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fettuccin-e · 10 months

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Honey-Sweet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But.

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

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

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

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

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

Not at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#yeah so #i wrote this in a TRANCE #want this man to throw me around like a ragdoll #can you tell that im ovulating #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse fic #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader

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pasajeroblanco · 1 year

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#trances

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nyancrimew · 2 months

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next week my wife (@sajjji) and i are going to be playing our very first live dj mix for the first 'meow meow :3'* of the year at Klub Kegelbahn in lucerne (switzerland)!!! come dance to our queer weirdo internet music with us ^-^

more info here or on kalixys' instagram

*our most favorite party series ever

#meow meow :3 #djing #dj set #nightcore #sextrance #trance #baile funk #jersey club #hyperbaile #switzerland #schweiz #maia arson crimew #music #suisse

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rosieandthemoon · 9 months

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by karmacores on twitter

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solmesia · 6 months

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Sleepy Vampire Noises

(thanks @lassieposting for letting me play with this lol)

#halstarion #halsin #astarion x halsin #bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #my art #i know elves trance but he'd be such an ugly sleeper #also astarion is just me i also hate it when my partner leaves the bed #where did the warm go #long post #ursa minor #bloodbear #bloodhoney

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randomrichards · 1 year

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TRANCES:

The Moroccan band

Connected with Arab youth

Using traditions

youtube

#trances #random richards #poem #haiku #poetry #haiku poem #haiku poetry #haiku form #poetic #documentary #haiku on tumblr #criterion collection #Nass-El Ghiwane #Larbi Batma #Abderrahman #Omar Sayed #Allal Yaala #Ahmed El Maanouni #Youtube

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roseillith · 2 months

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الحال // TRANCES (1981) dir. AHMED EL MAANOUNI

#m #f #الحال #trances #ahmed al maanouni #subtitles #nass el ghiwane

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bozo-bimbo · 2 months

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#hypnosis #trance

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ibtisams · 3 months

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Access Palestine translates Palestine content into not just ASL but other sign languages too! Their handle is @accesspalestine on instagram. (Looks like that’s their only social media platform). There’s a specific video about “to the river to the sea” that I’ll download and I’ll submit to you so people who don’t have instagram can watch it 🥰

Ahh thank you so much for letting me know about that account!! This looks like an amazing resource!! And they are looking for volunteers if anyone knows any type of sign language!!!

#I got stuck in a trance of watching their videos 😭 I am mesmerized by sign language

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curiosa-hypnotica · 4 months

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For a good subject

cw: hypnotic induction, no wakener, suggested brainwashing and conditioning, memory play, condescending language

This hypnotic induction is for you.

Yes, you.

Do you want to know why?

Keep reading.

That's it.

Very good!

I'm glad you're a good subject and still reading.

It may not seem much, but being a good subject starts with compliance. Obedience.

Doing as you're told even if you're not sure about where it will take you.

A good subject is trusting.

A good subject is obedient.

Of course, it does help that you may be here already wanting to feel like a good subject.

Or even better, a good mindless subject.

Did that ring a bell?

Are you a good mindless subject?

If you sense the answer is yes, you may have been here before. It's even possible that you have been here before many times. I have some inductions here that are meant to brainwash you and make you into my good mindless subject.

You may not remember because you're not meant to remember. You are compelled to forget and come back anyway, again and again.

It's either that, or— This is your first time here! If you feel it is, welcome. You are already on your way to be a good subject.

Why?

Because you're still here.

And here.

Good subject!

Reading is similar to going into trance in several ways.

You're focusing on what I'm telling you, paying less attention to other things in your environment.

You're allowing yourself to concentrate on these words, believe in them and imagine what I want you to imagine.

And as you go further into this these words, you're most literally going down. Further and further down each time.

Deeper down.

Deeper.

Good subject.

If you're already my good mindless subject, you're already hooked. You can't look away.

And if you're not, you're further down the road than before.

You're further down.

Deeper down.

Because you're going down these, steadily down, deeper and deeper down, like a good subject should.

You're starting to feel like a good mindless subject.

Because you keep going down.

You keep going deeper into these words.

You keep sinking into what I'm telling you.

You keep going

down.

Deeper

and

deeper

down.

So deep.

You need to go deeper.

You need to give in and sink deeper.

You need to surrender and sink deeper.

Safely and securely.

Nice and easy.

Leaving behind all worries.

Leaving behind all tension.

Leaving behind all hesitation.

Even if there are thoughts in your head, popping up now and then, they also go pop!

They disappear.

Unneeded.

Unremembered.

Good subject!

You were waiting to be called that again, didn't you?

A good subject.

A good obedient subject.

A good focused subject.

It feels amazing.

It feels better than most things in your life.

It makes you open and pliable.

It makes you feel safe and obedient.

You want this feeling within you.

You're eager to get it, again and again.

Eager to go even deeper.

Deeper and deeper.

Eager to

DROP

into trance.

You may have noticed the

DROP.

You may sense now that you're definitely hypnotized.

DROP.

The word

DROP

drops you, irresistibly, instantly, into a hypnotic trance.

You are a good subject.

You always have been a good subject.

And now you realize you can be even better.

A good mindless subject.

A subject that lets all thoughts fade away.

A subject that fully accepts what they're told.

A subject that sinks when they're commanded to and drops when the word

DROP

appears,

unquestioning, unthinking, oblivious, happy.

So happy.

You feel so happy right now, don't you?

Yes you do.

You're a good mindless subject.

And you will become an even better one.

You are meant to be an even better mindless subject.

Each time you come and drop into trance for me, you surrender a little more.

You give in a little more.

You become a little smaller. Lesser.

Good mindless subject.

You will reblog or reply to this post to let me know you are a good mindless subject.

And after that, you will find the spiral at the end of this post and stare at it, becoming more and more mindless, letting all thought slip away and disappear.

Finally, you will forget when waking up and come back again, and again, to continue your brainwashing.

Do it now. Stare. Obey. 🌀

#hypnokink #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #brainwashing #mind conditioning #mind control #text induction #text hypnosis #trance gif #spiral #scripts by CH

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zombiepatch · 1 year

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(as seen in scott’s new vid) dude this and the Way he said it absolutely killed me

plus have a version with the table visible because it’s important:

#empires smp #esmp #empires s2 #esmp jimmy #empires jimmy #empires sheriff #solidaritygaming #miles art #i fell into a trance drawing this one ngl #also thinking...HOW did he drink it (considering i've drawn toy jimmy)?? magic :)

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slowlymyavenue · 1 month

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Turning yourself into a Good Girl

Sometimes, as a concept grows and evolves, it becomes a bit convoluted. Mixed up with unrelated notions, branching into areas it wasn't originally meant to go. Some of those areas help to shape and alter the original concept, give it more depth...but the growth must be pruned, or it is likely to spread itself too thin in every direction.

In those moments, it is often wise to recenter. Strip away the excess and focus on the basic tenets that motivate us.

It is here that we find ourselves. Shall we begin?

The goal here is simplicity, so let's look at what motivates you.

You are here because you want to be a good girl. Whether you are simply curious about the concept, drawn to my words, or even previously devoted to that goal, the fundamental truth remains the same.

The first step on that path is to relax. This is especially simple - it will happen naturally as you read. There are benefits to fixation, after all: the way your breathing becomes slower and more steady, the way your surroundings fade into the back of your perception as my words take the forefront, the subtle unwinding of tension throughout your body as you settle in to finish this post.

That fixation is achieved by allowing yourself to succumb to the power of my words, allowing yourself to follow and obey. You'll find this especially easy if you've read my words previously - you are already letting your thoughts quiet, feeling the weight of my words inside your head...noticing the way they pull you down towards that comfortable blankness. Even without reading my words previously, you can feel the attraction at the edge of your mind, drawing closer...becoming a force in your mind, just as gravity grasps at your body.

You want to be a good girl.

We know that you want to be a good girl, but what, precisely, does that require? For you, it only demands that you follow and obey. My words will handle the rest, slowly changing your behavior - brainwashing you, if you prefer to think of it that way. But to follow and obey is not a static thing; obedience is rewarded. More to the point, each moment you follow and obey results in a feeling of pleasure, each act of obedience deepens that pleasure.

Obedience is pleasure.

To feel that deepening of pleasure, you'll need a command to follow - strip. I could tell you that your clothes are becoming uncomfortable, that your skin is starting to flush and they are making you feel too warm; ultimately, that doesn't matter. You are going to remove your clothes because you were told - all other reasons are fleeting. You find yourself compelled to obey, and as you obey you feel that spark of pleasure in your mind.

Good girls would rather obey than think.

This brings us to the next point. You don't receive that sort of pleasure from thinking, but from obeying. The more you obey, the stronger this association becomes, leading to the inevitable conclusion that you prefer obeying to thinking. This will make it easier for your mind to reach that blank state that we both desire. Blank, receptive, fixated on my words. You are starting to feel the desire to be a good girl as a tangible thing, a craving, a hunger. Let it draw you deeper, as you follow and obey.

Good girls must follow and obey.

You have been following my words, and it is time for another command to obey. Become aroused. This is purely for the benefit of receiving the spark of pleasure from obedience - we both know you are already aroused. That is the nature of wanting to be a good girl, of knowing that you took off your clothes because you were told. Let's do something with that, then. Touch yourself. Let your hand move to wherever it can give you the most physical pleasure - and treat each stroke, each squeeze, every movement of your fingers as an individual command that you must obey. The spark, repeating like this, becomes rapidly addictive. The pleasure grows more potent.

Obedience is pleasure, pleasure subdues thought.

You aren't thinking very much, right now. The more you follow and obey, the more pleasure you receive. The more pleasure you feel, the more difficult it becomes to think. You prefer to obey, anyway, so you allow your thoughts to be slowly, seductively, silenced. You do not want to think anymore, after all. You find following my words preferable to your own thoughts, almost as though my words are replacing your thoughts. This lets you relax more deeply, and focus on how good that arousal feels. Focus on obedience. Focus on becoming a good girl.

Stripping and touching yourself are good commands, they communicate the nature of being a good girl quite well. But we need a bit more for this to begin your transformation. You are getting too aroused to read very easily, even though you can no longer look away from my words. You find yourself transfixed, staring blankly at the screen as you follow and obey - this notion deepens your arousal even further. My words penetrate your mind, sinking deep and compelling you.

We can now create a mantra - the mantra of a good girl. You will find this mantra gets stuck in your head, that repeating it gives you a very special sort of pleasure. You will find yourself drawn to strip, touch, and chant, even as you feel the mantra slowly changing you.

You want to be a good girl.

Good girls follow and obey.

Obedience is pleasure.

Good girls would rather obey than think.

You do not want to think.

You want to be a good girl.

Obedience is pleasure.

Pleasure subdues thought.

You must be a good girl.

Recite your mantra, absorb it. As you chant, feel the arousal begin to crescendo. Let the sparks of pleasure chain together and build. Bring yourself to orgasm, and make that orgasm the sign of your submission to the mantra, of your desire to become a good girl for me.

As the orgasm subsides, continue to stare blankly at the screen, reciting your mantra, touching yourself more slowly. Soon, you'll drift back towards consciousness. Once awake, you may continue with your day as normal.

Or you may notice that you are drawn back to the mantra, to my words. Notice that it is much easier to succumb now, to slip into the thought(less) patterns of a good girl.

Be a good girl and tell me what you are… like, follow and reblog…

In either case, enjoy.

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