stevengrantnotrogers

[stevengrantnotrogers]

[stevengrantnotrogers]

As Luck Would Have It

A/N: HELLO IM BACK??? AND WITH PETER B. PARKER SMUT??? Crazy, wild. lol. After MONTHS of not writing anything, I give you this.

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Assassin!Reader

Summary: Your husband is Spider-Man. You're an assassin and he doesn't know. However, while it does complicate things, you try to keep him safe from your boss. Unfortunately, complications arise.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, oral (f receiving), biting, fingering, Peter has a Daddy Kink, very light choking, light angst

WC: 2.1K │ TAGLIST FORM │Marvel Sideblog: @stevengrantnotrogers

(Pics from pinterest)

The morning light pours into yours and Peter’s bedroom making you beat your first alarm of the day. You groan slightly into your pillow, prepared to get up and start your day. There’s a lot to do today since you have to run over to-

“Uh uh. Stay.” Your husband, Peter’s, warm hands pull you toward his even warmer frame, engulfing you. 

You lean back a little bit to give him a sleepy kiss with a chuckle. “Got too much to do, babe. I’m sorry.” 

“Nope. You don’t. I said so.” He grins into your neck, breathing you in.

“So clingy.” You playfully roll your eyes.

“Don’t forget about bossy.” He kisses your bare shoulder. 

“Ah, yeah. Definitely can’t forget that one.” You laugh. 

“How about I give you incentive to stay?” Peter whispers hotly against your ear. 

You can’t help but bite your lip. “What kind of incentive?”

“The kind where I make you cum 3 times on my face before I fuck you into this bed.” He bites your earlobe, his fingers already starting to trail dangerously low toward your panties. “Would that be okay?” 

“Y-yeah… Pete… I think that would be more than-” You start to agree before Peter’s other hand pulls your face toward his own and he slides his fingers down to tease your already wet folds. “Fuck…” 

He growls into the kiss. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me already. So needy, aren’t you?”

You nod, a little pathetically you might add, against his face as he starts to kiss you again. To anyone else, Peter seems so goofy and like he wouldn’t be a very dominant type. But he never ceases to surprise you. 

“Tell daddy how bad you want it.” He whispers against your lips, holding your throat softly. 

The moment you try to tell him how badly you need him, to be full of him, he slips a long slender finger into you and you can’t help the whine that escapes your lips. He smirks against your lips as he pulls his fingers out just to push them back in repeatedly until you’re begging for more.

“T-tongue…” You beg, breathlessly. 

He chuckles darkly. “That’s not how you ask for things, is it baby?” 

“P-please… Peter…” You grind down against his hand, begging for any sort of friction, needing that release.

He curls his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you and you buck against his hands sharply. 

“Please what?” He asks, clearly enjoying this way too much. 

You look up at him, eyes dark with lust for your husband. “Pl-please… use your tongue…” 

He chuckles and kisses your temple. “Good girl.”

Peter slides his finger out of you and moves down your body as you settle against the pillows. He slips your panties down your legs, tosses them to the floor, and then bites the inside of your thigh making your back arch up away from him. His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. 

He moans at the sight of your bare cunt and looks up at you, making eye contact as he starts to lick a long stripe up your folds.

“Fuck… Pete…” You whimper, your hand flying to his hair to anchor yourself to him. 

He groans against your warmth as your grip in his hair tightens. Unable to help it, you smirk down at him. He shoots you a wink and your whole body goes ablaze. 

After all this time together, you’re still incredibly hot for each other. After meeting in college and being married for almost 10 years, you truly can’t get enough of each other. He’s your best friend and you’re his. 

Peter’s tongue finds your clit and you grip his hair again, making him growl as he tightens his grip on your thighs so rough, you’re sure to bruise. 

“Fuck that’s so good.” You moan. 

Unfortunately, the sound of your phone ringing, specifically the tone that you have for your boss, starts to ring out into the room, immediately killing the mood. 

“God, he’s the fucking worst.” Peter groans into your thigh, resting his cheek against it, looking up at you.

You shrug, breathlessly. “I know, I know… I’m sorry…” 

You lean over toward your nightstand and pull your phone off the charger and answer your boss. 

“Hello?” 

“I need you here. Now.” His deep voice demands. 

You know you can’t say no. 

“On it.” You reply and he hangs up.

Peter lets go of you and moves back up toward his side of the bed. He still thinks you work in publishing, because if he knew the real you… he probably wouldn’t love you anymore. And you’ve been doing everything you possibly can to protect him from your boss. So far, you’ve been lucky.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss him on the cheek and get up, quickly getting dressed. 

“It’s okay. Let me know if you’ll be home for dinner and I’ll go pick us something up.” He gets up and comes to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, you know that?” You look up at him, smiling.

“Duh.” He winks.

You roll your eyes, smirking. He always seems to keep a good attitude about things when your boss makes you come in at all hours. Today, though, you thought you weren’t going to be needed. Biggest downside to being too good at your job, you suppose. 

You finish getting ready and then give Peter one more kiss and leave the house, getting on your motorcycle that Peter keeps begging you to sell so you guys can get a Prius (not happening). 

As you speed into the city, toward Fisk tower, traffic and the weather luckily seem to be on your side today and you make it there in record time. 

When you park your bike in front of the building, the doorman, Harold, greets you just like he does every morning. Despite working for such a morally questionable man, he and his wife are the sweetest people.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He smiles. 

“Hi, Harold. How’s Caroline?” You ask as you hold your helmet in one hand. 

“She’s good. She says hello and that you need to come by for dinner soon.” He playfully scolds you.

“If Fisk lets me have a day off, I promise to take you guys up on that.” You wink and walk into the building, toward the glass elevators, hitting the top button so that it takes you straight to Fisk himself.

You look out at the city, missing Peter already, just like you always do. You can’t stop thinking about the way he reacted when you pulled his hair. 

Ugh. Get it together. You know better than to think of Peter here. 

Before the golden elevator doors even open, you can hear Fisk shouting at someone on the phone. 

Great… 

The doors open and Fisk looks up at you. 

“Sir.” You nod. 

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?” He points at you.

You shake your head. “No, why?”

He shakes his own head, pacing back and forth.

“Osborn seems to think so. He’s lucky I haven’t had him taken care of yet…” 

You’re waiting for Fisk to get on with his point, hoping he’ll make it there soon. You know better than to interrupt him when he’s fuming like this. 

“He can’t get a grip… he’s becoming a loose end. Go threaten him. Make him shit his pants if you have to.”

The Green Goblin… that’s who he’s sending you up against. You’re an assassin… You’re not equipped to go up against that.

“Sir, I’m not-” You start to voice your concerns.

Fisk’s head shoots up, staring at you. “Take some of the guys with you if you have to. Believe it or not, Norman is sweet on you.”

Jesus… The way he says it, he almost seems amused.

“Right. Okay.” You nod and head down to the garage to rally up some of the guys, deciding to take two of the SUVs. 

“We’re going to pay Osborn a visit.” You tell Johnny, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. 

“Oh great…” Johnny whistles and rallies up 8 other guys.

You hop in the front passenger seat of Johnny’s SUV. It’s a quiet ride to Osborn’s apartment. You’re trying to figure out what you’re going to say to a man who seems like he’s on the verge of killing an entire city almost any chance he gets. 

The ride goes by quicker than you’d like and you hop out when Johnny pulls up to the front of Norman’s building. They all wait for your signal. 

“I’ll go in, try to talk him down. You guys be out in the hall ready to strike if you hear any signs of trouble.” You tell them. 

They all nod and you head up toward the top floor of Osborn’s, your gun is in the inside of your black leather jacket along with a few daggers. It’s usually all you need. But this… this makes you nervous. 

As you get to the door, you knock on the front door and find it's already open. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t be home. 

A crash comes from somewhere in the apartment. No, you didn’t think you’d be that lucky. The guys all raise their guns, ready.

“Norm?” You call out into the apartment. “You okay?”

You hear loud clattering and walk back to the source of it, finding Norman skittering around his lab, mumbling to himself angrily. 

“N-Norm?” You say, in the doorway, prepared to grab your gun if you need to.

Norman Osborn looks up at you. His demeanor relaxes when he sees you but his eyes stay angry. 

“Kingpin sent you to kill me, didn’t he?” He chuckles humorlessly. 

You shake your head. “Just to talk.”

The quick change in his face says that was the wrong thing to say and the hair on your neck stands. 

“DON’T LIE TO ME! HE WANTS TO TAKE CREDIT FOR MY WORK! MY WORK!” He screams at you. 

He starts to throw shit around, picking up a desk like it weighs nothing and sending it soaring into the window and down below. You hear a car alarm go off and you just know that one of the SUVs was hit. 

“Norm, please-” You start to cautiously approach him. “All you have to do is-”

“Don’t tell me what I have to do!” He shouts, turning green. 

You put your hands up in surrender, nodding. “Okay, okay.”

All you wanted was a relaxing day with Peter… that’s all you fucking wanted. 

Norman starts to throw more shit out the window and you start to think you’re going to need the backup when as luck would have it, a long white line flies in front of you toward Norman and you recognize it instantly as web fluid.

“Fuck me.” You whisper-shout as you get down, hiding behind the wall. 

You’ve done so good about not having any run-ins with your husband, AKA Spider-Man. Today really is not your lucky day. 

You try your best to scurry out, heading out to the street and around the back alley where the SUVs pull up and you quickly hop in the first one, finding Johnny in the driver’s seat.

“Fucking Spider-Man…” Johnny shakes his head as he drives.

“Let’s get out of here. We aren’t prepared to deal with Goblin and the Spider.” You tell him.

You look out the window as you head back to Fisk Tower, trying to figure out what you’re going to say or do. Fisk is not going to be happy. You failed… which means you’re going to suffer the consequences one way or another. 

Taking the elevator back up to your boss’ office on the top floor, the knot in your stomach twists and turns. You quickly shoot Peter a quick text to let him know you love him, just in case. Hopefully he sees it after he’s done dealing with Osborn. 

When the doors open, Fisk is already waiting with his arms crossed, in his seat at his desk. He really knows how to command a room with that glare of his.

“Sir, I-” You start. 

“Failed.” He states, finishing your sentence as he sees fit. No questions about it.

You nod. “There were… complications.”

“I know. Spider-Man showed up.” He stares at you.

Shit. 

“Take care of him.” 

“Sir?” 

He stands up. “Kill the Spider-Man.” 

Your blood runs ice cold. 

“Because if you don’t…” He walks around his desk, stalking toward you like you’re prey. “You’ll be the one who’s taken care of if not. Got it?” 

He’s still staring down at you and for once in your life, you truly feel small. But not because of the large man towering over you. Because of the danger you’ve put you and your husband in.

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Not me giggling bc he called her his girlfriend 😂🥹

Earth 703

Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

Summary: You should’ve known better. You thought you did. Hadn’t you learned from the first time it happened to Miguel? (Sex pollen. Except it's you this time.)

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: language, smut, p in v, oral (male receiving), cum eating, some soft Miguel, maybe ooc. Not beta-read. Forgive the mistakes.

Part 2 of the sex pollen ask, by popular demand. Can be read as a stand alone but the lore stems from that ask. Hope ya'll like it.

...

Drowning. It felt like drowning.

The air suddenly felt thick as you fought to remain calm. The sensation of pins and needles ravaged the surface of your skin under your digital suit (designed by Miguel himself, as promised), running down your arms and abdomen until a burning heat settled between your legs.

Sweat began to bead along your brow, and you bit your lip to control your accelerating heartbeat. 

Shit. You fucked up. Badly.

You should’ve known better. You thought you did. Hadn’t you learned from the first time it happened to Miguel? 

You’d recognized the daisies immediately—remembered the giant stems and the bright white petals, how it made Miguel greedy and depraved. 

The New York jungle of Earth 703 was just as dense as the last time you’d visited. It was a second mission in search of the anomaly, and you’d decided to complete it independently. That’d been a mistake. And not telling Miguel about it was an even bigger mistake, but unfortunately, you hadn’t put much thought into that last part. You wanted this mission done and over with.

But mostly, you wanted to prove you could do it yourself. 

Miguel would be furious if he knew the predicament you were in. But there was no need for him to find out, right?

The Prowler had a strength that you’d underestimated, easily tossing you into the mass of pollinated daisies before darting off, glitching with an array of colors as he ran away.

You’d been knocked out, waking up covered in pollinated dust like a pastry dusted in powdered sugar. You’d sneezed a couple of times before stumbling out of the daisy patch disoriented before finding the nearest tree and leaning against it, dusting yourself off.

And that is where you found yourself now, sprawled out with your back against the tree and your legs spread wide, your cunt burning with a need to be filled.

Okokokokok. This was fine. You could manage. If you just sat there patiently, the effects would wear off and you could go back to HQ without anyone noticing you were gone. However, that was easier said than done.

You fought the desire to touch yourself. 

You knew that if you did you’d be in trouble, and no one would be able to help. But you were weak of mind, slowly trailing your hand down your abdomen to lightly press your fingers over your throbbing cunt. You groaned, thumping your head back harshly against the tree.

It felt good but it did nothing to ease the growing sensation. You tapped your cunt again, the arousal running through you immediately. You were panting now, letting your mask fall so that you could breathe better.

The burning increased and you squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. You pushed your sweat-slicked hair away from your face with both hands, pausing for a moment to help yourself get a grip.

You felt so incredibly empty. You couldn’t tell for sure but you just knew your core was dripping wet, waiting to be filled by someone’s cock.

You didn’t want to think about that someone just yet, knowing that if you conjured up his image (and his cock) in your mind's eye, you’d be a salivating, mewling mess.

Again, you tried to alleviate the discomfort, this time pressing the heel of your palm over your core. You mewled in response, resisting the urge to cry out in pain and frustration.

It was beginning to hurt, the burning flaring into an intense heat, and you swore you could feel it running down your legs, making your toes curl uncomfortably. Your vision blurred as your eyes tried to make sense of your surroundings. 

Suddenly your watch went off, and when you struggled to raise your arm to answer the call, an image of Miguel appeared. 

“Where are you?” He demanded, “Why’d you turn off your location? I’ve been looking everywhere for you at HQ.” You wanted to respond, you really did, but when you tried to speak the only sound that slipped out was a pained gasp, followed by a sob as you pressed your free hand over your suit-covered pussy. 

“Are you—are you crying?” 

Were you? You hadn't realized, couldn’t feel the fat tears rolling down your numb cheeks and past your chin. You could hear the subtle panic in his voice, his image seemingly appearing closer as he pulled his watch toward his face to inspect you. 

You did nothing but whimper in response, choking on humid air.

“Baby, listen to me,” Miguel reasoned, his tone measured and confident but not free of worry, “Are you safe?” 

“T-think s-so,” you managed to squeak out, another ripple of pain running through you. You groaned, your head dropping forward as your muscles tensed. 

“Can you tell me where are you?”

“E-earth s-seven—” Miguel cut you off with a great sigh, his pixelated form running a hand down his face. 

“Stay right there. I’m coming to get you.”

You didn’t need to finish. He knew exactly where to find you.

…

At least the new suit came in handy.

When you couldn’t wait for Miguel any longer you deactivated your suit, leaving yourself stark naked in the middle of the jungle. 

Normally, you’d be completely mortified, but the throbbing in your cunt overpowered the embarrassment. You simply didn’t care, not when you were desperate for physical touch, desperate to be filled to the brim.

You’re assumption had been correct—you were absolutely soaked. You sighed as you allowed your fingers to swirl through your folds, your creamy juices clinging to your skin as you pulled out to inspect them.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, finally plunging your fingers into your needy little hole, pumping in and out at a steady pace. Your bare chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you let your other hand skim up and tweak at one of your sensitive nipples.

You bit your lip, breathing in harshly through your nose. It was good but it wasn’t enough—it wasn’t what your pussy craved.

You continued to thrust your fingers inside, holding on to whatever semblance of relief you could get.

A portal appeared in the middle of you working yourself open, Miguel stepping through. Your eyes reflected the bright yellow glow of the portal until it disappeared behind him.

Miguel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he did so often when facing a predicament.  

“Baby…” he began, squatting in front of you, his red eyes observing your nakedness, your tear-stained cheeks and red lips, swollen from worrying them. You hadn’t stopped for even a moment, mewling as your fingers worked your messy pussy. You were so incredibly wet, the squelching loud enough for you both to hear.

He wrapped a large hand around your wrist in an attempt to stop you, but you hissed, pushing him away with a weak kick before continuing to stuff yourself. 

“Stop,” he said, grabbing your feverish face in his hands, “activate your suit. I’m taking you home.” 

“Don’t wanna move,” you cried, more tears rolling down your cheeks, “it hurts.” 

“I know, baby, I know, let me take you home.” He was barely successful in removing your hand from your sopping cunt, your fingers pruned with how wet you were. He fought to ignore the strong scent of your arousal and the way your slit glistened. 

Miguel held your body close, feeling how your limbs trembled. He stroked your hair to soothe you, running a hand up and down your back in comfort. His cock began to swell when you rutted against him, pushing him down so that he was flat against the ground. 

“Coño, wait—” 

You ignored his protests, grinding your cunt against him in deliciously slow circles, mewling all the while. Your mind felt hazy, the arousal so powerful that you couldn’t think properly, too overwhelmed by the immense pleasure of your cunt rubbing over Miguel's bulge. 

“Miguel,” you whined, your hands firmly planted on his chest as you moved skillfully over him, “I need you, please, just—just put it in real quick, I’ll be good, I swear, I just need your fat—”

“Shh,” Miguel, placed his finger over your mouth to silence you, his chest heaving as he watched you move above him, “I’ll give you what you want, yes? Then I’m taking you home.”

“Yesyesyesyes, whatever you want, please—” In a matter of seconds you were able to feel Miguel’s bare skin under your fingertips, his large cock springing to life, bobbing angrily against his stomach. Your eyes sparkled at the sight. 

You shuffled down clumsily, gripping his cock and quickly spitting on it to lubricate it. It was hot and heavy in your hands, and your mouth watered, desperate for a taste. You wasted no time in devouring him, lapping at the sides and swirling around the fat head, his precome already coating your tongue. 

“Damn,” he groaned, his head propped up so he could get a proper view of you. He licked his lips, watching you suck his cock as if you’d never have the chance to taste him again. 

His fingers weaved into your hair, careful not to tug on the strands too hard. You set a vicious pace, moaning around his shaft as spit dribbled past the corners of your lips and down your chin. His cock twitched in your hands when you began to jerk him, a sure sign that he was close, “You’re gonna make me come.” 

You hummed in response, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and gagging when he hit the back of your throat. 

“S-shit—” Miguel slammed your head down into his pelvis, his hips lifting slightly away from the ground as he came down your throat, his large load making you sputter over his cock. “Fuck.”

He was a panting mess, his eyes lidded as he watched you lap up the come that slipped past your mouth and onto his dick, making sure to clean him thoroughly. 

Before he could get a word out you straddled his lap, taking his hardening cock in hand and lining it up with your needy hole. 

You looked up at him for a second, searching his eyes for protest.

“Take what you need from me, hermosa.” He panted, his hands running up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Ride me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. 

You cried out when you slammed down on his cock, the stretch of him intense but nothing you weren’t used to. Your greedy hole swallowed him, coating his shaft with your creamy juices as you began to ride him. 

You came within minutes, your body quivering and your cunt squeezing him tightly, gushing all over him. He was moaning beneath you, helping you ride out your orgasm before he choked, filling your womb with thick ropes of white. 

Miguel lifted you up by the waist, your pussy fighting to hold onto him as his cock flopped out, his spend and yours dripping down your thighs and over his hips and abdomen. 

“M-Miguel,” you whined, your fingers searching between your legs to scoop up some of the mess, quickly shoving your digits in your mouth for a taste. You moaned around your fingers, your eyes fluttering at the taste of him mixed with your tanginess, creating a devilish mixture that had you craving more.

“Shit, baby,” Miguel groaned, his eyes trained on your mouth as you sucked on your fingers, searching for every last taste of him, “you okay?”

“I-I need more, I need you,” your core began to burn again after being left empty for only a few moments, “i-it still hurts.” You rubbed your soaked core over his cock, making it hard again. “Let me ride you again.” 

Miguel’s brow twitched, and with a grunt he sat up, holding you flush against his skin. He placed a kiss over your sweaty brow, pressing his nose in your hair to inhale the earthy scent.

“Let me take you home, preciosa. Please.” 

“I need you now.” Tears began to blur your vision once again as you looked up at him. His expression was one of concern as he held you close, his lips set in a tight line. You were never this whiny with him, ever. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, baby, I know. I’ll make it better, I promise, just let me take you home.” 

You allowed him to fiddle with your watch, pressing a few buttons to activate your suit before he activated his own. You were clawing at his shoulders as he lifted you in his arms, your nails hardly breaking the barrier of his suit but still sharp enough to cause discomfort.

He ignored it, summoning a portal as you shook in his arms, and took you home.

…

He came down your throat for a second time.

You’d been so eager to take his cock in your mouth again as soon as he brought you to his apartment, sucking him off until he felt he had nothing more left to give you. 

And for the second time, you rode him, bouncing over him with a vigor he didn’t know you had, making him come deep within your walls. Your pussy was a drooling, sticky mess, unsatiated with the number of times Miguel filled you. 

You shuddered as another orgasm ripped through you. Your thighs ached and trembled as you pulled away, covering his skin in his spend. 

It still wasn’t enough. 

Miguel lay motionless on his bed, his hair a matted, sweaty mess, his body spent from the number of orgasms you took from him. His hands fell from your waist when you shifted away, his tired gaze regarding the wild look in your eyes.

“Amor, please,” he hissed, his eyes screwing shut as you took his cock in your small hand, slapping it over your mound to awaken him for another round, “s’too much. You gotta let me—fuck.” You spit on his shaft, pumping him a few times and bringing him back to life. 

“I need you, Miguel, need your cock,” you whispered, feeling him twitch delightfully in your hand before lining him up over your ravenous cunt, and sinking down.

Miguel choked, his claws sinking into his sheets and causing tears in the delicate fabric. He brought his legs up, bending them at the knees, hoping to slow down your movements but you couldn’t be contained, riding him for all he was worth. 

You caught a glimpse of his fangs protruding past his lower lip, and that was enough to send you spiraling into another orgasm, clamping down on him and causing him to cry out as he filled you (again) to the brim.  

When you replicated the same steps from before—pulling out and allowing him a second before attempting to stuff him back in you— Miguel stopped you, a crazed look in his eyes.

“No more,” he begged. You’d never heard him beg before. It sounded so pretty with the tiniest hint of vulnerability that had your cunt aching for more. 

“I-It’s okay,” you panted, leaning down to kiss him, “one more, okay? One more.” 

You carefully sat on his large cock again, sinking down carefully.

And whenever he hissed and groaned, you ignored it.

…

When you woke up you were in the bath. 

The warm water smelled of lavender and jasmine, caressing your skin pleasantly.

Miguel loomed above you, hair wet and a white t-shirt clinging to his moist skin. He lathered a bath sponge in soap before lifting your arm, gently scrubbing your skin.

You blinked the sleep from your tired eyes, gazing up at him. He looked beautiful. His lips were pursed in concentration as he focused on each individual finger, making sure to scrub the grime from under your fingernails.

“Miguel?” You called to him quietly, your fingers twitching in his hand. His red eyes shifted to your face, the concerned look from earlier still plastered over his features. “Are you mad at me?” 

Miguel grunted, dropping your hand to dip the sponge in the water before taking up your other hand.

“My girlfriend’s an idiot,” he muttered, scrubbing away at your fingers. You frowned, sinking deeper into the water until your mouth was barely above the surface. Your body ached but your pussy ached more. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered sadly, “I thought I could handle it on my own.” Miguel heaved a sigh, urging you to sit up so that he could scrub your back.

“I know, baby,” he answered softly, “but I don’t want you doing that again, ¿me escuchas? You need to communicate with me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your head hanging low in defeat. You didn’t know how much you’d slept, but you were still exhausted, your eyes heavy with the threat of sleep. 

Miguel grunted in response, before placing a kiss to your brow—his silent way of forgiving you.

“I told you to stay away from the daisies the last time we were there.”

“It was an accident.”

Another grunt from Miguel. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, brushing a wet finger over the bulge on his briefs. He hissed, slapping your hand away.

“Off limits.” He snapped.

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes. I can’t count how many times you made me cum.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” 

“Cállate.” 

You giggled, carefully reaching up to place a kiss over his pouting lips. 

“Love you too, Miguel.”

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Stress Relief

Sam Wilson x Reader x Joaquin Torres

Summary: After a mission you and Sam decide to de-stress together, only to be interrupted by Joaquin.

Warnings: 18+, gender neutral reader, smut, penetration, accidental voyeurism, getting caught, implied threesome, no plot just porn, no descriptive body parts or image of reader

A/n: let's hope and pray I don't soak the theater seats when I finally watch Brave New World.

No spoilers!!

Reblogs are more appreciated than likes!

“Shh,” Sam whispers in your ear, his thrusts slowing in order to prevent more moans from leaving your mouth, “Can’t have Torres knowing what we’re getting up to, now can we?”

You shake your head as it falls back to lean against Sam’s shoulder, you clench around Sam as his grip on you tightens around your waist. With your back to his chest you find yourself squirming in his grasp, the tension building up in your body as you try to nonverbally ask for more.

“Sam, can’t-” You gasp, your mind in a haze as you try to speak, “-need more. Need to cum, please.”

Sam coos at your pleading, before giving you a gentle kiss to your jawline, “Yeah? You gonna cum for me baby?”

You whine against him as you try to buck you hips up to entice Sam to fuck you faster. Unfortunately his hold on your waist prevents you from being very effective, and in your struggle you also fail to notice the sound of footsteps getting closer towards the bedroom.

“Hey guys, I found some-” Joaquin’s sentence trails off as he looks up from the tablet in his hands and spots the two of you. Both you and Sam freeze under his shocked gaze. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest as the seconds stretch on in uncomfortable silence. “I didn’t-, I didn’t see anything. I’m sorry, I’ll go, uh yeah.” Joaquin stammers, already halfway out the door and into the hallway when you call out his name.

“Joaquin!” Sam tenses beneath you, and you turn your head towards him, “Can he stay?” You ask. You’ve always had a bit of a crush on the other man, I mean, how could you not? Joaquin is kind and funny, and so sweet in a way that your teeth start to hurt everytime he smiles. It’s so easy to just be a little bit in love with the new superhero, but the issue here isn’t Joaquin, its the man that’s currently underneath you. Because while you and Sam have talked about potential trying something new with someone else, you’ve never settled on who just that person was.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks as he looks at you, his eyes scanning your face for any doubts that you may have. You have none.

You nod, “I’m sure.” The kiss that Sam gives you leaves you dizzy as his hips begin to slowly roll into yours once again, a quiet ‘okay, baby’ falls onto your lips and a whine escapes your mouth when Sam uses his other hand to grip at your thigh and spread your legs apart.

When you and Sam finally separate at the mouth, you turn your head back to look at Joaquin who’s still frozen in the door, but you’re quick to spot the notable tent in his pants. Your tongue runs over your lips subconsciously as Joaquin flushes under your gaze, his cheeks turning redder and redder by the second. You hum as Sam starts to leave a trail of kisses down the side of your neck.

“You joining us?” You sigh and even with the distance you can swear that you hear Joaquin audibly whine before he nods his head, his eyes never leaving your body as he joins you both into the room and shuts the door behind him.

[stevengrantnotrogers]

I’m giggling kicking my feet and twirling my hair oh my goddddddd!!!!???? This was so cute 🥹🥹🥹

First Impressions | Joaquin Torres

Summary: the first time Sam introduces you to Joaquin

Warnings: flirting, fluff, playful banter

A/N: I fell in love with this man during Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Completely forgot about him until I watched the new Cap the other night. So here’s this little before going to sleep drabble. As you will quickly be able to tell I love the idea of a Carol Danvers niece reader given the whole air force thing. Hope people enjoy. May write some more in the future.

Joaquin was smitten the second you walked into his house. When Sam said he was headed over with “some new recruit” he hadn’t expected you. A roughed up baseball cap on top of your head, faded baseball jersey, baggy oversized jeans and sneakers, dripping from head to toe and almost shivering.

“What happened?” Joaquin asked Sam as you tentatively stepped through the sliding door, not wanting to drip too much on this strangers carpet.

“He dropped me in the lake.” Your voice blurted out, completely unamused, shooting daggers at the still newly appointed Captain America.

“Yeah, well, still better that than a 40ft drop onto hard ground.” Sam retorted.

“Or you could have just not dropped me at all?!” You stressed, hands raised in the air, still in complete disbelief over this turn of events. “That’s the last time I’m ever flying with you.” You muttered and you saw Joaquin let out a little chuckle over the situation.

That’s when you really took him in. The guy who Sam sung the praises of. His supposedly best recruit, not that he would actually tell him that.

“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.” Joaquin said, leading you upstairs and to the bathroom.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, do you?” You asked him, as he handed you a couple towels.

“Umm, yeah, of course, I’ll just go find you something.”

You didn’t wait for him to return before you whipped off your clothes and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the murky lake water off of you. You were grateful that it was an old tub and shower curtain situation and not one of those see through glass cabinet shower situations, not that it didn’t stop Joaquin from blushing when he came back into the bathroom a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.

“Oh, sorry- I didn’t realise you were- I’ll just leave these- uh- yeah.” He rushed out before quickly shutting the door again.

He hesitated a moment as he stood with his back to the door, his brain fixated on the small glimpse he got of your naked back from behind the shower curtain. He could feel the flush in his cheeks. The smile that threatened his lips. He fought to hide it as he went back down to Sam in the kitchen.

“So who is she?” Joaquin asked as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and passed it to Sam before picking up his own previously discarded mug to finish.

“She’s a Danvers.” Sam said, as if the surname alone held a lot of weight, but Joaquin still didn’t bite. “As in Carol Danvers… Captain Marvel.” Sam said, walking him through it slowly until Joaquin’s face began to flicker with recognition. “Carol’s her aunt. Before she became Captain Marvel she was one heck of an Air Force Pilot. Kid saw what her aunt did and decided to pick up the mantle.”

“And she’s good?” Joaquin fished, a flame for the woman upstairs really taking hold as Sam kept adding more fuel to the fire.

“Yeah, she’s fucking great. Best female pilot I’ve ever seen.”

“So you looking to set her up with a pair of wings?” Joaquin asked, even though he had a hint of jealousy to his tone. He enjoyed being the only person other than Sam who had access to the now not so secret military wings, but he also couldn’t deny the new found need to go flying with you on a sunny afternoon and treat you to a picnic on the top of a mountain or something.

“We’ll see.” Sam said sceptically, but Joaquin knew from the way Sam had even brought you to meet him he thought you had what it takes.

“What are you two girls talking about?” You asked as you came striding back into the kitchen in a pair of Joaquin’s joggers and his old air force T-shirt. You were using a towel to squeeze out your hair and Joaquin couldn’t deny you looked right at home in his house, wearing his clothes.

“Lover boy here was grilling me about you.” Sam joked, taking in the way Joaquin looked at you.

“Was he now?” You asked feigning interest and playing up to the little bit in order to embarrass him, but as you sat across from him at the table and really took him in for the first time, you couldn’t deny he was handsome- and if the T-shirt he gave you had anything to say, you definitely had a lot in common to bond over.

“Uh- um- no- I-“ Joaquin began to stutter bashfully.

“It’s all cool dude,” you reassured. “I know he’s just messing. You really shouldn’t let him rile you up like that.”

Joaquin sighed before he leaned in closer to you, “How do you stay so calm around him?” He asked as if Sam wasn’t there and you had all the secrets.

“Eh, when you grew up being told about your badass aunt with actual super powers, some guy in a read white and blue bird costume is nothing.” You joked.

“Hey!” Sam pointed at you, “don’t you dare turn him against me or I’ll drop your ass in the lake again.”

“So you admit it! You did it on purpose.” You said, slamming your hand on the table animatedly.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” He asked back, but you didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You rolled your eyes at him before fixing them on Joaquin instead as Sam’s phone began to ring. You both turned your eyes on him as he checked the caller ID. “I need to take this.” He said, before getting up and dismissing himself, stepping out the back door to take the call outside.

“Would you like coffee?” Joaquin asked to break up the silence the two of you were left in.

“Umm, yes, that would be great.” You said with a smile and he got up to pour you a cup full from the pot.

“It looks good on you.” He said as he came back over a moment later and handed you the mug.

“What, now?” You said confused.

“Uh, my shirt,” he said with a shrug, as he committed to the statement. “It looks good on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly under his gaze. He was cute and confident and oddly endearing. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he sat himself back down. “I guess I’ll keep it then.” You joked.

“The only way you’re keeping that thing is if you were my girlfriend.” He replied, half as a joke, half as a way of informing you just how much that shirt meant to him.

“Well I guess you better ask me on a date then.” You smirked playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and he almost choked as he spat it back into his cup. But before he could say anymore, Sam came back through the sliding door.

“Alright lovebirds, you can stop having your meet cute moment now, we gotta go,” he said to Joaquin.

“And what about me?” You said indignantly, feeling a little put out.

“He’ll be back in time to take you out on a proper date later.” Sam retorted, marching back through the house to get his shit from where he’d left it by the front door.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” You asked, completely brushing over the rest of what he’d said. “I don’t even live anywhere near here!” You stressed. “You just brought me here and now you’re gonna up and leave me here!” You said indignantly.

Joaquin froze in the middle of the hallway next to you, looking from his mentor and back to you as he tried to keep up with what’s going on. He felt conflicted. “I mean, can’t she just come with us.” He offered. “I mean, you brought her out here because you wanted to see what she could do. So I say let her.”

Sam looked between the two of you slowly, before he conceded. “Uh, fine. But if anything happens with her it’s on your head.” He warned but you were both smiling.

“So, is this technically our first date?” You ribbed him as he began to usher you out the door so he could lock up.

“We’ll see. Depends if you like it or not.” He mused and you had to admit, his cheeky smile did make you swoon.

“And if I don’t?” You asked with a playful twinkle in your eye.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you with just as equal playfulness and innuendo, “you will.”

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Bucky: You can’t make everyone like you. You’re not Y/N.

Sam: Not everyone likes Y/N.

Bucky: Who doesn’t?

Sam: Well...

Bucky: Names, now. Give me their names.

[stevengrantnotrogers]

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY

I need him so badly

[stevengrantnotrogers]

webslinger….

[stevengrantnotrogers]

WEBSLINGER

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Web-Slinger

Art by me

[stevengrantnotrogers]

I need more of him so I drew him myself

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Save a horse, ride a cowboy…

Pedro-ification of Webslinger based off Anka’s tweet:

[stevengrantnotrogers]

[stevengrantnotrogers]

Intoxicating (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Breeding Kink, Feral!Miguel O'Hara, Pheromones, Use of Petnames, Rough Sex, P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Mating Press, Baby Talk, SPOILER FOR ATSV Word Count: 1.5k+

A/N: Based on a prompt by @imslightlycreative. Literally cannot get enough of this man, istg. 😩🥴 I apologize, my Spanish is pretty rough. If I got anything wrong feel free to correct me. Translations are at the end of the fic. I hope you enjoy!

Original Prompt: "Reader is ovulating. Miguel finds out that his heightened senses can also pick up on pheromones".

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Miguel crept through the bedroom door. His hard heart softened when he saw you tucked beneath the comforter. You sighed and shifted slightly, your breathing steady as you slept soundly. He hovered next to you, his hand brushing some messy hair out of your face. Just as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, a bolt shot down his spine. His nostrils flared as he picked up on a scent: it was potent and sweet like rose water, yet intoxicating like wine. His talons suddenly drew out on their own as his pupils began to dilate.

"¿Qué carajo?" he muttered as his skin crawled, heat stirring inside his chest. The hair on his arms stood on end as he suddenly released a quiet grunt. Your eyes fluttered open as he clamped his hands over his mouth. 

“¿Miguel?,” you blinked. Miguel’s hands shook as his carnal desires began to devour every inch of his body. He parted his lips as he felt a familiar throb in between his legs.

“Sí, bebé. I’m home,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. He swallowed thickly as you shifted yourself up, revealing your naked breasts from beneath the covers. His head spun as you slid your hand into his, your touch sending ripples down his spine and straight to his cock. 

“Are you feeling okay, hermoso? You’re breathing pretty heavily,” you frowned as you stretched your arms out to cup his face. Miguel released a shaky sigh as you laid a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up,” you said. Miguel nodded and licked his dry lips, his words swirling around in his clouded mind like a torrent. 

“J-Just some leftover adrenaline from the the mission,” he explained shakily, his eyes raking down your luscious body. You tilted your head. 

“Are you-” You gasped when Miguel’s large shadow suddenly cast over yours. He caged you in between his muscular thighs as he bared his teeth over your pulse. A deep hunger rose from the pit of his belly and spilled into every corner of his mind. His nostrils flared as he battled with the part of him that desperately wanted to rut into you. 

“M-Miguel,” you sighed as you swallowed. Your mouth opened as he stuck his nose where your shoulder and neck met, inhaling your scent. 

“What perfume are you wearing, cariño?” he purred. You whined as he scraped his teeth over your soft flesh. You arched your back and gasped when his hips bucked forward into your bare pussy.

“I-I’m not wearing perfume,” you said with a shaky breath. Miguel’s eyes snapped open as his lips danced over your collar bone. 

You weren’t wearing perfume? Then, that scent…

Miguel’s gaze went back to your breasts. Curiously, he cupped them in his palms before giving them a light squeeze. You moaned, your mouth falling open into a wide “O”.  

“Ah-Mig,” you cried out. Miguel's lips fell into a straight line. Your whole face turned a deep shade of crimson as his lips trailed down your torso. The smell became stronger as he came closer to your dripping cunt. Miguel’s chest heaved as his hands slid down from your tender breasts and spread your thighs apart.

His hot breath fanned over your pussy before he gently lashed his tongue across your folds. His body felt like it was on fire as he lapped your sweet arousal into his mouth. The last shred of his willpower snapped with the taste of you on his tongue. Miguel released an animalistic snarl as he lunged forward and completely pinned you to the bed. Your eyes widened with shock as he grinded his hips against yours, his cock rock-hard and ready to burst.

"Cariño, te necesito," he practically whined as he drove his clothed cock against your naked pussy. You keened as wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Arruíname,” you keened with drunk, half-lidded eyes. His crimson eyes rolled into the back of his head as he cut a slit in his pants with his talons. His dick sprang out and bounced on your stomach. Your eyes glistened at the sight of his swollen, flushed cock leaking with precum.

“Mi hermosa,” Miguel snarled. He brought his hands beneath your thighs before sheathing his cock inside your wet heat in one eager thrust. He couldn’t get enough of the small moans and cries that tumbled from your lips as he eagerly pounded into you. Your tight cunt greedily sucked him in as his dick slid along your plush walls. “Tan apretada,” Miguel gasped as your pussy fluttered around him. The room was filled with the lewd sounds of wet squelching and skin slapping against skin. He bared his fangs as his heavy balls smacked against your puffy, wet folds. 

“M-Miguel,” you drooled when the tip of his cock reached into your cervix. It felt softer and more open as he relentlessly stroked against it. "Feel so good, Papi-please go faster!" you begged. You released a silent scream as Miguel pressed your legs up to your shoulders. Your slick splashed against him each time he buried himself to the hilt inside you. He leaned down to your ear.

“¿Quieres a mi bebe?” he rasped. You mewled at his words, your hands scraping down his taut forearms. 

“Fuck, Miguel,” you whined. The creases of your knees were held in his palms as his cock somehow struck even deeper within you. His lips crashed into yours as he nearly folded you in half, your slick dribbling down across the bulge that poked out of your lower stomach. 

“Want me to put a baby in you, hm? Want me to fill you up again and again until you can’t walk?” he husked. You released a moan loud enough to shake the bedroom walls. 

“Yes-yes I want your baby! Please fill up my pussy, Papi!” you begged. Miguel smirked as he slid his tongue along your jawline and pistoned into you at a brutal pace. 

“Buena chica,” he purred. His balls began to feel tight as your walls restricted around his boiling shaft. Miguel had to admit that he loved seeing you like this: folded and ready to take his seed. “Vamos, puedes hacerlo,” the man groaned as he saw your eyes squeeze shut and brows pinch together. Your breasts rose and fell as your breathing became ragged. 

“MIG!” you screamed as your hands raked down his back. He grunted as your cunt clamped down and spasmed around his thick cock. 

“Tan buena, tan buena para mi,” Miguel strained as he tried to push through the way your pussy squeezed his cock. The way your face twisted in ecstasy brought him closer to the edge. The back of your thighs jiggled against the front of his thighs. His thrusts became sloppy as you whined below him. 

“Fill me, fill me,” you begged incessantly, your lips parted as drool slid down your face. Miguel could feel the red-hot eruption boiling in his cock as he heard your pussy squelch around his length. 

“Mierda,” he grunted. You gazed into his darkened eyes, hot tears rolling down your glowing cheeks. 

“Papi,” you cooed. The simple word finally pushed Miguel over the edge. He yelled and slammed his hips down. His mind was drowning in waves of pleasure as his body stiffened. Miguel’s cock throbbed as he squirted rope after rope of his thick cum into your stretched hole. 

He panted as he felt the tension in his body begin to unravel-feeling at how his cum bubbled and spilled out where your sexes were joined. His dick twitched as it released the last stream of his spend, stuffing you completely full of his seed. Miguel’s eyelids drooped as he caught his breath. You gazed up at him, tear stains still trailing down your face.

He cooed as he leaned down, hushing you with a gentle kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he lay on top of you, his cock still plugged in your weeping cunt. He felt your hot breath fan over his shoulder as you played with his raven hair. 

“Did you know I was ovulating?” you asked. His eyes snapped open. 

“It was just a hunch,” he mumbled, his mind still somewhat drunk from your cunt squeezing him so tightly. You giggled and kissed his temple. His body began to relax as he listened to your heartbeat steady. 

“So, how many are we going to have?” you whispered. Miguel’s throat tightened as he looked at you with a soft gaze. 

“You mean-you really want to have…” his voice trailed off as images of his variant daughter flashed through his mind. You beamed and cupped his cheek, kissing the tip of his nose while nodding. Joy spread from the cracks in his heart all the way to the tips of his fingers. A wide smile stretched across his face as he kissed you over and over again, his hand trailing down your side. 

“Gracias, mi vida,” he whispered, his eyes misty as he swallowed a lump in his throat. You sighed, then gasped when he rolled both of you over. 

“Miggy!” you giggled as he nipped at your ear. You mewled as he pressed his chest against your back and shallowly pumped his cock into you. His cum sloshed around inside you as he whispered into your ear. 

“We might as well get a head start, since my cock is already stuffed inside your tight cunt”.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Translations:

¿Qué carajo? - What the fuck?

Papi - Daddy

Sí, bebé - Yes, baby

Hermoso/Hermosa - Handsome/Gorgeous

Te necesito, cariño - I need you, honey

Arruíname- Ruin me

Tan apretada - So tight

¿Quieres a mi bebe? - Do you want my baby?

Buena chica - Good girl

Vamos, puedes hacerlo - Come on, you can do it

Tan buena, tan buena para mi - So good, so good for me

Mierda - Shit

Gracias, mi vida - Thank you, my life

[stevengrantnotrogers]

As Luck Would Have It

A/N: HELLO IM BACK??? AND WITH PETER B. PARKER SMUT??? Crazy, wild. lol. After MONTHS of not writing anything, I give you this.

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Assassin!Reader

Summary: Your husband is Spider-Man. You're an assassin and he doesn't know. However, while it does complicate things, you try to keep him safe from your boss. Unfortunately, complications arise.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, oral (f receiving), biting, fingering, Peter has a Daddy Kink, very light choking, light angst

WC: 2.1K │ TAGLIST FORM │Marvel Sideblog: @stevengrantnotrogers

(Pics from pinterest)

The morning light pours into yours and Peter’s bedroom making you beat your first alarm of the day. You groan slightly into your pillow, prepared to get up and start your day. There’s a lot to do today since you have to run over to-

“Uh uh. Stay.” Your husband, Peter’s, warm hands pull you toward his even warmer frame, engulfing you. 

You lean back a little bit to give him a sleepy kiss with a chuckle. “Got too much to do, babe. I’m sorry.” 

“Nope. You don’t. I said so.” He grins into your neck, breathing you in.

“So clingy.” You playfully roll your eyes.

“Don’t forget about bossy.” He kisses your bare shoulder. 

“Ah, yeah. Definitely can’t forget that one.” You laugh. 

“How about I give you incentive to stay?” Peter whispers hotly against your ear. 

You can’t help but bite your lip. “What kind of incentive?”

“The kind where I make you cum 3 times on my face before I fuck you into this bed.” He bites your earlobe, his fingers already starting to trail dangerously low toward your panties. “Would that be okay?” 

“Y-yeah… Pete… I think that would be more than-” You start to agree before Peter’s other hand pulls your face toward his own and he slides his fingers down to tease your already wet folds. “Fuck…” 

He growls into the kiss. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me already. So needy, aren’t you?”

You nod, a little pathetically you might add, against his face as he starts to kiss you again. To anyone else, Peter seems so goofy and like he wouldn’t be a very dominant type. But he never ceases to surprise you. 

“Tell daddy how bad you want it.” He whispers against your lips, holding your throat softly. 

The moment you try to tell him how badly you need him, to be full of him, he slips a long slender finger into you and you can’t help the whine that escapes your lips. He smirks against your lips as he pulls his fingers out just to push them back in repeatedly until you’re begging for more.

“T-tongue…” You beg, breathlessly. 

He chuckles darkly. “That’s not how you ask for things, is it baby?” 

“P-please… Peter…” You grind down against his hand, begging for any sort of friction, needing that release.

He curls his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you and you buck against his hands sharply. 

“Please what?” He asks, clearly enjoying this way too much. 

You look up at him, eyes dark with lust for your husband. “Pl-please… use your tongue…” 

He chuckles and kisses your temple. “Good girl.”

Peter slides his finger out of you and moves down your body as you settle against the pillows. He slips your panties down your legs, tosses them to the floor, and then bites the inside of your thigh making your back arch up away from him. His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. 

He moans at the sight of your bare cunt and looks up at you, making eye contact as he starts to lick a long stripe up your folds.

“Fuck… Pete…” You whimper, your hand flying to his hair to anchor yourself to him. 

He groans against your warmth as your grip in his hair tightens. Unable to help it, you smirk down at him. He shoots you a wink and your whole body goes ablaze. 

After all this time together, you’re still incredibly hot for each other. After meeting in college and being married for almost 10 years, you truly can’t get enough of each other. He’s your best friend and you’re his. 

Peter’s tongue finds your clit and you grip his hair again, making him growl as he tightens his grip on your thighs so rough, you’re sure to bruise. 

“Fuck that’s so good.” You moan. 

Unfortunately, the sound of your phone ringing, specifically the tone that you have for your boss, starts to ring out into the room, immediately killing the mood. 

“God, he’s the fucking worst.” Peter groans into your thigh, resting his cheek against it, looking up at you.

You shrug, breathlessly. “I know, I know… I’m sorry…” 

You lean over toward your nightstand and pull your phone off the charger and answer your boss. 

“Hello?” 

“I need you here. Now.” His deep voice demands. 

You know you can’t say no. 

“On it.” You reply and he hangs up.

Peter lets go of you and moves back up toward his side of the bed. He still thinks you work in publishing, because if he knew the real you… he probably wouldn’t love you anymore. And you’ve been doing everything you possibly can to protect him from your boss. So far, you’ve been lucky.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss him on the cheek and get up, quickly getting dressed. 

“It’s okay. Let me know if you’ll be home for dinner and I’ll go pick us something up.” He gets up and comes to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, you know that?” You look up at him, smiling.

“Duh.” He winks.

You roll your eyes, smirking. He always seems to keep a good attitude about things when your boss makes you come in at all hours. Today, though, you thought you weren’t going to be needed. Biggest downside to being too good at your job, you suppose. 

You finish getting ready and then give Peter one more kiss and leave the house, getting on your motorcycle that Peter keeps begging you to sell so you guys can get a Prius (not happening). 

As you speed into the city, toward Fisk tower, traffic and the weather luckily seem to be on your side today and you make it there in record time. 

When you park your bike in front of the building, the doorman, Harold, greets you just like he does every morning. Despite working for such a morally questionable man, he and his wife are the sweetest people.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He smiles. 

“Hi, Harold. How’s Caroline?” You ask as you hold your helmet in one hand. 

“She’s good. She says hello and that you need to come by for dinner soon.” He playfully scolds you.

“If Fisk lets me have a day off, I promise to take you guys up on that.” You wink and walk into the building, toward the glass elevators, hitting the top button so that it takes you straight to Fisk himself.

You look out at the city, missing Peter already, just like you always do. You can’t stop thinking about the way he reacted when you pulled his hair. 

Ugh. Get it together. You know better than to think of Peter here. 

Before the golden elevator doors even open, you can hear Fisk shouting at someone on the phone. 

Great… 

The doors open and Fisk looks up at you. 

“Sir.” You nod. 

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?” He points at you.

You shake your head. “No, why?”

He shakes his own head, pacing back and forth.

“Osborn seems to think so. He’s lucky I haven’t had him taken care of yet…” 

You’re waiting for Fisk to get on with his point, hoping he’ll make it there soon. You know better than to interrupt him when he’s fuming like this. 

“He can’t get a grip… he’s becoming a loose end. Go threaten him. Make him shit his pants if you have to.”

The Green Goblin… that’s who he’s sending you up against. You’re an assassin… You’re not equipped to go up against that.

“Sir, I’m not-” You start to voice your concerns.

Fisk’s head shoots up, staring at you. “Take some of the guys with you if you have to. Believe it or not, Norman is sweet on you.”

Jesus… The way he says it, he almost seems amused.

“Right. Okay.” You nod and head down to the garage to rally up some of the guys, deciding to take two of the SUVs. 

“We’re going to pay Osborn a visit.” You tell Johnny, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. 

“Oh great…” Johnny whistles and rallies up 8 other guys.

You hop in the front passenger seat of Johnny’s SUV. It’s a quiet ride to Osborn’s apartment. You’re trying to figure out what you’re going to say to a man who seems like he’s on the verge of killing an entire city almost any chance he gets. 

The ride goes by quicker than you’d like and you hop out when Johnny pulls up to the front of Norman’s building. They all wait for your signal. 

“I’ll go in, try to talk him down. You guys be out in the hall ready to strike if you hear any signs of trouble.” You tell them. 

They all nod and you head up toward the top floor of Osborn’s, your gun is in the inside of your black leather jacket along with a few daggers. It’s usually all you need. But this… this makes you nervous. 

As you get to the door, you knock on the front door and find it's already open. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t be home. 

A crash comes from somewhere in the apartment. No, you didn’t think you’d be that lucky. The guys all raise their guns, ready.

“Norm?” You call out into the apartment. “You okay?”

You hear loud clattering and walk back to the source of it, finding Norman skittering around his lab, mumbling to himself angrily. 

“N-Norm?” You say, in the doorway, prepared to grab your gun if you need to.

Norman Osborn looks up at you. His demeanor relaxes when he sees you but his eyes stay angry. 

“Kingpin sent you to kill me, didn’t he?” He chuckles humorlessly. 

You shake your head. “Just to talk.”

The quick change in his face says that was the wrong thing to say and the hair on your neck stands. 

“DON’T LIE TO ME! HE WANTS TO TAKE CREDIT FOR MY WORK! MY WORK!” He screams at you. 

He starts to throw shit around, picking up a desk like it weighs nothing and sending it soaring into the window and down below. You hear a car alarm go off and you just know that one of the SUVs was hit. 

“Norm, please-” You start to cautiously approach him. “All you have to do is-”

“Don’t tell me what I have to do!” He shouts, turning green. 

You put your hands up in surrender, nodding. “Okay, okay.”

All you wanted was a relaxing day with Peter… that’s all you fucking wanted. 

Norman starts to throw more shit out the window and you start to think you’re going to need the backup when as luck would have it, a long white line flies in front of you toward Norman and you recognize it instantly as web fluid.

“Fuck me.” You whisper-shout as you get down, hiding behind the wall. 

You’ve done so good about not having any run-ins with your husband, AKA Spider-Man. Today really is not your lucky day. 

You try your best to scurry out, heading out to the street and around the back alley where the SUVs pull up and you quickly hop in the first one, finding Johnny in the driver’s seat.

“Fucking Spider-Man…” Johnny shakes his head as he drives.

“Let’s get out of here. We aren’t prepared to deal with Goblin and the Spider.” You tell him.

You look out the window as you head back to Fisk Tower, trying to figure out what you’re going to say or do. Fisk is not going to be happy. You failed… which means you’re going to suffer the consequences one way or another. 

Taking the elevator back up to your boss’ office on the top floor, the knot in your stomach twists and turns. You quickly shoot Peter a quick text to let him know you love him, just in case. Hopefully he sees it after he’s done dealing with Osborn. 

When the doors open, Fisk is already waiting with his arms crossed, in his seat at his desk. He really knows how to command a room with that glare of his.

“Sir, I-” You start. 

“Failed.” He states, finishing your sentence as he sees fit. No questions about it.

You nod. “There were… complications.”

“I know. Spider-Man showed up.” He stares at you.

Shit. 

“Take care of him.” 

“Sir?” 

He stands up. “Kill the Spider-Man.” 

Your blood runs ice cold. 

“Because if you don’t…” He walks around his desk, stalking toward you like you’re prey. “You’ll be the one who’s taken care of if not. Got it?” 

He’s still staring down at you and for once in your life, you truly feel small. But not because of the large man towering over you. Because of the danger you’ve put you and your husband in.

[stevengrantnotrogers]

⭑ oops.

hobie just wanted to drop in, he didn’t mean to see this. but your pretty face is just so precious… is this dark content? voyeurism warning. mutual masturbation. fem!reader. nsfw.

this wasn’t supposed to happen, hobie thought as he leaned against the outer wall beside your open window.

he had come to show you some music, an underground artist that he had discovered at a live stage event. he had leapt webbed to your apartment with purpose, excited to see his favorite girl.

he didn’t expect the view he had before him now to greet him when he dropped onto your fire escape.

not that he was exactly complaining.

you lay on your bed, legs spread wide and head thrown back as you drove your middle finger into your sopping wet pussy, wiggling it before pulling it out to circle your clit, then back again.

hobie felt like he couldn’t breath. he felt like he was gonna fucking explode just at the sight of you, so pretty in your baby tee and nothing else.

you mewled as the pad of your finger caught your clit just right, and hobie’s lower stomach twinged with electricity.

he was fucking disgusting, he thought as slid his hand down his front to the buckle of his belt, clicking it open and unzipping his fly.

but your beautiful face, brows pushed together and eyes screwed shut pathetically, was just too much.

and your body was turned just right so he could see that aching cunt, dripping with juices that spread across your heat and your inner thighs.

he watched as your finger returned to your entrance, mumbling a soft “fuck” at the sound of the squelch that came from it. his thumb slid across the tip of his dick, gathering the precum already leaking from it and spreading it down.

you knees hiked up, your hips lifting to get deeper, and he realized just why you were so damn frustrated.

you, poor little thing, couldn’t find your g-spot.

god, he was fucking throbbing.

he bit back a loud moan when you sucked on your pointer finger, adding it to your middle to fuck yourself with two, stretching and curling and thrusting as your back arched and your hips bucked.

he matched the pace of your fingers, speeding up his hand on his dick as his own hips leapt forward into his fist.

“just a bit more, baby. curl ‘em a bit more.” he mumbled, watching your fingers plunge deeper and deeper into that sopping cunt.

and almost as if you had heard him, your fingers curled just slightly.

your back arched sharply, a choked moan bursting from your pretty mouth.

he could have cum right there, but he squeezed the base of his cock to keep his release at bay. he didn’t care how perverted it was; he wanted to cum with you.

your fingers sped up, and your little gasps turned into full moans of “fuck” and “oh please” and “faster.”

and hobie couldn’t keep his words to himself either, moaning “there you go” and “atta girl, just like that” and “fucking hell baby” as quietly as he could manage.

all he could think about was replacing your fingers with his, thumbing your clit while stroking your gspot easily while you moaned, rocking your hips into him.

he could tell you were getting close by the way you kept lifting your hips to your hand and wiggling your body. he watched as you looped an arm around the back of one knee, bringing it up to your chest to get a new angle.

you cried out loudly, at that point rocking your body with each thrust of your fingers, and hobie tightened his grip, trying to imagine being buried inside of you, having you moan like that under him, letting him make you feel so fucking good that you screamed.

“oh fuck” you whined, tossing your head back against your pillow. “fuck, hobie-“

he slapped a hand over his mouth as he came, just fast enough to contain the groan that tried to escape him as his orgasm washed over him, his eyes closed with euphoria.

after a minute, his lids opened to find you too coming down from your high, chest heaving as you tightened around your fingers.

he watched as you pulled them out, you pussy making a wet sound as strings of cum stretched, snapping as you pulled your hand to the side and rested it on your bed. your eyes closed, and your thighs quivered every few seconds.

he sighed, looking away from you and resting his head back onto the brick wall.

with his hand full of his release and his knees shaking, he realized that maybe his little crush on you wasn’t quite so little after all.

masterlists.