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[amethystrose298]

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.

[amethystrose298]

As someone who gave birth to quadruplets sons 2 years ago, I can say shitting out an egg is probably the most similar thing to giving birth. Y'know, shoving a watermelon through a grape sized hole? Lemon at best.

I made a silly comic about how the egg came to be ...

Since tumblr is dumb and ‘read more’ doesn’t show up on mobile ***Slight nsfw on the first image***

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How exactly can this dude lay and egg you may ask? Well I'll tell you but fair warning it might weird some people out.

In this au Hawks is intersex and he has some bird anatomy. That bird anatomy is called a cloaca (if you don't know what that is then I'd look it up) and that's how he was able to lay an egg.

His fem reproductive organ behaves the same way as a chicken/birds does ... in that it makes/forms an egg when fertilized. It won't make a kid like humans repro organs do.

[amethystrose298]

This just in, are DivaCups magical and you don’t have to worry about leakage? Absolutely! But if you have a fucking uterus that sets further back they are a fucking BITCH to get out holy shit

[amethystrose298]

[amethystrose298]

by UlternateFreak

It’s been two weeks since Peter Parker last saw Harley Keener - and with each passing day, the teen sought contact, above all else, with Harley’s wide and brimming mouth.

“You wanna see what else of yours you can fit in here, Pete-?”

Words: 2097, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of With Love, You Should Go Ahead and Take the Risk

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Underage

Categories: M/M

Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts

Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Boys Being Boys, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Horny Teenagers, Thighs, Mouth Kink, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker’s Parental Figure, Boys In Love, Oral Sex, Underage Sex, Gay Sex, Boys Will Be Boys, Mentors, Lust

[amethystrose298]

R18(？)のルクベンついったー絵まとめ

[amethystrose298]

[amethystrose298]

To the fanfic “Birthmarks”

[amethystrose298]

show me if you want me

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3aSsEMH

by volcanic

Comet cocks her head at him curiously, and he smiles down at her, still scratching through her fur. 

“You recognize that name, huh? Lance? Your favorite, apparently?” He teases. All at once, Comet gets back up, tail wagging. Keith looks at her in confusion for a moment, but he barely has time to wonder what she’s doing before a familiar blue light engulfs the two of them.  

When the blur of light fades from his vision, Keith is greeted with the familiar hiss of running water and the very startled face of Lance Álvarez.

✦

In which Keith accidentally sees Lance’s dick, and several other things follow.

Words: 9219, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Keith’s Wolf (Voltron)

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Trans Male Keith (Voltron), Porn With Plot, Fluff and Smut, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Hung Lance (Voltron), Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Getting Together, Awkward Flirting, Top Lance (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), First Time, Dirty Talk, Laughter During Sex, Frottage, Grinding, Blow Jobs, Riding, mlm author, trans author

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3aSsEMH

[amethystrose298]

Wanna Ride?

Hey ya’ll! Part 2 of So Much More To It is still in progress, as well as many other things that I’ve been working on. So, to make up for that, here’s a very short fic to fill in that space! This fic was ofc inspired by that Boyf Riends cover of “Do You Wanna Ride?” on youtube and @softmushie‘s glorious animatic! Hope ya’ll enjoy! <3 Words: 1978 Genre: Fluff Pairing: Jeremy Heere/Michael mell Warnings: Swearing, Innuendos/Sexual Tension “So,” Michael began softly, glancing down shyly. Then, his gaze, along with expression shifted into something far more devious with his flushed rosy cheeks. “Do you wanna ride?”

Keep reading

[amethystrose298]

more video games and chill!

[amethystrose298]

I was literally just going to send the word penis in anonymous but I fucking cANT

Congratulations, this ask earned you the full uncensored version of this picture:

Right here.

[amethystrose298]

M: (Not crying nOT CRYING-) ///

[amethystrose298]

pahaha someone stop me

[amethystrose298]

i just think it would be good to explore an AU with the concept of phone sex operator jeremy heere yknow. jeremy who routinely accidentally replies with “you too” when people greet him on his birthday being like, ridiculously good at phone sex. he’s an actor! he acts! and he likes sex! and he’s, well, he hasn’t had enough of it to be confident that he’s good at it but he sure did spend the entirety of his teenage life vividly fantasizing about nearly every sexual situation under the sun. being a phone sex operator is basically that but professional, out loud, catering to somebody else’s preferences, and Getting Paid For It.

jeremy is fucking fantastic at it.

(there’s also the whole bit where it’s very nice to have somebody at your mercy and desiring you, if only for forty minutes. he doesn’t have to worry about how he looks or where to put his hands. he just has to talk and he can make somebody feel good. feel wanted. feel safe. phone sex operator jeremy heere who has a few regulars because he knows what it’s like to be nervous and scared and jagged in the body you’re in so phone sex aside, he always makes sure to that the client is comfortable. that they’ll have fun and let go. and sure enough, no matter how anxious the caller is in the beginning, come (HA) the end of the call they’re spent and happy and they are definitely calling again.)

im not even picky with ships like i just think in my honest opinion that it’d be great to think about phone sex operator jeremy heere casually spouting filth while folding origami or writing down his grocery list. it’s also really neat because Oh What If Plot Point That A Caller Knows Jeremy IRL it neatly sidesteps the whole How Did They Not Recognize His Voice plothole because

irl jeremy in response to the words “thank you”: im so sorry.

phone sex operator jeremy: i’d lie back and spread my legs for you—

IT DOESNT COMPUTE AT ALL. NOBODY WOULD RECOGNIZE HIM. until….somebody does….and isn’t THAT a modern romcom or WHAT

[amethystrose298]

thought:

the bmc fandom shipping pre-squip jeremy with squipped jeremy like the onceler

[amethystrose298]

Show Yourself

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/39cKusF

by Seluvia

The thrilling adventures of young witch Michael and his monster boyfriends.

Words: 3422, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Jeremy Heere, Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere’s Squip

Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere’s Squip/Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Jeremy Heere’s Squip

Additional Tags: The Fantasy AU no one asked for, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, tagged for future relationships, Werewolf Jeremy, Witch Michael, Incubus Squip, Masturbation, Feeding, Voyeurism

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/39cKusF