easily, rhythmic strokes and leaving a wet trail between both groins.

He's a great partner, loving when he gets to be, but he has a problem, O'Hara is a jealous and possessive madman.

If he sees you flirting with someone else, whether male or female, especially if it's another Spider-Man, you will suffer the consequences, they will be the lightest: he has a little fight with you in his office, saying he doesn't like it of your closeness with another Spider-Man, or ignoring you for the rest of the day and pretending you two aren't a couple or worst/best of all, fucking you with all the rage and strength he has at the moment, degrading you like a slut .

"-You're just a hole for Daddy to use." Miguel growled, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and anger. "This is your purpose - to please and obey me. Remember that, (Y/N), while Daddy fucks your mouth without mercy."

"-You can feel my cock slipping out of your mouth, but this is far from over"

"-I will not release you (Y/N), not until you submit fully to me, until you understand the consequences of testing my patience."

"-That's it, you slut," Miguel growled, his voice thick with the Mexican accent present, as he pulled your hair back and thrust harder and harder without mercy into your pussy.

"-Take every inch of my dick. Show me you're mine, completely and utterly mine, you're just a dick-hungry little whore, aren't you?" -Miguel spoke in a hoarse tone, letting out loud moans that echoed through the walls of the room, while he threw you on the bed and thrust his length into your pussy again with a painful and pleasurable thrust.

"-That's what you were made for, to adore my cock, to satisfy my every desire, you're a whore to Daddy, aren't you?" -Miguel chuckled sadistically as he lifted one of your thighs, rubbing the throbbing cock on your aching clit, thrusting the tip of the cock in and out again to tease you, then ramming it all into your overstimulated hole; "-Take it all, choke your tight pussy on my cock, show me how much you need me, how much you want my dominance (Y/N)."

"-Tu condemned coño es mío."- Miguel continued to speak as he pounded his cock into her soft and tight folds, while you could feel Miguel's balls hitting your clitoris painfully.

"-Go and follow it and make sure you never forget who you belong to."

"-Daddy's going to make you come so hard, my sweet (Y/N)."

"-You're mine to pleasure and possess me in to the pleasure, my little slut, cum on my dick, cum on your Papi's dick."

©𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

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hoshigray · 11 months

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Had the most random thought, but what if you caught Miguel by surprise and sneaked a kiss on the back of his neck when he's stressed out?

An: Don't mind me, just feeling soft for Miguel because he's corrupting my brain at the moment, lol. Also, wanted to write this to distract me from the fact Pleasurable Practice got smacked with a community label ffs. But, tysm for the love on that fic <33, and [MAYBE] I'll work on pt ii for next week! Thanks again, you lovelies, and enjoy!!

Edited Note: Also, here's an ATSV masterlist I made earlier for your convenience!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - stressed Miguel bc when is he not - you give him a kiss on the neck - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love) - just you and Miguel being adorbs and him being whipped hehe~

Wc: 902

"Aaaaaarrgh!!!"

You snap away from what you were doing to find where the noise came from. Not to your surprise, it's from your boyfriend — Miguel O'Hara, who's expressing his dismay by throwing another tray full of empty containers you got from the cafeteria.

The man is descending from his [godforsaken slow-ass] station, tapping his feet and huffing by the second. His brows are furrowed in anger, and he moves a hand to soothe his forehead with his fingers. When his post finally stops, he jumps down to sit on a chair and groans into his hands.

That was the third time this week. A villain was supposed to be captured and brought into the Spider Society to be sent back to their own universe; however, that was two days ago. And for some reason, this evil-doer has been hopping in and out of multiple universes. It's been a hassle for the other Spiders to grab hold of them; Lyla has to have eyes on them within every minute of every hour, and Miguel...Obviously, he would like to have this matter taken care of already.

You get up from where you're sitting and walk up behind Miguel, whose face is still covered by his hands with inaudible curses that you can tell are in Spanish. "You okay?"

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders entail a huge sigh seething out of his system. "No, mi amor." He frees his face only to rest his forehead with a hand propped by his leg. "This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on longer than necessary, got Spiders who're tired of the chase — I'm tired, yet there's more stuff piling up and—" He stops himself with another deep sigh, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "I just can't right now...."

All you can do is hum aimlessly while massaging his shoulders, his trapezius and deltoids tense with stress. You understand that a lot is going on for Miguel, giving him his space and letting him do what he does best: being a hero. But of course, being a superhero isn't all sunshine and rainbows, and you're bound to get hit with obstacles that'll hinder your progress. Annoyingly so, if you're a leader of an organization like your boyfriend.

Nevertheless, he's only one man, and you know he forgets this fact when he's too wrapped up in work. He's dedicated to protecting his peers, his home, and you. And although you appreciate the sentiment sincerely, you wish he'd remember to not go too hard on himself before he's burnt out.

You sigh through your nostrils, your hands kneading out any remnants of tension while Miguel indulges before storming back to work. That's when an idea hits you when your eyes land on the back ends of his hair, a smile creeping in slowly. Your hand brushes the lower tufts of his brown strands, and you lean down to press your soft lips on him after pulling his suit to expose his neck.

Immediately, Miguel goes rigid at the feeling of your lips on him. And his breath hitches when your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer to you as you lay your chin on top of his head (which you realize is a rare opportunity as he's taller than you).

"Mi lindo araña," You chuckle to yourself when you notice hints of red sneaking on the lobes of his ears. "The more you stress yourself, the more you look like a grouchy face."

"A grouchy face?" His tone holds slight confusion. "You've been hanging with Peter B. too much, amorcito." He shakes his head while you giggle, and you two sink into each other's presence for a little while, taking in the silence outside of the calming breaths Miguel takes. If he were to confess, it's as if almost all his fatigue has vanished into thin air when he's in your embrace. But he doesn't say anything — he doesn't have to. Because you already know.

You set your lips on his temple. "Feeling okay now?" His body vibrates from a tiny purr, and you remove yourself to stand up straight. "Alright then, I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get something to share. Because you clearly need a snack. And while I'm gone, pick up that tray and those empty containers off the floor before Lyla has another reason to call you a 'grumpy man-child.'"

His face molds to a deep scowl from the mention of his pixelated peer's name-calling. "I am not a man-child."

You give him a look. "You kinda are."

"And what gives you that—"

"Muñeco," Miguel quickly refrains from arguing when you call him by his nickname, the name only you can use. "If you're not a man-child, why haven't you stood up and done what I asked yet?"

The man opens his mouth, yet no words dare leave. Reddish-brown eyes are honed in on your figure as you survey his reaction, and he exhales in defeat when he stands up from his chair. Your smile flourishes. "I'll be back," is what you say as you turn to exit his domain and head to the cafeteria.

Miguel watches you leave until you're out of his line of sight, unable to fight the twinge of his lips while he moves to pick up his mess like you instructed him to.

"Sólo tú puedes darme órdenes, mi alma."

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spdrvyn · 10 months

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touch-starved headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel isn't the most touchy person when you and him first meet but as your relationship with him developed over time and things started to get more intimate, you discovered new things about his love language.

THIS POST CONTAINS: like my last one. literally nothing but fluff. sleep-deprived and stressed out miguel.

NOTES: do you guys think miguel needs a hug because i think miguel needs a hug, reblog and like if you think that miguel needs a hug because i think that he needs a hu

– through the most painful methods (to his heart), miguel had found out that you really liked touching people. every time you greeted him, it was a big hug that he would hesitate to return. it's not that he didn't enjoy it, it was just that it wasn't something he was used to. it's not like people in the spider society were walking around giving hugs.

– although, it's not like he was opposed to it. it was you, after all. gradually, he began getting more comfortable. resorting to wrapping an arm around you and dragging his hand up and down your back, it would make the hug last just a little longer and he enjoyed the soft gestures. they meant a lot more to him than you thought.

– it took a little time to get him to fully hug you back. the reason for that was how he looked when doing so. he doesn't like being so public about it, he can hear the murmurs and light giggles from the passersby around him when you hug him. besides, the face that he makes is one that he finds quite embarrassing. he looked so content, compared to the stone-faced and distant demeanor he always walked around with at work.

"Miguel!"

He felt his body stiffen as you called out his name, head turning frenetically as to locate where exactly you were calling him from. Not until he feels a finger tap him on the shoulder, he turned around and looked down to see you with a grin tugging at your lips.

He isn't even able to get a single word out as you embrace him, head buried into his chest and arms wrapped tightly around his torso. You're about to pull away before you feel two strong arms envelop you as well.

Your heart fluttered a little. Ever since the start of your friendship with him, you'd gotten used to him not reciprocating the hugs. You couldn't blame him honestly, some people aren't into it but it also perplexed you because it's not like he hated it? Otherwise, you wouldn't have continued.

After a few long moments, he finally pulls back and whatever just happened left a look of awe on your face that he reacted so adorably to. His eyebrows furrowed, lips pursing into a straight line, the crimson eyes that you would lose yourself in averting from yours as a shade of deep red settles on his cheeks.

"So, what are you here for? How'd you even get in?" You wanted to laugh at the strain in his voice, but just this once, you decided to spare him the embarrassment.

Quickly digging into your bag, you bring out a small container. "Admittedly, some of your coworkers were a little... surprised when they saw me head up but I told them that I was your friend and they were slightly less mortified!"

You handed the tupperware over to him as he carefully took it in his hands. "I just wanted to bring you a snack. Haven't seen you in a while so I assumed that things were getting busier around here."

Miguel pried open the container as the scent of freshly baked banana bread wafted through the walls of his office. For a moment, you were concerned that he didn't like it. He stared blankly at the food for a moment before closing it once more to conceal the scent.

"Thank you, that's- that's very thoughtful of you..."

Your head cocked to the side ever so slightly to get a better look at his face, watching lovingly as the blush that painted his cheeks continued to deepen.

Oh, how embarrassed he would be if he knew you could hear his heartbeat during that hug a while ago.

– you weren't all that surprised when the affection picked up ten-fold when you two started dating. whatever sense of yearning and longing for a loving relationship that miguel had was definitely all pouring out now but it's not like you were complaining. if anything, he seemed to be more physically affectionate than you at times. he'd work towards trying to be gentle towards you at the start of your relationship, he was scared that he'd hurt you but once you reassured him that he didn't need to walk on eggshells, he didn't hold back.

– greetings went from hugs to straight up kisses, when you got back home from work and he happened to stop by your shared apartment just to fetch something, he would always pull you into a kiss which would always leave you breatheless by the end of it. whenever you two were watching a movie, he'd constantly have his hands all over you. he liked playing with your body, his fingers would rake through your hair and gentle massage your scalp, his hands would wander down to your stomach to trace shapes into it, then to your thighs to knead into the soft flesh like a cat making biscuits.

– let's not leave out how much he bites as well. he has a tendency for marking you up, sometimes you'd be cooking something on the stove and he'd sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. when you finished preparing your meal and perhaps wanted to get a change of clothes, you'd see a small bite mark in the crevices in your neck. you were more than okay with it, of course, you just had one rule to not make it uncoverable. a rule that he had forgotten to obey at times because "you just taste so good".

"Fuck..."

You groaned as the blaring sounds of your alarm rung painfully in your ears, you reached over to the bedside table and looked at your phone screen (basically getting flashbanged as you forgot you didn't turn down the brightness last night). It was still early in the morning but you still had tasks to care of and a job to do.

You turn off the alarm and sit up from the bed, wincing as you take a big stretch. You're ready to actually stand up and start the day until an arm wraps around your midsection, forcing you back down onto the bed with a yelp.

Your back hits Miguel's chest as he cages you, his face buries itself into the crook of your neck. "Stay, s'early..." You can hear him mumble, hot breath tickling your skin and it sends a tingle up your spine. You giggle, your hand moving down to the ones that he has firmly digging into your belly.

"No matter what I say, you're going to keep me here anyway."

"Mhm. Just surrender."

You mumble out a small "okay" as you properly settle back into his warmth, a small hum escapes his throat as you can feel his nose digging into his neck and lips pressing the back of your shoulder.

Time seems to pass by slowly, surprisingly enough you're used to this. You barely get to see Miguel some days due to the nature of his job however the moment that you're together again, it all feels so heavenly.

Your train of thought is interrupted when you feel a shift of movement, Miguel maneuvers your body so that you're now facing him.

Only now do you get to see how cute he looks. His regularly slicked backed hair all messy, stray hair strands falling onto his forehead. Lips curled into a small pout and eyes lidded as it seems like he's staring into your soul or something.

"Corazón," He breathes out, your fingers move to cup his cheek. Your thumb swipes at the deep bags that formed under his eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

You let your actions speak for you as you leaned in closer, pressing your lips against his. One of the hands that he wrapped around your waist moves to your hair like always, fingers combing out the locks as the kiss continues to deepen.

Once you two finally part, a small grin makes itself present on your face and on his as well.

You realized now that whatever jobs you had, whatever lives you two lived didn't matter as long as both of you were happy. A thought intensified as he pulled you in for another kiss.

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #reader insert #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #romance #cute #domestic

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intoxicated-chan · 11 months

Text

Between Your Thighs

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel loves you with his entire heart and you love taking care of Miguel.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “505” by Arctic Monkeys. Can’t stop, won’t stop writing for Miguel, I just can’t. REQUESTS ARE FINALLY OPEN!!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 890

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, mentions/description of intercourse, sexual content, receiving (male), pet names (Mi amor), swearing, dacryphilia, deep throating…

If there was one thing about Miguel that everyone knew, it would be that he was never vulnerable around anyone. Especially to those who he just met, but there was something off with you. Your kind nature towards him made him want to tear his walls down almost immediately. Even if it was going to end up as a single night, nothing more.

But he loved the way your hands trailed down his chest, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you gave every ounce of your love towards him, to a man you barely knew. It wasn’t until he popped the question while in bed that he knew he chose the right one.

And when Miguel isn’t working all day and night, he’s the embodiment of a house husband. He knows how difficult he is at times and he’s happy that you’re so patient.

He especially loves those nights where you let him relax under your touch.

Miguel’s back hit the bed, his head hitting the soft material. His lower half of his body hangs off the edge of the bed.

You watch him carefully, your hand wraps around his hard length, applying pressure from the base to his tip where your thumb pressed against lightly. Teasing and massaging his tip.

Before you could take him into your mouth, you hear him let out a groan, and his hands immediately dig into the bed sheets.

Few pumps with your hand and he moans louder when he feels your warm mouth. You bob your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his length. There were even times where you pulled away to place kisses on his thighs.

You pay attention to Miguel’s moans, hollowing your cheeks which makes him thrusts his hips.

“Amor!” Miguel hisses.

You look up to find his head thrown back, his breathing ragged and quick, you could guess that his eyes are squeezed shut.

Suddenly, you felt a hand come and grasp the back on your head, forcing you to take him deeper. He seems to forget the fact of his claws, how careful he was whenever the two of you did something like this.

But you always reassured him that you placed your trust in him.

“Please!” He begged, lifting his head and his eyes meeting yours, “Please.” He repeated, eyes watering.

The sight of him made you smile around his length. You closed your eyes, letting him control your movements and allow him to fuck your face.

Miguel lets out heavy moans as he thrusts his hips faster. You didn’t know when he sat up and both hands were holding your head.

But you enjoyed the sight of his eyes squinting, his face flushed a bright red, and he looked so beautiful in the moment that you forgot that you were gagging around his cock.

But your eyes began to water as well. As much as you tried to control it, you couldn’t stop it from falling.

Luckily he didn’t catch on or else he’d stop.

He continued until he came into your mouth. He pushed you down all the way to his base.

As you swallowed, you rose to your feet and watched Miguel catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” You ask.

His head hands low, “I should be asking you the same question.” He pants, looking up and I see his watery eyes, “I’m so-”

“I’m alright, Miguel. You didn’t hurt me.”

Then it hits him, “I could’ve-”

“But you didn’t. That proves how much control you have over them.”

Miguel lays back, “…That was amazing though.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He opens his arms and you lay in them, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Placing a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep in his arms.

Your eyes flutter open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose immediately. And at the foot of the bed, Miguel is hunched over.

“Morning.”

He smiles, leaning over to hand you a mug, “Morning.”

“You’re up early.”

“Yeah, I’ve suddenly got another project. Which means-”

“Another all-nighter.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head as you sip your coffee, “It’s not your fault.”

Miguel comes over to you, hugging you tightly, “I’ll make it up to you.”

You smile, “You don’t gotta, being with you is enough for me.”

You watch him get up from the bed and leave the bedroom. It wasn’t like he was leaving for work, he preferred to work at home so he had his own office. So, it was easier to check up on him.

Once you finished your coffee, you got ready for the day, showered, dressed in comfortable clothes and started fixing the bed first. Next came laundry, and the housework.

Hours later, you knocked on the door to his office, “Miguel, I brought you your food.” You heard him hum loudly, letting you enter his office.

With a plate in hand, you set it next to his hand, “Thank you, mi amor.”

“How’s the project going on so far?”

“Going great, might be done in a couple of hours.” He hums as he feels your fingers run through his hair, “Come m’ere.”

You set yourself on his lap, both of your hands in his hair, “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” He mumbles, relaxing into your touch.

“How long have you been hard?”

#x reader #fluff #x gender neutral reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spider man #spiderman #spider man x reader #spider man smut #spiderverse x reader

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wonderwomanfantasy · 10 months

Note

okay but imagine a jealous Miguel who's been absolutely obsessed with you but was to scared to say anything. One day he comes over to your house to tell you how he feels about you but he notices you're wearing an old hoodie from your ex(who you obviously don't care about because you've been madly in love with mig) and he just goes feral and rips it off you, he says sm nasty possessive shit while he fucks you in full nelson✋ I'm sorry I've just had brain rot over this man and saw your asks abt him

oh baby I'm obsessed. this is nasty so it's going under the cut ^^

Miguel is 100% the type of guy who will refuse to admit he has feelings for you while everyone else knows. Yeah, he brings you coffee almost every morning, it is not to see you smile he just uh… made extra? He likes it when you rely on him, he likes being your hero even if he’s just buying you pads. He’s touchy too, when he passes behind you he puts his hand on your lower back even if he has plenty of room, or wraps his arm around your waist while the two of you are in a crowded place together so he doesn’t lose you. God speaking of crowded places if the two of you are ever in a loud place trying to talk he’ll lean in close so he can hear you speak and if his proximity makes you flustered, all the better.

Miguel knows deep in his heart that it’s wrong how jealous gets, and realistically if you two were just dating he’d be able to just chill the fuck out but since you aren’t he can’t help but worry that someone else will catch your eye while he’s busy working out how he feels for you and wondering if he’s selfish enough to pull you into his dangerous world like that. The realization that you’re already in too deep makes his stomach churn. Even if you’re not dating you’re easily the person he’s closest to, everyone in the multiverse knows about his weak spot for you… if there's danger you’re already in it, if he really loved you he wouldn’t just keep you at arm's length, he’d cut you out of his life completely.

It’s a surprise when Miguel stops by. You’ve told him a thousand times that your home is open to him anytime but he always at least calls beforehand. Not this time. You can tell right away that something is off, he doesn’t hug you when he comes in and he’s got this weird look on his face like something eating at him but he won’t say what's up.

Miguel really did come over with intentions to tell you that he can’t spend time with you anymore, that it was too risky and too painful… then he sees the goddamn hoodie you’re wearing. And he recognizes it. He knows in that moment that he isn’t going to leave you, he isn’t going to let you go and let some other man have you. You are his, in this universe and in every other.

“Is that your ex’s?” you’re a little tripped up by the suddenness of the question, and before you can answer it he’s looming over you, one of his clawed fingers hooked in the collar of the garment.

“Are you thinking about him again or what?” Miguel demands of you and really he doesn’t even care to hear the answer. “I could treat you better, why don’t you fill your pretty little head with thoughts of only me?” as if at that moment you could think of anything else. Not with his pretty eyes looking at you like that. Not with his big sharp fangs biting and ripping your clothes off of you. All you can think about is him.

You’ve never been scared of Miguel, not the way other people were, but at that moment when you see the hungry look in his eyes all you can think is “god he’s going to eat me alive” and it sends a shiver down your spine.

He carries you like you weigh nothing to him. And honestly, you’ve seen this man bench press a minivan, you probably don’t weigh anything to him. Miguel holds you in front of a mirror and makes you watch as he presses his big dick into you and uses your body like a fleshlight.

“See that? See how good you take me?” he whispers into your ear “You’re mine now, no one else gets to fuck you, no one else gets to hear the sweet noises you make, just me.” he says while bitting your neck

He has your legs over his arms and he really is just bouncing you up and down on his dick, he pushes your head down and makes you watch as he pushes into you for the first time before he pulls your head back to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Wanted to fuck you like this for so long, now that I’ve got you here I don’t think I’m ever going to stop,”

And he doesn’t stop. Not until a mix of his cum and yours is dripping down his thighs and your legs are twitching. When he finally pulls out he scolds you for not keeping his cum inside of you and pushes the mess back into you with his fingers.

He asks if you feel empty without him nine inches deep in you (you do) he asks if any other cock could ever make you feel full again (not likely) he asks if you’ll forgive him for being so rough with you, and if you’ll let him do it again.

#miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #gender neutral reader #miguel x reader smut #miguel o’hara x reader

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creamecafe · 10 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒

Summary: You can't help but make fun of Hobie for the way he says things differently from London.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

Warnings: none just major fluff

a/n: I high-key low-key hate this but had to write something for my little rebellion Hobie

"Wait wait so you call chips crisps?"

"Yes" Hobie sighed, rolling his eyes.

This wasn't the first time you asked about certain words in England than how it works where you live. It was fascinating how Hobie and you called things and lived differently.

"It makes sense that you call chips crisps because their crispy, but why do you call french fries chips? Their not crispy at all. They got soggy because their soft."

"I don't bloody know, I just have been used to calling that my entire life."

"Well I was raised calling them french fries and I'm gonna stick to that."

"Do you even know they were not made in France, they were made in Belgium? The dominant language of southern Belgium is French, and that's where they got the name from."

"What do you say for popsicle in England?" Holding your laughter and excitement

"Ice lolly."

"And to ask that you would like a popsicle?"

"Could I please get a ice lolly?"

You started laughing after he had said that. His accent was so funny to you

"You sound like a young boy in a school uniform from the 1930s."

"And you sound like a real bully making fun of how I say things." Hobie pretends to be upset but can't help but smile because of how cute you look when you laugh.

"But I know I can't be mad at you love." He rises a bit from the couch and kisses you on the cheek.

You turn your head and kissed him more on the lips. Hobie puts his hand up and cups your face. He then guides you down onto the couch lying you down on your back. Now the kiss was getting more heated.

But you guys had to stop to catch your breath. After Hobie pulled away from the kiss, he just smiled at you.

"Would you like to get McDonald's?"

"Yes I would like to get some chips." You smile stupidly thinking you were funny. You were it's just Hobie didn't appreciate it.

"Haha, real funny."

You chuckle at this and just spend the rest of the night eating McDonald's together still making fun of how he says things from back home London.

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fauustic · 11 months

Text

late night bubble bath

((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.

warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3027

A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.

Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.

Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.

You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.

Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again.

Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you."

And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue.

Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.

"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.

Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers.

You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights?

Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.

So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.

Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.

You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.

You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.

It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working.

"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights.

"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms. "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."

A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished.

"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."

"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything."

His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.

You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.

"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.

Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him.

Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.

Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.

"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.

"Let me run you a bath."

This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.

"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted.

"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.

"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.

It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds.

"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"

A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño."

Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.

Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.

This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina."

His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves.

It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.

"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.

Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.

As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"

Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub.

Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive.

"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about.

Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.

Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.

"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.

"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."

#miguel o'hara #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara comfort #miguel o'hara fluff #x gender neutral reader #x fluff #x comfort #comfort #fluff

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lunarfleur · 9 months

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I’ll Be Okay, Mama ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Summary: Rio peeked into her son’s room once the sound of muffled groans hit her ears. There you two were, just like a young Rio and Jefferson. Miles was laying on his stomach while you were perched on his lower back, straddling his body. Rio watched at you worked through all the tension that had built up in his shoulders. You massaged every muscle, every knot. Miles grunted and groaned under you, and if it hadn’t been such a day, he would’ve been giggling at the noises your touch brought.

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @enchanting-violet @nagi3seastorm @milesmolasses @luvjunie @n1cole-ghost @kombuuuu @urfavnegronerd

Warnings:None! Sentimental shit, but nothing bad!

A/N:I’m on something, istg. I just don’t know what it is.

This is x gender neutral reader!

Loving Miles was hardest on the days he didn’t have the energy to be loved.

Any other day, he’d gladly fall victim to the fluttering in his heart and the butterflies in his stomach. He let you hang all over him, intoxicate him with your love and paralyze him with your affections. He’d smother you just the same, kissing across your face whispering words no one else has heard from him.

But not today.

There was so much tension in the way he walked, so much exhaustion in the kisses he gave you, if you could even call them that. His lips would barely ghost over your skin. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

All day, Miles had yet to pull you into his lap. He had yet to kiss you deeply. He had yet to insist on holding your hand. That was abnormal. He always held your hand.

“Miles?”

“Hm?”

It was a dull, quiet, bored tone that answered you. He didn’t even bother to look in your direction. He sat, hunched at his desk while you lounged on his bed. You stared at the back of his head. Maybe it’d let him hear your thoughts.

“What’s happening up there?” You asked.

He knew what you meant. ‘Up there’ was his head. His brain. The mind that was smart and so good. Him.

“Nun.”

Sighing, you got out of his bed. Maybe, with enough coaxing, he’d let himself bask in the comfort of his blankets and the warmth of your touch. Maybe, just maybe, he’d give in to his body’s desire for comfort, for reassurance. Just maybe.

You walked towards him, your hands sliding up his shoulders. You kissed the back of his head, right in between his braids, while you dug the pads of your fingers into the muscle. You could feel how tense he was.

“Baby,” you whispered. “Come on. Give yourself a chance to relax.”

Miles only shrugged you off.

“I’m fine, [Name.]”

You couldn’t help but huff. You were frustrated at how stubborn he way. Sure, you knew he couldn’t help it. It was in his nature. That stubbornness was built in his bones and flowed through his blood. It was the one thing that made him a Morales. He wasn’t supposed to run from things. That included his own problems.

“Stop doing this to yourself,” you pushed forward. You heard him sigh, watching as he bent forward to rub his eyes.

“Baby,” he just about seethed, “it’s a’ight. Just go back to what you was doin before.”

But you didn’t budge. Once he leaned back against his chair, you kissed the back of his neck. It was the one place that could get him to break, to melt, to give in.

“Come on,” you repeated. Miles sighed loudly, but stood up nonetheless.

He took a few steps forward before flopping onto his bed. Head first into his pillow, he slid forward. A meek, quiet grunt escaped his lips and you could see him fighting sleep already.

Just then, you heard the front door open. When Miles didn’t blink, you didn’t either. It didn’t seem important at the time.

But when Rio didn’t hear any noise coming from Miles’s bedroom, she got curious. Normally, you two would be talking or a movie would be playing or music would be coming from a speaker while you guys napped. But it was quiet.

Rio peeked into her son’s room once the sound of muffled groans hit her ears. There you two were, just like a young Rio and Jefferson. Miles was laying on his stomach while you were perched on his lower back, straddling his body. Rio watched at you worked through all the tension that had built up in his shoulders. You massaged every muscle, every knot. Miles grunted and groaned under you, and if it hadn’t been such a day, he would’ve been giggling at the noises your touch brought.

She leaned against the door frame, watching you soothe his pains with your hands while he fell into the grasp of sleep below you. She was sure it hurt, the feeling of all that built-up stress being forced away.

It was at that time she remembered the first day he left for school at Visions. It was a good school, but she still felt that motherly fear of God-knows-what when she kissed him goodbye at the door.

“Please, be safe, Mijo,” she had said, kissing his cheeks.

“I’ll be okay, mama,” Miles had chuckled.

But every week he came home, he seemed less and less okay. His eye bags grew heavier and heavier. Her already quiet son had grown all but mute. His, “School’s been good,” turned into, “it’s a’ight.” But what was she supposed to do?

Then one week, he came home a little happier than normal. Despite the bags and how weak his voice seemed, there was an unusual pep in his step. You.

It made her think back to a young Jefferson. The sweet boy she knew who held the door and gave her flowers. He gave her notes and his jacket when she was cold. It was a sweet, giving kind of love. And in return, she healed him with each kiss and every smile. She massaged his shoulders and back and neck when things just seemed to hurt.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Rio heard you whisper. He grunted in response.

You reminded her so much of who she was when she was young, loving her guy and ridding him of his pain. She was grateful, thankful for the way it didn’t seem to bother you. For a second, she wondered what things would be like if he was still here.

Slowly, Rio stepped away. Whether or not you knew she was there, she didn’t know. But she did know that, for the time being, she could be confident that her son was being loved the way he deserved.

And yeah, he’d be okay.

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #atsv #across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #x gender neutral reader

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deathc-re · 7 months

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i definitely think hobie loves cockwarming. having you sat on him, desperate and pleading for him to move just an inch. there's almost a puddle at his base from your hole, so wet and he'll lazily rub on your clit, so tantalizing slow that you almost let out a sob. you want to move, bounce, rock, anything!

you'll beg and whine and pout but he'll just smile at your lazily. It's killing him too, the way you grip him so tightly, trying to milk him so desperately and oh the sounds you make! he'll pull you close, kiss and suck on your neck to get whimpers and mellows out of you. each time y'all do this, he tries to beat his last time. almost in competition with himself, and you hate it.

once he finally does move though, it's with the force of everything in him. pace mind numbing, his words, his hands on you, pinching and gripping and caressing everything he can. you rock your hips to try and match his pace but to no avail, he whispers in your ear to relax and let him please you. without protest you do as your told and let the pleasure consume your body and mind.

#[moon's mind]#spiderman into the verse #x reader #gender neutral fanfic #oneshot #reader insert #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #spider punk smut #spider punk x reader #afab reader #spiderman oneshot #hobie brain rot

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yourlocalstranger123 · 10 months

Text

||Mermaid Miguel||

Artist: NikSaf (or NikSaf_art) app: Twitter

Note: I'm using a translator for Spanish. You can correct me if you want. [The way I made this fic so random]

When it said: "I can't eat raw fish" (but, for sure, we're gonna eat some raw fish 🤭) [help. I'm being held hostage by my friend unless I type this. Help]

Part 2 —

Honestly. You were just on a small land, but enough resources to live at least. You're the only person who lives there, but some people visit left and right sometimes. You had a very calm and peaceful life until you accidentally....fish out a VERY big....fish?

You dragged him up even though he was a little heavy with both of your arms hooked with his or just. Straight up carrying him princess style. (Or even dragging him by the tail)

You. Were. Stunned.....you fished out a Merman?! Honestly, you thought mermaids were just fairytales, but I guess not since you're seeing one right now! (Damn, but this one is a hot lookin fish— I mean. Merman)

You were panicking. Should you run? Or check if it's alive? Ask him if he's ok? Wait. Can he even speak english? Or can he even speak at all??? While you were in the abyss of your thoughts, the unknown merman just stared at you.

When you finally collected your thoughts, you felt water spashing on you, well. Not that much. It's more like sprinkling since he's just shaking his hair from the water. He suddenly backed away from you, claws open. (Wait....fish has claws?—)

You put both of your hands in the air as a sign of peace. Not wanting to be looked as a threat. He tilted his head and just slowly backed away, slipping back into the water. Welp, that's gonna be the last time you'll ever see such a beauty again.

You laid there, fishing rod in your hand as you wait for a fish to pull on the string. Basking in the sunlight in such comfort that you could fall asleep if it wasn't for a certain stare burning a hole through you...

Miguel frowning as he watched you just sitting there. Not even bothering to look who was staring at you and just letting them. (Him)

He wonders why you're just. There. You don't even bother going back to that place called a city. You just. Stayed. He's been actually stalking watching you for a while. Waiting for the moment for you to leave to make his heart stop racing and ache.

But not for a single moment, you never left. He even tried many tactics to make you leave, like leaving fish blood, dead bodies of ocean animals, or anything! But. You just...shrugged.

He became increasingly interested in you. Even to the point his tail is wagging like a dog waiting for its owner excitedly. He found out you fell asleep as he sneakily went up to you, dragging his body with his arms. Finally, getting a good look on you, he felt memorized.

Before he left, he tried nuzzling his face to yours, feeling the soft flesh against his. Just like how he saw other humans showing physical affection to each other. Feeling satisfied, he left in a swift motion before you woke up.

The next day, you decided to fish again as it's now your hobby since it's been a bit boring ever since you came to the land. You flinched when you felt a hand that felt like it was soaked in water, taking off your hat that was covering your face.

You see the same handsome merman, looking at you in curiosity. Pausing as you don't know what to do. You put your hand out for him since he kept staring at it as if interested. He slowly and softly put his head on your hand. Nuzzling it as his tail seemed to swish left to right in a wagging motion.

You were about to say something until he went back into the water and after a few minutes, he rose up from the water with a fish in his mouth. He went closer to you, reaching for your lap as he dropped the fish in your hands.

"You....want me to eat this?"

He nodded. Oh. Wait. Seems like he knows english-

You just put it back behind your back, "thanks. I will, uhh, eat it later."

He frowned. Making you feel very nervous. So you just tried walking away to get things to maybe make a fireplace so you can at least cook it to make it edible for you. He noticed this and grabbed your wrist, thinking that your leaving him.

He pulled you over to him, hugging you tightly and not letting go. "Uhh...Mermaid man, im trying to-"

"My name is....Miguel. Not Mermaid Man."

You were stunned. He could also speak? You patted his head as he snuggled you closer.

"no me dejes solo...por favor?"

You paused. Thinking what to do. You'll just simply tell him, "I can't eat raw fish, pretty boy."

He paused at the mention to him as pretty boy. He quickly lets you go, looking away so you can't see the blush on his face. You quietly went away, getting some wood for the fireplace.

After you come back, you see him, miguel in the water, waiting for you. You patted your lap as Miguel hesitantly but hurryingly comes over to you. He flinched when you put a wet towel on his neck where his gills were but slowly got comfortable. (I think Mermaids need their gills to not be dry so they can breathe)

He watches you cook the fish and take a bite out of it. You offered one to him as he took a bite out of it. After a few minutes, he tugged your sleeves. Looking at you as if waiting for you to feed him again. Sighing, you broke off a piece and fed it to him.

Maybe living with a Merman isn't so bad after all.

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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

headcanons on miguel’s favorite sex positions? 💃

OOOO boi do i have some things to say about this

headcanon : Miguel's favourite sex positions and why with some quotes of what he would say in each situation for the positions

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, mentions of -breeding kink, size kink, soft sex, rough sex, pnv sex, prostate, bdsm. softdom!miguel, no use of Y/N word count : 1,3k

﹫tag list : @fandom-ash

Missionary : ⟢ description : the receiver partner lays back and the giving partner enters from above

listen, he is a simple man that sometimes likes to stick to the good ol stuff

this, and also because he just loves to watch you and how small you look under him

Miguel for SURE has a size kink, like LOOK at how BIG he is

and the fact that he knows he can cage you underneath him simply with his frame makes his cock twitch

also : this one gives him access to your neck and your breasts/chest, and every single position that does so is a must

bonus point for the kinky missionary where he ties your hands above your head while his roam your entire body

plus he just loves seeing you begging, that powerless look in your eyes as you squirm under him makes his eyes burn dark

“I’m going to make you come until you can’t breathe.”

Table-top / Countertop : ⟢ description : you don’t have to do this specifically on a table. Have the giver enter while the receiver sits or lies at the edge of a table, counter, or bed.

this man is devoted to his work, but he is mostly devoted to you

and sometimes he just can’t resist seeing your thigh thickening as you sit down, it does unspeakable things to him (because he is undoubtedly a thigh man, fight me on this)

gotta make some good use of these desks after all

if he really just can't wait for you two to be back to his quarters, he’d 100% make everyone leave the office so that he can just pin you down on the desk and fuck you senseless

once, you almost got caught because you were moaning a bit too loud, and he just pressed his hand on your mouth

“I love your moans nena, but for now you have to be silent.”

you had tried to control your moans better, biting on the inside of your cheek, your lip, or his

“don’t worry, because later, I’ll make you scream”

another way for him to take you that is similar to the countertop would be :

Face-off / the chairman ⟢ description : the giving partner sits on a chair or on the edge of a bed ; the receiver faces them while seated on their lap (for the chairman, the receiving is facing away)

he likes this one because this way he can see you, hold you close to him and still have access to your entire body

he’d spend so much time marking you, everywhere across your neck, breast and back

also the chairman might start because either you or him proposes some cockwarming during his work

“I need you, right now.”

when in the bedroom though, he will go for something similar but sweeter :

the Om/Rocking Horse ⟢ description : the giving partner sits cross-legged, (yoga/pretzel-style), while the receiver sits on their lap facing them. The receiver can wrap their legs around the giver and hug each other

he just loves the proximity of this one, it’s so intimate

how he can hold you in his arms while you go at your own rhythm. You look so good for him, he’s literally drunk on your every expression and moans

he’ll become a full koala, just wrapping his arms around you and kissing your skin tenderly, his eyes full of pure adoration for you

seeing you so close, he is so proud of you and how good you are for him

it’s in these moments that he wonders what he did to deserve to have such an amazing partner

“do you like the way that feels ? Gosh, you should see how good you look right now.”

Cowgirl ⟢ description : the receiver kneels on top, pushing off the giver’s chest and sliding up and down their thighs. The receiver can relieve some weight from their partner’s pelvis by leaning back and supporting themselves on their thighs

ooo boi many reasons

first of all, after a long day, if you want him, you can still fuck him when he is too tired to properly take care of you (this man will crave your body until his last breath)

second of all, the view he has is amazing

seeing you bounce on his dick, his hands grasping your breasts/chest and your hips while you’re rolling them onto him : pure bliss

third of all, this one allows you to manage your own rhythm and your own pleasure just the way you want it

he does also love some alternatives to it

reverse cowgirl for instance is insanely good, seeing your amazing ass lowering on his dick and grazing his lower belly is heavenly. Bonus point for this one if it’s mirrored sex, because seeing your beautiful face while you’re the one fucking him elevates his soul

“use me as your toy all night long”

Leap frog ⟢ description : this is a modified doggy style position. The receiver gets on their hands and knees, then, keeping hips raised, rests their head and arms on the bed.

remember the soft Miguel I told you about in the Om part ? Let’s set that idea to the side, ‘cause he ain’t soft in this one

damn this position makes him want to breed you so bad, because this has a sort of bestial and intense style to it

he can go deep into you, hitting all the good spots while he toys with your clit and drives you from one climax to the other

he will lock your wrists in your back with just one hand while with the other he grips your hair

he loves the feeling of your ass against him, and will undoubtedly grab it full hand or slap it

he might or might not use this one whenever he feels frustrated and needs to vent the tension

“i’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk”

Scoop me up/spooning ⟢ description : both partner lie on their side, facing the same direction while the giver enters the receiver

Miguel, as we can imagine, is the big spoon, and he loves being it

so combining this with sex ? Oh boi that’s a win

also (same as with cow-girl) this is a great way for him to still make love to you when he is tired after a long day because he doesn’t need to use a lot of energy

bonus point about this one : he loves it because, when you’re all done, there’s nothing much left to do but snuggle up and fall asleep in each other’s embrace

“Coño, you feel amazing.”

Mating press / Seashell ⟢ description : the receiver lies back with their legs raised all the way up, the giver enters from a missionary position

as mentioned earlier, Miguel probably has a good ol’ breeding kink

so of course this position is a necessity

he can be all good and deep inside you while you're under him, he might bite your calf

he feels like he looks so much bigger than you in this, and he’ll never get tired of the vision of your eyes tearing up from how deep he’s fucking you

plus, he can block both your legs and arms, completely dominating you and holding you at his mercy, and that excites him very, very much

“Let’s find out how much you can take.”

this one is kind of a bonus :

the snow angel (maybe an unpopular opinion ? i have no idea tbh bhffrgd) ⟢ description : the receiver should lie on their back and have the giving partner straddle them, facing away. The receiver lifts their legs and wraps them around the giver’s back to elevate their pelvis so the giver can enter.

okay this one mostly applies for one single reason : prostate massage

you both might just rarely use this one, because miguel can’t see you nor mark anything than your legs (which he doesn't appreciate), however the possibility that you can finger his ass while he fucks you is an amazing feeling

the way he can bury himself inside of you while you hit his prostate so deliciously makes him moan uncontrollably

“Don’t stop… It’s so good when you touch me there.”

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pastelclovds · 11 months

Text

I just know Spot uses his powers to watch Reader from afar, but not in a creepy way at all, just in a lovesick puppy crush way. Reader doesn’t mind at all, and when they acknowledge his presence by saying “hello” to him, Spot just squeaks and quickly disappears into one of his spots. I just love dorky shy guys. 🤍🖤

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eyesxxyou · 2 months

Note

sniffs

I SMELL A REQUEST BOX OPEN????

😈😈

loser!hobie & loser!reader just taking eachothers virginity

MUAHAHAHA

🥀

❝ heaven ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader

❝ contents ❞ loser hobie, loser reader, virginity taking, unprotected sex, kinda awkward

There was no telling who was more nervous. Kissing and heavy petting turned into something more. Clothes timidly removed, eyes shifting side to side without ever meeting each other's gaze. Could it be Hobie, who felt electricity with each and every sensually innocent touch he placed upon your exposed flesh?

“How– How should I touch ya?” Hobie’s hand timidly grazed over the length of your body, eye flickering to yours for any semblance of direction but you didn’t know what to do either. “Are you okay wit’ this?” He pressed his body against yours and you let out something of a gentle gasp as you felt his erection press itself to your stomach.

You nodded, words failing you, and positioned yourself to kiss tenderly at his neck as you had seen in the videos. It felt aimless, unsure exactly where you should be kissing and how, your hands fumbling nervously about his nude body. You shook like a wet dog, scared.

Would it hurt, you wondered as the two of you messily kissed each other and staggered over to Hobie's bed. Climbing on, you lay beneath him, shivering with each gentle tap of his cock against your belly, smearing pre across your naval. All you could do was plead for him to “Be gentle, please.”

“I will, luv. I will.” Hobie swallowed dryly, unsure if he could actually guarantee such a thing. He didn't know what “gentle” in this context looked like. He was just as much a virgin to this as you were, inexperienced and unknowing.

Hobie reached over and grabbed the lube he had bought specifically for this. He had heard it was supposed to help, from where, he wasn't exactly sure. He didn't even know if he got the right one.

It was sticky on his fingers, wet as he reached out and applied it to your entrance, cold when he applied it to himself. Each step closer to two cherries popped and a whole new world of untold pleasures.

Hobie slotted his way between your legs and immediately you looked your heels into the plush of his ass to bring him closer out of some deep instinct. He leaned down and let you kiss his lips tenderly, the only thing the two of you really knew how to do.

“I don'– know how long I’ll last.” He admitted sheepishly, tip teasing at your wet ring of unstretched muscles, never before used by anyone. Hobie was embarrassed to admit it but all you did was smile and kiss him again. “It’ll be okay.” You didn't care if you finished or not, just that your first time was with Hobie.

He nodded firmly and looked between your flushed bodies to alone himself before slowly easing himself into the softness of your love. His fingers dug into the plush flesh of your waists, his body trembled as he sank further into you, moaning softly.

You whined at the stretch, unsure if what you felt was pain or pleasure, maybe both. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you pulled him down to embrace him. Hobie didn't mind, couldn't think about much of anything other than the way your warmth engulfed him inch by inch and held him in a wet embrace.

Hobie babbled without thought or aim into your ear, his hips pushing forward until he bottomed out. You cried a little, whimpering as he settled deep within a part of you never before touched. “Hobieee!” You let out in a whiny moan as he began to pull back, dragging the thick of his cock against all your tender spots, making you see stars.

You two held each other, a tangle of limbs, panting into each other's ears words of devotion and adoration. Hobie kisses you feverishly, a sloppy mess of lips and tongue and love. His thrusts tenderly, unsure exactly where the threshold where pleasure crosses into pain lay. Were those sounds of satisfaction? Was he doing it right?

“Are you okay? Am- Am I doing okay?” His large hand came to cup your face, his hips rutting into your softness. You nodded, eyes fluttering, mouth seeking out his once more to kiss him. You wanted skin, flesh, the warmth of him holding you. Your heels dug deeper, pulling him closer and he conceded and melted into you.

His hands, aristocratic and beautiful, roaming for body with insatiable yet tender want. Hobie fucked you in sweet little thrusts, both an attempt not to hurt you and an attempt not to cum too quick. He needed you to go first, just to know your were satisfied.

So he clumsily stroked where you were most sensitive, only knowing how to touch you based on your response, how your dulcet moans rang out as your hips writhed to meet his.

“Hobie, Hobie, Hobie.” You chanted with the building of your orgasm, a prayer on your tongue. “Oh– God…” You grasped him, gasping for air as you shivered with the throes of your climax. It was subtle, soft, cradling you in its arms. Your walls fluttered, you were hot all over, seeing stars.

Hobie babbled incoherently at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. You watched with an eagerness as he came, eyes rolling as he firmly pressed his hips to you and let himself unravel within your tenderness. He whispered your name and you felt euphoria.

“Did I do okay? Did I feel okay?”

Hobie looked upon you softly. “You did- you felt- like fuckin’ heaven.”

taglist: @hobs-kiss, @hoe-bie

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x gender neutral reader smut #spiderpunk smut #spiderpunk fic #spiderpunk x gn!reader

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intoxicated-chan · 11 months

Text

Late Night Moments with Miguel O’Hara

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ It was normal for Miguel to return home late, you weren’t surprised by his usual entrance through your bedroom window. But what you did enjoy when he came home late is the little routine the two of you have.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ This is a mixture of a fic and headcanons of mine. Miguel is plaguing my mind, I’ve already got two stories in the works. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! And requests will be open soon!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 533

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, heavy fluff, light blood, injuries, bruises, mentions of violence…

It starts with a few taps on your window, the taps play in a certain pattern so you know who it is. A few seconds later, the window slides open and in comes Miguel dressed in his Spider-Man costume. He enters with a huff as he closes the window and makes sure it’s locked.

Next, he welcomes you with a tight hug, holding you for a few minutes before you ask if he’d like to get cleaned up. It’s always a hot shower when he comes home, soothing his muscles from the hours of fighting and swinging around.

You can see the bruises and cuts on his skin but it always made him happy when you kissed every single one of them, it made him feel better about himself which is why he enjoyed your touch so much.

Depending on the day (or night), if Miguel had an awful night, then instead of a shower, it’ll be a hot bath. You leaned back as he layed in your arms. He used to think taking baths were childish but he now enjoys them. It’s your favorite because you get to pamper him, especially washing his hair.

Then came drying off. He’d usually leave his hair dripping wet but sometimes he lets you towel dry his hair, maybe style it. Then changing clothes.

Then came his wounds. Bandaging them up as carefully as possible so you don’t cause Miguel more pain. You then kiss all of them again when you finish, “All done!” You smile.

Next, it’s either staying up even later or going straight to bed. If he’s feeling hungry then he’d make food for the two of you, if he doesn’t feel tired then it’s a movie night.

But in the end they always end the same. Holding each other tightly. Basically the face-to-face embrace.

He always needs to know that you’re with him. There were nights where he awoke without you there, he immediately panics. Which is why if you need to use the bathroom, you’re gonna have to wake him up to tell him where you’re going.

Movie nights are interesting. He likes picking out horror movies so he can feel you holding onto him for safety. He says he hates rom coms but he loves them deep down. Then there’s comedy movies when he or you needs a laugh.

Nights where he decides to cook, he likes to share food from his heritage and it always makes him smile when you’re willing to learn how to make it.

But one thing he hates is that if he has work that still needs to be done, he tries to finish as quickly as possible but he’s not gonna lie, there are some nights where he forgets to take care of himself.

That’s when you come in, having Lyla remind him to drink water, coming into his home office to bring him some food and maybe cuddle on his lap for a few minutes before getting back to work.

But this time, when he’s finished, he goes straight to you. Too tired to even change his clothes, he immediately falls asleep.

It is nights like these where Miguel finally feels at peace.

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