berrieluv

[berrieluv]

Ok hear me out… Bee learning Bucky’s name and calling him Bucky instead of papa to sound like the grown ups. Bucky hates it. But luckily it doesn’t last long.

Bee tried it one day.

It starts with a little g'morning Bucky. Everyone thinks it's cute. Except Bucky. His eyes narrow as he stares down at her trying to process why his baby is calling him that. It only makes her giggle. Bee has never been afraid of him so his infamously lethal glares don't work on her.

In fact she gets more emboldened throughout the day.

You look so pwetty Bucky.

Bucky you wanna watch Moana with me?

You wants me and Mr. Tato to helps you with business Bucky?

Bucky me and Mr. Tato want dino nuggies for lunch. You wants some Bucky?

You gots three more seconds of work Bucky.

By the afternoon, Bucky is at his wit's end. He's her Papa damn it. This is worse than when you call him James. He blames Steve for this. Bucky can't prove that this was his doing but Bucky knows he's behind it.

Bucky decides the best way to handle this is to treat the situation like he does one of his negotiations. Take control and show how ruthless he can be if his terms aren't met.

Bucky leaves the contracts for the casino behind and strides into Bee's office across the hallway. Knocking on her open door, Bucky waits until she stops coloring and then he says her name.

Bee's face drops, disconcertion drawing her brows in. Bucky deliberately repeats her name asking if she's ready for lunch. Her head tilts back, her hand flying to the front of her teddy bear onesie. "Oh no, no Papa I not—no I Bumblebee."

A grin, relieved yet smug, spreads across his face. She doesn't realize that she reverted back to Papa but he does. That sounds better and it makes him happier than he'll ever admit. "Are you my sweet Bee?"

Bee nods emphatically. "Yes and I weady for dino nuggies."

She takes his hand and they start down the hallway. They're almost at the kitchen when Bee peers up at him. "Bucky can we has apple juice? My tummy needs it."

Bucky bites back a sigh. Normally he appreciates her stubborn nature but not today. Not with this. A beat passes as they cross the doorway and step into the sun-streaked kitchen.

Bucky stoops down and as he picks her up, he says, "of course you can." He casually tacks on her name, ignoring her offended gasp.

Lunch continues like this. Her calling him Bucky, him tossing her full name back at her. By the time her small, colorful plate is nearly clean, Bee is waving her macaroni and cheese covered spoon at the pakhan. "No I Bumblebee."

"And I'm your Papa." He retorts, stealing a berry off her plate.

You find them staring at each other, locked in a battle of wills. It's impossible to figure out who will concede first, you thought Bucky would cave the way he usually does but he has a determined glint in his eyes. It matches Bee's.

You'll never stop being entertained by these two.

Then Bee decides she's had enough of this game, she wants to be his Bumblebee again. She lifts her chubby arms, gazing up at him. Her voice soft and sweet. "Papa I sleepy."

Bucky smiles, reaching over to pick her up, gently patting her back. "Alright, sweet Bee. Why don't you take a nap and when you're done you can help me with some work. I need your help picking which one of Uncle Steve's restaurants I'm going to take over."

"Oh the one with the 'sgana." She yawns, snuggling closer, her eyelids drooping. "It's my favorites."

"Now it's yours." The lasagna and the restaurant.

Bucky's going to have her make Steve a thank you card and he's going to personally deliver it tomorrow.

Your mouth falls open, a chuckle spills out. "Bucky you can't just take—"

Bucky slows down, stopping in front of you. He peers down at you, blatantly stating your name. His deep voice rolls over you as his words land at your feet like a brick. "Are you sure you want to take his side?"

Oh.

Oh, you don't like that. It sounds wrong and unnatural on his tongue. "Lasagna is my favorite too."

Bucky wraps his arm around you, his lips brushing over yours. "I know it is, Malyshka."

[berrieluv]

how dare you... how f*cking dare you?!😟

cheating shouldn't be romanticized!

meanwhile me: *intensely reading AJ cheating fic with a smug lip bite* ohh, papi—😩

- Rosewood

the only way I condone cheating it’s when it’s aj

[berrieluv]

<3; aaron johnson x reader (i think i didn't use pronouns but it's mention that the reader has a vagina) summary: you know damn well, you horny friends. kiki says: this fits contains unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), cheating kink, the feel of guilt that it's never enough to make him stop, i think this smut it's very light, just trying to keep you fed while i work in the angst. also english isn't my first language so i apologize for the bad writing.

me and your husband.

For the public, having you involved in the movie Kraven with Aaron after Bullet Train was just a normal occurrence, two actors working together more than once, nothing that hasn't happen before and nothing that won't happen again.

For Aaron, it was just his masterplan working. He craved you near him, he needed you there. He couldn't function properly anymore without you, without your body and the way your legs wrap around his neck.

His blue eyes are long gone by now, so full with lust he can not think of anything else. He already made you cum three times before you had to take a shower and attend a date, and now here you are again, seizing the day like you started it, with his tongue inside your wet cunt.

He kisses your thigh softly, his hand behind your knee, his mouth marking every inch of your skin with kisses, smelling your dripping pussy and looking amused at the wet spot on the beige sheets.

"You bought them for me?" He moans, looking at your lingerie next to him, the one he just took off the moment you walked back from dinner, his face buried between your thighs, you didn't. You bought them because they were pretty and expensive, and you could afford them "You look so pretty" He says.

His wife is sleeping in the next room, if you get close enough to the wall you could hear her sleep, which was weird, an expensive five stars hotel with thin walls, you must think they would be soundproof for the price. Or maybe it was your guilt, your senses sharpened in shame, making sure you never forget he's a married man.

But maybe you weren't better than that, but why should you. He wanted you, he needed you and loved you even more than you found him attractive, which was to say much.

"Fuck..." You moan when Aaron's tongue was inside your pussy. His hand grabbing your underwear and placing it on your thigh again, grabbing your skin and the lingerie along, the other hand over your belly, keeping you grounded.

Aaron licks the sides of your pussy, his tongue gently going through your folds, he teases your sensitive parts, hitting the right places, he knows how to use his tongue, and it feels like it has been wasted all this time.

Your moans grew louder when two of his fingers are inside you without any previous notice, moving them in and out, his tongue sucking on your clit and you feel yourself getting lost in pleasure.

"Is this good?" He asks out of breath, a big smile plastered across his face, almost like he thought he didn't need anything else but the sweet scent of your dripping cunt.

Was it good? It was fantastic.

"Hold for me, princess?" He asks softly, your legs curled up while your hands keep them up grabbing behind your knees.

He touches your ass, his hand traveling all over every part of your body, his lips are all over your sweet wet cunt, eating like a starving man, making sure every single drop of your wetness goes into his mouth.

"I need you..." He moans against your folds "Fuck, I need you so much"

Aaron takes all of your release, drinking it all, when he looks up his chin is all wet and a spark of proudness in his eyes.

He doesn't even look this proud when he's on a press conference.

"Keep holding your legs" He orders, taking off his jeans and boxers "Good girl" He praises with a smile when he walks back to bed.

You remind silence most of the times, your words consumed by your moans and whimpers, you want him so badly.

"Please..." You finally find the way to speak, your breath heavy and your heart beating faster than it should when he starts thrusting into you. His right hand holding himself on the mattress to not lay all of his weight on you.

His left hand massaging your breasts, treating it like it was a stress ball.

"Shit, princess" He moans, his eyes closing even if he tries to fight it, he loves watching you. He loves the look in your eyes and how they roll, going all blank when he starts thrusting faster.

"Oh!" You moan, and he smirks like a bastard, enjoying knowing he's the one making you feel like this "Oh, God! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cry, almost chocking in your own pleasure.

"Sh, sh..." He coos "Baby, you're chocking, princess" He chuckles, enjoying your desperation "I'm not even near your throat"

He caresses your cheek with a soft smile, moving slowly down to your throat, applying just the right pressure to make you gasp for air, shutting your moans.

"Don't be so loud..." He demands, it was meant to be teasing, but his voice sounds dominant, his expression is serious and his eyes darkened with lust and need of control "You know Sam is in the next room"

Sam, he doesn't refer as my wife anymore. She stopped being my wife a few months ago, just a few weeks after you became my everything. The air he breathed, not only his wants but his needs.

You feel a warm sensation running through your insides, a loud groan when he lets it out, his cum painting your cunt and dripping down your skin.

"God, I love my little masterpiece" He chuckles, watching your thighs covered by his cunt. "You're tired?"

He asks softly and you nod, his phone starts ringing at the same time you hear his wife walking around their hotel room, you wonder if he hears her.

"Your phone..." You say with your eyes closed when he ignores it and walks to the bathroom.

"Can wait" He says without hesitation.

"What if it's your wife?" You know is her.

"She can wait" Aaron says, it's almost like he doesn't care and a part of you knows he doesn't. "I'll clean you up first, super star"

[berrieluv]

Imagine Bucky finding his adorably, heavily pregnant girl perched onto kitchen counter rummaging for snacks like a little gremlin in the middle of the night. He’d woken up, reaching over the bed to cuddle you only to find it empty. He snorted when he swiped his hand over the sheets feeling bits of crumbs left over from your secret stash of snacks. He rubbed his eyes, noting there was a trail of evidence that led out of the bedroom, the faint sound of crunching carrying down the hall.

Bucky swung his legs over the bed, trudging towards the source of the sounds, his eye growing wide at the sight before him in the kitchen.

“Oh my god”

You had crawled onto the counter, knees perched on the marble top, digging through the cupboards with your hands deep in a box of Oreos. You were too busy with your scavenging for snacks to hear the soldier walk in, huffing when you noticed there was only one box of Dunkaroos left.

“What you up to babygirl" Bucky cooed, quietly wrapping his arms around you from behind, holding you securely when you squeaked in surprise. You gave him a sheepish smile, leaning back into his hold while still scanning the contents of your spread; chips, chocolate and various sour candies all covering the kitchen.

"I was hungry" You shrugged innocently while Bucky shook his head, making sure you couldn't squirm around after getting caught in such a ridiculous position. "And so was Bucky jr"

"Bucky jr. told his mama to sneak into the kitchen like a mouse and crawl onto the counters?"

"I didn't wanna wake you and I couldn't reach" You rubbed your swollen belly for emphasis, giving him a pout when he cocked an eyebrow.

"Come down from there you little gremlin, I'll talk to my son about this later" Bucky gave your butt a light pat before scooping you up an carrying you back to bed, kissing the crumbs that clung into your bottom lip. "I'll buy you all the snacks you want first thing in the morning, how does that sound?"

"Including Dunkaroo's? I think Sam ate them all and he just likes the frosting"

"I'll buy Dunkaroo's"

"And chips? I need something salty"

"I'll get you chips babydoll"

"And donuts?" You batted your lashes at him knowing you hardly needed to, he was already a puddle of mush for you and your growing belly.

"Alright bunny" He chuckled, carrying you in his arms, loving the way you tucked your face into his neck with a content sigh. He gently laid you down, making sure you were comfy and fast asleep before shuffling down the bed and lifting you t-shirt up, eyes narrowed at your belly, his voice a low whisper.

"Now. Let's talk about why your dietary choices and why your have your mama climbing the house like spider boy at 3:03am"

[berrieluv]

I've got plans, sorry | James potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: James is whipped. He adores his girlfriend so much, to the point that it starts to bother his friends. His reaction to a confrontation about it with his friends is to completely pull away from you, always finding new excuses to avoid you, leaving you to try and approach him. When you overhear him trying to be cool under peer pressure and say that you're too clingy, you also start pulling away, using the same excuses.

Notes: Angst with a happy ending probably, I love happy endings. Established relationship, For plot purposes, Sirius will start off as an arse

Lmao so might become a multi part fic after all if the fates will it so

_____________________________

James Potter found himself a girlfriend, and it wasn't Lily Evans.

The news spread around faster than the Nimbus 1000 could fly and had everyone do a double take when they saw James strutting around, your books in one arm, held to his broad chest. His other arm holding you close.

"Everyone's staring," you whispered to James. His only reaction seemed to be walking even straighter than before, chest puffed out in pride, ready to show you off. "It's because you're breathtakingly gorgeous of course," he winked at you and you stiffled a laugh, shaking your arm and flipping a uno reverse up at him. He grinned and accepted the card, stuffing it up his own sleeve.

He had put in so much effort to get you to notice him, he almost couldn't believe it when you had eventually admitted that you fancied him back.

"Not sure why they all seem so surprised though." If you didn't know better, you would say that he sounded offended. "I mean, I've been fighting for your affection for quite a while now, right, Darling?"

He looked down to you for affirmation. "Well," you began. "You still flirted a lot with Lily, so I do get their confusion." You tentatively brought up.

James pulled you to a stop, spun you around and pressed him lips to yours in an overly dramatic way. It had you giggling in the kiss. When you pulled away, he pulled you back to his chest, bringing you in for a hug.

You grunted at the sudden impact from your own chest at the pile of books he still held in front of him and laughed. "Hey!" You exclaimed and pressed your arm to your sore chest. "Let me help you with that, darling," he quickly offered with a wide grin. You playfully rolled your eyes at his excitement and grabby hands and swatted them away in amusement. You let him press you closer to his side, and he turned his head to kiss the top of yours.

"I'll show them how in love I am with you," he sighed happily in your hair.

You came to a stop where you two had to part ways, having picked different courses. James returned your books to you, and you left a sweet peck on his cheek.

You both walked to your classes, but not before looking back, meeting each other's eyes, a smile and a wink thrown in each other's direction.

James was always around you and vice versa, spending a great deal of your time with the marauders. You'd already been on good terms with Sirius, by which you meant that he knew your name, your own parents on his parents' payroll. You knew Peter who was your partner for your muggle studies class, and you had been friends with Remus ever since he had been kind enough to share his ink, paper and extra quill for taking notes during your first class of transfiguration. You had severely underestimated how much writing you would have to do in class instead of, you know, transfiguring. So you had sort of just joined the marauders, not that they seemed to mind. Or so you thought.

You were in the library as usual like every Thursday evening and were currently waiting for James, who hadn't shown up yet. In the past two hours and 20 minutes that you'd been waiting for him, you had already finished tomorrow's homework, as well as next week's. You looked at the gigantic clock, displaying the time. 20 minutes past eight.

'A little longer,' you told yourself. "Give him another 40 minutes."

But James wasn't going to be showing up for you anytime soon. Instead, he was in the boys' dormitory with the rest of the marauders, downing alcohol, cheered on by Sirius, trying to prove that he still valued their friendship.

Because when Sirius had complained to him about being a simp and never hanging out with just the guys anymore, he hadn't paid it any mind. He figured that he and Sirius simply had a different mindset now he had a girlfriend while Sirius was still ever the player that he was known for being.

When Remus told him that they seemed to have lost their friend, his attention had finally been caught. And when even Peter told him that he agreed with Sirius and Remus that he was too whipped and acting embarrassingly clingy, he had been all ears.

He had to admit after all, that they were right. There was almost never a moment when James wasn't holding on to you. He basically hovered around you and called out on it, he felt incredibly embarrassed. So there he was, drinking and completely forgetting about his study date with you.

When you figured he wasn't going to be showing up, you made your way to your dorm as well. Hey, at least you were productive. "Where's you bodyguard, L/N," Someone called after you and you shrugged it off.

You enjoyed spending time with James and his friends. Not really having many friends of your own due to the fact that you were taking classes of a year above you with James.

Your birthday was in November, you see. That meant that despite being born in the same year as James, you had waited another year before receiving your owl, not having been 11 yet the year before.

You had bought your books anyway and studied by yourself every evening after muggle school, your father teaching you during the weekends, all out of pure spite at the clearly flawed system.

After proving to be rather proficient during the first semester, you had been given the opportunity to get extra classes on the matter of the second years and moved to take classes with the second years during your second semester.

The cons of that, however, meant not really having any friends. You didn't share classes with your fellow dorm mates. You didn't share a dormitory with your fellow classmates.

So you enjoyed being with James, even if some people told you that you must surely find him too overbearing. This is why the fact that James was suddenly going out of his way to avoid you, hurt, simply put. Your eyes flashed with confusion, and a frown settled upon your face. You wondered if you'd upset him somehow.

"James!" You called out, making your way up to him. You tried not to sigh out loud at the relief that he had actually stopped and turned around to face you. "Hey stranger," you awkwardly laughed with a mini wave. James shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to come in for a kiss, really. But he also knew that Sirius and Remus were waiting for him. He looked back and saw them wave him over.

"Uh, it's Thursday." You managed to say, noticeably quieter than before. You had seen him look around and you wondered. 'Was he embarrassed by you?'

James definitely knew what you were implying but chose to play dumb anyway.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, uh, are you- do you want to join me in the library tonight?" Because you didn't show up last week and haven't mentioned it at all. You didn't say that last part, but James knew what you meant.

"I've got plans, sorry," he breathed out, instantly wanting to bash his head against a wall. 'Coward,' he thought. Though his friends, and mainly Sirius had made fun of him when he was with you, he didn't have to outright lie to you.

He reached his hand out to you, ready to take it back when you had already smiled and nodded. "Oh yeah, sure." You gave him a toothy grin, turned on your heels, and walked away, letting your face fall in disappointment when your back was turned towards James.

James' stretched out arm fell limp to his side and he walked over to his friends, but not before looking back at you as usual. His step faltered when you didn't look back and hastily disappeared behind the corner.

Sirius slapped an arm around James' shoulder. "Let's go Prongs, I've got the best idea for a prank." Remus sighed. That's not what he had meant for to happen.

The following two weeks were spent with you, trying to spend time with your boyfriend and said boyfriend giving out all types of excuses as to why he was really really busy and absolutely had no time for you. Quidditch practice, detention, planned pranks that he definitely couldn't miss out on, the new emergence of "boy's night", other plans, helping Sirius with something, Remus isn't feeling well, you name it.

(Though you did have the slightest feeling that he had been truthful about the last one. It had been the beginning of the full moon after all, and you weren't stupid.)

"Sorry Darling, I've got-"

"-plans, yes, I know." You smiled tightly at him.

"I'm-"

"-sorry. I know that too." And with that, you walked off, shaking your head. 'You love him,' you reminded yourself with a sigh as you walked towards the library. Almost reaching it, you changed your mind and retreated to your room instead. You weren't feeling like studying today.

"Should've gone to the library instead," you murmured to yourself through gritted teeth as you were woken up by the slamming of the door of the common room. You groaned, summoned all your courage and rolled yourself over, falling of the bed and sitting up dazed. Always effective, that method.

You walked down the stairs when you froze at your name.

"Y/N just doesn't know how to leave you alone, right Prongs?" You knew the voice belonged to Sirius.

"Yeah well, I haven't been spending a lot of time with her, laterly," James admitted and the corners of your lips lifted in a soft smile.

"Well, it's still weird. Why doesn't she find her own friends to hang out with anyway?"

"She doesn't have that many," James answered, trying to defend you without directly calling you a loner, but Sirius picked up on it.

"Just because she doesn't have any friends of her own, doesn't mean she needs to interrupt you from spending time with your own, right?"

Remus had been listening and finally looked up from his book. He let his eyes flicker between his two friends. "I'm her friend," he spoke up. Bless him.

Sirius huffed. "You don't count. That's charity work."

"Hey, that's mean, Pads." Remus defended you.

You felt slapped in the face. Though thankful that Remus denied it, your eyes started watering at the fact that James didn't and you sat down on the stairs. A deep frown settled between your eyebrows and a hurt expression in your eyes. You should've turned around, but couldn't help but continue to listen in on their conversation.

"Alright, fine, I was just joking, Moony." Sirius held up his hands in surrender. "But you guys have to admit that she's super clingy," he added.

Even Remus couldn't deny that. You had been clinging to James, or trying to at least, ever since he abruptly started avoiding you for whatever reason you didn't know.

James hummed a little in agreement, choosing his words carefully. "Yeah, she's kind of high maintenance. Like, she needs a lot of attention, I guess. I mean, I've tried to subtly let her know that she's clingy, but she's not really getting the hint." Maybe not that carefully after all.

Your mouth was agape.

"Still my girlfriend though Padfoot, and I'm in love with her, so shut it," he gave Sirius a pointed look and with that, the matter was done for them. For you, very much not the case.

You swallowed, not comforted by his last words at all. Your throat felt dry and you hurried back to your room.

At first James was relieved by your lack of approaching him. It meant he didn't have to feel like crap every time he excused himself. But then time passed and James was missing you. 'How do you even miss your girlfriend, who you spend 24/7 with by being in the same boarding school?' He incredulously thought to himself.

But somehow you had managed to escape his sight. Aside from during class, in which you were partnered up with a scrawny Ravenclaw boy who excelled in potions class, called Wylan, as he had heard from Peter, he never saw you anywhere else. Not in the corridors, not in the Great Hall, not in the courtyard, not even in the library at your usual spot.

"Y/N!" He called out to you when he finally did spot you. You didn't seem to hear him and he moved faster. He slipped past a group of slow paced students who were taking up the entire corridor by walking next to each other- 'bloody hell' -and stopped in front of you, blocking your path.

You looked up at him in surprise. A weird feeling in your stomach. Maybe a mixture of adoration and discomfort at the same time. You hadn't decided what you wanted to do with the information from James' conversation because you didn't want to lose James, but also felt hurt. So you decided to just... postpone a confrontation.

"It's uh, it's been a while," he weakly smiled at you. You hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, I've been really busy." You mustered up a smile.

James nodded. 'Everything was fine. You were busy. That's all.' He tried to tell himself. But your eyes didn't crinkle like they did when you actually smiled. Your smile not wide enough to get you to wince at the pulling feeling of the small crust on your lower lip where you always bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. "I thought we could maybe go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" He offered you a lopsided grin and watched your expression turn apologetic.

"I- I've got plans, sorry," you whispered.

"Oh, right." James had a funny feeling in his stomach. What plans? With who? You didn't have other friends right? Or maybe you made some because he'd been ignoring you? His mind was racing.

"Monday?" He tried again.

He watched, a pit in his stomach forming when you shook your head hesitantly. "Tutoring third years," you said, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"O- Okay, you let me know when you have time alright?" He finally settled on.

"Yeah, sure." The lack of enthusiasm in your answer didn't go unnoticed by James.

It was quiet for a long moment. "So I should just-" you pointed with your thumb behind you, signaling that you were going to go.

"Yeah, of course, places to be," he awkwardly put his thumb up and internally screamed at himself. 'Thumbs up? Really?'

He watched you leave, shoulders slumped.

Preview if interested

[berrieluv]

the sweetest dream

pairing || Miguel O’Hara x f!Reader

word count || 1.5k

summary || Miguel comes home to find you sleeping peacefully on the couch. He can’t help himself. 

content || SMUT, somnophilia, oral (miguel eats that 🐱 while ur sleeping), rough needy sex, creampie, Miguel is pussy whipped!!!

a/n || saw ATSV twice just for this man

Miguel Masterlist  |  Masterlist 

It’s late when Miguel finally walks through the front door - later than usual. Nothing quite went to plan today. A series of fuck ups left him scouring an alien world for an anomaly that should have been a quick and easy grab. Hours later, he stalks into his apartment with leftover adrenaline still boiling just beneath the surface. The sight of you sprawled out on the couch is the only thing that keeps him from slamming the door behind him.

You must have fallen asleep trying to wait up for him. It eases some of that tension that still plagues him. A sigh heaves through him as he drinks in the image you make. It would make him smile if he wasn’t still so tense. You look so peaceful and soft, only wearing a tank top and panties that leave so much bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. He missed you. All day, throughout all of the bullshit, all he could do was think about how much easier it would be if you were by his side. His partner in all things.

Keep reading

[berrieluv]

PLSPLSPLSSSSS WRITE SMTH WHERE MIGUEL LIKE FUCKS THE READER FOR SO LONG BECAUSE ITS SO WARM INSIDE AND HE DOESNT WANT TO PULL OUT SO WHEN HES DONE HE JUST LIKE WALKS AROUND WITH READERS LEGS WRAPPED AROUND HIS WAIST WHILE THEYRE PRACTICALLY SOMEHOW ASLEEP IN HIS ARMS AS HE DOES WHATEVER STILL BURIED DEEP INSIDE THEM

IM LITERALLY GOING FERAL OVER THE IDEA IDK WHY JUST PLSSS

OMFG—

the way miguel wouldn’t let you leave. like his arms would be wrapped around you, keeping you connected at the hips, your legs staying spread around his snatched waist. he would have just been thrusting into you muttering praises into your neck.

and when you both lay panting, you’d expect him to slip out of you. but no. It’s just so warm inside you. so much so that miguel doesn’t want to miss the feeling. so he stays buried deep inside your tight little hole, as you’d shakily speak “m-miguel…”

then he’d be picking you up, your hole still sensitive and overstimulated, as you’d be forced to stay attached to miguel. because he was sure as hell not leaving your sweet, pretty little pussy until he saw fit. “shh…that’s it, y/n…just stay hugging my cock like t-that….uh huh…you feel too good to leave, cariño…” he’d be grabbing your chin and kissing you, somehow still balanced in the vertical position—ur legs shaking.

“you’re so pretty f’me…” miguel would mutter once you’d be there to “sleep”. but now you were turned on again, having had him buried inside you for so long you wanted him to move. but when you’d try, miguel would hold your hips, head now resting in your shoulder as he’d mutter “no, no…mi amor…let me just stay inside you…feel so good like this…i like you cockwarming me to sleep…my pretty girl huh?…letting me stay like this…mm”

[berrieluv]

I'm absolutely DYING over SteveEddieReader. I'm positively BEGGING you for more. I typically don't read fem reader things as I tend to lean more masc but FUCK your series with them is just so damn good 😫 they fit together so well

18+

“Oh my god— ohmygod, Steve…”

Back arching, you cried out, grabbing at the boy’s hair, pulling him closer between your thighs. He let out a muffled moan, a dirty sounding thing as his tongue licked a line up your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit to suck meanly.

Big hands kept your legs open, fingers pushing into the plush of your thighs as he kept his mouth on you, kissing sweet around your folds, nuzzling into the slick of your pussy, nose bumping your clit as he pushed his tongue further into you. It was all too much already, the heat in Steve’s bedroom rivalling the summer evening outside, the pink-orange glow of his bedside lamp showing off the way your body squirmed.

“Shit, honey,” Steve groaned, kissing at your thigh before sliding one finger - two fingers - inside of you. “No idea how good you taste, huh? So fuckin’ sweet—“

“Yeah?” Another voice interrupted, a second set of hands pulling at an ankle, spreading you wider. “If you quit bein’ so greedy, maybe I’ll find out.”

Steve scowled as Eddie shoulder his way beside him, between the bracket of your legs. He grinned up at you when you let out a laugh, still out of breath and shaking from the way Steve’s fingers were curling inside you.

“Wait your turn, man,” Steve snipped back, leaving another kiss on your knee as he pushed his fingers deeper, searching for his favourite spot. You let out a sharp gasp, head tipping back and the boy smirked. “Our girl’s having too much fun.”

Eddie ignored him, leaning in anyway to press kisses inside your thigh, humming when his tongue ghosted over where Steve’s fingers were. You sucked in a breath, eyes closed tightly, waiting for the next sensation.

“Yeah, honey?” Steve cooed, pushing at your knee, ordering you to spread yourself obscenely for the two of them. “You like that?”

You pulled at his hair in answer, your free hand searching blindly for Eddie until he got the hint and let you tangle your fingers in his curls too. He swore when you tugged, hips lifting up off Steve’s comforter in search of lips and tongues.

“More, sweetheart?” Eddie tutted. “She’s so greedy, huh?” He wasn’t even talking to you, ‘cause he was looking at Steve and smiling, a stupid amount of affection in his eyes despite their previous bickering.

“She wants us both?” Steve asked softly, sliding his digits out of you, only to use his thumb to spread your folds open for both of them. You nodded, feeling a little wild with the anticipation of it all. “Yeah? Wanna say please for us?”

You made a strangled noise, a soft, pretty sounding thing that Eddie cooed at. “Please,” you begged, squirming a little on the bed until Steve squeezed your thigh in warning.

“Such a good girl,” Eddie praised and you didn’t have a chance to respond before he ducked his head and dragged his tongue over your clit, a soft, kitten lick that made you cry out.

Steve did the same, his forehead pressed to Eddie’s as he licked over the entrance of your cunt, tongue pushing through your folds to taste you, groaning filthy when his tongue met Eddie’s.

It was dizzying the feeling of both of them between your legs, the feel of two mouth, two tongues. And fuck, if it wasn’t the hottest thing when you felt them pull away from you for just a second, only to hear their lips meeting for a kiss with the taste of you on both their tongues.

[berrieluv]

starved | [miguel o'hara x reader]

❛ pairing | new papi!miguel x new mami!reader

❛ type | oneshot: explicit content

❛ summary | peter says he's sex-starved. he isn't. he's just... adjusting to less time with his wife.

❛ tags | breastfeeding miguel, lactation kink, slight pregnancy kink, touch starved, pissy miguel, spanish is not translated, mention of violence, some cursing, f!reader.

❛ sy’s notes | written as per poll request! thank you everyone who voted.

Miguel likes to work.

Or, he thinks he likes to work.

The fate of the multiverse and all that boring ass bullshit. Peter has heard it all, twice, thrice over. What he knows is what he sees. What he sees is an overworked man running through anomaly files, sending out orders, and not spending time where it really mattered.

“Is that who I think it is?” Peter’s annoying ass house slippers flapped over the ground by Miguel’s feet. Peter’s hands rubbed together, sparking little bursts of heat between his palms. “It is! Mireya!”

Mireya, the newest addition to his small family. She was nestled comfortably in the crook of one of Miguel’s muscular arms as if it were the safest place in the entire world, suckling on what was left of a bottle of breastmilk. Miguel turned to place the empty bottle down on his desk. Peter followed, peeping over Miguel’s arm at her. Despite Miguel’s reservations, her bright brown eyes bored Peter with interest. She cooed at him. “Can I hold her? Let me hold her, it’ll be great! Aw look, she has curls.”

“My daughter isn’t your doll.”

“Look how pretty, she’s just like her mami. All sunshine and dimples and--,” Peter reached forward, easing his scrawny hands under her plush little arms and picking her up. Miguel’s hands fell onto his hips, shifting weight from one foot to the other, glancing down at his feet expectantly. “You know, for a new dad, you’re grumpier than usual.”

“Peter.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he bobbed back and forth, spinning in a circle. She giggled the kind of laugh that was all sugar, making Peter grin even harder. “I mean, wasn’t Mireya your idea? Are you-- y’know?”

“Y’know?”

“Sex starved,” Peter whispered like it was a great, terrible secret. As if in this vast space of silence, someone might catch his words and convict him because of them. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes slid against one another, held for a second, then spread open in an annoyed flick. He fluttered his gloved fingers at Peter to hand Mireya over.

“I’m just saying if you need a night alo--”

“I don’t. I’m not sex-starved.”

He waved him off. His eyes fell on his daughter, boring back up at him with those beautiful eyes he had waited so long to see. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, lulling her back into her late-night slumber, cradled against his chest.

Sex starved, he said. What a shocking joke.

His room was no place for a child. It was perpetually dark, dimmed for his sensitive eyes. So, at the end of the day, Miguel had your room to return to. A real home, one with more than a ratty run-down chair and a lifetime of regrets. A home that he couldn't make alone. Miguel pressed past the bedroom door where he found you overcome by sleep. Just like Mireya in his arms.

He turned his gaze down to Mireya once more, her soft and squishy body a vision of peace. Tiny fists balled up over her belly as she slept in her soft velvet onesie. The whole world in his hands: the start of a happy little family. Only right now, it didn’t feel so happy. Those were the cycles, the push and pull of life.

Tonight would prove to be another silent night with his thoughts. His chest swelled with a rush of air, bunching up his shoulders as he moved to the adjoining room to set Mireya into her warm crib. Torn from his warmth, her palms stretched out, ready to wail. Miguel placed his hand along the wooden rail, his stomach flopping into throbbing anxiety in his stomach. She could wake you up. "Shh," he set his finger in her tiny palm. Mireya’s small hands rested listlessly around her head. The wail never came.

“Mi vida,” your sleepy voice fell over his ears, a gentle caress. He longed to hear it from your lips again. “Is she already asleep?”

“Sí--” he glanced over his shoulder, catching just a sight of one of his favourite little slips. Dusty rose with delicate lace details. He studied the edge of the gown, flowing over your thick thighs as you walked. Shock.

“You look beautiful." You looked down at your soft belly, a mincing smile pulling at your lips. He knew you were nervous, the way your hands obscured your plush belly. Mesmerized, his finger fell away from Mireya's soft grip. Peter's words echoed in his mind, a deep annoyance. It made his skin crawl, this growing annoyance in the acknowledgment that he had no sex in weeks, months. He took a step forward.

“I hope she doesn’t sleep through the night. My breasts are full,” Your fingers skimmed the taut skin. The glint of your wedding band invited him forward as if… you should be his tonight. You were his wife-- and though he didn't expect you to give him relief, he missed you. Miguel dipped his head, stroking the sore muscles of his neck.

Are you, y'know, sex-starved?

“When does she ever..." he couldn't help from saying. He grazed his fingertips over the swollen skin of your breasts, glancing from the skin to your deep, shy eyes. His breath thinned, realizing that you were disengaging, too scared to look him in the eye.

“She does, Miggy,” you breathed. His jaw worked, annoyed. “Lately. You’d know if you came home at night.”

If it was lately, he had no knowledge of it. Every lab screen he pulled up, every status report from Lyla, and every silent night in the lab, obsessing over how his little girl was doing-- he missed it. He should be coming in more often, crossing the threshold of work to family life. His hand cupped the underside of your breast. You winced, embarrassment working on your face. You pushed his hand away, likely feeling exposed by his touch on your tender skin.

“Does it hurt?” He leaned down, mingling his smoky, musky scent with your delicate one. He leaned in to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss along your neck, the warm pulse of your skin against his plump lips.

“Miggy, you’ll wake her up.”

Your fingers laced in his before you pulled him out of the room with a click of the door. He settled his hand on the middle of the door, sliding his hand up your waist, the soft fabric crinkling over the movement. He glimpsed a look at your soft panties cupping your round ass. “Miggy, I… I can’t. I’m tired.”

Of course, you were tired-- He underestimated how much work you took on in her care. He willed the wisps of his desire to snuff out. The distant flicker of hope followed promptly after. Maybe, one day, you would want him again. It wasn't today.

“Ya veo,” he suppressed his frustrated growl, wrinkling his forehead. “Another time.”

It wasn't the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

The anomaly whirled along a cobblestone street, exploding in a cloud of dust and stone. Its many black dipped hands flickered, dulling into little more than a negligible tremor of their limbs. Everyone else noticed the complacency that came with loss of consciousness. Miguel did not.

Miguel sauntered forward, dragged it by its muddy boots out from the crumbly remnants of the wall, and whirled it into another. It wasn't moving. It was done, tired, exhausted. He didn't care, his large hand encompassing its tendril hair and smashing it over the dusty floor. A violent crack, crack, crack of its head scratched his inert need to destroy something, anything, anyone. It fell from his hands with a slump. Miguel spat a bit of blood to the side, his cheek chewed raw under the tension of the moment.

“You need to take Peter up on that offer.”

Miguel stretched his neck one way. Then the other.

“We’ve been over this,” Miguel grumbled, hiking the pummeled body over his shoulder. It gushed blood, streaming into a diluted pink with the downpour of rain. A simple contusion, Miguel said. It was just a contusion. And a concussion. Maybe a gash or two. It would heal if the thing woke up. “I don’t need help.”

“You thrashed it, whatever it was,” Jess said pointedly. Miguel’s finger ran across his watch. The air was stale without an acknowledgment of Miguel’s churning temper, growing into a churning tempest by the passing minute. He stared long and hard through his mask. She drew out the silence as she waited for his response.

“It’s a contusion.”

The portal whirled to life before them in a slurry of vivid color, an unforgiving abyss. Jess slumped her bike with weight on one thigh, hand on her belly. The longer Miguel stared at her, so full and pregnant, the more he was reminded of you. He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no use-- he saw visages of you everywhere he looked.

“Doesn’t look like any head contusion I’ve seen,” Gwen slid into the portal. His lip curled, annoyed by the obvious objection to what he was saying. If they would let it go-- he could go on about his life, wait for this obsession with his sex life to abate. Wait for you to come back to him.

“You can’t keep taking out your—“

“I am not sex-starved!”

“Convincing.” Jess sped into the portal.

Miguel soothed the stress out of his forehead, opening and closing his palm, a current of energy coursing through his palms. They picked— and they picked— and they picked at him. At some point, he was bound to explode. He only hoped you wouldn't be in his way when it happened. He whipped the anomaly through the portal and followed after.

On the other side of the portal, there was Peter— again. Cooing with his hands on his daughter— again. His dark mask faded away, his suit wicking water off his frame. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he located you beside Jess and Gwen. You nudged its crumpled body with your shoe. He didn’t often feel ashamed of his actions. Usually, they were necessary. Something was wrong, your face pinched and curled in disgust. He felt the string of your disapproval pulling through his arms, a slight, incriminating tremor flickering through his finger. He willed it away.

“What did you do to this poor thing?” you turned to Jess, a click-click-click off your tongue. He’d hardly call it poor. “It’s overkill.”

“Girl, ask your husband,” Jess folded her arms, reclining on her bike.

“Mi Miggy?” you went to him. You leaned over, pecking his cheek with a terribly insulting kiss, tickling his jawline. He swallowed. Blinked. Then frowned and brushed off your fingers, finding the care misplaced. You could care for an anomaly but didn't care to ask him how he felt. What he needed. Your voice wilted that sunshine quality, dropping almost to a whisper. “¿Qué te pasa, Miggy?”

“Nothing.”

“Miguel--"

“I said nothing!” He knelt down, grasping its ankle and dragging it down the long, drab hall that stored a variety of anomalies. A line of blood soaked the floor, swerving after his rumbling steps. You took a step forward, snatching his wrist between your fingers. He whirled around, a tremble on his lips firmed out into an unforgiving glare. You let up the pressure on his wrist, allowing him to spin his hand free. “Déjame en paz! There is nothing shocking wrong!”

Mireya cried. So did you.

The admittance that Peter was right wasn’t one that Miguel was about to make openly.

Although he showed up that night, as you informally requested, the night proceeded awkwardly. There was no talk over dinner, not as he watched you feed his little girl, swaying by the window of the enormous city below. As you gazed into the sea of twinkling lights, Miguel came up behind you. His palms encompassed your slight shoulders, moist against your exposed shoulders. His naked chest grazed your back.

"Are you going to apologize?"

Why should he have to? If anyone listened to what he was saying-- he wouldn't be in this mess. Still, Miguel steeled his face. He placed a mincing kiss on the top of your head. His voice thinned out, barely a feather on his lips.

"I snapped."

"You did a lot more than that. You scared her."

You let him sit with his regret until you fell asleep. He debated returning to the lab or his room to try again tomorrow. But he knew his wife. You were attentive to everything that he did. You might take it as a sign of his disinterest. After minutes turned to hours, he breached the door and slid into your bed when he was sure you were asleep.

When his eyes coursed over your figure, he realized all he missed. It was too long since he felt the warmth of a real kiss. Not the brief pecks on his lips as he rushed out the door to help Jess or Gwen or any other number of spiders demanding his attention. He missed the warmth in your eyes, the way they turn into crescents with a happy smile or jaunty laugh. He longed for that sensation of your fingers combing through his hair, taking your time and curling his fluffy hair behind his ear, eyes trained on his alone in a sea of spiders. That… sensation of being the only one that you wanted.

Mireya was that for you now. He longed for it every time he came into the room, seeing you sway with his child in your arms, cradled against your breast, feeding her into a restful sleep. What he thought was a mere seed of jealousy turned out to be a terrible beast, tendrils of resentment that you can’t see what he needs. He needs you. And it isn’t his beautiful Mireya’s fault, no. It’s his.

Instead, he lay there with his palm wretched around his cock, soaked in the artificial lubricant, throbbing into his hand. He remembered his words that night. A begrudging -- Mami, give me a baby-- and how well you took him. Your body seemed to know what he wanted, swelling with his child after a few weeks. He buckled into his palm, cranking around the base and swirling up to his leaking tip, bubbling with his need. He circled his finger over the head, swiping the fluid away.

“What are you thinking about?”

Miguel paused, sweat crept down his thick throat over his broad chest. He shuddered under the weight of your silken words. His hand coiled around his cock in one more jerk, somehow accepting that he had been caught.

“Are you thinking about me? Or is there someone else?”

"Someone else?" he breathed. His lips dropped into a frown, agitation simmering to a boil. It cooled when you looked at him-- but really looked at him. The bed shifted under your weight, ruffling pillows aside. You hoisted your legs over his body, pushing his cock against your soft vulva and his stomach, breasts pushing into his face. So close that Miguel inhaled the uniquely sweet smell of your milk obscured by thin lace.

“Why would I have anyone else?” he asked, his chest distantly aching. His gaze tracked from one breast to the other. He stole a glimpse at your face, stricken with shyness. The slight pout of your lips, eyes refusing contact. “Do you even want me?”

Undoubtedly yes.

“You don’t come to see me. You don't fuck me. You don't even--"

"You're always tired."

"But you could wake me.”

“Could I? To deny me again?” It hadn’t meant to come out so passive-aggressive, but with the natural inflections in his voice, he knew you could read him like a book.

“Oh, papi," not that soft voice. He might hope again. "I always want you.“

Hmpf. Debatable.

“Even when you’re jerking off in my bed. Or couch.” You slid your pink tongue along your lower lip, guiding your body against his. The wet draw of your juices over his dick drew his sharp scarlet eyes to the sight, knocking your stiff clit with his dick. For a moment, his words failed. He should have known you would watch him.

“Is that why you're so... angry? Because of me?" He made a small noise, barely a huff. You drew his hands to your full breasts, obscured by a thin layer of fabric. This time, he smothered a groan in his chest. How pathetic, he thought, to be moaning from something as simple as your firm breasts back in his hands. What was he-- twelve? "Have I been neglecting you, Miguel O’Hara?”

“Yes-- you've neglected me,” he murmured, dragging the lace underneath each breast, knocked together by the straps of the fabric. He melded your breasts again between his hands, massaging the sore skin. His thumps flickered over your nipples, stiffening them into peaks. With a small pinch to your breasts, milk dribbled over his fingertips.

"I won't do it again," he wondered if you missed his touch by the full, grateful hum of your lips, your palms disappearing into his dark hair. You coursed along his dick again, eliciting another piteous noise of longing from his throat. "I promise."

“Hm," was the only agreement. "What a mess,” he teased, not bothering to look at you. It had the desired effect, your shoulders shyly bunching up, the cute pout of your lips, warmth in your cheeks, quivering eyes. He loved it when you looked so fucking shy, so vulnerable, and all for him. "You're leaking all over my hand."

“I’m-- sorry,” you flushed, “It… happens.”

“Mhm, you're full,” Miguel flicked his pink tongue along your stiff, fat nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a suckle. Sweet milk soothed his tongue. He hungrily drank it up, shifting his other hand back to angle his cock at the entrance of your core. A hand left his thick locks and jerked to his broad shoulder, stabilizing your hips down to sink onto him. Blood welled to the surface with your claws scratching piteously along his sunkissed skin. With a bit of resistance, he slid perfectly into your body, just like he always did. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips against your breast. It was somehow different-- the tug and stretch of his cock-- as he fucked the mother of his child. Maybe it was all in his head. “Shock, you’re gorgeous on my dick.”

“Miggy--”

He shifted to the other breast, his hands nearly stapled on your hips, encouraging you to do the work. Your warm milk slid into his mouth, down his starved throat. The pleasure of knowing he was draining you of your milk was tempered with the ever-present fact that soon, you’d have his spunk in your belly again. Your hips flushed, drawing around in quick circles, flushed with his pelvis. Small waves of pleasure grew in your belly. Your stiff clit glided against his skin, again, and again with the undulations of his hips. You felt pinned between his mouth and dick, restricted in movement, but all his, devoured by his need.

“Come here, mi hermosura,” Miguel released your breast from those lush lips, sliding his tongue along his lips to catch the remnants of your sweet milk. He slid down along the pillows, flushing your chest to his, and propped his legs slightly for a better angle. His muscular arms wound around your back, cock pumping into you with renewed vigor. He knocked against your cervix in this position, holding you fast and tight in his arms. You nestled against his sweaty chest, accepting his thrusts so well.

“Miggy-- I’m not-- on anything.”

“You're breastfeeding, close enough,” he mused in your ear as though it were a joke.

You might have argued with him if you weren’t so blinded by that fantastic juddering of his hips. As it were, pleasure rocked all thoughts of birth control out of your mind. Miggy, an ever-present lover, groaned as he held out through your orgasm milking and soaking his swollen dick in your cum. Not a moment later, Miguel forced a long stroke of his dick inside your cunt, reaching his climax buried deep in your tremoring walls. You squeezed him tight, milking him dry of his orgasm until it all faded into fuzzy pleasure. You sighed as his arms loosened, warm and full of Miguel after so long. His soft dick slipped free, cum oozing onto his thighs, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess.

He set a kiss on the top of your head, then your forehead, and eventually snatched your lips in a warm kiss. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue and flushed. Your head dropped down on his chest, listening for the gentle whining of your daughter. It was silent but for the intermingling of your heaving breaths.

After all the issues: the disappointment, the fighting with Peter and Jess, Miguel couldn’t help but chuckle. All it took was jerking off in your bed. He should have known-- you never did like to be left out on his fun. You were always a jealous lover, even at the threat of his own hand.

“Hm? Why are you laughing?”

“Peter said I was sex-starved."

“Well," you glistened a smile, kissing along his jaw. He huffed. "He wasn't wrong."

[berrieluv]

dilf!miguel

who can’t stop the perverted scenario’s from flooding his mind. seeing you take care such good care of his child while being oblivious to the feeling of being stuffed with his children.

you can’t even remember how you got into this predicament.

“shh, he’s still sleeping.” miguel’s index finger brushed against his lips as he slammed into you. he was fucking you so good, it was too hard to muffle your sweet moans. “t-trying mig!” your hands wrapped around his wrist while bitting onto your lower lip in hopes of silencing your moans. looking up at him through wet lashes as his dick bullied your pretty pussy, stuffing you full of his length which created a small bulge within your tummy.“m-mig.” you whined, you were so close to breaking. his length dragged alongside your walls perfectly, kissing that sensitive spot within your core as you instantly clamped down onto him.

“mmphhm!” your moans muffled against the palm of his hand. “i know baby, i know.” miguel cooed, fucking you through your orgasm as you sobbed in pleasure underneath him. your insides twisting together as he continued to rut into your abused cunt, aching for the next climax.

“you’re doing so good f’me.” he praised watching your eyes roll to the back of your head as the sluttiest whine escaped your throat. thrusts speeding up, hitting every sweet spot as his dick twitched inside of you, “shitt, g’cum!” he grunted, feeling his orgasm approach as your eyes screwed together— feeling pleasure once again build within your core. panting against the palm of his hand as his hips jerked before shooting his warm load deep inside you.

“such a good girl.”

[berrieluv]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷

[berrieluv]

Stress Relief

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Breastfeeding as stress relief. Needy Miguel. Inspired by this ask. Thank you to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish!

You shot a string of web as high as possible so you could reach the platform.

Landing gracefully on both feet, you came across a visibly distressed Miguel who was frowning as he dragged a few screens in front of him from side to side.

“No signs of this new anomaly?”

His silence answered your question, and you reached out to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“You’re way too stressed out,” you mumbled lovingly.

He placed both arms on the board, heaving a deep sigh. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. How can I help?”

Miguel side-eyed you and his gaze dropped to your chest.

Oh.

Oh.

“Here?”

He turned to fully face you, and you watched as his face softened into a silent plea.

“Miguel…”

He grabbed your hand and placed a single kiss on the tip of his finger never tearing his eyes from yours. A shiver ran down your spine at the absolute sweetness of it. He then brought your hand to rest on his neck.

“Por favor…,” he whispered. “I know you love to feel me drinking it.”

Touché.

Your fingers squeezed lightly around his throat, feeling his pulse quicken. He knew exactly how to persuade you and it made your heart clench in anticipation.

His other hand started to tug at your tight suit that parted at your waist, lifting it high enough to reveal a breast full of milk.

“Just be quick…” you nodded.

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice and you promptly felt to large hands prop you up to seat on the board, immediately capturing the hardened nipple in between his teeth before latching completely.

Your mouth dropped open at once from the sudden stimulus, and you felt him effectively drawing milk into his mouth.

“Fuck…” you blurted out, eyes fluttering shut.

In no time, you began to feel his Adam’s apple wobble with each gulp. He had settled between your legs and in perfect reach for you to stroke him through his suit. He welcomed it by increasing the suction with a low grunt that rumbled through his throat and under your palm.

“Does this really help?” you asked teasingly.

He merely hummed, pressing his hardening cock further into the palm of your hand.

Well, there was the answer.

A single droplet of milk pooled at the corner of his mouth, and you watched in marvel as it slowly dripped down, leaving a wet trail on his skin.

His hips bucked instinctively into your touch and you rubbed your thumb in circles on his neck, urging him to keep swallowing.

Needy and impatient Miguel was your weakness. He could make you cum just from this alone if he focused enough on it and added some attention to your clit.

He moaned softly, but never breaking the latch.

“You’re doing so well,” you praised and his cock twitched instantly.

You faintly heard something in the distance, but figured the sound was coming from the moving screens.

Until…

“Yo, Miguel!”

Peter B. Parker was suddenly standing close to you, bearing a silly smile of affection.

Chaos ensued instantly.

You pushed Miguel away abruptly and dropped on your feet, adjusting your suit, knowing fully well a wet spot would now show through the fabric.

Miguel had turned feral, baring his milk-coated fangs at Peter, who proceeded acted as if he wasn’t about to be buried six feet under.

“Get out!”

“Woah!” he raised both hands defensively with a carefree chuckle. “Was just checking on my favourite couple. And I—”

“Peter…” you cut him off, widening your eyes at him as a warning.

He instead arched an eyebrow, eyes fixed on Miguel’s face. “What’s that on your face? Coconut milk?”

Oh no…

Miguel had a few droplets running down his chin from the corner of his mouth, which he tried to wipe as fast as possible, but the damage was done.

“Whipped cream?” he tried again, blissfully unaware.

You immediately got in between the two of them as Miguel looked positively ready to pounce, the outline of his strained erection visible.

“Peter!”

“VETE DE AQUÍ, IDIOTA!”

Oh, it was never a good sign when Miguel started using Spanish.

“Miguel, don’t!” you tried to calm him down as Peter glared at him like he had grown a third arm.

“What?”

“MALDITO SEAS! Vete a la verga!” he continued his rant, flashing his fangs once again.

Peter’s eyes suddenly widened as understanding splattered across his face. “Oh.”

“Peter, please leave…” you begged.

“Oh… huh… sure… I-I… yeah…” he stuttered as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “It was nice seeing you both… huh… keep that hydration up, Miguel,” he laughed nervously, giving you both a thumbs up.

Before Miguel could lurch forward to get a hold of Peter, he had quickly slipped off of the platform and towards the exist, leaving a whispering breeze behind.

“Let me kill him,” Miguel growled, adjusting his pretty much flaccid cock. “Please.”

Masterlist

[berrieluv]

imagine one night reader can’t sleep and Miguel sees it so he fucks her rough so she can feel better.

mdni, nsfw below, requests open

Miguel O'hara who stirs awake from your movement, how you let out whines and flip from your left to your right side, trying to sleep on your back but yet, you just can't sleep.

Miguel O'hara who presses you into the bed, holding you down by placing a hand on your back. If you can't exhaust yourself, he'll do it for you. So why not dick you down until you're practically passing out on his cock.

Miguel O'hara who starts off rough too, cock dragging against your tight walls as you mewl and moan, face buried in your pillow as your hands hold at the edges, squeezing down. Your noises muffle into the pillow as he pounds you from behind, legs sometimes kicking up.

Miguel O'hara who'll fuck many orgasms out of you, stuffing you full, watching how your eyes flutter. He'll watch at how overstimulated you get, how your body starts to get tired.

And when he's finally exhausted you enough, he'll lay you on your side, back pressing against his chest. Miguel who'll keep his cock stuffed inside of you, holding your breasts gently as you drift off to sleep with him inside.

[berrieluv]

Ok I absolutely love the way you write-

Imagine you decide to go back to school but like online classes and Miguel would have you cock warming him. And immediately after you hit that ‘end zoom’ or ‘leave classroom video’ he’s absolutely plowing into you like a animal in heat-

I cant do this anymore— thank you so much, my love <3 also this became a little longer than planned—whoops

18+ smut cock warming; dumbification kink?? unedited blurb below

your lips are pressed tightly together, as you pretend to nod along to what the teacher is saying. something about the economy? you aren’t sure because all you can focus on is miguel’s cock buried deep inside you.

your breathing is stuttering as you try not to move your hips. god, you just wanted to move. either up and down or completely off. because cock warming him like this was too much for your poor brain to train into the lesson on your computer.

you were on miguel’s thighs, the angle of the computer cutting him off, so all appeared innocent. miguel’s mouth was twitching in a snarl to move, because god did he want to just fuck you silly.

your warm little hole kept clenching around him, making his grip on your hips tighten to the point of claw marks. “come on…cariño…let me move…I need to fucking move.” his low desperate tone was right by your ear.

“I-I have to focus.” you blink a few times too many, praying the teacher won’t ask you a question.

“I cant���dios…i cant.” miguel’s hips had begun to try and move up into you. but with your weight atop of him you managed to not reciprocate. “I need to fuck you, y/n.”

then finally you can see the lesson wrapping up, as other collage students dropped off the line. and as your hand shifted to tap the ‘end call’ button, miguel’s grip tightened.

“stay fucking still now...” miguel growled out as he thrusted up into your dripping cunt, making a small mewl escape you.

“yeah…that’s it…gonna fuck this pretty little hole that you’ve kept me from feeling…sliding up and down my cock—carajo.” his thrusts are animalistic and feverish, as groans leave him, his hands spreading your thighs further apart as his claws dig into your flesh. his hips movements are making you slightly bounce up and down on his dick.

“you have no idea what that just did to me…” his words are harsh, as he kept you at his mercy. “hours…of being in your pussy and I couldn’t even move…that’s not gonna happen again.”

obscene sounds are filling the room, as your hips meet his—still on his lap. his teeth are by your ear as he nips at the skin. “no…next time if I want to be inside you—moving—I will be…and I don’t care if you need to focus, cariño…you just gotta be good and let me move you along my cock…”

“it’s study…I…I have to pay attention.” you manage as your legs shake.

“that’s okay…” he coos. “you can be my dumb little slut…actually I’d like that…” he’s breathing harder as his cock twitches. “you can stay my dumb little pet, whose pretty head is filled with me and only me as you let me feel this hole for as long…as I please.”

[berrieluv]

james doesn't know. oral sex (fem receiving), cheating? idk. public sex too.

For Remus and the rest of the Marauders; James was untouchable. The boy has done too much for them to ever go against his wishes. And that was the reason why Remus hanged out with James annoying girlfriend without a word.

Except for maybe the times he snapped against you. But James laughed about it, it seemed playful enough for him or the rest to let it slip. And for James, Remus would do anything. Absolutely anything.

Remus could never face James, and he was a complete goner for his girlfriend, so Remus had no option but to bare her.

James and Remus were animately chatting on the common room when you arrived, Remus rolled his eyes at the sight of you and you frowned in annoyance. James, your sweet and loving boyfriend smiled, dragging you to his lap and kissing your lips deeply as you were getting comfortable.

James then keeps his talk with Remus, smiling occasionally, a few seconds later his hand makes its way through your thighs, his finger circling the fabric of your underwear over your clit, pulling out a moan out of you as you tried to hide on his neck.

"So, as I was telling you, James..." Remus continued as James made his way to your pussy with his fingers.

"Remus" James called, taking you by surprise and spreading your legs on his lap, "Taste it"

"What?"

"What?"

Both of you asked incredulous at the same time, James smirked in response and kissed you for a few seconds.

"Maybe that's what you need to stop being... so defensive with each other" James' fingers caresses your folds as he smirks at Remus. "Come on, don't you get all shy on me now" He chuckles.

Remus breaths are heavy but he kneels in front of you, crawling to your pussy, his hot breath against your flesh while he looked at your pussy as a starved wolf.

James hands hold your legs open as Remus' tongue finally finds its place inside your cunt.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" James asks Remus, he is clamped tight between you, Remus moved his tongue as a starved, possessed man, he didn't think he would enjoy this as much. Hell, he didn't even think he wanted to do this.

"Do you like it, baby?" James asked you with a soft smile and leaned down to kiss you. Your moans were silent against his lips and you were fucking lucky no one tried to enter or walk through the common room because you don't think you'll find the strength to put Remus away.

Remus suctioned your clit when his fingers found their way inside of you. You were completely wet and Remus used his lips as a straw in your cunt. Your walls were clenching around his fingers.

When you orgasmed in his mouth, it yet wasn't enough for Remus to stop, James put a hand on your abdomen to hold you tight against him, trying to keep you still on his lap.

"So?" James asked when Remus pulled away "Are you gonna keep hating each other?"

[berrieluv]

Intimacy

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’hara x spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+. Lactation kink. Fangs. Implied breeding kink. A comprehensive study on intimacy with Miguel O’hara.

“She’s finally sound asleep.”

Holding back a yawn as you entered the living room, you were promptly met with a very heavy-eyed Miguel O’hara on the couch, enjoying the comforts of home.

“Thank you,” he said truthfully, straightening up lightly in his seat. “Come here.”

You paced towards him, lazily settling on his lap, both legs framing his as two big and warm hands sprawled across your back, pulling you into an embrace.

Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut once cheek came to rest on his shoulder, taking in his body warmth and enjoying the steady heartbeat that drummed against your chest.

You figured you might just fall asleep and don’t fight against it. Taking care of a baby had been taking a toll on you both as of late, but it was to be expected.

Still, you missed moments like this. No talking, just feeling right at home in a silent embrace.

Miguel planted a few kisses to the back of your neck, but they were void of any sexual bearing. You knew what he meant with those. Absolute gratitude and devotion.

“Next time, I’ll put her to sleep,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hmm.”

His hands glided along your back, fingertips applying just enough pressure to raise goosebumps across your skin.

“I mean it.”

“You’re also tired,” you drawled out with a yawn, body slumping fully into him. “Work and all that…”

Another tender kiss. “But I have responsibilities here, too.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“You taught me how.”

Point taken.

Silent seconds ticked by and you shifted on his lap into a more comfortable position, ready to enter the valley of dreams.

“I miss you,” he said all of a sudden.

His hands settled on your arms to straighten you, a pair of red eyes encasing yours.

“I miss us.”

Miguel wasn’t a man to deliver empty words as filler, so you knew that he genuinely meant it, which had your heart to skip a beat.

His digital suit began to fragment and reced, exposing the skin underneath. Your placed your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex under your touch.

He was so handsome. Almost unfairly so.

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.

You nodded, bringing your lips to meet his in a lazy kiss as you dragged your fingers along his hair, earning a moan of approval.

It was a slow and steady kiss. You were in no hurry and wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity.

One of his hands slid to grope your breast and you felt him groan against you lips, breaking contact.

His half-hooded eyes were now on your chest, and as you followed his line of sight, you realised what had caught his attention.

Your shirt was getting soaked with milk.

Damn.

Two round damp spots spread across the fabric that covered each nipple, and you felt instant embarrassment take over. “Sorry… wanted to pump before putting her to bed, but she—”

“Don’t ever apologise for this,” he silenced you at once.

You tried to slide off the couch to fix yourself, but he kept you in place with both hands gripping your waist, pushing you down on him.

“Stay.”

Oh?

“I’ll help.”

Oh.

“Miguel…”

Masterful fingers worked their way down the buttons of your nightgown to reveal your heaving breasts.

You knew that look on his face.

Hunger.

“So full,” he said more to himself, cupping both of them softly.

A few droplets coated both nipples and he brushed the pad of his thumbs along the sensitive skin, earning a jerk from you.

The tingling between your legs emerged in full force from just the sight of him staring at you like he could devour you whole.

He craned his neck just enough to capture one nipple with his lips before latching hungrily.

The overwhelming sensation was enough to have you clinging to his broad shoulders for support. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped once you felt him sucking gently.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the growing pressure between your legs from his hardening cock.

“Be gentle,” you moaned, caressing his cheek that would rhythmically hollow as he downed your milk.

“Hmmm.”

Then your hand came to his neck and you gently gripped it, feeling his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp.

You stared adoringly at him, slowly grinding into his covered cock. A raw groan reverberated through his throat, and you could tear your eyes away from the sight of the warm liquid pooling in the corner of his mouth.

The latch was just perfect and felt too good.

You brought your hand to caress his face once more, brushing a few strands of his hair away.

“You’re so good…” you moaned.

His cock twitched at your praise, and you could feel the wetness damping his own underwear. Now he was the one leaking for you, his body full on auto-pilot as precum readied him for more.

A couple of droplets began to run down his chin, dripping and drenching his underwear.

“No fangs…”

You’d felt them grazing your skin lightly, but you couldn’t really blame Miguel. His fangs would emerge from either extreme anger or blinding pleasure. A roll from your hips with added pressure was enough to tear his lips from your nipple, head falling back and mouth parting with a raw moan.

He bared both sets of fangs as both hands gripped your waist. Your own mouth dropped open as haziness filled your vision, absolutely revelling in seeing your own milk dripping from his lips and down his muscular neck.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut.

You hurried to collect some of the beads of milk from his skin, but Miguel intercepted you midway, capturing you into a searing kiss. His tongue hurriedly slipped past your lips and you tasted sweetness.

Parting yourself from him, you focused on the grind of your hips and Miguel snapped open his crimson eyes, lust dilating his pupils.

“I’m not… I’m not…” he mumbled incoherently, too lost in his pleasure. “I’m not… lasting…”

You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you whispered seductively, pressing a quick kiss to the pulse point on his neck. “So much stamina…”

Miguel was a sucker for praise and it was the easiest and fasted way to get him to crumble.

Your clit rubbed against his covered cock in a steady rhythm as more droplets of milk kept dripping from your nipples. Your eyes roamed along his chest that was glistening as beads of white liquid streamed down.

Suddenly, Miguel pulled you into him, your breasts now squeezed in between you two, more liquid pouring out.

He titled your head and immediately latched his lips against your neck, fangs nearly puncturing the flushed skin.

“You ride me so good,” he murmured hungrily against you.

A moan tangled in your throat and your hips surged to encourage his, ruthlessly intensifying the pleasure. Miguel picked up the speed again and you felt each burst of bliss at every thrust and desperate to feel the next.

Your orgasm was upon you faster than you had expected, the sense of urgency in his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Miguel… Miguel…” you moaned, your panties completely drenched.

“Inside… please…”

Desperate fingers clawed at your underwear, sliding it to the side as the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. He slid inside effortlessly, bottoming up in an instant, and after a moment he gave a harsh cry and shoved himself so deeply and tightly against you that you gasped, clenching hard around him.

Miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck in a failed attempt to muffle his groans.

He kept grinding and rocking against you with stifled grunts, spurting hotly inside.

Only the sounds of your harsh breathing followed, and you sank against him weakly as if drained of all energy.

A familiar waile filled the room, making you wince.

“Shit… were we too loud?” you asked, trying to ease your breathing.

Miguel was still buried deep inside you, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I’ll go check on her.”

You could tell he reluctantly slid out, easing you on your back. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily, and you felt some of his warm cum spilling

“Keep it in,” he said, pressing your legs together as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

Masterlist

[berrieluv]

Can i just say how GOOD your aaron taylor-johnson fics are? Pure smut and they are chef's kiss. AMAZING. MASTERPIECES. Also I love the breeding kink, not the reader ending up pregnant and ATJ finally getting rid of his wife 😋

thank you!! you have no idea how much i enjoyed writing those

now that’s a good idea …